Second verse of “Spark of Life” Song by Tony Chapman and “The Civilized Animal 1” picture by Tony Chapman.

“when winter comes in and the leaves are dying
when blizzards sting and your soul is crying
your father gives up,  your mother falls on the floor
The Spark of Life is still there, to reach for”.

“cowboy hat number 5” by Tony Chapman.

Spark of Life song by Tony Chapman VERSE 1  …

(VERSE 2 coming soon)

when the road is broken and the path is bent
when words that were spoken didn’t say what they meant
when a rabbit is caught by an inocent eagle’s claw
the spark  of life is still there  to reach for

harmonica thoughts

I started playing harmonica at 15 yrs old. I only just found out I can tune it, replace reeds , keep it going forever it, maintain it. The number of harmonicas I threw away and bought new ones which were very often, also out tune or not in concert pitch. Now I find out I completely wrong …all because of the INTERNET!

🙂 it’s a like miracle actually. I could rarely find a harmonica that would play in tune with the piano. Now I can actually tune them!

Palace of Versailles (poem) by Tony Chapman

Poem by Robert Desnos

Robert Desnos

I’ve Dreamed of You So Much

I’ve dreamed of you so much that you’re losing your reality.
Is it already too late for me to embrace your living and breathing body
and to kiss that mouth which is the birthplace of that voice so dear to me?
I’ve dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown accustomed to lying crossed upon my own chest in a desperate attempt to encircle your shadow, might not be able to unfold again to embrace the contours of your body.
And coming face-to-face with the actual incarnation of what has haunted me and ruled me and dominated my life for so many days and years
might very well turn me into a shadow.
Oh equilibriums of the emotional scales!
I’ve dreamed of you so much that it might be too late for me to ever wake up again.
I sleep on my feet, body confronting all the usual phenomena of life and love, and yet when it comes to you,
the only being on the planet who matters to me now,
I can no more touch your face and lips than I can those of the next random passerby.
I’ve dreamed of you so much, have walked and talked and slept so much with your phantom presence that perhaps the only thing left for me to do now
is to become a phantom among phantoms, a shadow a hundred times more shadowy
than that shadow which moves and will go on moving,
stepping lightly and joyfully across the sundial of your life.

A la mystérieuse 1926

Maze Drawing 104 by Tony Chapman

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Dance of the foot SOLDIER

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Sorry about this one, it scares even me.

Carmen, the Goddess of war.

Carmen, the Goddess of war, carrying a six shooter in each breast pocket, carries out silent, ear-splitting, exploitative experiments on the subway passengers, who, heads hidden behind pink Financial Times’ sheets, try desperatley to hide their shame and their granduer from the all-seeing eye of the ticket conductor, who tight-rope walks between the seats, from one end of the rattling, circus-tent train, to the other