The Ghost Says Boo

must start thinking like lorca

2012-01-24T13:46:00.001-08:00

2012-01-09T09:40:00.001-08:00

We're Invisible Now by We're Invisible Now

2012-01-06T23:29:00.001-08:00

2011-12-29T12:16:00.001-08:00

deirdre singing "pop life"

2011-12-18T23:47:00.001-08:00

chromes - william eggleston

2011-12-16T13:47:00.001-08:00

northern england

2011-12-16T13:45:00.002-08:00

FLAMIN GROOVIES Slow Death Live TV 1972

2011-11-22T22:30:00.000-08:00

LIllian Hellman

2011-11-22T21:59:00.001-08:00

graham greene - a burnt out case

2011-11-22T21:50:00.001-08:00

I went to Belgian Congo in January 1959 with a new novel already beginning to form in my head by way of a situation -- a stranger who turns up in a remote leper settlement for no apparent reason...Never had a novel proved more recalcitrant or more depressing. The reader had only to endure the company of the burnt-out character called in the novel Querry for a few hours' reading, but the author had to live with him and in him for eighteen months. - graham greene

the summit part 2

2011-11-22T21:29:00.001-08:00

the summit of cote des neiges 2 by Micro Fractures

deirdre, ontario street.

2011-11-22T21:24:00.001-08:00

Tryon Point Road, Prince Edward Island

2011-11-22T20:57:00.001-08:00

we're invisible now

2011-11-17T09:33:00.001-08:00

We're Invisible Now by We're Invisible NowThese are songs recorded with a rock band in 2010 and 2011. damon plays bass, deirdre sings, scott sings and plays guitar and keyboards. ken drums on everything but you're on your own which has stacy drumming.

we're invisible now - divided by six

2011-11-11T19:32:00.000-08:00

The Kingdom of Ontario

2011-11-03T08:44:00.000-07:00

The Kingdom of Ontario by We're Invisible Now

we're invisible now - long were the waves

2011-11-01T14:49:00.000-07:00

Marc Ribot Y Los Cubanos Postizos, Como Se Goza En El Barrio, NYC 6-30-1...

2011-10-28T21:12:00.000-07:00

Deirdre at the break water.

2011-10-21T14:27:00.002-07:00

october 20

2011-10-20T22:18:00.001-07:00

We're Invisible Now - I Can See the Lies Behind Your Eyes

2011-09-16T08:50:00.000-07:00

deirdre aug 31 2011 9:19pm

2011-09-01T08:04:00.000-07:00

We're Invisible Now - You're On Your Own

2011-08-10T07:40:00.000-07:00

Sir Douglas Quintet - "Mendocino" - 25 January 1969, Playboy After Dark

2011-08-08T19:50:00.000-07:00

2011-07-27T00:37:00.002-07:00

below here are a bunch of posts pertaining to our past musical history together and apart.

the summit of cote des neiges by micro fractures

2011-07-26T17:00:00.007-07:00

the summit of cote des neiges by Micro Fractures

these recordings are from jan 2002 to apr 2003.

The Monster Movie

2011-07-26T16:30:00.001-07:00

the monster movie by the monster movie

sometime in 2004 deirdre, brian and i played for a bit with deirdre's sister sylvie and our friend chris clow. sylvie played tambourine and chris played drums. deirdre played rhodes.

The Squarewaves

2011-07-26T16:00:00.007-07:00

squarewaves by the squarewaves

we recorded these songs at our rehearsal space at christmas 2004. andy - drums and rhodes, brian bass, synth and harmonica, deirdre voice and synth, scott guitar and synth.

after hotel dieu by micro fractures

2011-07-26T13:40:00.005-07:00

After Hotel Dieu by Micro Fractures

these songs were recorded in the sun room of our apartment at esplanade street in montreal sometime in 2006.

when the bee stings by micro fractures

2011-07-21T14:03:00.009-07:00

When the Bee Stings by Micro Fractures

we moved to victoria british columbia in march 2007. we recorded these in 2007 and 2008. german played on campfires and we like trouble.

valley of the giants

2011-07-18T15:43:00.004-07:00

in 2004 we helped in the recording of these songs.

deirdre and i wrote the words and melody for a song called westworld.

deirdre also wrote the words and melody for a song called bala bay inn.

on the bowery by shalabi effect

2011-07-17T23:09:00.002-07:00

in 2001 deirdre sang on a song called on the bowery on the shalabi effect's first record.

here's the video made for the song.

first strawberry tape

2011-07-16T15:37:00.006-07:00

Strawberry by strawberry

first tape recorded live to 4 track. deirdre sings, mike and craig play percussion pat plays guitar. recorded 1993.

i'm not an adult by down

2011-07-16T14:26:00.007-07:00

i'm not an adult by down

recorded in 1994. brian guitar and voice, scott guitar and voice, simon drums, troy bass, suzie voice, mike drums.

beached(2nd tape) by strawberry

2011-07-15T15:37:00.016-07:00

Beached by strawberry

deirdre sings and plays piano and tin whistle, mike plays drums and percussion, pat plays guitar, brian plays bass, scott plays guitar. recorded 1995, tea hill, prince edward island.

harley street basement recordings by strawberry

2011-07-14T15:36:00.004-07:00

Harley Street Basement by strawberry

recorded on 4 track in 1996 at harley street, charlottetown, prince edward island. deirdre sings, simon drums, pat guitar, brian bass, scott guitar, voice.

photos by nicole balderston

photos by john boylan

cartoon by greg webster

Strawberry Plays The Seven Eyeball Waltz

2011-07-13T15:36:00.003-07:00

Strawberry Plays The Seven Eyeball Waltz by strawberry

recorded on 24 track 2" tape in 1997. deirdre sings, billy drums, pat guitar and voice, brian bass, scott guitar and voice.

brokeheart audio by strawberry

2011-07-12T15:35:00.005-07:00

Brokeheart Audio by strawberry

recorded on 8 track adat, 4track cassette, and 24 track 2" tape in 1997 and 1998. deirdre sings, jon plays drums, brian bass, scott guitar and singing. with anthony guitar, kevin synth, pat guitar, billy drums, jon a. synth.

photos by anthony and scott. illustrations by deirdre.

viva me by strawberry

2011-07-11T15:35:00.006-07:00

Viva Me by strawberry

recorded on 8 track 1/2" tape in 1999 and 2000, mixed on cubase. deirdre voice, synths, jon drums, brian bass, synths, scott guitar, organ, voice.

2011-05-28T21:58:00.000-07:00

2011-04-25T23:00:00.006-07:00

roy lichtenstein - Red Painting (Brushstroke) 1965.

2010-11-29T09:43:00.001-08:00

2010-11-25T12:46:00.000-08:00

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock - T.S. Eliot (1917)

2010-09-30T17:50:00.002-07:00

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

2010-09-14T21:59:00.004-07:00