Inkblot Publications

ah, yes....some 31 years later inkblot is still happening. i realise i never wrote up the most recent inkblot book, 'tennessee williams in bangkok' by eddie woods.  highly recommended. we havent had so much fun with a book in some time.  now: we are awaiting our copies of eric shoaf's brilliant guide to collecting william burroughs. folks, copies will be here in approximately 2 weeks. dont hesitate to write us with your locale and payment/postage info will be forthcoming!

tequila & the solstice

in years past it would be quite warm in oakland this time of year and
pirate & i would sit on the porch drinking tequila sunrise, of all things.
i remember this vividly on several december 25, & its true that today
is not that day, but pretty damn close. but the solstice no doubt warrants
such action, tho its rare for me to drink tequila. and thus today may have had
the odd gin/tonic, and many glasses of burgundy. but today is just starting
and lunch was some boring ravioli. dinner will be another matter!
on my post office walks of late, a lot of word scramble enter me noggin
and i always intend to return to the citadel here and type them into this
machine so all of you can read them. well, win some, lose some. as there
hasnt been an entry for some months. most of you know how to contact me
directly for the odd story every now and again, eh??
oh, i forgot to mention that it is 61 degrees or so in providence today,
very oakland like!! may this tropical warmth continue!!

STEAMY

these notes from here in providence, 25 june...several weeks prior to the july heatwave...
finnish foolishness arrives w/ a swedish flag & those blooze & yellows soak us thoroughly & the heat arrived camelback just the other day - we'd been in brooklyn & new york lingers day after day & well into the evening & on into the nite...manhole covers leaping about carelessly w/ pudding splattered on their drawers & the serbian gypsy chicks couldnt get there on time for even a spoonful...romantically dark rum & a splash of lemonade work wonders as the muffler dismantles itself ceremoniously...chairs & a blouse undone as the mercury rises

metal machine music*

sometime during the heatwave of july i wrote to hexit that i would post some words about the metal machine music recording by lou reed, issued sometime in 1975. but that was then, and those words havent yet appeared. it is the perfect hot weather record for me. then, and now. even today, which may have topped out at 87, was just right. the disk player was fucked momentarily so i dug out the vinyl....quality superb. of course one had to flip the record every 20 minutes or so. and i didnt make it to side 'D', as something came up. i also had velvet underground on the jukebox a lot this summer.  more great hot weather music. but a week or 2 ago, another musical craving came to me. something i also experienced the first time on the delta that glorious hot summer of '75. and that is steve reich's magnum opus 'drumming', the 3 LP set, which also includes 'six pianos'  and 'music for mallett instruments, voices and organ'. again available on disk, tho it was hard to find for a while. this leads into my next word collage, to be posted soon. as i try and make sense of something written long ago...

suddenly choking carrot soup or standpipe siamese

greenpoint arrival was probably 4.30 & we opened the wine, some cheap burgundy i had brought down from providence & there was a delay while we waited for h to get back from another island but it was good to be back on freeman st & we journeyed over to manhattan ave to a fish joint called 'lobster' (original, eh?) & we sat out back at those picnic style tables, tho we had ordered our food first, & it arrived very quickly, some kinda fish sliders and a slew of opening foods, was it the oysters or the deep fried shrimp or.....and the rain began & we ordered more food....m & h were drinking beers, & i think a & i were with a pint as well.....got soaked on the 2 blocks back to freeman, tho we stopped off to get friday wine, & vodka. / was there still rain on friday or was it clouds &......the day passed, & i realised how fond i am of greenpoint & we walked about: up manhattan, side streets, and down franklin. eventually, dinner time arrives as it does most daze & we went straight to karczma on greenpoint ave, a polish joint & i tremble now to relay only a bare skeleton of what may or may not have happened but suffice to say we were very well fed and there was enough to bring back for saturday lunch. but friday nite was still to come & were we dosed or was the music and company that much fun? ha ha.....lets just say we might have been sluggish to get our saturday goin'....heh heh.....but the weather had improved....& we put our shoes on & stumbled over to franklin to le gamin, a french joint of some reknown. it had just opened for the evening & the staff seemed flustered, but once we let them know we were in a decent mood & that we would put up with only a variant of shenanigans they got their shit together PDQ and served us a very decent meal with 2 half liter carafes of red wine. /  there is so much more i could tell you about all of this, but it will have to wait for a fortnite or so, but should you be in the area, do wander in to karczma: you wont be disappointed!

a new hat in belgrade

in april 2007 i flew to belgrade, ostensibly on my way to dubrovnik, but for many reasons belgrade seemed the best port of entry that year. friends fetched me at the airport, and we went directly into town for a late lunch. or did we go directly to their apartment? ah...hindsight tells me i was taken directly to the apartment for lunch and many liters of wine. the weather was perfect, and by that i mean warm (at least 70 degrees) and a portion of blue sky. the apartment was in the old quarter, near the danube. evening rolls around and its time to go out for drinks. there is a main esplanade in belgrade....and this is where we sat, drinking even more wine. but that isnt what i am writing about. the next day i was on my own as my hosts had something boring to tend to. i dont recall if it was a family obligation or otherwise, but knowing i was a talented traveler, they left me on me own. and i went out walking and found myself in what i thought was a district similar to where we had been the day before. the river was in sight. but was it the danube or the sava? we will never know, but i went walking and turned into a narrow lane...my old, tattered dorfman blew off my head, and several locals went to fetch it for me, yet simultaneously ushering me into another narrow lane....this was, i later found out, the gypsy or roma quarter. these wonderful roma took me to their cousin's haberdashery and within minutes i had a new hat for only a handful of serbian coins!! even another lunch of lamb livers and red wine soon followed...i long to return to belgrade!

william s. burroughs' unforgettable characters

in 2001 xochi publications in brisbane, australia published 'william s. burroughs' unforgettable characters: lola "la chata" and bernabe jurado' in an edition of 123 copies. this handsome book included an essay by michael spann concerning burroughs' time in mexico, 1949-1952, and included an original piece by burroughs not yet published in english regarding his most unforgettable character: bernabe jurado. jurado was the lawyer who helped burroughs with several legal issues, including the accidental shooting of burroughs' wife, joan.
the book quickly sold out and has been unavailable for the past 10 years or so, but for quite pricy copies showing up on the internet from time to time.
inkblot publications have reissued this classic, with an expanded essay by spann, an introduction by jack sargeant, and the burroughs piece from the original printing. highly recommended, and a very handsome paperback edition, 68 pages, $10 plus shipping to the destination of your choice! please write to us with any questions: orders@aftermathbooks.com

street shots*

STREET SHOTS/HOOKY
New York City Photographs 1970s

Rich Allen

Rhode Island: City Pound Press, 2012

$35

________________________________

as an oakland native, when traveling from coast to coast or even overseas -
& all of these travels were done frequently back in the day, i was frequently
asked by those i knew and those i didn't know: 'how is san francisco' and i always
told them 'i don't know' cause i am from the east bay, which is oakland and berkeley.
& don't get me wrong, i adore san francisco, more now than when i lived across the
bay but it was always too damn cold!
but whenever i was away, a city that made a big impression on me was new york
city, and this was from approximately 1977-1985. i visited as often as could be
arranged, usually on the way back to california from europe.
the first stay was in 1977, and i stayed at the tudor hotel for a week......that
glorious 3rd week of august '77...a month after the blackout riots and the week of
the death of elvis...breakfasts were 99 cents until 11 and new york seemed to me to
be the pulse of the world, & this coming back from the first time seeing london &
paris... even tangier.
there is now a bit of nostalgia (of course!) for a broke new york city of the '70s
for many, many reasons.
rich allen's superb book of primarily black & white fotos will take you (hell, it will
take us all) back to a new york that no longer exists. allen found himself in new york
city as an aspiring filmmaker, tho circumstance dictated he take up photography while
working as a bike messenger, and living & loving, fathering a child, & just out there
living. living on the edge...he had absolutely no fear of what made new york interesting
whether its the hells angels (who were his neighbours) or the other somewhat shattered
down & out denizens of fair gotham. no one seemed to object to allen photographing
primarily human subjects, regardless of how they felt that day. a good photographer
gains trust from his or her subjects. allen has succeeded.
the book is divided into 2 parts: 'street shots' and 'hooky' and includes an 11 minute
DVD on the making of 'hooky'. ah yes, the kids of east 3rd street. disagreements with
the angels about the abandoned lot. even a few colour fotos! this book is just too fucking
real and belongs in better book collections everywhere. allen should be given a grant
from then & now for preserving what needed to be preserved. and has now published.
just the other day nick tosches phoned from sophies tavern on east 5th st, ostensibly to
order some 60s rolling stones stuff but really just to talk about old new york city.
the book will leave one wanting more.

notes from art's crab shack

i was due to fly to oakland today but have postponed due to general lethargy, apathy, dreamy presence from melting snow or what have you. the trip has been delayed. and thus the thoughts of those days will continue but for now a few words from the word scramble/collage, recounting in a certain sense those days indeed.....
***
excerpt from 'tropical delusion'
& little recall...as i devour these old oakland pages/& here is a large stack of handwritten notes which i apparently wrote in varying degrees of reality &/or intoxication at art's crab shack on broadway btwn 40th and 41st. gerard lived above art's from 1982-1984 with his first wife godolieve, affectionately known as lief. while the notes are occasionally illegible i have done my best to present some of them here:
certainly nautical mustard fried smoky windows & our hostess sucking off - - those foggy july daze & by late afternoon/ before the fog rolls back in...the doors to art's are open...tobacco wafting until low tide...she sings...bent piano keys crumble...adobe & a pith helmet...shooting up down the corridor...lost up the hill or were we in the piedmont lounge...what was her name...savage succulents screwed to oblivion & a poached omelette to go...'this ain't new york city!'...and the taxi saunters towards chinatown for out of print herbs & remedies. transparent piano keys & the proposition from a muddy haired harlot w/ sweat stained mini skirt & an ink lesion...we sit down day after day...waiting, always waiting & el nino...summer '83...no fog that year my dear!

*spiece grinders for all!* & even then as the heat can quickly dissipate into a significantly milder reality & it may have been dear tatiana who i would often see...just over there...table 6 at art's crab shack in oakland...methamphetamine evenings soon to be mornings warped out sex & a sidecar to go. oh, do cut out another line & we were off...there were never phone conversations of substance...only to arrange for powder drinking & very weird sex/that glorious summer of '85...the forgotten summer...certainly '83 has received a lot more words...& why not...the el nino year...that will never be forgotten...

happy birthday brion gysin!

yesterday was brion gysin's birthday. i probably first came across his name on the liner notes of the brian jones joujouka record, which i purchased early in 1972. the british pressing. and his name would show up every now and again, often in 'rolling stone' magazine, which was quite hip in those days and published interviews with burroughs and gysin, plus paul bowles. the named hinted of a very magical person, and not just because of the unique spelling. by 1975 i wanted to know more and had started collecting books by william s. burroughs. gysin's name was everywhere. in 1977 i went to tangier to see paul bowles,  who gave me gysin's address in paris. in 1979 gysin wrote to me with
information about the festival at joujouka. on may 5th of the next year i was at gysin's paris apartment listening to everything from his tales of moroccan music, to burroughs, to the stones. i wrote a piece about that visit which is in one of these journals over here. the may 5th visit was followed up with a visit in mid june i now realise. the article combined a summary of the 2 visits. oh, most of you havent read the piece, and i will post it in the coming days. in 1982 i started a publishing company called inkblot. to publish my own works plus those of brion gysin. by '84 i was back in europe for 6 months or so and spent a lot of time with brion, mainly in june and september. we were working on a book of his short stories from morocco in the early '50s. later published as 'stories'. brion didnt quite know what to make of me, being young and, uh.....not quite comfortable in my own damn self. but we would drink whisky (american bourbon), smoke whatever he had on hand, and talk of all hither and yon. once we went to 'flunch' for dinner. he showed me some new drawings he was working on. then we would go out for coffee. not too far from brion's place on rue st martin, across from the beaubourg center. was it the rue sebastopol? we got there one nite and the place was closed. 'how will we get to sleep without coffee?' brion proclaimed! we found another joint for an espresso or 3. i went back to my hotel de nevers, near the luxembourg gardens and slept quite well for a change.  heres to ya brion!

welsh rarebit

i first heard of bob cobbing sometime in 1983, and wrote to him at his home in london. inkblot magazine had just begun and i was looking for material for the 2nd issue. sometime that spring cobbing wrote and sent words & pictures. he also mentioned he would be in oakland in july and could he and clive crash at my flat. no problem, as small as it was.  i picked them up at the train station probably in july. they had several performances in san francisco. good stuff! and nice folks! that same week i took them up to kpfa at 4.30 on saturday morning where they performed several sound works. i still have a tape of this. course i didnt sleep much as bob was quite a snoring machine. where did i take them to drink? i just dont recall tho the obvious choice would have been bertolas. we kept in touch and i hit london october 1984, where bob and his wife hosted me at their north london house. each nite we would go to the pub. ostensibly bob had cut down on drinking and was allowed just 2 pints, plus a shot of american whiskey. if his wife was involved in the snooker he would sneak himself a third pint or a 2nd shot. when we returned to the petherton road house bob always cooked something. 'spoiled egg, spoiled fruit or spoiled welsh rarebit' would be his question. i think i often opted for the rarebit, which to my delight is broiled cheese on toast!

those days*

i realise i dont have any pictures of bertolas, outside or inside. they must exist. somewhere! but where? i visited often in the 80s. by october 1990 it was gone. i hadnt gone the last month or 2. certainly it had changed. but in those glorious days of the early and mid 80s i was there often. i miss it to this day. not just the food and drink but the atmosphere. there was a sign out front that must have amused passerby:  'HOW CAN YOU LOSE' with the drink prices which were 50 cents for a single, 75 cents for a double and $1 for a triple!! as mentioned i usually went for a double gin/tonic. by the third one ron is pouring you a triple. this was cash on the bar, no credit card or bar code. this was the real thing. it could be tough to get a slot at the bar on a busy friday or saturday, and thus i would usually avoid those nites. black & white movie posters of bogart and others on the wall. a bar entrance and a family entrance. but on one of those glorious friday or saturday nites, 23 years ago this weekend, i went to bertolas for a few drinks, and then on to the OMNI club on shattuck, which was in the old ligurian club building.....to see jack bruce play, even ginger baker was with him on drums! the mad drummer himself....oakland was a lot of fun then. it probably is now, but it isnt what it used to be, not even my beloved temescal!

bertolas

in november 1980 i moved back to north oakland after being away some 15 years. the apartment was #26 in the canadian arms, 439 49th st, 2 blocks east of telegraph. 49th street was to be home, off and on for the next 23 years. tho of course, it is still home. no one else called the building the canadian arms, but that was and is the name of the building. now i think it is even named on the directory. there was a great restaurant right down the street at 45th & telegraph called bertolas. it probably opened in the 1930s. ed jennings told me about it, tho i later found out some relatives used to eat there. but i had never been until i moved to 49th st. most people would call it an old fashioned italian restaurant: those red & white checked tablecloths, the movie posters, the bar in the middle, and the dim lights. i loved it. a typical meal would start with minestrone soup and then some salad. the salad was just iceberg lettuce with one (1) piece of salami. no tomato or onion. always a lot of bread.  then the spaghetti, which may have been served with the veal. i used to order the veal regularly. if one wanted more bread, they would bring it to you. there were always waitresses. no waiters. of course  there was also a gin & tonic at the beginning, and then cheap burgundy with the meal. later of course i used to frequent the bar, and ron would be pouring the perfect double gin/tonic when he would see me coming in. sometimes i would get a meal to go after the 2nd gin & tonic. if i got the to go meal it would be the soup and spaghetti, not the veal. bertolas may have been the only bar where i was practically a regular, tho i didnt talk to most of the other drinkers. i would eat or drink at bertolas as much alone as with friends.  and one could stumble back to the building in 5 minutes or less, always with a smile and some leftovers.....

blink & its wednesday or the aftermath of sandy

31 october 2012.
for the san francisco giants, adele parker & aleister crowley
confounding all thought remotely revealing common sense or could we possibly be there yet? saturday samarai & sushi to go. hit the p.o. early, or could it have been 11...no one really knows...but returned to the citadel for an early lunch with the circus remnants too chicken shit to leave town & i dont recall just where the fuck they were going...moldova, hoboken or niagara falls...& still havent heard. by sunday obscure gypsies & thieves were circulating in the back streets near the citadel & we found ourselves sharpening the bamboo poles we'd kept around since irene's visit some 14 months prior. back street decadence doesnt arrive until dusk...the pills had worn off as the ice clinked for the dregs of gin or was it vodka with a splash? no one can recall. a damp monday overeasy: drizzle drizzle drizzle & the kitchen window is closed for the first time in months...the usual shenanigans suspended as the rain intensifies...howlin' wind, the blues & a strongly herbed chicken. why werent you here homeboy!?! warm enough tuesday for soul searching, portofino persuasion & a casual porch conversation w/ anyone brave enough for a verbal version of what you are reading now. blink & wednesday rolls in calmly, all in all obscurely, with no demands but to kick out the jams, declare who you are (if you dare) quickly, don your true will & the hat of your choice! may the anrchist gypsy be with you

palimpsest

i met gore vidal in june 2007. uh, let me rephrase. gore came to providence to receive an award of some kind from rhode island school of design (RISD). a talk of some kind was happening, tho i think it was someone asking gore questions. he had allergies, and complained there was 'spring' in providence, which didnt occur in los angeles. he was a bit hoarse. did we need tickets? i dont recall. if we did there was no charge. what did he talk about. probably the state of the world at that time, and the horror that is good old usa. eventually, the audience asked a few questions. and like that it was all over. i have met many writers whose works i have admired. but i was trembling to speak with gore ever so briefly. we talked about brion gysin, whom he had known.. i gave him a book i had published of brion's stories in 1984. with trembling hand himself he signed my copy of 'palimpsest'.

more toast!

later, i went to live in london, april 1980 for several months. but the first trip was june of '77, a jubilee year. and today or was it yesterday, watching the boats on the thames and the queen and all made me think of that year. london was fun that year. i stayed in a small bed & breakfast out by kings cross station. 3 quid a nite. and dig this: as much toast and tea as one wanted with breakfast! the place was run by real english people. "more toast?" i loved it! and more tea! ha ha ha!! just to see all the streets that had been in stones songs. the brits were in a good mood that year, and the pound was weak against the dollar. the weather was good. the punk thing was happening but i didnt pay too much attention. "MORE TOAST?"

an odd cat: august 77

at the new york airport there was a booth where one could get help booking a hotel. the lady got on the phone. 'how much do you want to spend'. well...i dont think i said but she got me a room at the tudor hotel on east 42nd st for $20 per nite. i was pleased. i think the tudor has been remodeled now, but the rooms back then were very small. which was fine with me. new york still felt like the old days. breakfasts were 99 cents until 11 a m. eggs toast, juice etc. do these places still exist?? the 2nd nite i went to the yankees/white sox game. it was a see-saw affair. this may have been august 17th. i dont remember who won. back at the tudor the TV mentioned the news about presley. the next day i phoned a j weberman, the dylanologist. his name and phone number were at the back of the paperback edition of scaduto's dylan bio. he lived on bleecker st. near the bowery. 'i'm selling the masters' he said. it seems columbia was giving him some shit about selling copies of his unreleased dylan tapes. so i went over there. he was an odd cat. there was a big painting in his place of dylan shooting up. i think the lady who was there had made the painting. weberman seemed, uh.... well, he was nice enough but not particularly friendly. he sold me 50 reels of unreleased dylan for $100. thats right folks, $2 per tape. i must have dragged them back to the tudor. and they eventually flew back with me to california. they brought me much joy over the coming months. fortunately, several people i knew in the bay area made reel to reel copies of these tapes, which is fortunate, as my tape collection has gotten scattered over the years, as careful as i am with my archival materials. i called weberman 2 years later but he pretended he didnt remember me OR the tapes. an odd cat.

after bathing at baxters

on this day in 1968 i saw jefferson airplane, live, in california. this was probably the first concert i saw, other than the symphony. there was a great light show. and while i dont recall the song listing there is no doubt it was a great show, being the airplane afterall. drag out that copy of baxters folks, still one of the greatest records ever, and what a cover!

not so long ago

several months ago someone asked me to tell them about the time i went over to see a j weberman in new york city to purchase some dylan tapes, in fact in august of '77. i said ok, but before i go into that i should preface the story with how i came to be in new york in the first place. well...35 years ago next week i left for my first trip to europe. ostensibly to buy records, and to visit morocco. both of which happened. left out of frisko...to new york...to iceland to change planes...landed in luxembourg....spent the next 6 weeks or so in germany, france, england - - with a delightful trip down to cornwall - - amsterdam, et al. eventually i went down to the south of france to see where the stones recorded 'exile'. in the delightful village of villefrance sur mer. i also saw nice for the first time. then it was train travel down the coast of spain, with a nite in valencia near the bull ring, and a night in marbella. then the ferry from algeciras to tangier. i wanted to talk to paul bowles about moroccan music. and i did. every day for 3 weeks. came back with 6 or 7 hours of cassette tapes. well, i missed a day. 'where were you yesterday' he asked. i dont remember! then, it was back to france for the flight to new york city for 5 days or so before returning to california...

ege bamyasi

its not that i havent wanted to speak with you, but there obviously have to have been some distractions these past few months. / not that i can mention them coherently right now, so you're going to have to trust me. but these past few weeks have been rather rainy, after a somewhat dry spring. we were gifted a dragon, so we should be able to put forth some transcriptions of what we affectionately refer to as kitchen table ramblings, maybe even prior to the solstice. finishing up 'always in trouble: the oral history of ESP Disk', a book recommended to all. the latest bernie krause title is also over here on the table. am also trying to make some sense of a manuscript i've been working on for years, ostensibly a memoir entitled 'tropical delusion'. most of it is written, we just have to shuffle some paragraphs around. wear white if you're on your bike, and do check back soon now, eh?