Clink clink. Please raise your glasses (imaginary or otherwise). We'd like to propose a toast to today, the one and only. Here here. Chin chin. Cheers. Chim chim cheroo.
Tonight, Wednesday, March 10, we have the Clamdaddys Jam. This night of music, thanks to the incredible generosity of the Clamdaddys, has been going strong for 5 years now. We believe it is the best free night of music on the front range, possibly the world. Come join the community.
Tomorrow night another fun community, Geeks Who Drink trivia, at 6:30pm, beckons you to join the hilarity.
Following, at 9pm, we have a band called INOTIO. The name of the band is pronounced "In audio", but stands for "It's Not Over Till It's Over". Rock and roll. $5.
Friday night we have the stellar jazzy hip hop of staff favorite TheSaurus playing at 7pm.
We present the beautiful songs and intricate arrangements of Wadirum at 8:30pm. $8.
At 10:30pm we have Thanks To Philo, a blues-rock dance band from Parker, CO. $5
10:30am ZUMBA. Dance work out. Have fun and get in shape. $8
At 2pm Saturday we have a fundraiser for Music International (help get musical instruments to impoverished countries) with The Stan Jones band. Perfect if you are looking for a little afternoon delight. $5
At 5:30pm we have OTC Varmints, followed by Kate Laroux at 6:30pm and Martin Gilmore at 7:30pm. $5. All friends of ours and super talented.
At 8:30pm we have Medicine Jones and Stonebraker (10pm). Stonebraker always brings it and we look forward to rocking out with them Saturday night.
That's the weekend, the one and only.
Extra credit: Here's a poem by one of our favorite poets, the difficult and lovely Jeni Olin. It's a good example of an artist lost in her art. As Yeats put it, "How can you separate the dancer from the dance?"
Artist Statement #2
All paint is war paint when you're newly
stretched. Nude of grace, I want to be seen
with dignity or not at all. A plumeria lei
is the only noose the Ethers will allow,
fractional ownership of grief only. I take
the candor of the animals as birthright, baby
gear. It is 5 in the morning inside the heart.
Outside, the "constantly new darks." Pulsing
with winks, I'm almost awake. Getting it together
on a tract of peat march swamp, a trophy for atrophy
at great speed. I will not award this momentum nor
tag this "over." I have no energy for down below.
Close to throbbing, I can still swim like this
in THE AMERICAN TUB. If you are mining for hearts
of gold, visit the expert, the exposed sleeve, with
its apotheosis part, "sling." No matter how warped
I see the world, it's my world, cracked & salty.
Nude of grace, I paint it anyway.