I talked to a man about a dishwasher on Craigslist this afternoon and made a dash out to Seymour to check it out, but that’s beside the point and maybe a different story altogether.
The Henley Bridge is out, as all Knoxvillians know, and going to South Knoxville is something you have to be intentional about. That’s why it’s been awhile since I’ve dropped by Disc Exchange to get my hands on any cool music or namely to check on the sales in the “Levon Walker” isle.
I told the guy at the counter that it had been longer than I could accurately remember, but I needed to check my sales. He pulled out the binder of such inventory records and sure enough found my name on a line from 5/7/10 having left 10 CDs. That was two years from yesterday. Then he scanned the barcode which indicated that I had exactly two sales.
“We owe you ten bucks,” he said. ”Do you want that now?”
“Yeah, I’ll go ahead and take it.” 2014 is a ways away.
“Okay, we just need you sign here,” he said. He made a new line in the ledger with my name. ”Are you Levon Walker?”
“[Why] yes I am.”
He wrote down a 1 for each CD and gave me a ten dollar bill from the register drawer.
I went to see the man about a dishwasher. The dishwasher will be nice. The ten bucks from a music store was like a million dollars and I said a blessing for whoever that supporter may be. That ten dollars I’ll spend on teal blue paint for the lower half of my camper. All the way down the Chapman HW I watched the shoulders of the road. For campers.
The dishwasher is the first thing I’ve fixed around the house towards renting the place out. The list isn’t too long, we got compliant with the codes last time.
We’re getting closer, still battling the questions, “Where are we going to go, and what are we going to do?” But it’s looking a little less mystic. For one thing, it’s clear to me that the time is near to obscurely release my next album which will be a Lo-fi Pop Country project that I’ll record in the basement of the Grace Acres Farm house (where I made “New York City Spanks Levon Walker” in 2009).
The new songs are about work, and dreams, having the right woman and having a kid who thinks I’m a rock star so far. I like Country Music 60% of the time, for about 2.5 to 4 listens. I identify with all of it, but they dumb it down until it’s hard to find. Or you just come to peace with it because the radio’s gonna play it anyhow. It could be better and I don’t think the likes of Cash, Willie or Prine have had a player in the game for a while. It won’t be my freakin’ shy, timid squeak of a voice either, but that’s my soapbox and I feel better.
Feeding chickens and mucking stalls was my job at Grace Acres. They may need us again while they go to Germany. Frankie has really good ladders too, so I could maybe find a paint job or two in the area. This is all unsettled and unforcertain but I mention it because our readers should like to know that we won’t talk about campers forever and post baby pictures. Although they are sweet.
We’re getting closer to having some sort of plan, not a pipe dream which would resemble the foolhardy 2009-10 “walkabout” that was as adventurous as it was financially catastrophic. Two artists cannot live on art alone, as it turns out. But they can outrun things for a while. As two artists raising a baby, and the baby having no serious artistic inclinations of his own as of yet, we should be wiser. Wisdom never to be confused with practicality.
Now comes the plug. Get ready.
There are still four copies of my first two records at Disc Exchange. OR they are all for free on my bandcamp page or for any donation. In blemished lo-fi glory, recorded in basements of everyone I know, with borrowed gear and pawn shop souvenirs:
“some of the most obscure music of all time.”
SECOND HALF of the PLUG
From Ashley: I am understanding that painting, for me, is a way of processing information and ingesting experience. As a result, at the conclusion of a painting I am a changed person because the time spent doggedly looking out and looking in has redefined my thought patterns. I’m beginning to notice that every painting is a practice at learning and making new connections.
During this painting, I was thinking through ideas about identity formation. ”Dear Polly” is an advice column I found in a 1963 issue of Farm Journal. The questions submitted and the advice dispensed reflect our culture and our ideas about the way young girls should behave as well as view themselves.
acrylic on gallery wrapped 1.5″ deep canvas, painted on all sides, (no frame necessary), coated with protective varnish, high quality artists paints
24 x 24
Ashley’s studio is at the Mason Jar and if you have long been meaning to stop by, well please do.
END OF PLUG
(It would be shameless to show a photo of a hungry child, that’s why we show this “fatso” who has no qualms with boarding a pull behind camper until his parents can find whatever it is they are looking for)