fear not the art

well, it's finally done. the peptides (aka claude) officially launched the debut cd, i'm a spy, at a magical tiki-torch lit party that took place on sunday night. i've been going back and forth all week on what to say about it. because there's so much. but the so-called wordsmith has had trouble giving description to it all.




claude sailed
through the set
we played
to an
adoring crowd...

sans puking.








oh sure, i could be all objectivey about it and say the cd project has been fascinating to observe, the music is really fucking good, buy it! yay! tell your friends! i could say that the pink house entourage far outdid itself in throwing what could easily be classified as the best party of 07. i could talk about how fun and exciting it has been to be involved in any way shape or form in this, claude's newest creative journey. but it'd all fall quite short of The Point.

to the naked eye, claude is an intrepid artist who moves seamlessly from one form of creative expression to another. and that naked eye would be right. but with this crazy music thing, my friend has truly climbed a mountain. and he has turned around. he calls it his 'stay of execution'... i call it moving.

those of us who muse about the muse would do well to take a cue from the peptides. true artists know all about risk. they flirt with and conquer it every day. but too many of us linger long at the precipice, paralyzed by fear and excuses and whatever other nonsense tells us to stay safe. but art should never be safe. whether it's a humble home-recording thing like claude's or a big fat poetry manuscript, we have GOT to bear down and push out the thing. release it. put it out there. free fall.

in my few seconds worth of unrehearsed remarks at sunday's launch, i'd intended to say something about my friend's Labour of Love. i failed to do that, fumbling instead through a corny toast about artists and quality material and free cocktails. what i might have said, had it not been for all the pre-performance 'panty removers' (bartender's name - not mine - for gin & tonics), is this: you are bearing witness to the taking of an enormous risk for someone you'd think is long accustomed to the creative stretch. sure, the album is a labour of love. but it is much more: a labour of guts, of vulnerability, loss, fear. it has pushed him further than even the most resilient risk-taking artist might try to go. it may well be his most important milestone to date, and should make anyone incubating an art idea want to just set that bastard free.

at the risk of over-shmaltzing this thing to the point where claude will totally disown me, suffice it to say that i'm overwhelmingly proud of my boy. but much of what i'm saying and feeling here has nothing to do with my boy at all. i'm talking about telling fear to Fuck Off. i'm talking about inspiration, people, and how we should grab it wherever it appears. and how we needn't always gawk up at the big shit for it, either. it can be small, but it's there. just squint.

it would seem artists make art because they have no choice: it's what they must do. in seemingly small ways, we put our shit Out There and in doing so, perhaps only experience as small pods of allies the momentousness of our artistic achievements. but cumulatively, what brightening of the world occurs.

i applaud you, my claude, and i thank you. for so many things.