Wednesday, October 26, 2005



Now You Know My Friend

the leaders and rulers in jerusalem
said he was a warlock
a blasphemer
a sorcerer
a satan worshiper

they claimed his miracles were hoaxes
accused him of sedition
as many jews began referring to him
as their king
their messiah

during his public life
he associated freely with people
of every class and gender
but directed his message
specifically to isreal

after three and one half years
walking about the country
he entered jerusalem and said
if you destroy this temple
in three days
i will raise it up again

the high jewish counsel immediately
arrested him
and at a late night meeting of elders
they accused and condemned him
there was no formal arraignment or trial

they then brought him before
the roman governor
pontius pilate
who found no fault in him
and sent him to the king of isreal
herod
who mocked him
sent him back

after having him severely scourged
pilate was astounded
when this man kept silent
before the hostile jewish leaders
who vehemently accused him
and demanded he be killed

he brought him outside
to a large throng of people
and gave them the opportunity
to free this man
or a known terrorist
awaiting execution

they screamed
to release the known murderer
and for the silent scourged man
“CRUCIFY HIM!!”

likewise
many who love to blame
judge and condemn
curse his name today

they took him to a hill called the skull
there they spiked his hands to a cross beam
and rested it upon a wooden column
to which they spiked his feet

as he hung there dying
he prayed
father forgive them
for they know not what they do

now
you know
my friend

now you know

Saturday, October 22, 2005



Artist's Manifesto

[The following letter is a manifesto for working artists which explains why our lifestyle, our identity and our contributions keep the San Francisco Bay Area a flourishing multi-cultural global leader.

The letter develops from a brief apolgetic in defense of a working artist who used my boat as a respite and place of solice.]

September 1, 1999

Steve Burton
Marina Manager
Emeryville Marina
3310 Powell Street
Emeryville, CA 94608


Dear Steve,

The frequent use of my property at E-6 apparently has caused you some concern, and I will address that in this letter.

Scott Andrews*, a professional associate, uses "Mama Mia" as often as he wishes within the guidelines set by Westrec. To my understanding his evenings here are infrequent. He both works full time and has his residence in San Francisco.

If there has been any disturbance caused by Scott please bring such matters to my attention with specific data so that I, or we, can begin to process the necessary adjustments as quickly as possible. I wish to maintain my tenancy quietly and in good standing here, and intend to remain in compliance with the terms of our agreement. I am willing to avoid confrontation over this matter if possible.

Would you take a moment for a little feedback, Steve?

A closer look at our situation may offer a much better understanding of what is happening among certain members of the marina. Both Scott and myself are part of a highly productive community of working professional performing artists in the San Francisco Bay Area. Avoiding the frenetic nature of this wonderful city, we are better able to focus on our work, as writers, performers and recording artists. It is of vital necessity to the mastery of our product that we spend as much time as possible in a serene environment such as this. Bear in mind that although some artists process paperwork all day long, or set thousands of tiles in grid form next to each other, as I do, when we finish the day's work, we begin the evening work. We create and refine new ideas, concepts for publication. We are victims of stress, and physical exhaustion. We deeply need and appreciate the psychological, emotional and spiritual respite of the marina more critically than anyone else I know. The quality of our work strictly depends upon the quiet and separation that the marina offers. It is here that inspiration often emerges, and we are better able to compose, and develop our instruments and various skills needed to perform flawlessly and creatively as artists of our caliber in what is considered one of the most competitive and demanding cultural areas in the world. Sleepless nights are not uncommon. Yet, we must appear fresh for our day jobs. San Francisco artists prototype new trends in many disciplines. Many of us contribute creatively as we are constantly exploring new approaches in our specific fields of interest. Those who boast of the culture and panache of this colorful city should also be mindful of our lives, as well as the end product of what we do. Since we make a significant cultural statement in this community, while somewhat anonymous in daily life, this letter should serve to clarify our position as working artist professionals, not only in the corporate community, but in the trades community as well.

In the past a certain highly productive teacher, physical therapist, and professional performing artist who was berthed here unfortunately underwent what might be considered "harassment". Rather than become embroiled in a long period of confrontation with the present administration, she chose, as is consistent with the milder disposition of many professional artists, not to engage, but sadly left this marina. Many have suffered a significant sadness and loss because of it. I find this disturbing because many knew that she was not in any violation of her contract. But, for the reasons I mentioned earlier, she succored from the frequent use of her personal property, and was assumed to be an illegal live aboard. I hope that this letter will serve to clarify that there are others who use this marina for different purposes, who are not avid weekend boaters, or indifferent holiday visitors, but rather, take a daily active interest in being in an environment which offers us a scaled down, simpler lifestyle something that this society is rapidly moving toward. Today we serve as a necessary positive example and encouragement to many others. Kindly bear in mind that many of us are also religiously ecologically minded, possessing a deep love, knowledge and respect for nature drawing from her beauty in the fashioning of our work which we then return to the greater community. In this way we serve society on many levels. It would seem a shame to hinder or reject such devoted and conscientious persons who are enriched and strengthened by the marina in support of most who are virtually never here. Some represent a healthy glowing presence, cooperative spirit and life force for the less frequent users.

Then there is the constant battle of prejudice mounting against the working artist who, by virtue of his, or her often strikingly creative persona, style, or state of mind may momentarily appear to be of some lesser value, or understandably, pose a certain threat to the status, goals and objectives determined by those whom we serve sincerely and wholeheartedly through our work as we strive to be a humanizing element in the exposition of our talents and creative wisdom. Although we may not appear to be operating within the norms of dress and financial security, (historically consistent with many in our field) please do not mistake our individuality of expression, or temperament associated with the emotional sensitivities of the deeply observant, brilliant artist, with any form of weakness or degeneration. Many are struggling to improve and grow, honestly and quietly in this fast moving competitive environment we serve by acting as wisely and as prudently as possible. Many do not have the financial resources to respond decisively and immediately to certain changes, and often suffer frustration and setback while struggling to build a more stable state of being. We tend to sympathize with other artists who have suffered thus, so we share from our meager estates freely and without the unnecessary protocol, and ubiquitous need for compensation. My associate and personal manager, Augusta Lee Collins, for example, who is Afro American, has performed for years with noted artists such as Herbie Hancock and Freddie Hubbard. He and my bassist performed for the inauguration of Jerry Brown. He lives humbly and quietly in a small hotel room in downtown Oakland. (I am hesitant to extend to him frequent use of "Mama Mia" because not all Afro Americans choose to emulate the social demeanor of Anglo America, and so, may be subject to unnecessary scrutiny, or harassment. This is an issue I publicly address in my writing and music). Half of the musical equipment I presently use was loaned to me by Bonnie (Chancellor) Veblen, a dear friend and confidant, who maintains two bronzes in the Smithsonian Institute. Cathy Luchetti, who is a noted historian, has published numerous works on women's historical issues, and was honored last year with first place for the International Book Award with "The Hot Flash Cook Book," and has appeared on the Lee Leno Show. Yet, she, along with Bonnie, would not boast of any affluence except in the quality and tenor of their works. Lee Williams, my dearest senior friend, who is a disabled paraplegic, was honored with the Humanitarian Award in Hollywood last year. He travels widely in support of the critical issues of the disabled. These are just a few of the gifted, who, at first glance, might be easily mistaken for what is categorically average. And, Ann Farber, my literary agent, whose office is located in the Madison Avenue District of New York City, I am certain has numerous stories to tell about those whom she represents, Kirt Vonnegut for one. These have added immeasurably to the society in which they live, as do certain of the tenants and personal friends who occasionally enjoy the use of my boat, one, whose father serves as a federal court judge.

With fear of stereotyping our character it should be noted that society traditionally has required us to be wholly, uniquely and publicly creative, before our work will be publicly honored. Those whose interests and work are for the most part non-cultural, often endorse and enjoy our work in the present, and inevitably come to benefit in the legacy and archives we leave behind. It would be a shame to act hastily, or unwittingly toward the professional artist who is, indeed, and in many ways "struggling."

At a board meeting I attended before Westrec took over, a white haired local board member stated publicly that the use of the marina was not intended for what he referred to as, "a bunch of narcissistic artists who like to live by the water," forgetting that it was an artist who designed his house, furniture, the elegant lines on his car, and the profiles on the coins in his pocket. Such a thoughtless statement, it is safe to say, represents a prejudicial mentality not shared with all. Do you see a kind of paradox here, my friend? Society validates us if we are committed to the cause, struggling, stoical, sometimes removed from the system, and curiously eccentric, before validating our work, and then, looks down on us because we represent a humbler lot in life. God forbid we own a boat, or a cabin near those who are never there. How threatening. Yet, responsible artists maintain the distinct often polished capability (often with community support) to speak multi- dimensionally, expressing what we see with formidable and unsettling accuracy on any subject, any person, any institution, or any system, enlightening, informing and driving home to the greater community the less obvious details concerning this environment, justice, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all. In this manner we often find ourselves up front on vital national issues consumed with the pressing needs of our nation, and of the greater global community. At least, those are the artists with whom I generally associate. We are a necessary reality here. I, myself, served voluntarily in combat in Viet Nam, while many of the children of the yacht owners in the Bay Area at that time were safely tucked away in colleges, or in Canada. My entire soul witnessed the suffering, maiming and death of many people. I still live with vivid memories, and a crushed heart and will never recover from the hideousness of what we humans are capable of inflicting on one another, with commerce quietly hidden beneath the juicy contracts, and the good people who might have lost their jobs if we didn't continue killing and being killed. Today, I write and perform for the cause of love and peace. No nation has ever survived without it. I was invited to work at Folsom Prison and maintained the longest stay of any assistant chaplain, for a period of twenty eight consecutive months in the protective custody area among child molesters, serial killers, family leaders, rapists and on. I traveled three hours weekly in each direction with no monetary compensation. I initiated and labored feeding the homeless in Oakland during that entire time in Old Man's Park, with a few members of my family and friends, at our own expense each Sunday morning. That work has effectively changed lives. Other artists here have similar backgrounds. Having come via this path, it is incumbent upon me, and society requires me, at a certain point, to speak thoughtfully, poignantly, and relentlessly, through the full force of my work, especially whenever certain vital human principles are endangered, challenged, or violated. I do not shrink from my mission, but explore, and expand important issues en ensemble with those who have earned a certain right to speak. In recent years I co-produced, with Lee Williams and Barbara Michelman, who was a script writer for "The Little House on the Prairie," two full length theatrical performances at the Berkeley Arts Center on woman's issues. Our statement touched many noted poets and writers who attended.

I am certain that Westrec in its intent to fulfill its commitment to the People of Emeryville will continue to manage this marina with fairness, equity and understanding of the specific needs of the highly cultural community in which it operates, as well as the artists who spend a good deal of time here developing their product. And, like the most noteworthy corporations, I am certain you will find new ways to honor those who are contributing so wonderfully in our society. You certainly have our support as well.

I'd like to thank you for this opportunity to better formulate my thoughts and address the professional working artist here. Some of the ideas in this letter will serve as a kind of manifesto for an organization I've been kicking around called, "The Coalition for Cultural Concerns." When it comes about I’ll be sure to put you on the mailing list for the news letter. Its time to address the issues of the artist here in America, I think, in a more concrete and public manner.

I hope that I have succeeded in offering some clarity. I am happy to speak with you again personally before September 7th as you have requested at your convenience. I may be reached at any time at 510/220-xxxx.

Sincerely,

Joseph L. Segreto
Jeseppi Trade Wildfeather

founder
Coalition for Cultural Concerns


This document has been posted since 1999 at www.godys.com/coalition/

*Actual name changed for privacy concerns.


Pluck A String

Jeseppi
6/14/75
Binghamton, New York


pluck a string
hear websters seventh collegiate vibrations
take the point out of the contrapuntal
and as you do the mombo with your mantra
don’t bend into bold inclinations
you might loose your place
and as you rest
with bars all around you
you’ll sit humming the tune you learned
at your neighborhood head health center
where a hundred thousand volts of cosmic nectar
pass through your brain
without you noticin
or batting an eye
can even see yourself die
when you're more advanced
deeply entranced
merely enhanced

is milk and honey worth the money
does he smile cause it’s funny
being prisoner of the flesh
on his way to marakesh
to buy a meershum pipe
to smoke your aromatic minds with
when they’re ripe and dried
artificially flavored and humidified
even cancer of the lip
is no match
for the cosmic trip he’s trained to place you on
when you catch it
the parapsychologic affliction
of the overtamed
paper trained
fine brained enlightened

and so a time when your vice is overpriced
when old ladies expecting antichrist
at thirteen to appear
then go and hide
and come back again
and win from them
their next of kin
harsh competition
and so bummed outta the race
of not being believed
yet begreived by the mess
they stand in witness
to the real lord
who speaks profoundly to the simple
who cannot express the truth they live
like you can
on your four hundred and fifty dollar
red metal flaked dulcimer
that you will play for him near his bed
with six six six embossed on you head
and the real god who was dead
will resurrect for the last time
but it’ll be just mime this time
not jazz that you hear or you don’t
you’ll see it or you won’t
like where the oil is really coming from
and you will try to buy your salvation
with a petrodollar
but there will be no sale
'cause the one who does the selling
may be the jew again
and the ones who do the buying
may be non catholics
and get thrown to the communists
as the jews get their visas
and fellinni discovers the real implications
about his roma
gateway to the new world
where visions of johanna
are only sung of
not seen of
by all those looking to escape their confusion
through a transfusion
into a new vain of inspiration
which turns out to be coal
and gets sold again
for another petrodollar
over the counter
or out in the sun
where the yogis sit
sipping linen strips
and hyperventilating off words
meant to cue them back into the groove
as the big disk spins
and everything just happens to be
or not to be
depending upon the question
and which generation
does the asking