RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Tuesday, October 2

SONG OF THE DAY: Astral Weeks



Van Morrison pops up as that classic soothing country soul shit, due to past memories. My youngest sibling recently sent me a Van Morrison link, which means it runs deep in our memories. When my folks split up when I was a kid, my dad moved into a trailer down the road from our house, and I stayed up there a lot, because he had his demons and I ain’t want him to be alone with them. He played a ton of Van Morrison in that period, and I remember just kicking it, door always open, small ass old trailer so the living room was basically the front yard too, sitting there while my dad, my uncle, dudes from up and down the road, all came and went. Both my folks had their issues but I love ‘em because fuck it, without them, no me. And I love me, finally.
The other day we was riding somewhere in my given-to-me Honda Civic with the slipping clutch that I can’t afford to fix, and the kids were talking about funny nicknames and one of them said “Tuna”. I told them how that was their grandfather’s nickname, how more people knew him as Tuna than Charles. Anyways, my family is fucked up but it’s okay, so is everybody else’s. Life’s been hard the past year or so, but it’s okay, so has everybody else’s. But it’s weird how some simple shit like Van Morrison just sneaks right into that eye of the storm chillness – recapturing those tender calm moments even though life’s a fucking chaotic blur most all the time. I’m not sure there’s any musician I can think of more than Van Morrison that captures those snapshots throughout the entirety of my life better. Always makes me want to leave the door open and prop the screen door with the fisherman concrete statue I got and let the bugs come in and let the man go out, all of us freely.

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