1 | edward mycue

June 1st, 2008 at 10:05 am

i have your site on my drop-down bar and when i see ‘bigstarlet’ i almost always read in my mind BIGSCARLET not bigstarlet. i thinknow that is
because you are not ‘little’ like an “anything”-let
but have the energy and vibrancy of the scarlet
ohara character vivian leigh protrayed in “gone with the wind”. (did you ever notice the ’scar’ in scarlet? one does notice the ’star’ in starlet that refers to a star-in-the-making.) (a scar is a mark a brand.) there is nothing diminished about your life force. scar as in the hero scaramouche. a swashbuckling character with the sword, heroic, dashing (think ZORRO, SCARLET PIMPERNEL) but as in rafael sabatini’s novel goes in disguise as a roguish clown (going back to 17th century commedia del arte, puppet shows). as to the clown character in recent literature i think that the nobel laureate heinrich boll’s THE CLOWN is the iconic portrayal of THE ARTIST. (He also wrote GROUP PORTRAIT WITH LADY.) your life is your journey and you are your own ship even when some coracle or bark–one fully infused with your enormous vitality aloft a bird or even winged mythical beast–a griffin, a phoenix–or the gay gerfalcon in robert duncan’s ‘MY MOTHER WOULD BE A FALCONRESS”.(go read joseph duemer’s may 23 post with the poem and a recording of robert duncan reading it on his site http://www.sharpsand.net –it may be a poem you know already.
today is june first. i returned for good (although
i didn’t know it then) to san francisco on june 1, 1970 in the back of a san francisco mime troup prop van (in it’s return from a los angeles gig –my sister margo mycue the booking manager got me the ride: i was returning from 3 self exile wanderyears in europe on my way to vancouver, canada to get “landed” as i thought then.) one day short of a year later i met richard steger the painter (27; i, 34) on memorial day sunday at a donald pipin’s classical concert in the big back room of the spaghetti factory in north beach san francisco/ green & grant streets. so here in san francisco i have landed, remained. richard and i went back there last night for dinner: spaghetti factory’ s called “Boce” now and just emptying then of a large group of bikers (who today beign the AIDS ride to los angeles). within a short time was refilled with the senior prom begowned lovelies from alameda island high school. (the gowns were lush, the girls amazingly bosomly and like the fresh faced variously tuxedoed boys awkward in their lovely/loud perambulations among the tables & restaurant.) at the table next to us on a higher bench level were 3 gay young men sparkling and too involved with their own
blossoming adulthood to enjoy the spectacles
(themselves part of the great mix there).
wish you and mike might’ve been with rick & me.
love, power to the starletscarlet, ed