GEEBY DAJANI

FORTY DEUCE MAESTRO/ DJ
LONG TIME FRIEND AND MENTOR/TEACHER
HUMBLE , CHARISMATIC, CREATIVE
OWNER & COLLECTOR OF AN AWESOME
COLLECTION OF VINYL
 FUNNY, BEAUTIFUL SOUL
YOU LIVE FOREVER IN SO MANY HEARTS
LOVE YOU GEEBY

ME62

tank and the bangas

• Boxes and Squares
• Ants
• Hot Air Balloons
• Forgetfulness
• Nice Things
• Ripperton Love
• Quick

theye endingest thy beginagain

THORNHILLS

We had the awesome pleasure of refurbishing this amazing signage! The fine couple that bought the building stepped up to fortify a beautiful landmark. Signs are not what they used to be, with LEDS -Neon has been pushed back. Just as it was when the fluorescent tube was created. The availability for Neon supplies has become grossly strained. The prices have almost tripled , not to mention the rare glass is extremely difficult to get a hold of or is not being made anymore. From the housings to the block out paint; can only be bought in bulk now an even then it is not being made with the same quality & standards.  Europe has even cut back in making certain types of coated glass. The fine glass benders of our time are growing older. As Neon dies out, what millennial is gonna carry the torch?  It would be interesting to talk to the others about how drastic times are changing in the world of brite lites. Neon is a sacred science, an alchemy. After all Tesla used the very same tools.

                                          

damaged

Blonde Redhead - For the Damaged Coda from gui on Vimeo.

It is hard to comprehend the gravity of divorce upon a young girls heart, when you have grown up with both parents/ There is no way to know or even understand. I have heard that a young girls first love is with her father. So if he chooses to leave the family nest, the endless need for validation & of worthiness settles in. I have to say over time I had no question in my heart how much he really did love me. Loved us. He certainly healed me. He never spoke badly about our mom in front of me an my brother. I think that helped with our over all wellness. I honestly, do not believe the hope of PARENTS REUNITING ever goes away, although, perhaps, suppressed, the yearning IS ALWAYS THERE UP ON A SHELF. But growing up, maturing, shedding the denial, living in the acceptance - you see your parents getting on with their life. Actually dwelling in happiness, it radiates to all the family members. This picture was taken by my brother in the very parking lot my dad died in, 2 years later . They may have "revived" him but his brain was fried. "REVIVING HIM" served it's purpose- so we could all be with him when he passed over to the other side. This picture was right after his first stroke. I too was sick, but didn't know it yet. I was waking up with double vision every morning, a swollen eye and couldn't understand why. Thyroid EYe Disease was my prognosis. My dad ended up passing away from a pulmonary embolism. I look at this picture an I look into my sweet little daddies eyes. His Love is so immensely prominent. It floats me to look at this picture. Lately, I have been blogging about my dad because perhaps I am trying to heal from feeling his physical loss. I don't know. It doesn't matter. THe Physical condition is such a suffering burden , filled with status freaks, competitive money whores and false look at me bravadoes. It makes me so still. Still an quiet. My words show I may need to work on the denial in that statement. I am a work in progress. I've been told my honesty is awkward.

Happy BIrthday EVe DaD!!!!

The day I found out my dad was on life support and the prognosis did not look good, I had been asking my dad for a sign ~ to either go to Minnetonka or not...and as I arrived to work, I got out of my car, and directly above the entire shop, the sky was saturated with 100's of seagulls at all altitudes. Not really flying, rather gliding and wafting to and fro in some sort of air current. I knew immediately, without hesitation that I had to book my flight. My dads' spirit was hovering - waiting for us to be by his side. The very next morning I arrived at the airport several hours early, and noticed at my gate that there was a final call for Minneapolis- I asked if I could get on that flight and sure enough - If I took the emergency window seat, I would be able to arrive a full half day ahead of the original plan. As the plane filled up , one of the last people to sit down was a Pastor Deacon. He sat right next to me. We slowly got to talking and he said he remembered my dad in the Christmas Carol, among other productions at The Guthrie. He was returning from another country as his faith brings him around to help youths & the less fortunate. By the end of the flight, he asked if it would be ok if we held hands and say a prayer for dad. The flight gently landed , there was a sense of peace that no matter what, dad would be right where he was supposed to be. This Morning I was walking Alice around the block. I have been wondering about my feelings towards family circumstance the past few weeks. And often upon my walks , voices are clear in commune with. I know I have been somewhat passive aggressive thru my social media posts- in manners concerning the marriage of my father's widow bride to his best friend- a few weeks ago. I have been trying to understand my part in being cut out of all communication. My brother was told and invited. But I am not being included in the loop, perhaps it was that I did not attend My dads Funeral? My brother told me that all I missed was Dad's best friend made the eulogy. Funny Richard E, already had his tentacles around the family. I will never know, and when I do My Emotional Laundry, sorting it all out in all of it's lights, dark's and colors... I do understand all too well that it is not where I am supposed to be nor is it where I am even wanted. But the inner voice was clear. There were two gulls following me an Alice. Even Alice looked up at them gliding along our walk and She would look over at me. Made me smile. The Voice was Clear, Me an Dad had a talk, well rather my dad spoke to me,& I listened. Occasionally, I asked a question...but mostly, ON this eve of my father's birthday- he knows everything, he loves everyone an he wishes everyone well. All he wants me to do is follow his lead. As he always ever wanted for me. He taught me the love of spirit. He showed me the gentleness of authentic sources beyond any wallet would or could. We didn't NEED anything, we already had everything. My father was one of a kind. HIs NEED for STATUS was nill and void- NO money will ever replace his spirit, no glitter of jazzy white hair will ever come close to the type of music my father created with his imagination, his sketches or his oddity of complete self. His spirit is on fire in his sons, and his daughters forever. On the eve of Friday the Thirteenth 2019, a full moon weekend, no less. I know, the family knows what day it is. and we will forever be entangled wether we like it or not. SOmetimes I wonder if the hillbilly hate I inherited from my dad is in the lineage? It's such a weird thing. Love and Hate. SUch a Fine Line. But for today I take responsibility for my passive aggressive behaviours, I would only hope for compassion towards the things I do not understand and in that very reality I back away from feelings of exclusion and omission, that everything is ok. INside & OuT. Peace be with YoU and also with U.

kidon bauman

I always think about this day on this day.... where I was..... what happened, what day it was on august 2, I could look it up saturday? but being with dad during the summer , every day felt like a saturday! 10 am or maybe 9 am? we were woken up by the phone ringing. My dad answered an woke me up and I believe it was Kidon's grandma that told me- she promptly hung up, the silence , there was nothing more to say. Kidon had taken that leap into the vast universe he would talk to me about always, He showed me the stars, constellations hH taught me about numerical symbolism and I would listen to his heart beating when he let me rest my head on his chest. He was my first "serious" kiss my first up the shirt experience. He told me once that I had been raped my an alien>?>????? and at the age of 11, that word was a violation in an of itself. He actually seemed to be in a weird trance when he said me an my grandmother were both raped by Aliens.... I was kind of mad at him for awhile over that, but he claimed he didn't realize he had said it. Perhaps he was in a Trance? Kidon was my Greenwhich Skate Partner . We skated backwards on ALL the slow songs. We were skate partners. He was such a good skater... he would always ask me, at first ! was like who is this guy and then I noticed a few weekends in a row, the skate rink felt lighter then usual. Found out from our mutual skate friend.... the skate guard Michael , that there was a new skate rink called The Roxy. West 18th st. It was enormous! an I do remember the very first time I entered, it was a monster space, big enough to house godzilla and sure enough the very first guy I saw was KIDON skating fast and free with his skate wings wrapped around the top of his boot/ankles I loved that guy, we were the cutest couple of all time! I thought I would marry him once, but we did stay friends , ups an downs... We went to see alot of movies together, Kramer Vs. Kramer up on 82nd and second ave? always held hands, Kidon was teaching his little brother Beau, Spanish. Kidon , to me, was ahead of his time. He was a special person. There was something very different about him. And when we were together it felt right an We always got alot of attention, for being such a good fit? It was a special feeling all the way around 360 degrees. I was a creep one year, I fell for one of his buddies Adam Sobel, and acted like a snob. I acted like I didn't know Kidon for a bit, but after I realized he didn't even realize I was missing,,,, hahahha ... he had other girlfriends.... How self centered I could be!! We always kept in touch. To think at 11 I was head over heals. To realize he would be gone at the age of 16, seems insane. My step mom at the time knew the devastation cancer caused as it stole her mother, so when we first found out Kidon was so sick from a "tumor", Debbie was the first person to understand how fatal the diagnosis was. I didn't know what a tumor was. And he battled for 3 years, sat in trees, taught himself to windsurf in front of their home in South Hold Ny. The Telescope he had was the biggest thing I ever saw, it was on a base with wheels. He was looking out into where he came from , I know it, I just know he was extremely rare creature. One summer we took him to the original lake house. He would spend a super extra boring long time standing at the edge of the dock, determined to show me how he was moving the stick in the water, what is that called telekinesis?!!! He knew he could do it, it just took time_ time I wanted him to myself. Meanwhile, he did not want to stop playing stick ball in the streets to come with me an my family/ he was such an all around MAVERICK ...for his age he was entirely special. Somehow Kidon's grandma found me in Cambridge, Mass.- always with dad in the month of august! To let me know that he had left us. I was devastated. I never forgot / I never will. Love you always... think of you often. xoox

Dear Richard Erickson

Dear Richard Erickson, We have been best friends since the very beginning of our acting days. We had a love, a "BROMANCE" some would say. Two Gents of Verona was the beginning of our journey & That lovely white powder. AHhhhh , the good ol' days. In all the years that we have journeyed , you watched me rise , seen me fall & rise again. I always thought, I wanted what you had ( crazy MONEY) and You wanted what I had ( RICH soil/ SOUL). I just never, in a million years, thought you & her would go to these lengths to take me away. I wonder what Julie thinks of all of this now? Ahhh..... what's unusual about any of it right? ! I mean, truly it is common these days, best friends coming to the emotional rescue of the widow wife. It's been "accepted" for centuries , no one would truly look into that. With my first stroke, I barely made it thru my daughter's wedding, funny how ~ One foot in the grave - plans for a divorce with your wife were put in motion. Perhaps My demise was also something put into a potion. No autopsy to prove any of it. I wonder if MY kids would buy into your dirty jets and your music clubs if they knew WHAT I KNOW. Maybe the Richie Rich has sent their eyes amiss.

Bottoms line, dearest Dickie; I wanted to thank you for hitting up on my family. Moving in on them before my body was even cold. Hope you're happy with the way you've gained your riches. We all know your earning power! It is a family deposit in the bank. But of course , it takes a trust fund baby to know one. I know you guys have been hitting it for years. Horse back riding and camping, COME ON! Welcome to your new wife.  Have fun with that. Yours truly, Jimmy Dick

PS. You weren't her first choice but I guess the wallet carries weight in matters of the heart. In some cases , anyway.

The latest Chanel in which the aquifer 

the portal

becomes plasma

and the hand passes  thru

delivering

what

 comes 

forth in my mind

my heart

my scissors

the placement

the next

tiny little morsel

it feels good to haVE been chosen

SELECTED

amongst many

celebrated 

validated

and still I feel

completely

unworthy

like it is not mine

I would prefer to stay home

I look forward to seeing other works

other passages that commit to page

canvas

peakhole.

me mine moi

2019 NATIONAL JURIED EXHIBITION

Opening Reception: Thursday, June 20, 6-8pm Runs thru to July 13 ( closed 4th of july)

FIRST STREET GALLERY is pleased to present the 2019 National Juried Exhibition.

 Juried by New York City gallerist Nancy Margolis, the works are a rich mix of painting, collage, mixed media, sculpture and photography. Ranging across diverse genres, styles, 

media and treatments, from figuration to non-objective imagery, 

the exhibition presents complementary yet distinctly individual artistic sensibilities.

The artists showcased are J.L. Abraham (NY), Erick Anderson (OH), 

David Barnett (NY), Kevin Bernstein (KS), Yana Beylinson (NY), 

Tyler Bohm (OH), Michele BonDurant (OH), Caitlin Bottoms-Newby (NY),

 Alaiyo Bradshaw (NY), Daniel Brewer (PA), Andy Brown (FL), Connie Brown (CT), 

Benjamin Whitney Buhl (PA), Ivana Carmen (PA), Ian Clyde (NY), Joey Cocciardi (NY)

 Susan Cohen (NY), Carol Crawford (NY), Anne Crowley (NY), Len DeLuca (NY),

 Stephen Dolleck (NY), Robert Feinland (NY), Sheila Ferri (NY), Nancy Gruskin (MA), 

Tracy Kerdman (NY), Monika Malewska (PA), Barbara Marks (CT), Russell Mehlman (NY), 

Norma Minkowitz (CT), Lisa Noble (VA), Sara O’Connor (NJ), James Parlin( PA),

 Laurie Peek (NY), Sarah Ratchye (CA), Marie Riccio (MD), Mark Rich (CT),

 Micheline Ronningen (OR).

GALLERY WILL BE CLOSED ON THURSDAY, JULY 4

#4 Submission

MISS YOU EVERY DAY DAD
AND THEN I REMEMBER
HOW HUMAN OF ME
BECAUSE IN FACT
YOU ARE WITH  ME
AND VISIT ME EVERY DAY

Jimmy the Cricket is dead

Have you heard?


Jimmy The Cricket is Dead,
the voice inside my head
let me in on the news,
it was an accident is what "they" said.


It was a very sneaky,
artful act.
It took time for the poison
to illuminate
the earth
where the truth is fed
in order to destroy him.
The art of success is a slow one,
it took time.
Time is money
and money is Time.
TIME to
replace;
replace the face of truth,
if only Jimmy the Cricket was
HERE,
 hear,
 to remind us.
The art of conscience
was his job & in all of his fruitful labors,

he was the kind of cricket that led the songs,
~songful chirps
sent an received with grace and love
the cricket wing way
 as codes, morris code~
Reminders to the heart
that riches don't come from a bag.
They come from the roots,
as sure as the silver spoon delivers white
powders of poison~
dollars doth tarnish the hearts of the pure......
He took pride in his message.

Unfortunate Jimmy , was slowly taken out
by the "doctor wife", a parasitoid,
who claimed she had saved him,
only to find that in time
a biopsy was declined.
The accident felt pure, no need to know more.

So the Anointed Ants
delivered Jimmy to Heaven
where the angels
sang out
"He was poisoned!"
The Ants returned
 delivering
 the message to my
 dorsolateral prefrontal cortex

A chorus of ants sang in melody
 the very pretext, that set forth
 the fourth dimension
hammering at my front door
 the truth
visually
on my inner eye screen
the events over years
as one may see when they die
the roots rotting , decayed by poison thus, disease......
was it Jimmy visiting me with the truth
I don''t know for certain,
from the white padded cell
I couldn't tell
the silence was so strong
The Cricket Conscience was gone
-it was all in my mind-
that's what "they said"
the doctors diagnosed her
brain dead.

my 3rd creation creatin'

yeRmUsictoMe

how apropos for the way I am feeling today
 to remain invisible
and be upset
is the true test
for today
 I want to DO and to SAY so many things
to
supposed family members
but when you are virtual strangers
and the very fact that yesterday should be no different then today
in the fact that
related new NEWS seriously has no impact on my life directly nor indirectly
thus, 
why in the hell
should I even waste another moment in the
hurt and sadness that weights my heart
down like a 2,444 lb. circular cement slab
ROPED AND TIED
around my neck
&
SHOVED IN

into the ocean
deep, down
 i miss him
shallow
 i hate
I breath
light
I fly
i forgive
no need for question
surrender
peace
light
love
live
go to where my father is
take me there
to my daddy

is it not found in
hierarchy.......
 nor does it exist where my father resides
nor does a spiritual pecking order exist
that;s all she ever wanted was some kind of fame.........
some kind of shallow notoriety
can you see the reflection
when you are looking up
at the surface of water?

A Call for ARt?!!!

What the Doctor said could never be forgotten "Son, don't you know that there's a pill for every problem in this little magic bottle that's filled with love". Little Cricket was only three he rubbed his magic bottle suddenly appeared a Genie (The Genie said) "I'm the patron saint of prescription drugs". So, remember when you need a hug just close your eyes and give your bottle a rub Cricket didn't need many friends cuz the Genie was such a perfect companion His horrible Mama had such an independent boy Just remember when you need a hug to close your eyes and give your bottle a rub Little Cricket was twenty-three he rubbed his plastic bottle but found the bottle was empty (the Genie was dead) he was suddenly such an unhappy boy he decided that he needed some fun he went to the store and purchased himself a gun

happy equinox 942pm full moon tonight

I was a Nun in one of my past lives........

Lévon Minassian (Duduk) - " They Have Taken the One I Love "

51 years old Jan22.........

Merry Happy holiday season, whichever an what ever it is you choose.... my biggest question this year, as I ease up into the cozy age of 51, "why is it a season of giving?" Shouldn't every day be a day of giving? WHy must it be a season to give? Slowing down, age checking vanity at the door, perspectives change circumstantially..... it would be nice to experience the age of 19 with the knowledge of my 50 year old self: or would it? Is it new found patience or an aging lack of desire that throws me into neutral? My fast lane mental awareness of how the story will end leaves me marking off bad ideas quickly, leaves me with a new kind of hunger, a new kind of special decision. Not so ready to bite into the apple anymore. It's poison after all. Or is it? isn;t that where experience is acquired in the red crisp skin, the juice ever so sweet? Like a small red bird that just flew into my window, gently enough to be able to return to a near by branch and brush it off,,,,, in my upcoming birthday, after you pass a certain mile marker,,, does one fly into windows anymore? I do believe the lessons are never ending up until the very moment of my last breath and yet somehow : similar to the way ancient waters sand down the edge of sharp stone creating a soft curve..... as the age of my wisdom softens the blows of my choices.. softens the needs to an absolute stand still. But in this quiet place the sound of a crisp apple being eaten echoes in my memory,,,,,, In karmic lessons, if there is such a thing as karma, : somehow; as we learn these lessons, over life times, the blandness actually takes on a bit of spice. The waters endless currents give the stones their shape, their character. The giving wether need be or where the blind truly see thru the hands of fate. To give with reverence , in reverence without expectation. To learn & grow up in reverence without expectation... without the things that feed ego: it is a whole new world. Mentally & emotionally In blind turtle style.