Reference Rick Masters. The space between the chords. Lao Tze Canon of reason and virtue - number 11.
Thirty spokes unite in one nave and on that which is non-existent {on the hole in the nave HUB] depends the wheel's utility. Clay is moulded into a vessel and on that which is non-existent [on its hollowness] depends the vessel's utility. By cutting out doors and windows we build a house and on that which is non-existent [on the empty space within] depends the house's utility. Therefore, existence renders actual but non-existence renders useful.
Sometimes you gotta' push the stick forward while you're lookn' at the ground
I have a wild Kestrel visiting us from time to time around the feeders, and I see the tail feathers as an important part of their hoovering and landing ability. balances like the tail of a cat.
Question from this ground bird; Could the addition of "tail feathers" help a Hang Glider land slower and smoother, (like a drogue chute) and if so, how could they be made to attach on the back of the "POD" and controlled by the feet and a control bar twist grip?
Sometimes you gotta' push the stick forward while you're lookn' at the ground
Jeff Beck, what can I say about Jeff Beck? I mean the Control that exudes from Him, Ah I just hope to be able to Play will enough so that I have semblance of control. I mean Jeff is On-Fire when it comes to Playing!
This song was played by Dan Gryder (36:34) on his great podcast, who is a well known old school pilot talking about his airplane. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=COFam_oAJyw
It made me think of Chris and his Predator and his guitar.
I add this truly beautiful piece by Rick Masters along the same vane.
You embrace her and feel her tremble and sigh, responsive to your touch. You pay attention to the air ocean you are about to enter. You don’t turn your back to it’s waves, lest they sweep you away. You don’t make a bunch of ridiculous and distracting choreographic moves at the critical moment of take off. You stand firm and focus on the sky that beckons you. You stand firm and focus on the movement of the air coming up the hill towards you. A gust? A thermal? The devil? Your hang glider is completely ready to go, trusting you to guide her. You stand there, confident, in quiet excitement, feeling her fly on your shoulders like an ever wondrous and powerfully fleet, obedient Gryphen about to be released from her cage. You see the grass ripple. You watch the birds. You listen to the words of the wind, sometimes you wait for signs of a thermal teasing the bushes. You wait for the right moment, when the wind feels perfect, with your fabulous wing already flying inches over your head, responsive to your every command. You trust her. Then you take a few steps and fly away to heaven. You are joyously and instantly and smoothly transformed into an ethereal being. There is no drama. Drama is for idiots. R.M. 2018
I started "Hawks and Larks" with this 1974 rendition by my favorite band, and it seems appropriate to love.
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