I thought of Pearl Harbour this morning because I learned she is the sister of the recently deceased gallerist Ed Gilbert.
Her biggest song is “Shut Up And Dance”. My smart phone let me play it, somewhat quietly. My wife Terry Acebo Davis is stil sleeping. I’ve written 20 emails already. And a text or two.
I have a 9:30 appt at Mac’s Smoke Shop to discuss displacing porn with art.
But I noticed in my worn and marked and tiny copy of the mentor book of major american poets that there is a section of Hart Crane called “The Dance“.
Has anyone pondered the possible influence of Hart Crane on Pearl Harbour?
Just me, huh.
And you, gentle reader.
I hardly knew Ed Gilbert.
He lived in Germany, as did his boss or mentor Paule Anglim.
We met Terry Allen there. Terry my Terry knew Ed well, but isn’t sure if she saw Pearl at The Mab.
People I thought of and poked already today include: John Hanes, Karen Stackpole, Scott Amendola, Veronica DeJesus, Constance Button, Brian Corcoran the hocky guy, Sarah Jackson Han, Rebecca Eisenberg and a Ukranian American singer I met at an Indian restaurant named Irina Apina and her hubby Ven, who I am fixing to have sing along to John Chowning’s “Stria”.
Whereas yesterday I bombed the shit out of my former professor Donald Pease. Who guest lectured Cox and Porter’s class on August 16, 1984.
Not hurry up please its time but more like, and I’m paraphrasing the swift red flash or flesh, a winter king, who squiered the glacier woman down the sky. I’m jest saying.
Kate the curt, skate the skirt, roller coaster skinny, shake shake. dot dot dot mythical browns. we saw retiring loaths.
ufkc fuckd dudley fuck fuck fuck
More elegantly and damn straight from Tony Bravo in the Chron:
Gilbert was a colorful and impeccable dresser, easy to spot during arts events throughout the Bay Area as he favored suits in bright pinks and orange, intricate prints and experimental designs. In her book “Recollections of My Nonexistence,” Rebecca Solnit recounts that artist Jay DeFeo would call Gilbert during her terminal illness in 1989 and ask him what he was wearing as a form of comfort.
“Perhaps the reprieve Ed’s wardrobe provided a dying woman was one of the ways I was learning that who you are and what you do and make and wear and say can be a contribution to people around you,” Solnit wrote.