First, the Claw disclaimer. Our elite force, based on the sheer comraderie of all, air guitar will always be the foundation, but as a secondary family, Claw would like to think, and prefers to believe, has transcended. This means whatever happens in our lives, each of us are welcome to the events of others, air guitar-related, OR NOT.
After all, as much as air guitar means to the Claw, seeing other air guitarists playing actual, real, guitar, technically, should be considered a sin, as dictated by the air guitar gods, but Claw extends a pass anyway. Call it a mulligan. But only to family members.
Claw will update soon on the tri-gathering (Hot Lixx, Cold Steel, Awesome) at Gilman this evening, for which Claw was unable to attend. He did have a chance to swing by for a cameo at our correspondent's gallery get-together. That would be April Air-Niel's soiree, at her homebase, the Cafe Royale, at Post/Leavenworth. It was a composite of 8 different artists in the field of photography. April was prominently displayed, aside all the other, dare I say, inferior, wall-mounted attempts at capturing something in the still of the moment.
But seriously, folks, it was a nice display of the world around us, in color, and black 'n'white, for all to see. O'Niel was the shizziel. Nice work, Zona, the mastadona, of the new world.
Of course, Claw wouldn't be Claw without stirring up the shiznit by swearing, hot damn, not a single shot of one of us on stage, doin' our thang, holdin' nothin' in hand...no biggie. That's reserved for another day, when it's all about us, and nothing else. All in good time.
Like Claw says, it's about you and what you're doing, and not about us and what we're doing...
"In space, no one can hear you play."
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