Original Compositions – mountainbreakfast

New Music

Here are two pieces I’ve been waiting to put in the blog. The first (Theme 42) is an experimental piece. The second (Theme 160) is called “The Last Hours.” You can listen to this while you read the poem about the end of the Age of Enlightenment.

Theme 42

Theme 160 “The Last Hours”

Three Rags

These oughta clean things up. Check it out.

Theme 142: Oil Rag

Theme 166: Wash Rag

Theme 165: Dish Rag

A Word About Words

And another new song!

This is Theme 162, a contemplative piece.

Sitting on the Back Porch

Waiting for 2021. Theme 130. Relax and enjoy.

Theme 140: Lament

This is in memory of my dad, who would have liked this, and would have encouraged me to keep at it.

Lament

And I’m wondering about this wonderful little fold, which looks like a local phenomenon, not affecting the strata around it. C’mon geologists, gimme a little interpretation here!

Two New Pieces

Theme 131, Lullaby Blue

Theme 136, guitar and flute

And for those of you who appreciate history and religion…

Anthem for the Immigrants

This is what I call Theme 84, from the Trump years.

A Father’s Day Poem and a New Piece of Music

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And Theme 119, with drums.

More Music

Here’s my Theme 34 and Theme 35 to help you relax.

New Music

First, a little pick-me-up piano exercise.

And: Slow Dance Through Covid-19

Theme 109 and 108 respectively.

Well, many years ago, before computers and the internet, I wrote a short story about a man who carried an enormous length of garden hose up a mountain with the goal of starting a siphon to run water from a lake to his cabin below. His only friend, a water attorney (?!?!), warned him that stealing water could get him in a lot of trouble. But, undeterred by this cautionary advice, he proceeded to climb to the lake and start the siphon. Meanwhile, his friend cooked breakfast in the cabin below. By the time the hose was hooked up, his friend had set fire to the kitchen and lost control of his wits. Just when it looked like the cabin would be burned to ashes, the hose began blasting water, and he was able to save the house. This was the first of several short-short stories in a series that I called Mountain Breakfast, in which each tale involved cooking or eating breakfast in the wild. It was all about humans, all about nature, and all about human nature. I’m still at it, still hiking and thinking and writing tales, although they’re longer now, and not about eating breakfast.