on the birthday of harry everett smith

 it's the birthday of harry everett smith. 

it's not just that he's an animator. it's not just that he's a music collector. it's not just that he's collector of paper airplanes. he's a genius. but he's also (like fahey) a grump and a curmudgeon. 

the getty museum has purchased his papers. and the books based on his life and collections are starting to emerge - the one based on paper airplanes he found on new york sidewalks, the one based on string figures he'd collected, on egg decoration in slavic cultures.

in the animation above a baphomet appears - one hand pointing up into the heavens another down into the subconscious below. harry was photographed like this. 

today horsemouth is off to visit howard. (they've just got to set a time). tomorrow evening (he thinks) a meet up with minty (and maybe anthony). horsemouth has been playing through go your way my love (he only really knows the anne briggs version, ok there's the bert jansch version where he goes oh woe is me rather a lot) but avoiding the fiddly finger-picking. he might show it to howard and propose it. (they have a gig at the end of august and are working up some repertoire). 

horsemouth is up. he has over-slept (but he does feel thoroughly rested).