Monday 14 Juillet!!!

Must greet Isild on Bastille Day!

Sunday I presented p.s. beirut at the Opera House before Ellen Kuras' NERAKHOON. I mentioned how I approached Ellen several years ago about shooting a feature in Beirut and how happy I was to find a turtle in her film!

She feels that my film is a kind of key to understanding how to read hers, so I was happy that they could be shown together (again tonight!). I also could not help but threaten a return next year with more of my film and, if in the Opera house, a personal singing performance!

After watching my film I wandered in to the bright warm day. Around the corner on Temple Street I found a small Lebanese restaurant! It is only open during the week so I plan to go there before I leave on Wednesday.

Later that evening I saw a most special film THE SILENCE BEFORE BACH, an extraordinary fantastic homage to and reading of the artist and the music. One scene had a moving subway car filled with cellists performing!

Yesterday I visited Barbara and Dan, with whom I stayed here in 1991. At that time they showed me property they had purchased out of town. We had breakfast in the beautiful house there now. It sits on a large area of bird nesting grasses and, in the trees, hang nests of Baltimore Orioles! The river that runs by is now back to a lower level since the removal of a damn upstream. It is restoring the fish and other natural habitat wonders, and delicately relocating mussels.

Ned arrived in time for Kobayashi's SAMURAI REBELLION with Toshiro Mifune and music by Takemitsu! We then had dinner with Jeffrey Lewis. Before I introduce my film Luna, Claire Pijman's daughter and turtle from the beginning, handed me a drawing of a ladybug. I spoke only a few words and through tears to dedicate the screening to Stanton Mirana, who recorded with Arthur Russell, to Ned Richardson who has made my work and life possible, and to my favorite turtle Luna.

I watched WILD COMBINATION on the big screen for the first time and it was more beautiful. Afterwards Arthur's parents, sisters, boyfriend and Steve Knutson shared the Q & A with Matt. It was a most special evening.

Today I am exhausted and resting a lot. Ned and I had a light lunch at the Lebanese restaurant. We present our film again with NERAKHOON tonight then run over to the Opera House where Claire and Flip Scipio will present TALKING GUITARS.

Tuesday 15 July

Meta-morning. Woke early and had cereal and tried to get more sleep. I worried not to have enough and I woke with that worry lingering over from a dream. A Calvino rest! I also was trying to find a copy of the current New Yorker in a Paris newsstand. The one with the wonderful Obama spoof on the cover.

Yesterday was tough and presenting my film the hardest, but Ned said I was clear and fine. I know I am overdoing it and I feel that I must continue to push my limits, to a point. I expect that I will know when I might go too far and stop. If I have already done so, I also know in time I will recover.

I began with a swim at the Holiday Inn. The patina of the pool's surface spoke of Beirut during the war. The Holiday Inn there did figure greatly in the fighting and damage! Perhaps it is an imported design? I seem to run in to this city everywhere. Or keep returning.

Saw Flip and Mitzy on their arrival and made it to the introduction of Claire's TALKING GUITARS, but could not stay. I will join them this afternoon for their second screening.

Still have not seen Isild! With Ned here my little time is full, nicely so, and her screenings have been too late for me. I hear all is going well and I am happy for that. We are sure to meet in NYC soon and share our festival adventures.

Haroun's film DARATT was beautiful in frame, palette, rhythm and story set and filmed in Chad. I was happily reminded that Simon Field had told me about this film when I saw his producing credit at the end. Miranda's song SUDAN began playing again in my head. It was her first single with SUBWAY, a classic. Haroun was staying at my B & B, a most lovely man.

MHS

In 2 hours I will present p.s. Beirut at the Opera House here in Waterville, Maine, as part of the Maine International Film Festival. It will precede Ellen Kuras' NERAKHOON and I will tell the audience that Ellen feels my film shows the way to view hers. I am sorry neither she nor Thavi could be here.

Now I must write my Arthur Russell story for the screening tomorrow with Matt Wolf's WILD COMBINATION: THE STORY OF ARTHUR RUSSELL.

ARTHUR RUSSELL

I first saw Arthur in the early 1970's in Camden, N.J., playing acoustic guitar for Allen Ginsberg on Walt Whitman Day. I met Arthur in NY at a poetry reading during one of many trips to St. Mark's on the Bowery to hear the likes of Ginsberg, Burroughs and Patti Smith. One evening Arthur invited me to a party at Ginsberg's apartment following a reading and a photo of me ended up in People magazine! I don't remember meeting Arthur again until I went to work at The Kitchen in 1975 where he had been music director.

Arthur maintained a strong presence at The Kitchen and I often went to see him perform his instrumentals or in an ever-changing rock band. He would give me tapes of his work and I included him on a compilation LP for Les Disques du Crèpuscule, a Belgian label I worked with. Arthur also played cello on an instrumental track of Thick Pigeon, the band name of my girlfriend Stanton Miranda.

For a brief period I worked with his partner in Sleeping Bag records, Will Sokolov, and the band Quando Quango of Factory Records. It was the time that I went to hear Larry Levan at the Paradise Garage and also shot part of my first music video there with New Order for "Confusion", directed by Charles Sturridge and shot by Ed Lachman. I am getting off track (but that's how we lived back then - off track!).

In the spring of 2006, when Turtle began at Chelsea Space in London, Steve Knutson sent me a beautiful package with a DVD of Arthur performing at Phil Niblock's studio. It was mesmerizing and became an important part of turtle playing almost every day for 6 weeks. Everyone who saw it was moved, enchanted, and this continued through Düsseldorf and other turtles. I have always described turtle as built on the foundation of Derek Jarman, Lawrence Weiner and Arthur Russell. Sadly Derek and Arthur are no longer with us, but their work and spirit are, and thankfully in abundance!

Turtle has plans for Arthur Russell events in London and Paris with this wonderful film and live performances, interpretations and shared spirits.

I am honored to have my film in conversation with Matt's film - a beautiful sèance of which you are a part. Let's Go Swimming!

MHS

I am just back from showing p.s. beirut. It feels good. Small audience (a beautiful sunny afternoon) but I was able to relax and say more than I expected. The projection could have been brighter and more colorful, and there was a glitch in the sound (that could be on the master - must check) but I was not and am not upset. For me the film is a living thing, with good days and bad, like myself, like Beirut itself!

I have been thinking of Beirut in terms of the brain and its plasticity. Today I wrote two architect friends, one from Beirut and the other Berlin, and proposed we explore Beirut in terms of its plastiCity. When I was recovering in hospital and felt that I had to return to my film through my body, my "corporeal civil war". I thought of my footage of bandaged headlights and crazy masses of wires - a bricolage - and the fetishism of destroyed buildings. Only now, as I continue my journey of repair and the potential in the brain's plasticity, did I realize the city is part of this description of repair. Perhaps, like turtle, I need to place a "magic carpet" inside my head? What could that be? A good question for Dr. McDonald!

New York City.

"It smells so incredibly evil. I didn't know such a place existed like this except in my imagination." "I have no country, and the more I see of countries, the better I like the idea."

Last night I watched Josef von Sternberg's "Shanghai Gesture". The quote of the smell of evil by Gene Tierney's character "Poppy" I had considered using in my film "Souvenir", and the other of the Russian bartender still rings clear. For the first time I saw a link to his von Sternberg's last film, "The Saga of Anatahan" which I was lucky to see at the Cinémathèque de Chaillot in Paris.

This morning has been an early gem. I took Jonathan Cott's interview with Glenn Gould off the shelf and a subway downtown to shop for food. The stores would not open for another hour so I went in to a café, continued my coffee drinking, and I laughed and cried with what I have not read for many years.

Gould has always been a part of my life, but heightened last year when Chris Marker sent me a "Ghost of Glenn Gould", the recent Zenph re-performance of his 1955 Goldberg Variations recital. I listen to this almost every day, at times missing his humming. This morning I read that he would have eliminated the humming from recordings, via equalization or other means, so perhaps this recording is truly of his ghost!

Finally I have found someone with the score to Satie's 'Petite Ouverture à Danser"! Adrianna Amari plays Satie and the piece is a discovery for her! She will perform it as part of turtle in Baltimore on 31 July as part of a film and poetry program.

On the train here yesterday I began to write lyrics for "I always wanted to wear white", the title of a yet made film work by Lawrence Weiner and myself. Since voice is part of my training in recovery, and I am enjoying singing the arietta "Caro Mio Ben," why not write something which I could sing as a character?! Thinking Gilbert & Sullivan...

The other night I watched a film of great poetry, DAYS IN SINTRA, a portrait of the last days in exile of filmmaker Glauber Rocha in 1981, Sintra, Portugal. It was made recently by his wife, Paula Gaitán, after what she says was a needed distance of time. How distance cab bring one so close, to the soul and poetry of a person, a time and a place. It is here in this film, a true inspiration to filmmaking, to life. "The mobility of thought". I hope that "p.s. Beirut" can share in its way, its chemin, of all colors!

In six days will be the "official" premiere of PS BEIRUT at the Maine Film Festival (Gianvito played it unannounced before his wonderful PROFIT MOTIVE at the recent Maryland Film Festival). I look forward to share this with my daring colleagues Maine who both showed SOUVENIR and tried to distribute it!

SOUVENIR's story continues as Claire Pijman will be there to present her new TALING GUITARS, and we will have the opportunity to make final corrections to the subtitles of Souvenir before she can make a master for a DVD! Finally, it will be available - made in Holland! And on Monday I see Alex Arce (Arce & Kwan) who made the titles credits for Souvenir and hopefully can provide us with the one missing title.

Now I must rest. It is nice to be back in touch. I will try to keep more notes and share with you. MHS

Back from Vermont. Getting ready for Maine. And turtle here in Baltimore. John Gianvito is back from the Philippines, diving in to his edit. He won't be able to be here to present his film but his spirit will be. Baltimore reveals magic to me, slowly, and I have met an angel turtle, Adrianna Amari. Adrianna's book of her photographs in local cemeteries in dialog with Ted Berrigan's poems will be a part of our evening here on July 31st.

The shape of the day. A day on the lake with sun. A fresh baked strawberry-rhubarb pie. "The Plague of Doves" by Louise Erdrich. I tried to make it last but the pages ran out. I noted the character's name SHAMENGWA, butterfly in the Ojibwa (American Indian) language. A violin player, he had a deformed arm. As he tells, "So I was, like most artists, deformed by my art. I was shaped". Further on "...the lost architecture of her bones." Erdrich sings the heart and the soul. I will burn back to Joyce Carol Oates' "Wild Nights". Beware and relish the storms!

Yes, I am alive. Coming across this I thought it worth mentioning
www.squidproject.net a most wonderful idea.

What have I been doing? Too much to tell, not enough yet but all that I can do.

This is what I never posted

Tuesday 27 May

I begin again. It is always again. Always a beginning from an end, a brief stop. A week ago I learned that the scar in my brain is in deep. That the brain's ability to compensate for such scars are those near to the surface. It was almost like hearing a doctor in hospital use the term "brain damage" referring to me! This time, however, I could be more reflective in a conscious way. Ok, so it is harder for me, but I can still try! So I continue on. Martina Radwan spoke of the sunlight on the hand of the woman at the end of Chapter 1 of ps Beirut. I never saw it before. I saw the hand, and of course it was illuminated. I shot it and it means something to my edit. I just never considered the source. Of course Martina did - she is a camerawoman. But is that all? A work stays alive as each person has a unique reading within an overall response. These are the details of life. That hand carrying that sunlight of Beirut will be held to people in Maine, Melbourne, Trieste...

Back to Thursday. I was in NY last weekend to produce a master of p;s; Beirut for the festivals mentioned above. It has now been invited to Vancouver as well.

It should have been easy but for me it took a lot of energy. But I got it done and I had some luck. But it also showed that I am far from being able to return to my edit.

On Friday I went swimming but forgot my goggles so I lasted only 30 laps. Upon leaving I found a message from Postworks, the production house, that they were ready for me. It was after 4 and I had just enough time to run home and get my computer and hard drive and make it back downtown. We finished in time for me to make my voice/singing lesson. When I left the lesson a dinner date with Haale was cancelled so I was able to walk down to the IFC theater, where we did turtle recently, in order to meet Guy Maddin who was introducing his film MY WINNEPEG. It is a wonderful film, true film magic, that I saw at the Tribeca film festival and I was lucky to arrive to watch the last 10 minutes again. Ah, the perfect 1.33 academy frame! Afterwards I ran in to his publicist Susan Norget, an old friend who is also working Ellen Kuras' NERAKHOON. I walked them to a bar and went on to pick up dinner to eat quietly at home.

I then burned a dvd of the work we did earlier and discovered that it was in mono! So I had to alert the company that I needed to return Monday morning to fix this before I left town at noon.

Slowly over the weekend I entered in to my film program 20-minutes at a time and was able to fix the problem. It would make my time at the production house a mere 5-minutes! Or so I thought.

During this time I was able to look at some of the footage waiting to speak but I was quickly fatigued and could only promise a return.

That evening NERAKHOON was having its official premier at the Human Rights Festival at Lincoln Center so I made my way up to congratulate Ellen and Thavi. I dodged thunderstorms and it was exciting! New York was alive! And so was I...

I cannot remember Sunday but for meeting Haale for and early dinner at Hasaki. Haale is a musician I met at Turtle in the Tank. Her boyfriend played percussion with Christina Courtin. We bonded through shamanistic dialog and followed up at St. Marks Books where I introduced her to Inger Christensen.

Monday morning I returned to Postworks and I was able to address a sound level issue to much relief! I also heard a voice, the voice of Sam, Samantha, and I think it will find its way in to p.s. Beirut.

a bricolage of scars, traces of repair
iconic meditations on the other side of war

Before I left for NY a film festival asked for "one line" to describe my film for their catalog. Besides likening this to a Hollywood pitch I felt it impossible. On the train I was trying to read, then listen to music, but I had a fierce headache. For some reason I began writing phrases that meant something and at some point I put together the above lines that I felt best represented the film, both in content and form. I felt like I was actually editing the film, and I was working on it in some way, this being the beginning of showing it.

I must thank Olaf Moeller for igniting this result.

Oh, the other thing being done that weekend in NY was the titles and credits to my first film TRIBECA which is showing this weekend in Manchester at the TONY WILSON EXPERIENCE (www.tonywilsonexperience.com). I was to participate but such travel is still too much for me so I thought this film, which I made with Tony in 1980, would best represent our friendship and work together.

Nobu of Virtual Beauty designed the titles and we worked by email so I did not even have to go in to the production house (but it still took a lot out of me to organize!). Nobu will actually be there as a guest on his way back to Tokyo, a little token of thanks for his doing this gratis! And thank you Jane Nisselson for making this happen!

I would like to take turtle to Manchester next year, but first there is Paris!

Paris has been taking most of my time. More on that soon, but I better get this off, so goodbye from your silent filmmaker, MHS

To follow p.s. Beirut, here are the festival sites:

www.miff.org

www.melbournefilmfestival.com.au/index.php

www.viff.org/home.html

Some turtle fotos to share:

This was the entrance to TURTLE IN THE TANK. Jeffrey Lewis was happy to find it is with the COLLECTIVE UNCONCIOUS which he used to visit at another location.

Here is the marquis for the IFC screenings.

John Vanco of IFC speaks with Ellen Kuras and Thovisouk Phrasavathafter the screening of their film NERAKHOON.

Here is NERAKHOON producer Flora Fernandez(left) with Thavi (center) and Ellen (right) after the screening.

OED Online Word of the Day
noose, v.
   b. To hang; to put to death by hanging (occas. with up). (intr. in quot. 1664 at sense 1b.)

This was received 8 May, the day turtle presented the Joy Division documentary at IFC. I forwarded it to several people and no one replied. Did they not share in the humor? During the Q & A after the projection with John Vanco (IFC) and Tom Atentcio (producer) someone asked what Ian Curtis might have thought of the event of the film screening. I took the mic and mentioned this as a sign that Ian was with us, and had a sense of humor. Silence. Perhaps they could not understand my voice?.

Finally, an email awaited me at home from Hooky in Hong Kong. He truly appreciated it! In the film when Hooky describes returning to have his dinner after receiving the phone call about Ian's death recalled George Bush when he received the news about the Twin Towers. I guess George was still just a young lad...

These turtles at IFC were special. First of all, John Vanco and everyone there were wonderful to work with. Both screenings were preceded by a screening of JUNKOPIA, a short by Christ Marker made in 1981 while he was shooting SANS SOLEIL, the film that introduced me to Marker's work, and to Chris himself. Chris had suggested the film when I asked him for something that Christina Courtin could sing to. It was an idea I had since her voice means so much that I call it "the voice of turtle". Chris had said it could be with his soundtrack or without. On my first viewing it was uncanny that the ending of his film has a mix of radio similar to my first film TRIBECA made in 1980. Christina would be out of town until the first performance so we would do it on the fly. It was in the medium size cinema of 110 seats, Christina sat by the film and Ryan put her voice through several effects boxed and in to a self amplified speaker. Her voice played with the soundtrack in a way that the audience, unfamiliar with the film, probably could not distinguish between the soundtrack and Christina. It was beautiful.

Before Joy Division, which was the large theater with over 200 sears, Christina sang her song RAIN with an unaffected voice and Ryan playing guitar. I cried. Christina is more than a voice, more than an artist “she is the true turtle spirit, a poet sharing in a selfless way.

The first screening was of Ellen Kuras' NERAKHOOM (THE BETRAYAL). I had to rest during and met Ellen's subject/co-director and editor Thavi outside just before the film ended. We were waiting for Ellen to arrive from the set of a film she is shooting two hours away in Connecticut. She made it with 5 minutes to spare. Ellen and Thavi took the stage with John Vanco for a wonderful Q & A. It is a most powerful film that will have its official New York premiere in next months Human Rights Festival. When you see the film you will discover that the turtle means a lot to Laotians. There is a scene when a family releases a turtle back in to the sea.

Meet Myrtle the turtle:

www.gowanuslounge.com/2008/05/05/williamsburg-animal-cruelty-did-workers-paint-backyard-turtle

www.gowanuslounge.com/2008/05/13/myrtle-the-turtle-update-being-treated-doing-better I say that turtles are pink, that's what they think! But turtles should not be painted pink!

This is Tuesday 13 May. Yesterday I had the news that Inger Christensen will be in Paris late October and will read for turtle! Now I must begin to organize my return and what I can for Inger and other turtle events.

Robert Rauschenberg died last night. I believe he leaves a turtle still living in his New York City house. The turtle came from a performance he did years ago with turtles carrying flashlights illuminating a performance. So many people have benefited from his art and his care: he set up CHANCE to help artists in emergency. His light will shine forever.

I wish that I could write more. I am both busy and tired, frustrated that I can't do more, or as before. Busy is most limited. MHS

This just in from Iran!!!

...en route to NY for the next turtle.

Time for a weekend wrap up! Friday I picked up John Gianvito, took him for coffee at Woodberry Kitchen where he said that he would like to play ps Beirut before his film. I agreed, if he is allowed. I drive to my sister's to burn a dvd, drop him off at the Maryland Film Festival's Charles Theater, go to my eye exam, eat, see the dentist and return to the festival. Jed Deitz, the director of the festival, walks me in to the screening and the rooster of my film is dancing large on the screen!

Saturday I was wiped. Went to the Charles to greet Ellen Kuras with my sister, Carol, met Thavi and his family, saw the beginning of their Q & A after her film, and met Francisco Bello on the street. Francisco had been a student of mine at Cooper Union and was there with his film SALIM BABA. It had been nominated for an Academy Award.

Sunday I met Ellen at Bonaparte for coffee. I recognized Mel from Woodberry Kitchen and introduced myself. Thavi came with his wife Mouki and their child, then Francisco. We walked the harbor and Ellen spoke of her family having lived in this Fells Point area when she was a child.

After a rest I went to see Dusan Makavejev's WR: MYSTERIES OF AN ORGANISM, a film I have read about for years and never had the chance to see. An image from this film was the cover of Amos Vogel's book FILM AS A SUBVERSIVE ART, my Wonderland. During the film I made notes for a Roland Park video that would explore the magic paths within Olmsteads plans. The film had the spirit of Nicholas Ray's WE CAN'T GO HOME AGAIN in that it was so of its time, a kind of inspiring mess. That evening I watched the dvd Chris sent me of Vertov's MAN WITH A MOVIE CAMERA with Music for Eighteen Musicians of Steve Reich. It was magic, I made more notes.

Monday thought of Mel in terms of Roland Park and a video for The Notwist. Boneless could be the track! Then I checked the tape I shot of Teresa in Paris and it will fit the track Gone Gone Gone! Enthused I made a packet for Mel. Carol took me to Woodberry to drop it off and we ended up eating dinner at the bar.

In from Paris, MAY DAY

Turtle at The Tank on Sunday began with Isild Le Besco introducing her brother Jowan's film YAPO to just a few people. The spirit was set, and turtle grew from there. We ended the shorts program with TUNNEL by Robert Frank. Laura Israel, the film's editor, told how the film was made for an art event in Switzerland in 2005 that was cancelled and that the film has never been shown. The footage was shot many years ago in Mabou, Nova Scotia. The second part of the film was a "day in the life" and ran like a silent film comedy accompanied by a sprightly piano. A group of men and a gun struggling to round up a cow. The animal is finally downed, then cut up for meat and hung, the final images as color photographs posted on a signboard.

It reminded me of George Franju's BLOOD OF THE BEASTS (Le Sang des Bêtes, 1949) a film that makes poetry out of observing the slaughtering of horses in a Paris abattoir. Ellen Kuras arrived with a tape of her film to begin Christina Courtin's set. Ellen introduced the segment of a turtle's release back to the sea in the context of her film NERAKHOON (which plays as a turtle at IFC Center next Wednesday). Pierre Clémenti's REVOLUTION... followed behind "the voice of turtle". What a voice! The bare feet in the film reminded me that this was the first time I have seen Christina perform with shoes on! The set and the film were magic. The audience had filled by then including Jeffrey Lewis and his band.

Marie Losier's portrait of Tony Conrad followed and the day kept on building energy!

Jem Cohen had his two 16mm projectors set up in the audience and Jeffrey Lewis was off to the side. The improvisation was sublime - the footage danced with beauty, and political commitment was made poetry.

Then Jeffrey did a Crass cover and his HISTORY OF COMMUNIST CHINA Part 3, with his illustrated book (check his histories out on Utube). The end was the beginning. Alas, we did not get to play the work of Philip Wiegard, nor the JAYE LADY JAYE of Marie Losier, and the list goes on to most of the music videos. While they were playing downstairs by request the focus remained upstairs.

Turtle is blessed by the generosity of spirit of all who contributed. I received THE NOTWIST film on Monday! No matter. There will be more turtles! Thanks to all that were present, those who were not but their work was presented, and to those whose work was not shown and will become part of future turtle! For a treat, and to see what was meant to end the day at The Tank (but we ran out of time...and memory) go to www.philipwigard.com I sum up the day we billed as "April 68, the roar before..." as poetry, not propaganda. As art should be. MHS

p.s. As Ellen Kuras was leaving turtle she thanked Randy Bell and myself for reminding her why she got in to filmmaking.

TURTLE IN THE TANK was magic. Am too tired (good tired!) to share now so I will share the hand out I wrote for the audience today. MHS

TURTLE IN THE TANK April 27, 2008

This turtle marks my return to New York City, and to my home near the Empire State Building.

Turtle in NYC began last year with the support of Peter Scarlet and Kellen Quinn of the Tribeca Film Festival. The idea for today's turtle grew out of a conversation with Stuart Comer of Tate Modern, and we are here at THE TANK thanks to the suggestion of Esther Robinson, and the friendship between Jem Cohen and Randy Bell.

The day begins with family. I worked with Catherine Belkhodja, mother of Isild and Jowan Le Besco, when producing for Chris Marker in the 1980's. The first turtle in Paris (2007) was a one day exhibition of Isild's drawings during the avant premiere of her film CHARLY (showing now in the Tribeca Film Festival and shot by Jowan).

The shorts will include THE TUNNEL by Robert Frank, made for a cancelled event in Switzerland; a selection from Melody Owen (World) and Philip Wiegard (Berlin), artists I met in Paris last year; Chris Marker's JUNKOPIA from 1981, a sneak preview of Ildik Enyedi's FIRST LOVE among other works, including the first chapter of my PS BEIRUT.

I met Christina Courtin when she performed a work by Michael Ward-Bergman at Carnegie Hall last year. Michael performed at the first turtle in London and I thank Osvaldo Golijov for introducing Michael to turtle. Christina is "the voice of turtle" and will also be singing before the upcoming screenings at the IFC cinema on May 7 and 8.

Marie Losier has long been a special friend who visited me in Paris last year. Marie is so true to herself that her films are true portraits of the work and ones she loves, who happen to be true artists of our time.

Ben Ayres of Rough Trade records (UK) introduced me to Jeffrey Lewis in one of his packages of music to help fuel my spirits. Jeffrey's manager, Brian Schwarz, got Jeffrey to turtle, and Brian introduced me to another act he manages, Dan le Sac vs Scroobius Pip, and to Yogzatot Studios who made the bootleg we are showing.

The music works will include something new from THE NOTWIST (Munich), Gruff Rhys, The Decembrists, 1990's, Long Blondes, Hidden Cameras, Winter Family, Cornershop, Matt Wolf's film of Verity Sussman performing an Arthur Russell song, a special work by Markus Wambsganns (Berlin) and a sneak peak at the upcoming A SKIN, A NIGHT, a film on THE NATIONAL by Vincent Moon.

John Gianvito (PROFIT MOTIVE AND THE WHISPERING WIND, also in Tribeca) suggested the work of Pierre Clémenti, and Michelle Carey introduced the idea of turtle to Pierre's son, Balthazar. Balthazar Clémenti has graciously allowed us to use REVOLUTION X reflecting the time of 1968 in europe. This film will be projected both during Christine's and Jeffrey's performances giving two soundtracks to the silent work (reminds me of a Chris Marker film...).

Turtle and The Tank thank all of the participants and thank you for sharing. An introduction to turtle can be found at turtlesalon.com, Chelsea Space, where you can read the review of the first turtle by Elisabeth Karoly Turtle began at the invitation of Donald Smith of Chelsea Space, so blame him! MHS

p.s. In Baltimore last week I came across an album by John Fahey called THE VOICE OF THE TURTLE, made in 1968!

Jimmy the tortoise of Ben Ayres' son.

At one time, not long ago, this would have been the second night of turtle screenings at IFC cinema. Then it was rescheduled for the 7th and 8th of May.

It could still happen then, or it might be in July. No matter. John Vanco at IFC is behind turtle and it will happen when it can.

So Sunday's TURTLE IN THE TANK will be the first here in NY and it is looking to be quite special. You can see the schedule here under NY or soon on thetanknyc.org More than printed there is the work that has come in from Rough Trade in London, from Berlin and Budapest.

Meanwhile I read poems in translation and about their translation, and a book on Emily Dickinson. Indeed the Americans Dickinson and Gertrude Stein are often overlooked in their radical work with language before the modernists.

I happened to be listening to works by Virgil Thompson and a turtle popped out! The Courtship of Yongly Bongly Bo is about a turtle! Sorry to be so brief but I just wanted to say hello and to stay tuned for Sunday news.

MHS

A turtle moment in Baltimore.

Went to 36th street to Breathe Books where Marietta told me of a children's book about a turtle. Then I went down the street to The True Vine, the record shop of Amanda's boyfriend Ian (Amanda and Marietta serve me coffee at the Woodberry Kitchen during the week).

I was happy to find many obscure yet familiar names among the used CDs. Then, in the vinyl section (what this store is about), there was a John Fahey album watching me: THE VOICE OF THE TURTLE. I carried it to Ian and said that I had seen Fahey at CBGB's several years ago when Thurston Moore presented him. Ian was there! He used to work for LaMonte Young. This is the web of turtle!

As I approached my car I was drawn in to the used bookshop in front, and to a book GRAVE MATTERS. I am drawn to graveyards, and consider turtle full of graves, which it celebrates. This is more than a photographic book: the author, Mark C. Taylor, has a serious personal story. I brought it home and read as Taylor begins looking at his parent's bible as a child. The first mention is "the Cedars of Lebanon".

I think of the trees I have been climbing through the book "The Wild Trees" and the Lebanese cedar found at my physical therapist's family house in Norfolk, the house which turned out to be the beginning of Sebald's THE EMMIGRANTS. In an interview with Sebald he speaks of how we use such coincidences "to pursue making sense of our nonsensical existence... for which there isn't, as we all know"! The hacienda must be built...

The week in New York was a full one. Isabel was in town with the Goutal crew and we had brunch with Makram who took me to Beirut in 2004. Frances Richardson stopped by and we walked to the gallery where she was installing a piece. She showed me her 'tear' samples for a project we are developing, and we spoke of the death of Angus Fairhurst, a cause for real tears.

Met Christina Courtin at The Tank to discuss performing for turtle there. Randy Bell showed us around and we confirmed for the 27th. Jeffrey Lewis also confirmed. Swam 52 laps the day after I had to quit at 22 laps because of cramps in my feet. Had a second session with voice coach Joan Lader, and visited the Norwood Club with Aimee Mullins to consider for turtle.

First, I met Aimee for dinner and she brought along her friend Marti, who worked with me on Beth B's SALVATION in 1986!

Met with Ellen Kuras who confirmed her participation in turtle. Tom Luddy will provide a copy of Chris Marker's JUNKOPIA to show, and all of the finalizing of turtle at IFC and The Tank is falling in to place. Monday the information should find its way on to everyone's sites, so stay tuned!

I leave you with this picture Marti sent, c.1986. Yes, I had hair, smoked, enjoyed both!

NYC.

I am saddened to read the news of Angus Fairhurst's death in the paper today. 41 years old, and he stopped his life there, in Scotland. This was in the New York Times on the train up this afternoon. I will have to read the British Press for further news, when I am able.

I remember first meeting Angus when Alan Parkes of Warner Records in London had me look in to engaging young Brit artists to make videos for Orbital. Angus was almost shy, meaning willing to talk, even interested, but quiet. The Orbital scheme was never realized and I was not in touch with Angus for years until I was making turtle in London. I think I ran in to him somewhere and he was with an art critic with a lovely name (I must remember). He gave me his email, again with interest to turtle, and we exchanged a couple of mails. There is never a turtle deadline so I felt it would happen in due time. Well, if I could be so bold as to say that Angus is a turtle and will be celebrated with many other fine lost turtles in the turtle graveyard.

It is Friday 4 April now. Where did this story go?
www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=89277605

This just in from Paris:

I woke from dreams that I was preparing a film to be shot in New England and Robert Frank was producing. Robert was also to shoot a film. New Order was to play in Philadelphia and I spoke with Andy Robinson about filming them. Later I told Stephen Morris that Laura Wilde, a nurse who became my friend in London, was interested to work with them.

Saturday 5 April.

Morning bliss. Woke slowly, stripped my bed and made my way down to the laundry in the West Village. The sun is out and it is a mild day. Next stop was Porto Rico coffee to pick up beans for Cindy Nichols, my speech therapist in Baltimore, and a coffee to walk with. Went up MacDougal Street thinking of my youth here. Had a look in to Café Reggio, a dark and quiet place I would frequent, happy that it was still there. I must say in general I am happy to find decay still exists among the suburbification of this city which has become scarily too safe. Yes, there was still a bit of decay to Café Reggio but it seemed a bit careful. Further up I passed a Laundromat that used to be Shakespeare's, a bar and restaurant Tim Knipe (with whom I stayed on Minetta Lane) and I almost lived. At the bar with bourbon, or at tables consuming a "bard burger". That place is long gone.

As I turned on to 8th street the sun was pouring in delightfully. I proceeded to 6th avenue to pick up a few things to make lunch, picked up a newspaper and said hello to my friend at the magazine shop on the corner of 11th, and hopped on a bus home.

Then I popped in the cassette from voice training yesterday - yes! Joan Lader phoned with a cancellation so I finally met and worked with her. Joan is part of my lucky journey back to health. Dawn Upshaw put me in touch and we will continue as it can with Joan's schedule. So I did a session at home and have a lot of homework! Yesterday began with a visit by Isabel Doyen, here with Camille Goutal on perfume business. Then I went to meet Ellen Kuras to discuss showing her Narakhoon as part of turtle and she said yes! I met Joan for the voice, had lunch and a rest, and got in a swim at the Y. Bliss. Had another rest before going to see "Guitar", the film Amos Poe wrote and produced and Amy Redford directed. Saw Debbie Harry there and said hello. I asked if she read poetry, and she said she only has lyrics! There's poetry in that answer!!

This is important news from Aimee Mullins who is supporting Oscar Pistorius, a double amputee runner, to compete in the upcoming Olympics. (http://www.americanchronicle.com/articles/57241).

I tried running at the clinic and tore some muscles in my calf! But I swim regularly and soon must train for my walk with Aimee and others. Meanwhile, things are beginning to fall in to place for the upcoming turtles in New York. I go up there tomorrow and will meet many people who happen to be there from Paris, Beirut and London. Frances Richardson is here to be in a show at the HP Garcia Gallery (www.hpgarcia.com) which will open next week. We are working on a little Turtle item. If it works, it could be available during turtle later this month.

Another news item today concerns a group of kids, ages 8-10, who plotted together to knife a teacher in a school in Georgia (USA). Makes me think of J.G. Ballard's short novel, "Running Wild". A gem, and like a lot of Ballard, prophetic.

I will miss the friendly faces and good spirits of Marietta and Amanda at the Woodberry Kitchen (http://www.woodberrykitchen.com/), my new place for morning coffee.

I just swam 40 laps today (25 yards, with pauses after each lap). Have been slowly increasing about 2 laps per swim. In New York I will continue in the beautiful YMCA on West 14th street.

Will catch up with Makram on Sunday at brunch. Hopefully some turtle matters will be settled by then and we can begin to let the public know. Am finishing Junot Diaz's first short story collection "Drown" and sorry it is coming to an end. He so deserved the National Books Critics Award for his novel "The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao", a wild wonderful rhythm of fierce nature like the first time I read Céline. It feels so true that the colloquial language and slang of his native Dominican Republic, though unfamiliar, is no less electric and telling. I will send this off so there is something there! From Oscar to Oscar, MHS

It's Easter, the day which always brings me to think of David Herbert Lawrence and "The Man Who Died". And Ian Hart whom I saw drunkenly wandering the Manhattan streets and recognized in him Lawrence, the character for him to carry in a filmed portrait. Which leads to the upcoming Tribeca Film Festival, which was when I met Ian when I approached him in the street and a friendship began, albeit a distant one now.

But I have not been writing because I have been mostly well, and busy. When well, I use that time to work, sometimes too much (it always feels so little) and then there are days where I just can't work. Writing here takes a lot of energy but I must at least say hi and let you know that I'm ok. Thank you for writing, Martina, saying you missed my traces and expressing your concern. When I have not heard from friends I often worry though I know they are just busy. Yikes! I just checked my last posting was 29 February.

Looking back at my few notes I can say that I dreamed of Arthur Russell, saw Wu Mann in concert, singing coach Joan Lader wrote that she will meet me in NY (when she has a cancellation - thank you Dawn Upshaw), have been to NY a couple of times, swimming often (in Baltimore and NY), began Proust (first volume bliss, stumbled with translation of second), met Gaelle in NY, visited Lawrence and Alice Weiner in their new house and Kirten and Henry came by, visited David Bither at Nonesuch, a quick tea with Ellen Kuras and got a dvd of her wonderful film NARAKHOON (which will play turtle in NY) had juice outdoors with Elisabeth Karolyi on east Houston Street before going to a sound check at Dan le sac Vs Scroobius Pip www.myspace.com/lesacvspip and met their manager Brain Schwarz with whom I have been coordinating the upcoming turtle with another of his acts, Jeffrey Lewis (whom I've written about), have met with the Charles Cinema here in Baltimore and will start a turtle series here following the upcoming film festival (which I am busy feeding films to), then had a most wonderful day trip to NY last Wednesday to meet Randy Bell at The Tank to confirm we will do some turtle events next month, a quick hello to Aimee Mullins and her editor Eric Treiber (and discovered her short they are working on is for Peter Saville's web site with Nick Knight!), then to meet John Vanco at IFC cinemas and he has agreed to turtle too!!!

So that's me in a nutshell since I last wrote. Stay tuned for announced events here at turtle, and the individual sites including the Tribeca Film Festival site as I must now rest! But know that I am better, tasting life again. I did not even mention ps beirut and Alison Carter working on it in London, did I?

Before I go I want to say I am happy to be presenting Grant Gee's Joy Division documentary that Tom Atencio produced. Tom knows more than which song is LOVE WILL TEAR US APART. Good job, Tom. I am sure I am skipping over things but my mind is in the trees reading the most wonderful THE WILD TREES by Richard Preston about the ecosystem in the canopies above us, especially in the Northern California Redwoods. Blissfully yours, MHS

Swam today. Because speech therapy was yesterday instead of today I swam, but I also swam yesterday and plan to swim tomorrow. I swim at times like today so as not to sit here like a zombie and feel sorry for myself. Yes, I am back in that place again. This time I am holding on to the taste of life I had last week. In my pause after every lap in the pool I count my blessings - to have the love of family and friends, to have the luxury of swimming and focus on my health, to have speech therapy and a voice person in New York who will see me when her schedule allows. That is news and it means so much to me. When my recovery is a journey like producing a film it is stimulating in its challenge.

I have New York ahead. That is always a challenge and recently has helped to energize me.

Went to a concert of Wu Man last night. She plays the pipa, a four stringed Chinese instrument, pear shaped and held vertically on her lap, she made a racket of sound! I mean that in the best way. Wu Man began with classical pieces and continued with contemporary compositions, a couple of her own, and completed the performance with a percussionist.

This is a Baltimore gem - I always discover them - the 48th in an annual series of concerts with talks that have included Nadia Boulanger, Virgil Thompson, Philip Glass (graduate of the local Peabody Institute), Yo-Yo Ma (with whom Wu Man has played) reflecting an adventurous range of musicians, performers and composers including Glass, Terry Riley and Tan Dun.

Just came across this trace never posted.

I am touched to read about Beach Lacrosse, something that dear old friend Tim Gilbert helped put together. I got back in touch with Tim about 8 years ago when here to help care for my mother as she was dying. Last weekend Tim stopped by with his wife Dee and this weekend I will go to a Johns Hopkins lacrosse game with him. I share Tim's writing about beach as it shares so much with turtle: beachlacrosse.typepad.com/commissioners_corn Turtle lacrosse could be in the making!

Film critic Ann Hornaday heard this story of our turtles on the radio recently: www.theworld.org/?q=green_sea_turtles

Did I ever share Stefi's link? www.youtube.com/watch?v=gg7WG6tCbrw

How can I describe the feeling of life that has for so long eluded me? I could compare it to grass finding its way through concrete, or a tree which is swallowing a girdle of iron, such impositions which will always be present and limiting, as is my scar, yet not silencing my joy to dream again, to imagine a home - even more than one in succession - something I thought lost forever.

Damn, the YMCA is closed due to problems with heat and plumbing. No swimming today.

Tonight I ordered my first salad at dinner and ate most of it, without problem. Slow and almost easy.

Amos Opus ... a stationary road movie ... Proust in real time ... punk sex taste smell feel ... Michael Snow's Wavelength ...

Some thoughts after watching Amos Poe's EMPIRE II, a stimulating film. The most real film I have seen in some time. Three years out his NY window in three hours of bliss. It will show at Tribeca Film Festival after playing in Venice and a few other venues. Coincides with my falling back in love with New York. It amplifies my feelings. Hearing Patti Smith I knew I was in good hands. The entire soundtrack could be on my ipod.

Sorry, been out of touch. But more in touch with my self, another way of saying I am more alive! Seeing Amos' film after seeing Amos again for the first time in years. And briefly his view, a preview. I must thank Peter Scarlet of Tribeca for this, and more. Turtle will be active during the film festival in April. Things are cooking (not turtles!). Hoping to realize a Chris Marker idea that reaches back to my early days in NY, and further, in celebration of the late Karin Berg. And Arthur Russell, James Lyons, Jeffrey Lewis and more - stay tuned.

I am wandering the small paths of Roland Park, designed my Olmstead, magic between back lawns and garages, uneven footpaths, measuring my childhood there. Discovering music, reuniting with old friends, lacrosse. Making the most of being in Baltimore, so lucky to have family and health services. Tribeca and Maryland film festivals keeping me busy with possible dreams. And I have most special plans of my own for the Empire State Building. I'll keep them close until it is time.

I just opened mail forwarded from Cité des Arts in Paris from Emmanuelle Riva. She sent me a pass for the Resnais series at Pompidou running now. I do miss Paris and my friends there, but hope to be back to turtle later this year! Emmanuelle will read poetry and sing!

Last night I woke often and dove back in to my dreams. They were about John Loder in some way. He was not there but was being talked about, felt, and it made me happy.

John is sadly the third death in my double trilogy of people and turtles. John Loder is Southern Studios, the UK record label built with the band Crass. Crass is an important part of my music history and experience. I was lucky to know John and I remember him driving me around in his car. Like Crass, John was the real thing. He believed in the right thing and lived his beliefs. He is an inspiration.

It is Jeffrey Lewis who lead me back to John. Jeffrey's covers of Crass songs that Ben Ayres of Rought Trade sent me in the clinic. Wonderful stuff. It is also Stuart Comer who lead me back as he got me thinking of film and music for the anniversary of May 68 coming up. Something began to brew.

Yesterday, to check on the ingredients, I went to Southern Studios web site (www.southern.net/southern) and discovered that John had died in 2005. But is got deeper. John died in the same hospital I was in AT THE SAME TIME and admitted for the same reason: inflammation in the brain. His turned out to be a tumor that worked fast. Probably for the better. I also learned he had a daughter, Natasha. You can read her thoughts through that site.

Karin, James and John - I miss you all. Is it possible that you met at some time? I hope so. You were of a kind and would have shared so much.

I do hope to meet Jeffrey soon and discuss an event with their spirit in mind. I am blessed to have known them.

MHS

p.s. I saw a picture of Sonic Youth playing in a Marc Jacobs fashion show. Am happy Mr. Young is in Berlin.

On the news I heard that Neil Young, at the Berlin Film Festival, said that "I think that the time when music could change the world is past...". When he began to make music it did change the world, its potential seemed endless. He still makes real music but the world is not the same, the urgency for righting wrong is consumed in consumer society. We watch it we wear it. The music is there and endless, we just need to get back in touch. And do something.

Went to the Baltimore symphony last night for Steven Mackey's "Time Release". It was wonderful, written for and performed by Colin Currie, a percussionist from London. The piece is based around the marimba!

Also on the program was Richard Strauss' "til Eulenspiegel's Merry Pranks", op. 28. It was an unexpectedly funny piece - had me laughing out loud (alone), Debussy's "Prelude a l'apres-midi d'un faune" and Stravinky's "Firebird Suite".

This morning went to the Baltimore Museum to see the small Ellsworth Kelly which was sublime. 4 paintings from over 40 years. The happy surprise was his small "brush strokes cut in to 27 squares and arranged by chance" from 1951. I believe it is from his years in France and is certainly with the influence of his friend John Cage.

Then I took a brief wander and came across a Scheeler from 1949 called "Manchester". I wonder if Morton Livingston Schamberg was ever there? It was good to see again a recreation of a small part of the Cone sister's home among their collection.

Baltimore has some gems, including dear friends I have yet to look up.

MHS

First let me say happy new year!!

I find it hard to begin since I cannot write as things happen - I am too tired and have to rest. I guess I'll speak of NY. I went up on Sunday night and watched the Giants win in the Superbowl on my TV without cable. It was wonderful to be there.

This is looking south from 42nd street and 6th avenue. I am so lucky to live just below 40th on 6th with the beautiful Empire State Building watching over me.

On Monday morning Ned came down from Boston to visit (lightblack.org) and we first went to the Whitney to see Lawrence Weiner's show. Kirsten Weiner arranged this as the museum is closed on Mondays but could not join us as she was sick. Let me share my raw thoughts as I wrote them in my journal:

Ned and I were led in to Lawrence's show by Hilary, the assistant curator. Wow. It was a master's museum cum studio cum club. I wanted to party! Sublime ecstasy. Poetry. You can read a book by its cover even when the cover's on the inside. Dynamite. Like diving in to a pool on acid. Silent explosion. Wonderland. Down Lawrence's hole (I always wanted to wear white).

Back home Melody ran in to grab her bags and say goodbye on her way to Portland. We went to the Korean restaurant we like on 35th street for an early dinner and Martina Radwan stopped by to say hello. Geoff Travis put me in touch with Jeffrey Lewis's manager as I continue to brainstorm with Stuart Comer in London re May 68 film and music.

Tuesday morning we met Jason Simon of Orchard 47 (www.orchard47.org) finally. We have been in touch for over a year and he passed us posters of his show with Chris Marker. A wonderful display of Petite Planete covers from the books Chris made/edited in Paris in the 50's. A friend, Guillaume, gave me a couple of originals last year!

Jason dropped us off in Soho and walking across Prince Street I found this large turtle sculpture

We had a wonderful lunch at Hampton Chutney (sorry Miranda - thought of you the whole time!!!).

Back uptown after another rest we went to the main public library around the corner from the loft to see the Jack Kerouac exhibition around the original typed scroll to ON THE ROAD. Sublime. That library is so beautiful and the exhibition a big memory or roots. And I stumbled upon this turtle by Jack

TURTLE APPROACHING CHRYSANTHIUMS AS THEY SPEED BY.

Turtle 3 came the following morning.

Wednesday 6 February. I stayed to meet Terry Savage for a coffee. It was hard but I stayed in after Ned left Tuesday evening to be able to do this and I was happy I did. We had a good talk about dear James Lyons, his late partner. I was happy to learn that there is a film being made of his memorial which I will see in 2 weeks, and most happy to learn that Jim had a pet turtle named Jean Michel (Foucault)! Terrry showed me a picture on his phone of this rescue from Chinatown several years ago.

Jean Michel says hello and is happy to be a turtle!

Waking to the rain, and to news from Oona that she soon begins to edit our shoot of Young Marble Giants in Paris last year.

Went to have coffee out and read about SILENT LIGHT. Back on to emails to Tribeca, Maryland and Maine festivals. Tired midday but went to meet Carol for lunch during her break from jury duty. Back to a good rest then more work. By the time I went to pick up Carol I was so tired - working is a drug and it is taking a lot out of me. I can't stop but I can't go on. Lay down and listened to a BBC radio 3 program on Ella Fitzgerald. Felt chills and thought how my parents were once young. I lay on the floor of our house here as a child, the new rug, its pattern. I felt so lucky, so safe. Up for dinner and trying to watch TV to not work. Also tiring. Hope a sleep will help me recover. I must find a way to pace myself. Must get to NY on Sunday.

After sleep I feel a person again. Went to the gym in the morning and swam in the afternoon. Fatigue came on after 4. But tears came before.

Today I learned that Karin Berg died in 2006. I had tried to write her last year and again recently and finally wrote to David Bither at Nonesuch Records who gave me the news. Here is what he wrote: journal.nonesuch.com/journal/2006/12/karin_berg_1936 After the tears I felt such joy to have know Karin. Tony Wilson introduced me to Karin in the early 1980's. She was the first person I ever met in the music industry (I did not consider Factory the industry) and she has remained the most special. I often went to Karin to share, or for advice. She cared so much about people, especially music and the people who made it and helped it to happen.

I have to stop to shower and sleep now.

I did, and now it is Wednesday 29 January

Another day, another death. Beckett is involved, again. Just received a note from James Lyons partner, Terry Savage of cookshopny.com, responding to my recent mail that Jim died last year. Here is an introduction to a special person, a film editor who was a poet in the construction of a film.

www.indiewire.com/people/2007/04/remembering_jim

Ann Ruark introduced me to Jim years ago and I always wanted to work with him. I can't remember the last film idea I discussed with Jim but it was over lunch at the Franklin St. Café in NYC. I felt a calm enthusiasm in his presence, like anything is possible, and more.

I must note that Jim edited one of my favorite films: Todd Haynes' SAFE, an American classic with an Antonioni frame.

I mentioned Beckett as John Cameron Mitchell mentions in his testimonial (read indiewire above) that Jim seemed like a Beckett character. That is how I felt when beginning to sit up in a chair alone in a room with double vision and loud noise. Imagining myself as a work of Beckett gave me hope and humor. ILL SEEN ILL SAID was the first book I read when my vision corrected. The noise made the words dance.

This sad news comes as I return home from seeing THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY. Hercules has been raving about it, and for good reason. It really was a souvenir for me having visited a bit of the diving bell place. I feel so lucky to be where I am now. That also thanks to dear Herc.

There was the analogy made by the man captive in Beirut that really hit home. I have spoken here of reading Brian Keenan's AN EVIL CRADLING and marking the book madly, surprised at how much I shared with his experience of capture in Beirut.

While I have called days of poetry THE TURTLE AND THE BUTTERFLY I never had this book/film in mind, but it has a true relation. Congratulations, Julian, and thanks for sharing your poetry.

Melody on her way over to fix p.s. Beirut edit. Will meet up with Philip Wiegard and Oliver Wilson before heading back to Baltimore.

Made it to dinner at Peter Scarlet's. Nazzy cooked another special Persian meal. I was quite tired by that time. Just before leaving I got to see Isabella Rossellini's GREEN PORNO shorts that premiered at Sundance - so wonderful and hysterically funny! And I met a special Aimee Mullins.

Note: have to track down a copy of Claire Pijman's portrait of Flip Scipio for Peter to consider for Tribeca.

On the subway home last night I picked up an old copy of the New York Observer and found a review of the work of Christopher Wilmarth, an artist I have always admired. The review pointed out that his work has been overlooked. I am sorry to have missed the show and more sorry to learn that he died in 1987 at age 44.

I am trying to get started writing while overwhelmed with being in New York. First night Saturday I was excited to be saying hello to my friends: the books, the music and the films that surround me here. I look up and remember that I must put together a package of vinyl for Philip.

On train to Baltimore. NY was too much for me. I did what I went up for, to see Peter and fix the edit with Melody, but it was too much. On Saturday I wanted to go downtown in the evening but stayed in not to overdue. Spoke a long time with Peter Sunday morning then stayed at home and rested twice before going back for dinner. That was a treat, but I woke this morning at 6.30 and it was too loud to get back to sleep. Then Melody arrived and she had problems with her plans back to Portland then we had technical problems with the edit. After a quick bite for energy it all fell in to place and Philip and Steev arrived for a visit. Philip took some vinyl and then Mel helped me to Penn station.

Pulling out of Wilmington the pink sunset is such a joy and connects me to life wherever I am, but sunrises are my magic hour.

I hope I can find a rhythm back to life without crashes. This is hard. MHS

First train to NY. Arrived with energy. Philip came to meet me with Steev but there is no way to find someone at Penn station without a plan. They came by for coffee then cleaned the loft! I went downtown for food by subway and back by bus. It felt good.

My life feels boring. I went to Tessy for rolfing this morning. Good session. Did not make it to NY.

Still waiting to hear from Melody about meeting in NY. If I go it will be tomorrow afternoon and surprise Lawrence when he presents some films at Anthology. Or I may go Saturday morning. It is 6 pm and I am tired. Music keeps me awake to write.

Close to home. To bed at 10.30 and awake at 7. Today I find news that Inger Christensen is interested to come to Paris for turtle!

Baltimore. I landed on Sunday after a beautiful flight. Then Dulles airport. Lost my bag then found it, but had to wait an hour for it to arrive. Felt alive and that lasted until yesterday afternoon. So I am slowly moving in to the time zone while getting my 8 hours, with breaks. I am hoping it will pay off.

Arrived to a package from Kirsty Gunn with her beautifully made "44" hardcover work and a copy of THE GIFT by Lewis Hyde. I had never heard of it but am just diving in, while still savoring Rachel Corrie's writings.

My sister and her family are well and it feels like home. But time is still looking for me.

Rothko slit his wrists. Today. I mean tonight. It was said in a drama on BBC TV. It stands out as I was just swimming, thinking that Mark Rothko is the patron saint of Humaine Clinic. His work is everywhere. It soothes or maybe absorbs the pain. The paintings are so beautiful they hurt, but these are only reproductions (of course) so their beauty is more decorative, but "still" beauty.
For me it fits with listening to Elliot Smith.

FROM LETICIA OBEID IN BUENOS AIRES

I was born in 4'33". Silence. M.
Reading Rachel Corrie's journal, listening to Elliot Smith. Both reaching, both gone. I am with them getting lost. Exposed. New born turtles. A periodic table. A bricolage. No control, or not enough. There are moments of a world through Rachel's tears, cedar trees bending strings on a cello, the ocean on a cloudy day.

Wednesday 9 January To Zurich sleep doctor meet. Another juggle. One more week of try and see. Return to find package from Rough Trade. A Crass cd? No, Jeffrey Lewis! Gina Birch is learning his song DON'T LET THE RECORD COMPANIES TAKE YOU OUT TO LUNCH. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LD8n6cjLBKs Watch it. And his history of Rough Trade. His history of punk. IT IS CRASS! Jeffrey covers Crass. Kind of. Really does, especially. And the package iswonderfulmadfunrealstuff. I think of John Loder, the real thing, like Crass, and his Southern Records. Miranda on a Farfisa with Arsenal opening for Crass in Soho in the basement of John Gibson's building, Grand Street. New York. Rachel and Elliot and Crass, oh my! And Miracle Rose. Thank you, Ben! Needed tonic. Clashing new memories.

TURTLES & SHEEP. Now Friday following a turtle evening last night. Presented Ben Hopkins film 37 USES FOR A DEAD SHEEP to a small but deadly appreciative audience. Thanked me afterwards praising the film, and that continued today. Am happy for Ben, for turtle, for me most for them. There is a reason for turtle, a reason for kindness, and the need to live differently! To accept and not give up. Dear Tony and your situationist glee. Say hi to Rachel, to Elliot, and Sam. To Rob and Martin. And Ian. That should keep you busy. I'm dizzy thinking. Finished crying for today. The real thing's still going at http://www.researchpubs.com V.Vale you never stop and keep driving true. Penny Rimbaud and Crass! Still. More! Sign on and keep on the beat. Good night. MHS

When I went to the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Art in Philadelphia I discovered a distant relative had gone there. Morton Livingston Schamberg died young in a flu epidemic. He shared a studio with Charles Sheeler, painted and took photographs, but is best known for a piece of DADA. GOD is now attributed to MLS and Else von Freytag-Loringhoven, a colorful character and artist in the NY art scene.

God Morton Schamberg and Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven c1918

I feel strong ties between turtle and dada, yet another discovery for me. Turtle is like my child, a live organism that I can nurture but is a life of its own which, hopefully, will outlive me.

Kim Shelton's important project is shaping ( www.thewelcomehomeproject.org) and poetry is there. The Basso group will descend on New York from Berlin later this month. I look forward to playing with them there.

What have I done so far this year? I have seen more of where I am, like St. Gallen. Joseph Gomes, new friend and turtle who bakes a most wonderful coffee cake, told of Napoleon's camping in the cathedral there. It is the soot from his fires that remain on the ceiling paintings which give them an darkness against the cleaned baroque forms which surround them.

I went with Joseph up to the top of santis. Driving through the fog up in to the sun was exhilarating. We landed here:

Soon I will be there:

I can't write more now. Am sad not to be able to return to Zurich today to meet René: and visit the people at Cabaret Voltaire. Another day. MHS

OK, first the before and after tree - not the same tree. Hoping it represents me both ways: before and after illness, before and after clinic.

Tonight is the first time to feel I am ready to live in New York again! It has been a most special holiday hearing from so many friends. Today I learned that Jim Herbert is living and painting madly in New York! Shqipe from Macedonia wrote with greetings. We met briefly in the Cité, but brief meetings there can last a lifetime. Claire de Gastold is well, and Melody is dreaming! Philip and Steev sent a photo of themselves in suits! Oh what the holidays can do...

Yesterday I woke early.The sun had yet to rise and I woke to mail from my moon friend, Sara Fanelli.

The media is filled with "best of" for the year passed, lists that do not interest me. We had therapy in the morning and I went to a nearby town, St. Gallen, in the afternoon to visit the Kunstmuseum but it was closed on Monday. So I visited the "Dom", a catholic cathedral ornate in an almost hallucinogenic way. Sounds good, but it was more on the side of a bad trip. Looking from the back of the church the ceiling paintings are so dark and surrounded buy light carvings and objects that it seemed far from heaven. I took it in parts and found some beauty there. Then I wandered through the town, picked up some St. Gallen specialties: a kind of small fig Newton with almond paste centers. Not so special for me but was to share here at the clinic for New Years and appreciated. Best was the chocolate truffle that was offered me in the store. That put a smile on my face and gas in my tank! Had a nice stroll getting lost and eventually found the train station.

Tomorrow is also a holiday here so no therapy. In the morning a recent acquaintance and his family are picking me up and taking me up a mountain. Finally!

It is good to hear from so many turtles from the get go, like Ali Smith and Jan Morris, and Michael Ward-Bergman who performed in Baltimore last night in a French restaurant that used to be a drugstore I hung out in as a teenager eating fries with gravy at the counter and waiting in the parking lot on weekends for news of parties! Was sad to miss New Years at Vince and Dolores' wonderful home. Paul Borrell and family are well, especially turtle Bridie who is getting her driver's license! She is a true inspiration. GO BRIDIE!

To all you turtles and friends I wish you a year of good health and peace. And remember, you can live differently (Ali), and that kindness is all that matters (Jan). MHS

Some music and photos for you. Miranda Dali made this Christmas song some time ago and, though late, it is still worth a listen - its message is eternal.

Happy Christmas

These are of my walk on Christmas in the fog

And this from yesterday when the fog lifted but with cloud cover

A tree I like outside the clinic before the frozen cover

and after

Strange day of missed cues and confusions. Ended well at the post office. Evening now. Look forward to watching a British detective series Daziel and Pascoe for part two of a story with Joanna Ter Steege playing. Last saw Johanna in Paris this summer. Looks and plays beautifully!

Now I write to some art spaces in Zurich that could be interested in turtle. I will have a few chances to visit the city over the next couple of weeks. Too tired to continue. MHS

Day of smell! Isabelle and Ren descend on the clinic to share some scents and secrets of the perfume trade. Cederic, a 22-year old man who cannot smell will meet them. Can they produce something he cannot not smell? How will their smells affect the patients willing (and allowed) to experience?

Those of you who saw SOUVENIR will remember the SMELL MAPS program which Orlando receives and uses to trigger memories of her family.

From Paris, Christmas cancelled:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMyjywN-8Ac

From Athens, Kiwi here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sdUUx5FdySs

Well, it is Saturday now. First, Thursday was a breakthrough day for me. It is hard to put in to words but the feeling is good and clear.“ I am making progress here. I can tell you that it makes me happy and hopeful.

Isabelle and Ren came and spent a short time with Cederic. He could not smell unless he placed the tester (the long paper that perfume is sprayed on to sample) in to his mouth where it entered his nose through the throat. It is more like tasting, which he can do. Ren and he got along and will keep in touch. Margarethe Venedey, my occupational therapist, met with them as well as a couple more patients. Their visit was an introduction and perhaps a properly scheduled return will happen in January.

Isabelle brought some boxes of macarons from Ladure in Paris (a box of black ones for me!) so I could share these wonders with those who have helped me so here. The black ones are licorice inside very subtle within in the traditional almond pastry.

It is Sunday now. The days are coming quickly. I have therapies throughout the weekend until tomorrow, then two days "off". Off is my time to write and swim and walk; a time of reflection. I think back to my first Christmas in New York, 1975. I was editing an art video for Ron Clark. He took me for a Christmas meal at Feathers on lower Fifth Avenue. I remember thinking how happy I was to be working on Christmas. In 2004 I flew to Beirut on Christmas day, shooting video in and from the airplane. 2005 in London in recovery, visiting the hospital to greet nurses and patients. 2006 with my sister's family in Baltimore. Here I am quite alone. It feels good to be working on preparing to reenter the world.

I met Brigitte who is leaving today. I spoke of Sebald and she introduced THE FORGER by Cioma Schonhaus, a book I've never heard of but learned that Granta is publishing it. Schanhuas lives in Gemany and Brigettte tells me that his children play Klezmer music.

Here is Paul Eluard's song-like poem "L'amoureuse" in Samuel Beckett's translation from the French:

LADY LOVE

She is standing on my lids
And her hair is in my hair
She has the colour of my eye
She has the body of my hand
In my shade she is engulfed
As a stone against the sky
She will never close her eyes
And she does not let me sleep
And her dreams in the bright day
Make the suns evaporate
And me laugh cry and laugh
Speak when I have nothing to say.

Now it is Monday, Christmas eve. Yesterday was the 8th anniversary of my mother's death. I am silent. My sister has her family with her in Baltimore, but for me. My spirit is there. Here the fog keeps a cool glow. It is a slow wake listening to Elliot Smith. Keeps it slow, real slow. Unshaven unshowered slow. Many friends are writing - they keep me warm. A poem from Fanny Howe with a line "All films begin in chaos". Finishing MARS by Franz Zorn (Zorn means anger), what he calls a report on his condition of cancer he blames on his upbringing on Zurich's gold coast. Quite a tale most well told.

We enter into Christmas eve. There are few patients and staff here. Soon I will eat and read some more. The next two days will be quiet ones. I hope to complete an application for a residency in Berlin and begin Rachel Corrie's journals. Ah, but first I have a short story by Anne Enright that is in Saturday's Guardian. Also in the Guardian was an historic interview with Mae West with an introduction by Tildo Swinton!

sBack to Enright. Am so happy she won the Booker. Have not read the prize winner but am a fan since her first collection THE PORTABLE VIRGIN. I had a brief email correspondence with her about film, and learned that her husband, Martin Murphy, is an actor who played a lot of Beckett. I hope to get back in touch with her to turtle, perhaps through editor Tony Lawson (THE PERFECT KISS) who has been working with Neil Jordan. Murphy has played in a recent film or his.

Am I lonely? Not much more tonight than at other times. I like the quiet. It is an important time for reflection. To deeply consider where I can go from here. How my limitations will both restrict and open up my life. I somehow keep from feeling sorry for myself. Less people means less talk. With my mouth shut I can forget I am ill for short periods. Until I speak, the fatigue descends or when I try to work hard for a period of time.

Christmas Day 25 December.

Slept well and woke slowly. Dressed and took a walk up the hill to see the buildings and trees soft in the fog. The white on the ground is frost, like snow, and defines the bare branches of trees. It is an invigorating cold and only the sounds of water here and there from a stream, or a few crows, I presume. Black figures which are like shadows, like the fir trees and distant buildings. I took some photos and wandered in the fields.

I returned to the clinic to shake on the Zeptor to tone my muscles, then I walked and ran on the treadmill. Drank more coffee and wrote about my work for a residency application, then continued reading until lunchtime. But just before I turned on the television where I was and came upon CNN with Larry King Live, with Paul McCartnery, Ringo Starr, Yoko Ono and George Harrison's widow. That was heartwarming. Especially to see Yoko and Paul cheerful and friendly together. I cried when they ran old footage of the Beatles, and recalled being part of the public outside the Dakota apartment the night Lennon was killed. Then, Miranda and I turned away when we realized the people began singing Beatles' songs Paul wrote. He was hardly our favorite.

I've come to listen to McCartney's latest music after trying to resist it. But a friend persuaded me and I am happy she did. It does not sting as Lennon's work does, but there is a beautiful simplicity and honesty there, with little more than himself and a song. A few songs I like a lot. I could never have dreamed I would say this. Illness, and age, has dissolved some angry walls.

As I napped after lunch, Hercules called. He, too, was alone in London, but about to head out to a meal with mutual friends. Herc is a true and dear friend, and being here, just HERE, has a lot to do with him being there, in hospital, from the beginning. He continues to help in a myriad of ways, with great spirit.

I can't seem to write much these days. It is now Boxing Day, 26 December. The fog lifted so I went for a walk up the hill and into a row of trees. I found a wonderful view and felt alive having gone up hill. Like when I discovered the exhilaration after climbing Montmartre in Paris after which I began to swim.

On my mind now is the tiger in San Francisco. Hearing the news of its escape and attack and killing of a person I knew they would say they killed the tiger. Why? Why do they always kill a wild animal that has been kept captive and acting naturally? It's not the tiger's fault he or she is there. A person must of made a mistake, or something "man made" faulted. How can we be so cruel? I feel a part of the tiger's murder, don't you? Of course I am sorry for the victims (another one or two were injured) but isn't it obvious? The animal should have been shot with tranquilizers and either returned to lock up, or be set free in its natural habitat. It makes the look of a jail become a jail. Zoo as death row.

That's my day. What's yours? MHS

A bright morning at last, but quite cold. I woke to find a note from Stephen Watts. He did not mention but I knew he was thinking of me on the anniversary of Sebald's death yesterday. I had thought about this all week but for yesterday. Perhaps this was the source of sadness at the week's end. For me.

I pulled out a text Stephen wrote last spring for some event around Sebald in Norfolk where he lived. He writes about Austerlitz and I came across the source of a quote I kept on my wall in Paris, "we who are still alive are unreal in the eyes of the dead". Stephen had made reference to this of Sebald on his way to speaking about his poem for "Max" after he died. It should be in the WORKS section of this site soon.

I went on to read again about the village that Sebald came from in Bavaria, Wertach im Allgau, near Switzerland, and the Italian village of Precasaglio where Stephen's maternal grandfather came from, also near Switzerland. He goes on to tell of their plan to walk between these places together. Then I realized that I must be near to at least one of these places and located Wertach im Allgau not far by crow. By car I will have to enquire, but clearly would take some time driving the small curved roads. I also located a web cam on the internet by chance: www.sionvalais.com/review.php?id=125940 Not much to see but a bit jarring to find. I wrote to Stephen that this could now record his arrival or departure. Is this an eye of the dead?

It has been a pink day. The sky has held pink patches in the scattered clouds. It feels like the sun is permanently rising and setting.

Ok, here are some links sent to me lately

Juan Carlos sent this
http://youtube.com/watch?v=YxSH64k0KfA

Danielle Edwards this
http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=23712250

And Melody Owen, something she just made

http://www.thistlepress.net/video/kirakira_mowen.mov

It is now Monday. Did not sleep well, but the sun is out and life goes on. In Paris a friend turned on the radio to New Order's BLUE MONDAY. Yes, the sky is blue.

Have not yet seen this but Ben Ayres of Rough Trade Records sent this, so it must be worth something!

http://www.superfurry.com/gift/

Perhaps I will have more to say later. Good afternoon! MHS

Monday I woke up bright after a good sleep. My mood was good and Ben was arriving that evening. It was my first 4-hour morning with Margarethe, by occupational therapist. It began with a test of pressing buttons and using my feet in reaction to colored lights and 2 tones. This was repeated at the end of the morning. In between I spoke excitedly to Margarethe explaining what I did over the weekend and to discuss how to do our turtle here, and so on. I crashed before the second test. That means I lost control of speaking. A great fatigue makes it difficult to control my tongue and I strain physically in making words.

I canceled my afternoon appointments, rested and swam. Ben Hopkins arrived around six and I showed him my Beirut film. Then Margarethe took him to his apartment and on to a restaurant in the next town. It was hard for me to talk but I was happy to see him and to hear about his filming in Turkey (he was on his way to his lab in Berne to check his print). We also spoke about Sebald and I reminded him that Friday is the anniversary of his death. (I remember hearing the news from Odile at her Village Voice bookstore in Paris as she received it over the wire back in 2001 - a shock, a great sadness).

Ben did say that I was clearer in my speech, which made me happy. I have since realized he never asked me to repeat anything. In Paris this better diction began and is being improved upon greatly here. We did not stay out late and enjoyed a strange but OK raclette. I tried a couple of sips of red wine but it was not only difficult to drink, but tasted bad. Like when I first tasted it out of hospital. The vinegar properties are unpleasant. Sad this. White wine is probably still easier, and more to my present palate. Drinking is not part of my life now. I don't think it will be again but for a little wine with food, and that will be nice.

It is now Thursday morning and I am just waking. I was happy to hear that Maire Losier was happy with Larry Wineland's work, and Larry was happy to work with Marie. I had put them together since seeing Marie in Paris and she expressed a need for help in preparing the sound for her film on Tony Conrad. Larry was a student of mine at Bennington College whom I introduced to C-5 for a job. They hired him and it was the beginning of his career in sound on feature films. So I can still produce at great distance!

It was also a thrill to learn Francisco Bello, a student from Cooper Union, has a short SALIM BABA in competition at the upcoming Sundance Film festival. Francisco and fellow student Rona Chang www.ronachang.com both keep in touch and have become turtles. Francisco was also involved in this stilly funny ode to Bill Murray http://youtube.com/watch?v=Me_as_Yp46.

Time to go. MHS

Sonntag. Susan Sontag. I just read her name yesterday in relation to Virginia Woolf's ON BEING ILL. I have yet to read ILLNESS AS METAPHOR. How often have I thought to and lost the thought. Books come often when they are most needed. Susan will always be there. It is good to dive back in to AGAINST INTERPRETATION and STYLES OF RADICAL WILL.

Slow waking this morning. Still dreaming a lot, between New York and here at the clinic. My body has not had such attention for years, exercise a stranger. Must welcome and not let it leave.

The ZEPTOR is quite a shake up. Two plates beneath the feet move in separate patterns and rhythm, somewhat simulating downhill skiing. It can help the throat muscles for swallowing and, hopefully, compliment the work with the soft palate. It needs stimulation. Of course the entire body is affected. I do it in 50-second sections with 30-second pauses, 5 times a day. I swim when I can on top of two physical training periods in the pool, and have begun on the cross trainer and, yes, I run. You can't really call it that yet.

The work with one of the speech therapists is most interesting. Simply making sounds of 'a', 'o' and 'ng' to learn to create different architectures in the mouth with the tongue, keeping aware of the soft palate contact and the air flow through the nose. It is frustrating for me yet fascinating. All the things one takes for granite with the body, the complexity of the seemingly most simple acts. Each day I review small moments of triumph in my recovery, including the first time I could smell to being able to shower alone. Food - the first solid food was a small cup of yoghurt which took at least 45-minutes to consume. The tongue, so important in eating. There are still foods I must avoid and others I blend to drink, as I do cereal. But at each stumble there is so much to be thankful for. Especially here in the rehabilitation atmosphere where things are put in to great perspective.

While I will enjoy bringing turtle here I hope that it can continue in some way. Not just here, but I am thinking of how to incorporate turtle in to the hospital and recovery environment. I have to write to the Slade Art School in London about an artist-in-residence position and am thinking to engage the students in taking turtle to the neighboring National Hospital, the place I fell in to and put me back on my feet. I am sorry that I cannot return to visit the patients and staff this holiday season. But I keep in touch with some of my nurses, therapists and doctors.

It is evening now. I am very tired, but so happy since I reached an 'e'!!! While swimming this afternoon I was alone and took the opportunity to practice my vowels. And I did it! I can say ME!! I can sing with Gina Birch on her song "SOME ONE LOVES ME". That is a big step for me. That said, pronouncing an extended vowel is a lot easier than speaking. Words require quick movement. But this may be a step closer. I am retraining my brain how to make these sounds.

The process since hitting rehab in London has been relearning. How to walk, brush teeth, use the toilet, breathe, eat. the body is a wonder. I am lucky to have healed so much. Perhaps if I did not have such fatigue I would have accepted my recovery and not be working so hard on my speech and overall strength. Fatigue keeps me from working, which is life. I can be a silent filmmaker without fatigue. I still have a ways to go, but I am hopeful. And I am working hard.

I hope this is not too boring for you to read. I know I bounce all over the place and I write on the fly, but I need this. I need you. Good night, MHS

First weekend at the clinic. This morning I wrote the traces that took me up to my journey here.

It is Saturday afternoon and I have just finished lunch. I am reading last Saturday's Guardian Review section. It is one of two paper's I bought in Paris each week, along with Friday's Independent. It often takes me the week to read and is good to pick up haphazardly and discover. Today I find myself reading Seamus Heany's "The pathos of things" which I could easily misread as the "paths", or chemins, of things.

It is within this article that I have stumbled upon Ezra Pound's "In a Station of the Metro" which reads,

The apparition of these faces in the
          crowd:
Petals on a wet, black bough

I used this poem in SOUVENIR in a voice-over during a pan across place Gambetta. I wrote about that place a while ago after seeing Animal Collective. I showed you the phone booth where Orlando makes a call and leaves. It is the next shot which crosses the fountain and thunder begins to sound.

The music is by Johem Paap, aka Speedy J, of Rotterdam. The power of poetry and the wonder of happenstance. I feel lucky to have come across this most beautiful poem today, to reflect back on the city I just spent six months in, where I shot SOUVENIR, a city which continues to resonate in my life. Here I am learning more about this poem. True poetry is always rediscovering and continuing to see anew.

Driving back from a consult with Professor Bassetti on Thursday, a very impressive doctor (of sleep), his humanity, his kindness, I wrote,

In knowledge is poetry.
Through poetry is knowledge.

Since then I have been trying to find a place for kindness, something like a fertilizer or force that envelops or saturates this idea, our lives.

Kindness, the foundation of turtle.. Thanks again to Jan Morris who offered this for turtle from her book, "Trieste and the Meaning of Nowhere". Everything leads somewhere, which is a nowhere. Let's recognize this.

I often say "get lost" to people as they go off to travel, even those returning home. Getting lost is leaving yourself to rediscover the familiar, open to the new. Rebecca Solnit wrote, "A Field Guide to Getting Lost", a wonderful book of essays. I remember her reflecting on Yves Klein, which leads me to Derek Jarman's film BLUE... I am lost.

I learned this year that Derek hated Paris. He did not show for the opening of CARRAVAGIO. All this reminds me to find a way to bring Derek in to this turtle. Dear Derek, lost his body, left his soul. The last thing I pulled off my wall in Paris was an anonymous IN MEMORIUM from a British newspaper of several years ago which I left up to hang over Gina Birch's bed. I cannot recall what it said, but I wrote of it early this year here, and John Gianvito quickly wrote me to learn its source. It touched him. I hope it touched others.

I believe I forgot to mention how good Silversun Pickups were. To be able to shoot them on stage gave me life. It always does. I only learned later, when bass player Nikki Monninger wrote, that they played their longest show and dedicated a cover of SHADOWPLAY (Joy Division) to me.

Congratulations again to Anton for the recent awards in London for CONTROL, his portrait of Ian Curtis. It hurt, too, as ENIGMATIC could have joined in the awards as the documentary on Joy Division. Had I only taken care of myself.

It is Thursday morning 6 December and the sky is brightening outside my winder. The dark blue shapes of clouds behind and above the trees. Yesterday it was so clear you could taste the distant mountains. Such flavor enters the eyes.

The Sundance film festival will premiere Isaac Julien's film about Derek Jarman. Colin MacCabe produced. Am looking forward to seeing it.

I thought a lot of Derek last Sunday when I went to the Fotomuseum in Wintherthur. Zoe Leonard was there to speak of her work and walk through her show. I do not know Zoe but her work has meant a lot to me since seeing her first show at Paula Cooper Gallery in the early 1990's. Her talk was inspiring, both for the way she regards her work, as she regards life, and her referencing New York in the early 1980's. Although we never met, we shared the same city, the same "scene". And the reminder of the many friends we lost to AIDS. Again, a circle back in my life, and a place from which turtle emerged.

Some random notes on filming and editing:

I remember in London filming Electrelane not long after I was out of hospital. I had filmed them in Nantes before I fell ill. In Paris it was so special to film Young Marble Giants (YMG). I can film, but I can't edit. That hurts. It is easy for me to consider the material, to make notes and have ideas, but to edit is to have control over your editing tools. SHE'S LOST CONTROL.

I have been so lucky over the years to have worked with editing artists, especially Laura Israel. Oona Bijasson, a filmmaker in Paris, filmed YMG with me and will edit that concert. I began Maitre Lihseb Please (p.s. Beirut) and the edit is what I want it to be. I never tire of watching it. I had planned to continue this past summer, but that is where I ran in to a wall. The wall built by the illness. How do I regard that wall?

At least I can still look, build (turtle), and share in this way with you. MHS

I am here at the clinic just waking in my room. It is the beginning of something unplanned, an addition to my schedule of 6 months in Paris. I have not been able to write as the packing and preparing took all my time. And more. A lot of me remains in Paris. Paris is not over for me, or for turtle. I would have finally have been going home to New York at this time but now it is delayed for one month for the opportunity to focus on my health here at a neurological clinic in Switzerland. It seems a fairy tale which came our of Cité Internationale des Arts. I was drawn to the flute playing of Andrea Loetscher, made friends with her just before she completed one year at Cité, and even a video of her performing VOICE for solo flute by Takemitsu. I mentioned a dream of a Swiss clinic to help me and, a few weeks later I visited her in Basel, her home, and she brought me here to this clinic. The director is her godfather!

So while I feel that I have been unable to do much of what I had hoped in Paris this may be its best reward. We'll see - I'll keep you posted! My occupational therapy here will help to train me how to return to working in a way which will help and compliment my recovery, which I have to expect will continue to be a slow one. This therapy will include writing my traces, returning to being able to edit my Beirut film, and turtle! Yes, I will make turtle here for the patients - a program of film, poetry and music (Andrea will come to perform).

My first contribution to this, which will be part of a turtle archive I will build and leave here, is Inger Christensen's BUTTERFLY VALLEY, A REQUIEM, in German. She is well published here and it is a beautiful edition I first discovered in Düsseldorf at the Müller & Böhm bookshop in the Heinrich Heine House. The bookstore owner, Rudolph, gave Anna of nüans a copy, when we met to discuss doing a turtle there. When Katje Stucke was coming from Germany last week I had her buy a copy from Rudolph for the clnic (along with the German original of W.G. Sebald's THE EMMIGRANTS). With these two works I begin turtle here.

I am encouraged by the doctors and therapists in Paris and here who, unlike in London, are more hopeful of further recovery. They speak of the plasticity of the brain. Plastic fantastic turtle!

Now I have a lot to recall. Let's go back to the turtle weekend:

Monday 19 November

Wonderful weekend. I woke to this:

Wonder what is going on here in Venice? A rescue, I hope! Or a joy ride. Martina Klein sent this along for best wishes for a turtle weekend.

Here is Kirsty Gunn on Sunday at the Red Wheelbarrow Bookstore reading from her novel, "The Boy and the Sea".

This is the "new" Gina Birch before her show on Saturday night at Nouveau Casino. She is wearing a shirt she made in 1977!!

The strike was on so we had to walk to the venue and home again after. All went swimmingly. There was a problem for the video projector to get the images right, but, who cared! The performance was wonderful and the spirit overwhelming. I convinced Gaelle Obiegly to help me speak to the audience. after playing the short THE TEMPTATION OF VICTORIA.

"Hello I am Michael Shamberg
This film came out of seeing The Concretes here almost 3 years ago. Coming back is part of my return to life. That is Turtle. This is Turtle. The music, the spirit, the poetry."

"Bonjour, je suis Michael Shamberg
Ce film m'est venu après avoir vu The Concretes, il y a presque 3 ans, ici. Y revenir fait partie de mon retour la vie. C'est Turtle. Ceci est Turtle. La musique, l'esprit, la poésie."

(read the text of its making at www.kinoteca.net).

Galle's voice captured the audience as in a song, where the words are less important. Thankfully so, since I scribbled them quickly. Apt for the music venue.

The rest of the week seems a blur. Packing, saying goodbye, meeting the head of Cité to thank her and about a return. I am sad that I was unable to make the turtle there that I had hoped, and could not edit my film. But that is why I am now here.

I pause here to reflect on the view. This, my favorite time of day, the sky filling with light, coloring the scattered clouds through the bare trees, the small mountains in the distance.

Back to Paris. I stopped by Red Wheelbarrow to say goodbye to Penelope and to pick up MOOMINVALLEY IN NOVEMBER, Tove Jansson's last book for children. The two films on Tove and her partner, Tuulikki, just arrived. They are compiled from super-8 films Tulikki shot with Tove on their summer island and their travels in Europe (www.lumistore.net).

Melody helped me complete p.s. Beirut (from the red chemin) and made the data disc she needed. Sonja was completing her plaster forms for her upcoming show at Cité. Here they are installed.

This is the view from the gallery looking out to the rue L'Hotel de Ville. The Seine runs behind the trucks and the buildings are on the Isle de la Cité. Sonja's work always transforms the space that she is given, a wonderful dialog between architecture and art.

It was a most difficult