Exploring Daniel Botkin’s Visual Tribute to Dylan's Mr. Tambourine Man

I've been following Daniel Botkin's art for many years now, always impressed by one common denominator, his ability to surprise.

Mr. Tambourine Man, by Daniel Botkin. (Click to enlarge)

Daniel Botkin’s painting Mr. Tambourine Man is a captivating visual tribute to Bob Dylan’s iconic song of the same name, weaving together a rich array of artistic influences into a singular, evocative work. Featured on the cover of Botkin’s book Visions of Dylanna, this piece is more than a mere illustration—it’s a fusion of musical inspiration and art-historical homage, layered with meaning and creativity.

At first glance, the painting’s surreal composition draws the viewer into a dreamlike space. A guitar floats ethereally against a stark black sky, a deliberate nod to Salvador Dali's "Christ of St. John of the Cross.". In Dalí’s masterpiece, Christ hovers above the earth in a striking, otherworldly perspective, and Botkin mirrors this positioning to imbue the guitar—Dylan’s instrument of choice—with a sense of transcendence. It’s as if the music itself has taken flight, rising above the mundane to resonate in a cosmic void.

Dominating the upper portion of the canvas is the titular “Mr. Tambourine Man,” a figure whose pose echoes William Blake’s Ancient of Days. In Blake’s work, a divine creator bends forward, compass in hand, shaping the universe with precision and power. Botkin adapts this stance for his Tambourine Man, suggesting a godlike mastery over melody and rhythm, orchestrating the song’s hypnotic pull. Yet, this figure is no traditional deity. With black skin and multi-colored hair inspired by Milton Glaser’s famous Dylan poster, the Tambourine Man bursts with vibrant, modern energy—a striking silhouette against the dark expanse.

Botkin’s reverence for Dylan’s Jewish heritage shines through in the figure’s attire. Adorned with a tallit (prayer shawl) and tefillin (phylacteries), the Tambourine Man becomes a bridge between the spiritual and the secular, blending Dylan’s cultural roots with the universal language of his music. This thoughtful detail grounds the painting in identity while elevating it into the realm of the symbolic.

Scattered across the composition are tambourines, each bearing the image of a man modeled after Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. Da Vinci’s figure, with its perfect proportions and outstretched limbs, represents humanity’s quest for harmony and balance. Here, Botkin places this “man” on the skins of the tambourines, perhaps suggesting that the song’s rhythm pulses with the essence of human experience—universal yet deeply personal.

Music, of course, is the heartbeat of the painting. Floating in the sky are the opening notes of the melody: “Hey, Mister Tambourine Man, play a song for me. I’m not sleepy…” These notes drift like stars, guiding the viewer through the composition. At the bottom left, a small boat carries the tune “Hey, Mister Tambourine Man” in musical notation. As Botkin notes, the boat’s modest size limited him to just these opening notes—a constraint that underscores the painting’s intimate scale and attention to detail.

Mr. Tambourine Man is a testament to Botkin’s ability to synthesize diverse influences into a cohesive whole. From Dalí’s surrealism to Blake’s mysticism, Glaser’s pop-art flair to da Vinci’s classical precision, the painting is a dialogue across centuries and styles, all in service of Dylan’s timeless song. It’s a celebration of creativity’s boundless reach, inviting viewers to lose themselves in its layers just as listeners lose themselves in Dylan’s lyrics.

For fans of Dylan, art enthusiasts, or anyone intrigued by the intersection of sound and vision, Botkin’s Mr. Tambourine Man—and its showcase on the cover of Visions of Dylanna—offers a journey worth taking. It’s a reminder that art, like music, can transport us beyond the everyday, into a space where imagination reigns supreme.

 

Thank you, Daniel, for allowing me to share your work with my readers.

Related: Visions of Dylanna

Kafka: Lost and Found

I can't remember if it was in high school or in a college class on Existential Fiction that I was first introduced to the writings of Franz Kafka via his surreal, symbolic story "Metamorphosis." I still have the book Continental Short Stories on my bookshelf with stories by Sartre, Camus, Lagerkvist, Borges and others which I read at Ohio U. Many of the stories made impressions that remain with me still.

Metamorphosis as literature corresponds to what Dali's The Persistence of Memory is to art. Kafka's novella depicts the anguish a traveling salesman experiences when he awakes to find he has been transformed into a giant insect, detailing the effects of this change on himself and his family.

So, I was in the library today looking for books by Han Kang, the newly minted winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature. While scouring the shelves in the vicinity of Kang I found a few Kafka works, incuding a small volume titled The Lost Writings. Translated to English in 2020, the book is a collection of very short entries, from paragraphs to a few pages in length. 

There's no real preface or introduction. Nothing more than a handful of laudatory quotes. One, by Nabokov no less, exclained that "Kafka is the greatest German writer of our time," stating that writers like Thomas Mann and Rilke were dwarfs compared to Kafka. 

Well, that one was a pretty low blow. Who is Nabokov to decide which faces should be on Literature's Mount Rushmore?

*

For students of fiction, The Lost Writings is rich with imagery that fires the imagination. Here is an early entry in this collection. 

So, you want to leave me? Well, one decision is as good as another. Where will you go? Where is away-from-me? The moon? Not even that is far enough, and you'll never get there. So why the fuss? Wouldn't you rather sit down in a corner somewhere, quietly? Wouldn't that be an improvement? A warm, dark corner? Aren't you listening? You're feeling for the door. Well, where is it? So far as I remember, this room doesn't have one. At the time this was built, no one had imagined such earth-shattering plans as yours. Well, no matter, a thought like yours won't get lost, we'll discuss it over dinner, and our laughter will be your reward.

*

Related Links
A Hunger Artist (story)
The Trial (novel)
The Trial (Film directed by Orson Welles)

Of Oracles and Wisdom-Keepers, Then and Now

We're all familiar with the notion of the wise old guru who lives in a cave on the mountain. Seekers of wisdom would set aside time to make their journey to the East to find that mountain, climb to its apex and ask the burning question on their hearts. 

In Greek mythology that wisdom was found by making a journey to the Temple of Apollo at Delphi on the slopes of Mount Parnassus. In contrast to directly asking the guru, who was considered a repository of wisdom, seekers would make their inquiries to the god Apollo via a medium known as the Oracle of Delphi. 

In both examples, the wisdom being sought required a journey with a quest. In both cases, the wisdom proffered was frequently veiled, a riddle that needed to be solved, a puzzle to be pieced together, a cryptic conundrum to be de-coded. In short, profound truths required engagement and effort to be laid bare.

* * * 

I woke this morning thinking about the contrast between those ancients and our modern world. Instead of the wisdom being privately pursued by seekers who make sacrifices to obtain it, the self-proclaimed gurus hire PR firms to promote their books or start podcasts and shout it from the mountaintops via social media platforms. 

Those thoughts brought to mind an anecdote which I shared in a blog post titled Dali: Madman or Genius? It went like this: According to the Masterpiece Paintings Gallery website, "Dali's ego and need for attention were never satisfied. His thirst for scandal was unquenchable. And 'the thought of not being recognized was unbearable', he said. He used to walk through the streets of New York ringing a bell whenever he felt people were not paying him enough attention. 'Every morning when I wake up I experience an exquisite joy -- the joy of being Salvador Dali -- and I ask myself in rapture what wonderful things this Salvador Dali is going to accomplish today.'”

What's going on here? Dali's behavior was preposterous, but.... but what's really going on?

At the center of it, the difference may well be contentment. I've read about Hollywood stars who are never content. Their whole lives revolved around ratings, or being acknowledged, or being seen with the right people. Is that really the meaning of my life, what others think of me? Or more specifically, what others whom I don't even know think of me. 

Teenagers struggle with this because they are immature. At a certain point, it's time to grow up and move on, isn't it?

* * * 

There's No Business Like Show Business

Show business is the entertainment industry. It includes all aspects of creating, producing, and distributing entertainment, such as music, film, television, theater, and live performance. Show business is a global industry that employs millions of people and generates billions of dollars in revenue each year.

The term "show business" is thought to have originated in the early 19th century, when it was used to describe the business of putting on shows and theatrical productions. Over time, the term has come to encompass all aspects of the entertainment industry, from the creation of content to its distribution and consumption.

But also, over time, this tendency to turn everything into entertainment has spread into nearly every market crevice like an oil slick on a Minnesota lake. It was probably easy for Muhammed Ali to transform boxing with his audacious antics, helped in large part by Howard Cosell standing by with his Wide World of Sports megaphone.

With the advent of television it was inevitable that sports--from football and baseball to basketball, hockey and golf--would become more about entertainment than the games. Sure, the players were serious about bringing home titles and championship rings, but the big bucks rolled in when media moguls learned how to turn these competitive games into "stories."

Scottish thinker Thomas Carlyle once called economics "the dismal science." But even this has been turned into an entertainment vehicle by the likes of the flamboyant, volcanic Jim Cramer. Even NPR presents an entertaining look at the markets, albeit with a different tone. Informative? Yes, but similarly recognizing that to keep listeners coming back there has to be some crafting taking place. "Now, let's look at the numbers."

In the realm of crime things have gotten especially bizarre. Today while browsing X (formerly known as Twitter) I saw a video of a woman violently assaulting a 13 year old girl in a store. As many as ten or more onlookers stood their watching and recording it on their cell phones, most likely to share on social media themselves. No one intervened.

When I was a kid I had a cousin in Ohio whose father was a volunteer assistant fire chief. They had a squawk box in their house so that when there was an accident or fire or some other incident my uncle could quickly take off to assist. Today, there are people who buy these squawk boxes just to listen to what's happening in the realm of law and disorder. Why wait till you read it in the paper or see it on TV? Listen as it happens.

And of course, there's politics. Elections must one of the strangest forms of entertainment devised by humankind. The debates? How deep can you go into a topic when you have one minute for a rebuttal.

Even we ourselves have been swept up in this show biz stance toward the world around us. From the way we present ourselves on social media to the way some people interact with their colleagues at work, we are constantly performing for others.

What are Instagram and Tik Tok all about? YouTube the same. "Look at me. I'm a star!" You bet you are. But what I want to know is what's underneath that veneer?

Related Link

Dali: Madman or Genius?

 

Ranking Bob Dylan Album Covers and More, with Dylan on my Mind

Dylan on my mind.

 

Click to enlarge.

This is a "chart" that I saw on Reddit. Seems like quite a while since I saw a list of favorite Dylan album covers. As for me, I find it almost impossible to do something like this. It's much like being asked to rank Dylan's albums (or the Beatles), or pick the top 10 songs.

One can't help but notice that all of the top tier selections are from the 60's and 70's. How much were the selections based on a love of those specific, iconic albums or their half century of famliarity?

Those early albums cemented Dylan's stature as a songwriter. His Never Ending Tour has cemented his stature as a performer. 

Here's a link to where I pulled the album cover chart from: https://www.reddit.com/r/bobdylan/comments/zhb5j2/bobs_album_covers_ranked/

* * * *

Another cool site I discovered this past 24 hours was an A.I. art generator. You plug in keywords, select a style and the bot create
s an image based on your criteria.  

Since I've got Dylan on my mind today (am writing this while listening the the Dylan Hour (Highway 61 Revisited, hosted by Miriam) and a Dylan-themed op-ed was published in our local Duluth News Tribune, it seems appropriate to share a few Dylan-theme designs by my A.I. "bot" friend.

May you stay forever young.

That means keeping an open mind to new adventures.

As Miriam is fond of saying, "Catch you on the flip side."

Claude Angele Boni's Stuck Inside Of Mobile (with a rhapsody for Bob Dylan)

This is a follow up to my previous blog posts regarding the Dylan-inspired paintings and collages of Claude-Angèle Boni (which are linked at the bottom of this page.) I learned about Ms. Boni through Dylan archivest Bill Pagel. Ms. Boni wanted to donate. three of her pieces to his collection. 

To say the least, when I saw her work I was thoroughly impressed. 

I soon learned of this book which features full color glossy reproductions of her art and was able to acquire a copy for my own collection. The  the story of how she'd come to find inspiration through Bob's music and the artist himself is the story that accompanies these images.

The narrative, written in both English and French, was published in England in 1980 by Elizabeth Thomson. The English text could have been better edited, nevertheless, the caliber of the artwork more than makes up for this shortcoming.

For those unfamiliar with the tale, Ms. Boni had an opportunity to spend time with Bob for a drawing session. She drew his hands and feet, he drew her face. You can see the hand she drew below.

The last time she was interviewed was  by Guido Bieri for the magazine JUDAS, issue #13, April 2005, a noteworthy 20-page interview. She was also featured in an article by Alan Williams in the magazine ENDLESS ROAD, issue #6, September 1984. The pictures from the book here are pre-1980. 

I find her work to be remarkably Dali-esque, as you can see

when compared to Dali's Metamorphosis of Narcissus below.

Metamorphosis of Narcissus, Salvador Dali

Pencil drawing of Bob Dylan's hand, by Claude-Angele Boni

Related Links

French Artist Claude-Angèle Boni Explains Two Dylan-Inspired Treasures  

Fun With Collage: Claude-Angèle BONI's Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts, Versions 1 & 2

Claude-Angele BONI's It's Alright, Ma + Eden

Inspired by Saved! A Dylan-Themed Painting by Claude-Angele BONI

Salvador Dali: Over-the-Top? Out of His Mind? Or Something Else?

Earlier this summer I was reading a book of George Orwell essays titled Dickens, Dali and Others. Most American readers know Orwell for his last two books, Animal Farm and 1984, but he was also a prolific essayist. This particular volume is a collection of essays on people such as Charles Dickens, Rudyard Kipling H.G. Wells, Arthur Koestler and others. 

Dali mural in Miami.
Photo credit: Gary Firstenberg

I was especially interested in his views on Salvador Dali, not only because of my own fascination with his paintings but also because I was certain that as a contemporary, Orwell might offer a fresh perspective. In this, I was not disappointed. 

The essay on Dali was written in response to Dali's autobiography, titled Life. Orwell begins by sharing that the episodes Dali shares are a cross between implausible, outlandish and romanticized or perverse. Orwell then cites passages to illustrate what he means. "Dead faces, skulls, corpses of animals, occur fairly frequently in his pictures, and the ants which devoured the dying bat make countless reappearances."

This last reference is to an incident in which he found a dead bat covered with ants which he purportedly stuck in his mouth and chewed. "What Dali has done and what he has imagined is debatable, but in is his outlook, his character, the bedrock decency of a human being does not exist... Clearly such people are undesirable, and a society in which they can flourish has something wrong with it."

A little further, Orwell goes on to address an issue which I've obliquely made reference to in the past. "The defenders of Dali are claiming... [that] the artist is to be exempt from the moral laws that are binding on ordinary people. Just pronounce the word "Art," and everything is O.K. Rotting corpses with snails crawling over them are O.K.; kicking little girls in the head is O.K." This latter reference is to a story in which Dali gleefully kicked his little sister in the head when he was a boy.

Orwell does not deny that Dali is an exceptional talent as a draughtsman, but it has to be simultaneously acknowledged that "he is a disgusting human being."

A little further Orwell continues to expound on this theme. "He is a symptom of the world's illness. The important thing is not to denounce him as a cad who ought to be horsewhipped, or defend him as a genius who ought to be questioned, but to find out why he exhibits this particular set of aberrations."

* * * 

The above essay came to mind during a recent conversation with Tony Belmont, president/founder of the National Comedy Hall of Fame. For a decade Belmont managed the great entertainer/ventriloquist Señor Wences. As it turns out, Wences grew up in Spain and the two, he and Dali, went to art school together. The two became best friends.

I asked Mr. Belmont if he'd met Dali at that time and he made this comment initially. "I went on a seven-day cruise off of Spain with the two of them. Dali was like an explosion in a gumball factory. He gave me an etching as a gift after the cruise. Actually, I would have been happy with aspirin after a week with Dali!"

When I asked if he could elaborate, he shared the following story.

I met Dali in the spring of 1976. His best friend was Señor Wences the great ventriloquist. I was the manager for Señor Wences and his primary booking agent for over 10 years. So in the spring of 1976 Señor Wences asked me to go on a 10-day cruise with him through the Mediterranean. We would leave Barcelona, Spain, and travel around Malta and other wonderful islands in the Mediterranean. He told me we would be traveling with his close friend Salvatore Dali and he wanted me to meet Dali. 

"I thought as a promoter this may work out well, as I could possibly promote Dali at special events. I had no idea what Dali was like other than a few articles and his paintings. As a world-renowned artist I  expected a very dignified and well-mannered Spanish gentleman. Boy! Was I surprised!

The first night on the cruise was Captain's night. Like most people that have taken a cruise know, it's a special night to get dressed up. Being that I was traveling with The guest of honor (Dali) I was sitting at the Captain's Table and opposite the Captain, which is reserved for VIPs and the guest of honor. The Captain was a German who had been in the German Navy during the war and wanted everything to be precise and on the minute. At 6:55 P.M the Captain leaned forward and asked me in a low voice where was Dali? He was concerned as he needed to make the opening toast and that would be at exactly 7:00 P.M.

I replied that I didn't know because at the time I had not met Dali myself. I could tell the Captain was not pleased with this situation. But just as the Captain was about to start the toast at 7:00 P.M. the two large french doors that open into the banquet room that everyone could see suddenly flew open. The Captain sat back down and everyone in the room was silent, and maybe even in shock. Standing at the top of the short staircase was Dali surrounded by two young men. They were all dressed in tuxedoes, although Dali was wearing a top hat and his tux had tails. He had a bright red ascot ruffled white shirt, held a silver walking stick and ~~~~~ no pants! Instead, he had pretty red silk boxer shorts with the word Dali on them. 

The Captain gasped, turned to me and said, "He has no pants!" 

Dali calmly walked to the table and said, "Let's eat!" 

From that point on it was all downhill~~~!

The evening got crazier after he sat down but I ran out of time. I liked him but thought he wasn't carrying all his groceries in one bag. I believe after being with him closely for over a week that it was 50% acting for attention, to promote his image, and the other 50% really him!

* * * 

Related Links

Dali: Madman or Genius?

Dali Steps Out

The Dali Museum: More Striking Than Ever

Dali's St. John of the Cross Is On the Move

Tech Tuesday: Dali Is Back

A Visit with Tony Belmont of the National Comedy Hall of Fame

Videos of Señor Wences on YouTube

Dylan Weighs In on the Disease of Conceit

There’s a whole lot of people suffering tonight
From the disease of conceit
Whole lot of people struggling tonight
From the disease of conceit
Comes right down the highway
Straight down the line
Rips into your senses
Through your body and your mind
Nothing about it that’s sweet
The disease of conceit

Conceit is a word we don't hear used that much anymore. We say things like, "He's full of himself," or "He's got a big head." We also hear quite a bit about narcissism, frequently in the context of dating advice. "Five Signs to Help You Spot Narcissistic Behavior" and "11 Signs that You're Dating a Narcissist" are on the first page when I Google this.

The word narcissism comes from the Greek tale of Narcissus who fell in love with his reflection in a pond. Dylan incorporated this tale into the last verse of "License to Kill" (Infidels):

Now he worships at an altar of a stagnant pool
And when he sees his reflection, he’s fulfilled
Oh, man is opposed to fair play
He wants it all and he wants it his way

Narcissus by Caravaggio

Dylan's imagery hit me like a zap from a 220 volt copper wire the first time I heard it in 1983. What is it about our nature that inclines us to self-deceit and an overweening sense of self-importance?

The opening line of the song sets the stage: "Man thinks 'cause he rules the world he can do with it as he please..." 

Another word that can be used interchangeably with conceit is arrogance. Psychologist Karen Horney (Freud's first female student) in her book Our Inner Conflicts (A Constructive Theory of Neurosis) asserts that the greater the variance between our idealized self-image and our real self, the more amplified our neurotic tendencies. She writes:

"Precisely to the extent that the image is unrealistic, it tends to make the person arrogant, in the original meaning of the word; for arrogance, though used synonymously was superciliousness, means to arrogate to oneself qualities that one does not have, or that one has potentially but not factually."
--Our Inner Conflicts, p. 97

What Dr. Horney goes on to say is that our self-inflation is not something we do consciously. That is, arrogant people are unaware of how divergent their real behavior is from their idealized version of themselves. This is what makes it so tragic and troubling.

Dylan's "Disease of Conceit" breaks it down in some interesting ways. The first stanzas describe the results of conceit. People are hurt. It causes heartbreak. People are crying, and even dying because of it. "There's nothing about it that's sweet, the disease of conceit." 

Then comes the bridge in which he describes conceit as something of a mystery. (Life has many mysteries, doesn't it?)

Conceit is a disease
That the doctors got no cure
They’ve done a lot of research on it
But what it is, they’re still not sure

The song's last stanza is a reminder that we are but dust, a warning to beware of "delusions of grandeur" because ultimately we all await the very same fate. 

There’s a whole lot of people in trouble tonight
From the disease of conceit
Whole lot of people seeing double tonight
From the disease of conceit
Give ya delusions of grandeur And a evil eye
Give you the idea that
You’re too good to die
Then they bury you from your head to your feet
From the disease of conceit 

* * * 

In 1937 Salvador Dali produced a painting that he titled The Metamorphosis of Narcissus. If you Google the word Narcissus and click on images, most of the images will be of a yellow flower called the Narcissus, though more commonly called the daffodil today. 

The Metamorphosis of Narcissus (Salvador Dali) Tate Museum
© Salvador Dali, Gala-Salvador Dali Foundation/DACS, London 2020

Though Dylan's "Disease of Conceit" ends with a rather bleak prognosis (buried from your head to your feet), there's a seed thought in the tale of Narcissus which Dali captures in his painting (currently on display at the Tate Museum in London). Here is a portion of the text that accompanies this image:

Narcissus was a youth of great beauty who loved only himself and broke the hearts of many lovers. The gods punished him by letting him see his own reflection in a pool. He fell in love with it, but discovered he could not embrace it and died of frustration. Relenting, the gods immortalized him as the narcissus (daffodil) flower.

Read the full Tate account here.

The Disciple
Oscar Wilde's ironic twist on the myth of Narcissus

When Narcissus died, the pool of his pleasure changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, and the Oreads came weeping through the woodland that they might sing to the pool and give it comfort.

And when they saw that the pool had changed from a cup of sweet waters into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses of their hair, and cried to the pool, and said: "We do not wonder that you should mourn in this manner for Narcissus, so beautiful was he."

"But was Narcissus beautiful?" said the pool

"Who should know better than you?" answered the Oreads. "Us did he ever pass by, but you he sought for, and would lie on your banks and look down at you, and in the mirror of your waters he would mirror his own beauty."

And the pool answered: "But I loved Narcissus because, as he lay on my banks and looked down at me, in the mirror of his eyes I saw my own beauty mirrored."

Dylan's "Times Are A-Changing" Vs. "Things Have Changed"--Picasso's Guernica Meets Dali's Hallucinogenic Toreador

One of the Dylan albums I have been listening to a lot lately is his Victoria's Secret Exclusive Lovesick. This 2004 release is a collection of nine great songs spanning the arc of his career. The playlist includes She Belongs to Me, Don't Think Twice,  To Ramona, Boots of Spanish Leather and It's All Over Now, Baby Blue from the first decade of his career. Then closes out with four late career songs from Time Out of Mind to Love & Theft.  "Things Have Changed" is the second to last track and I find myself repeating it each time I play this Lovesick CD.  As a result, the song, its lyrics and the way he delivers those lyrics has really gotten into my head.

As for the lyrics, this really is something of an unusual, even bizarre, song on one level. In a few minutes I will compare it to Salvador's Dali's Hallucinogenic Toreador. Like much of Dali's surrealistic painting, it's also infectious. And when contrasted with "The Times They Are A-Changin'" certain features especially stand out. In this case I will contrast Toreador with Picasso's explosive Guernica.

There are few long-time Dylan fans unfamiliar with this anthem of the Sixties and his third album wearing the same name.

Come gather ’round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’

Each verse has a singular aim, the first verse setting the trajectory. "Listen up. You see what's happening. It's time to act."

The second verse is directed to writers and critics. "This is a unique time in history. Pay attention."

Verse three is directed to our political leaders. Each line in the stanza serves that end. "Don't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall."

Verse four speaks to the mothers and fathers in our land and the widening generation gap.

Finally, we return to the overarching message. Things are changing, with the very last line echoing a passage from the Bible (Matthew 20:16), as if the truths here were a prophetic utterance from on high.

THINGS HAVE CHANGED
When dissecting "Things Have Changed," Dylan's Oscar-winning contribution to The Wonder Boys, we find a song both similar and dissimilar. The similarity comes in the structure. We get a batch of words, with lines that rhyme, followed by the recurring theme from which the title is extracted. "I used to care, but things have changed."

Whereas with "Times Are A-Changin'" each verse is crystal clear as regards its meaning, "Things Have Changed" is the very definition of ambiguity.

What's more, and this is what has struck me about the song, the lines are interchangeable, and actually have no relationship to one another except inasmuch as they are sung in conjunction with one another.  Watch this.

A worried man with a worried mind
No one in front of me and nothing behind
There’s a woman on my lap and she’s drinking champagne
Got white skin, got assassin’s eyes
I’m looking up into the sapphire-tinted skies
I’m well dressed, waiting on the last train

Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose
Any minute now I’m expecting all hell to break loose

Each of the images is specific, but very few lines are actually related to one another, other than the woman in line three and the suggestion that she's got white skin and assassin's eyes. But even that is only implied. What if he were referring to himself with white skin and assassin's eyes, since the next line is he himself looking into sapphire-tinted skies?

If this is a description of a scene, are they sitting outside. Where? At a train station?

The gallows is a pretty specific image, too, but can plainly be a metaphor. And the statement that any minute all hell could break loose is punchy, captures a sense we've all had at one time or another, but what is happening?

The elements are very specific, but the overall meaning is completely ambiguous. You could change multiple sentences anywhere along the way and not change anything. For example, in the second verse he sings:

Gonna take dancing lessons, do the jitterbug rag
Ain’t no shortcuts, gonna dress in drag
Only a fool in here would think he's got anything to prove

But you can insert anything for some of these lines and it would change nothing. The lines in maroon are my inventions. (Not saying these are good lines, just that I don't think they change the meaning of the song.)

Gonna walk through a storm, gonna fill my bag
I've never been afraid to kiss a hag
Only a fool in here would think he’s got anything to prove

Stick my fingers down my throat, make myself gag
Clean up the dishes with a greasy rag
Only a fool in here would think he’s got anything to prove

I mean it seems almost anything would work because the verses aren't focused on saying anything. But whoa, the way he sings it still floors you.

A lot of these lines could have been borrowed from films he was watching or books he's been reading. That is part of Scott Warmuth's schtick. This Rolling Stone article points to the line "Don't get up, gentlemen, I'm only passing through" as having originally come from the mouth of Vivien Leigh in Streetcar Named Desire.

This is not to suggest the song doesn't make connections with listeners. In point of fact, it continually makes connections, but in a more convoluted way than many of his other songs. The third verse has a set of truisms that connect with the listener, but aren't necessary to connected to each other, except they do make a picture, a Hallucinogenic Toreador.

I’ve been walking forty miles of bad road .    Possibly True
If the Bible is right, the world will explode .    Sort of True
I’ve been trying to get as far away from myself as I can .   Possibly True
Some things are too hot to touch .   True
The human mind can only stand so much .   True
You can’t win with a losing hand .    Possibly True

Then he says he feels like falling in love with the first woman he meets, and putting her in that wheelbarrow to roll her down the street. It's an image that's easy to picture, but where does it go? It affirms the refrain for sure. People are crazy and times are strange.

GUERNICA

Guernica. Click to enlarge.

If you've ever seen Picasso's Guernica in real life, it's power is difficult to dismiss. A massive painting written in response to the bombing of a Basque town of the same name during the Spanish Civil War. Like the cover of album The Times They Are A-Changin', Guernica is painted in black, white and greys. And like the song, every element contributes to show the horror of this incident which has become itself a metaphor for modern war in which civilians are the ones who suffer. (cf. The Cold War's Killing Fields)

It was also painted at a significant moment in time. Ultimately a reproduction of this was created for the United Nations. War is a horror, it says.

Dylan's song was likewise "painted" during a significant moment in time. It spoke of an upheaval taking place that would rock the nation. An despite it's reference to a moment in time, it continues to be relevant in its timeless way, the same as so many of Dylan's prophetic songs, and Picasso's Guernica.

THE HALLUCINOGENIC TOREADOR

"The Hallucinogenic Toreador"

Dali's striking Toreador stands 15 feet high and can be seen at the Dali Museum in St. Augustine. It's absolutely stunning in person, like most of his work. And like many of his paintings, the picture is comprised of optical illusions. In this case, it's a painting of a pair of Venus de Milo statues, which when viewed in an alternative manner become re-assembled as the image of a bullfighter.

Dali combines a number of other elements to produce the effect, including bees, dots of color, shadows. And in the upper left we see Gala, his wife and muse, who is a feature of many Dali paintings.

When all is said and done, you can lose yourself in the elements or come away with the bigger--and in real life it is a much bigger--picture. And like Dylan's Things Have Changed, it makes an impression.

It's noteworthy that neither Dali nor Dylan explained their work and let their works speak for themselves. As a result, critics have endlessly dissected and analyzed the symbols and images in both of their creative contributions.

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Here's another example of what I'm saying from the song's last verse. Dylan sings:

Mr. Jinx and Miss Lucy, they jumped in the lake
I’m not that eager to make a mistake

Notice that he doesn't link these two, yet they stand side by side. He could have written, "I'm not that eager to make that mistake" or "I'm not that eager to make their mistake." Instead, he just throws in a line that rhymes with lake, so he could have just as easily said, "I'm just diggin' through the fridge looking for something to bake." Or "I'm finished with this garden, gonna hang up my rake." Or "I'm a little too tired to be on the make."

Whatever line you throw down changes nothing because when you finish the refrain it still rings true.

People are crazy, times are strange
I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range
I used to care, but things have changed

What do you think?

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RELATED LINKS
Picasso's Guernica
Picasso's Guernica Revisited
Dali's The Hallucinogenic Toreador
Dylan and 50 Years of Change
Lyrics: Things Have Changed