As William Blake was wont to say
Exuberance is beauty.

There is much exuberance wafting about these days.
As of late a spate of gorgeous moments, music, memories-to-be.
Or is a memory-to-be suddenly a memory when dragged into the open air.
Indeed.

Jetted off in a flurry to the Shiney Apple last week for a marathon of art making, gigging, Beckett, Band of Horses, editing, visiting, and viewing.

Shot ports in Battery Park, a lovely place if you ignore the faux statuettes of Liberties, the molten ice cream cones, and profusion of memorializing.
Had just purchased myself some Perfect parfum and I do hesitate to give away what it is. Yours Truly nearly purchased it for its bottle, a sweet glass number with true golden bees screened around the bottle. Having a bee thing and all. That the scent inside the bottle is all mystery and lovely is a super bonus.

Went to Studio 54 with Justy to see Waiting for Godot (and please it is GOD-oh) with John Goodman, and Nathan Lane. A triumph.
Didn't know Bill Irwin (yet) but now do and he is a solid Didi to Lane's Gogo.
And Goodman is now embedded into YT's mind as thee Pozzo.
We sat in the second row and so were spat upon by the cast, merrily.
We were not underneath where the oversized coke spoon of yore was foisted up into the expansive historical ceiling.

Here is the production's tree of second half, with its merry seven or so leaves of green.
Afterward Justy and I headed to one of our fav haunts, ñ on Crosby for tapas, handclaps, various bevvies.
Next day was edit time on the rooftop of GPH, always Perfect.
Then on to visit with DKNY, and then dinner with ShineyApple'Phew at another haunt, Souen for health-on-a-plate.

Onwards it was then to Band of Horses for a much-anticipated gig, all acoustical, at Carnegie Hall. We were in first row of Dress Circle, a confusing name but what this entails is that we were essentially floating in the center of this acoustical confection. Openers were Arbouretum of languid melodies and lovely voices.
Then.
Then.
Time for BoH.
So anticipationalized, and so excellent.

YT took notes and here are some stats:
20 songs, 2 hours, three encore tunes, 3 guest musicians, 1 guest musician on grand piano, a guest femme fiddler gleaned from Pete Seeger's grandson's band. Her playing and harmonizing augmented and fit. Oh, and 1 beside-himself biggestfan behind me, ShineyApple'Phew, AllenF (aka Rachel but thank our stars she did not show), and ethereal StaceySongstress, groaning his devotion - and request for LDC until those around him finally convinced him to quiet himself. Until next eruption.

From my small purple n-book, NB.

My goodness, hello everybody.
First words out of Ben/lead.

Some songs were pepped up doubled-time, others slowed slower slowest, like Wedding Song, becoming a dreamy waltz. Window Blues became a subtly rollicking swing.
And of course they did Funeral, their best known, which drew a few tears, as No One's Gonna Love You nearly did except YT was too busy for a moment jotting down pomes pennyeach and fiddling with the iPhone Zippo lighter.
Great Salt Lake was explosive, as written.

Merch. Did acquire a nice sage green t. ShineyApple'Phew did want the BoH frisbee and YT did attempt to get it for half price but the lady behind the merch table, a CH volunteer, would not budge. It was $20, too much, YT believes, for flinging the 'bee.
Arose before the asscrack of dawn and jetted out on the first JetBlue flight, still hap-hap-happy from hearing BoH.
Landed and hit ground running, literally.
Had a gig and then visited with visiting musician pals, including CelloBoy.

Later that day, Friday, visited with olds & dears, including Cheryl and Liz - pictured in the dreamy late-day light from the appointed joint's large plate glass.


Next day was more gigging, and then a gig of musical proportions to see Great Lake Swimmers lead singer, Tony Dekker, solo at thee Terrapin Point which once chunked off killing a bunch of Victorian Era sightseers.
Heady and I fell victim to my sometimes-faulty internal GPS and I got us to another empty stage alongside the pathetic Hard Rock Café where YT took Liz a long while ago to its grand opening festivities that featured Goo Goo Dolls, and Soul Coughing of where are they now status.
So finally the right streets were taken (First Street, not first street, par example) and we were suddenly sitting in front of the small stage where Tony D was singing some beauty.
And then he stopped.
So we'd missed about 99.9% of his gig.
After that YT was quite sad and all and did approach Tony D to see if he just might be into the idea of serenading me, Heady, and Noah for 1 or 2.
And he did.
Under a Terrapin Point tree.
It was quite dreamy.
It was not a GLS tune but one by the ol' Carter Fam of Johnny Cash in-law fame.

Onwards.

Today is Bloomsday, a fact appropriate to epinw which runs on precious Beckett fuel.
YT will be reading a portion of Ulysses tonight with AEDM, Jana, Mish.

Exuberant Love.