Category Archives: Thoughts

Do all trees weep?

By Sam L. Richards | Published: June 28, 2011
Do all trees weep, Or do they stand and Suffer us to live beneath Them unawares That there are those whose height And times stretch further than Our own, Whose reach is more eternal And whose loyalty is pure, unfeigned And firm from earth to sky?
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Our Winter’s Hero

By Sam L. Richards | Published: January 18, 2011
Under the weathered awning, the vagrant’s joints began To ache, hiding from the rain, he scratched his Roughened, feeble knees and cast his sunken eyes Up and down the thoroughfare. Storm subsiding, and Then a biting wind. He had sat there long enough To know a cold snap when he felt it, twitched his Hirsute [...]
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The desert island

By Sam L. Richards | Published: November 19, 2010
I’m beginning to acquire a practical understanding of just how futile artwork is in a vacuum. I believed it before. I knew it in my mind. But I now feel it sinking into my gut. Actually experiencing it is something else entirely. Although I would likely dance on a desert island, and probably clang coconuts [...]
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My favorite anti-organicism-musical-anecdote of the day

By Sam L. Richards | Published: October 27, 2010
“Debussy once left a concert hall in the middle of a Beethoven symphony, complaining ‘Oh no, now he starts to develop.’” — As reported in Eero Tarasti’s Signs of Music: A Guide to Musical Semiotics
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Mahogany Gallant

By Sam L. Richards | Published: September 22, 2010
Mahogany gallant         Kinkade treasures         giddy frappes and cappuccino cluttered corners         contribute to it. That’s what I say         Am I in this triptych?         Take me outside, tuckered up and running         night’s pitch and stoking stars brighten shades. Witness this, the best of all.
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September Haiku in Michigan

By Sam L. Richards | Published: September 5, 2010
Yesterday fall struck In the winds I can smell the trees turn to rainbows
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More meta-drivel (or not). The poetic residue lives on.

By Sam L. Richards | Published: August 9, 2010
Inspired by the poetic residue I discovered in my sketchbooks, I’ve taken to writing more frequently lately. For the past few days, after I crawl into bed I’ve doodled words into my “to-do’s” notebook driven on by my state of hypnagogic delirium. Here are the results. Some are silly, some are elegant, and some are [...]
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Good ol’ Bertrand: Another brief jab at the historical obsession in music education

By Sam L. Richards | Published: August 3, 2010
Those of you who have heard or read my ranting about how obsessed with the past music education is (especially compared to the other arts!) will not be at all surprised by my attraction to this jewel of a quotation plucked from Bertrand Russell’s oeuvre. I rediscovered it yesterday while venturing into the climes of my [...]
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Some poetic residue

By Sam L. Richards | Published: July 20, 2010
The nature of my creative process leaves me with sketchbooks littered with seemingly disassociated concepts. Stray idea gobs hang from folded corners, and outlines of amoebas filled with gorgeousness sit atop the pages. Sometimes I glance back, even just a few days, discovering snippets that could easily have been penned by someone else, because I [...]
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My Articulation Engine

By Sam L. Richards | Published: July 15, 2010
I like feeding ambiguity through my mind’s articulation engine, like routing disparate threads through a loom; what was once detached and meaningless becomes interwoven and enriched by its now sensical and codified surroundings.
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