Lena Maude

Dry Flower Dictionary

www.thesixtyone.com/lenamaude

Album: Dry Flower Dictionary
Available for purchase May 30, 2012 

With recommendation from the majestic Dede Alderman I recorded 12 tracks with a Mr. Pat Niemisto. With barely any upsets beside a tummy ache we managed in two sessions to create a collection. Pat used ‘booky’ as an attribute for my tunes…and I liked it! Simple, grade-school flowers often serve as endcaps for poetic lines…and a lyric in Milky Fingers “Store dry flowers in a dictionary”  solidified a working title for the collection. Dry Flower Dictionary…has a little ring to it and reminds me of the flowers my mother put in our house dictionary, or the times my sisters and I smashed pieces of white bread in the same dictionary by stomping atop it.

Thanks to my friend Dan Kelly (tricksterpictures) Milky Fingers has been manifested as a video. Milky Fingers was written during my sophomore year at University in an apartment I love to refer to as ‘Amber’s Attic’. This song is largely important as it was one of the first written that explored the extravagant corners of the imagination. It is emblematic of my time of realization, or rites of passage.

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Lena Maude

—Slamming that Heavy Door

Lost in a Mind Game of Names: Laying in the Long Grasses on the Hill by the Corner Traffic Light

We needed a bed, someplace to rest, so we started naming ourselves after thoughts in our heads: thimble, windmill blade, conscientious objector, humming bird, husband, alien space bat.

The thoughts were plenty and they had plenty to eat. Never was there a lack of edible edifices. With every subtle movement on the head there was new sights and things to be seen. With every question was an answer accompaniment waiting to be found. And every part of the train chases itself in endless continuem. Motion ever flashing between concrete and light, greenery and machines. And we can just close our eyes and let everything move so that once open the eyes may perceive what they will, filling in the gaps of the still frames with a gist of what there is at the peak of a breath that hints at life. 

We needed names, something to call ourselves by, so we started resting in beds: lover, daughter, fire ant, coyote, smelt iron, lever, protestant, protestor.

to be continued-

Book: The Secret Teaching of Plants

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Lena Maude

—short dreams litter a troubled sleep

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Lena Maude

—cause for celebration

Written about my father’s homestead. The somber realization and the enthusiasm of change.