These are the letters unopened.
Why keep them sealed
when theyre new?
These are the words never spoken.
Why hold them back
when theyre true?
musician, model maker
Don Tassone was born in Providence, RI in June of 1951. At the age of 10, his father thought that a formal education in the accordion would be a "good money maker" in years to come. Thus was the beginnings of a long relationship with the treble clef. A while later his dad bought a $20.00 Stella guitar, a real turning point for Don, though he never had a lesson. With the help and encouragement of a friend, Don began to put some poems to music and found that this would be an ongoing compulsion, following him through the years. In 2004, the lead guitarist of a band that Don was in had the unfortunate circumstance of a fire consuming his house and everything in it. Two nights before, Don felt compelled to take all his gear home from the doomed basement rehearsal studio. All the other instruments succumbed to the fire. Shortly there after, during Christmas, a giant wave hit the Far East, killing nearly half a million people. This incident inspired Don to write and record in his home studio. What rose from all the ashes was for Don a new focus, that of a home recording artist and a solo troubadour.
Don has 2 cd's: Confessions Of A Conservative Liberal (2006) and Dandelion Wine(2007-2008).
Don is also a Model Maker:
Don Tassone is a model maker in the traditional sense
of the word, sculpting in wax, clay or white metal-
entirely by hand. Although also able to work in silver
and gold, Don is primarily a costume jewelry and
pewter model maker using centrifugal casting and
rubber molding to produce his items.
You can see Don's work at myspace.com/dontassonepewter and hear Don's music at myspace.com/dontassone.
Leonard Cohen, Joni, Neil, Peter Gabriel, Tom Rapp- Pearls Before Swine, Paul Simon, Michael Hedges, Robert Pirsig- author of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Rush, and Jesus, from Whom all things flow.
There was a book I read so long ago
A man and his son went for a ride
Searching in vane for the key to their lives
Never knowing it was in each other's eyes
But the code was never broken
It remains there to this very day
Never to be shaken
Never to be swayed
And the sun hangs low
In the sky these days
Only to sink beneath a distant hill
The heart will seek the answers still...