Today i was feeling. Melancholy and Shakespeare's birthday. Shakespeare's epitaph.

A poem about putting an old cat to rest in a flower garden.

put out of place by someone who felt like Welsh kin

Driving down the main tourist drive in an imaginary Fiat convertible; 1960's French Pop droning the mixed chatter.

"NO" Signs- left and right. No- this. No- That.

Haunting female vocals and dusty guitar strings rattle the speakers creating an electric scent of ungrounded beautiful power, only every experienced in my Grandma's basement before 1990.

Some how, i think now, the process is most important...

This is the first video shot with my new camera i have had for 3 months.

I sort of miss the tapes. Pressing pause; record. And the tape didn't lie.

I may have found some pleasure in the process of high resolution video, saved to a SD card- today.... But It was only frustration.

Each edit made resulted from a 2-5 second "Scrub" delay, estimated from how many inches it took up in the window, based on my memory of how long each clip was. I basically had no idea how long each edit might be in relation to the song, which i had never even heard in completion.

I downloaded, Ada Jones' "I'm in Love with a Slide Trombone" From Archive.org. The song is over 100 years old, so it is free (i think)

So the process of this video & edit was completed in one day, which in this case is nice, because of my ever dithering memory. The process was jumpy, and full of guessing... It was completely chronological--- which for me, is the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes, i think/

Once the final edit was made- I exported it and watched it for the first time....

This is what came out.

PS. Walking down the abandoned runway built in the 40's on top of a cultural site, and shut down in the 70's--- I can't help thinking that Dean Martin, and JFK walked down the same runway after a long smokey flight.

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