It’s been over four months since I last wrote here. To tell the truth, it’s been four months since I wrote anything really (or so it seems). But as all new years do allow, I can start fresh, forgive my slow-moving hands and start writing and sharing again.
It isn’t that I simply had nothing to write about - in fact, quite the opposite. I have been overwhelmed with content. I needed time to process it all, turning it over like a new object, examining its textures, sounds.
Universe, you gave me such wonderful gifts these past few months. How do I ever thank you?
The new Hudson Gallery Guide I designed for the 14 Warren Street galleries arrived today. Everything was wonderful till I counted and realized there were only THIRTEEN listed. Somehow, in some daze, I forgot Tom Swope’s gallery. (I also have, like 18 versions of this on my computer, I know it was listed on at least one of them…)
I’m a moron. Please go visit Tom’s cool gallery so I don’t feel like such an ass.
I think, whenever something goes wrong like this, minor or major, I’m playing this video:
That dude makes any bad day, any mistake, any worry, just melt away…….
I hope to see this man perform in New York someday (soon hopefully) - Will happily invite him here to Hudson any day. I feel uplifted/excited/inspired just from watching this wonderful clip.
After viewing a few of the videos of Dub FX out on the streets beating his heart out, and watching those who stopped to listen, those who passed on by in the background, I was reminded of this Washington Post article about street musicians. It is a long read, but well worth it. The article is about Joshua Bell, a well known classical violinist, who was asked to perform incognito in a metro station during rush hour, as a social experiment about perception and priorities: would passersby stop and recognize what they were hearing?
Sadly, the article points out that he was not recognized. No applause. A few people, out of thousands who poured in an out of the station during those 45 minutes, stopped to listen.
Now, I don’t really believe that most people would recognize Joshua Bell (I doubt that I would have), BUT, I don’t think that is the crux of the larger argument that article attempts to make, which is: Do we stop to enjoy ourselves and the sometimes amazingly beautiful things that surround us.
(and there are plenty of amazingly beautiful things)
I am an enthusiastic lover/supporter/producer of public art programs. live music. sculpture. multimedia projects, you name it - anything which surprises, engages, enriches and excites. Things that catch me off guard and leave me smiling.
May there be more street artists, more murals, more movies in the park, more outdoor events, more reasons to step outside, stay outside - more chances to listen, watch, learn and be inspired.
Pay attention folks - the world is outside playing just for you.
This photo was taken at the beginning of our trip on Sunday - At this point in the game (10am), I had managed to a.) lose my keys and b.) miss 1 train. Probably a sign of things to come….
I am, admittedly, a not-so-wonderful traveling companion. In all likelihood, my friend Bill will never be traveling with me again. During our trip to Jones Beach I managed to make us miss a total of 4 trains.
My time management skills need some serious work.
I just like meandering too much….no time constraints, no deadlines, no expectations. Especially on trips to the city or long car rides - not knowing what is around the corner, and that at any point you can change your mind, change direction, stay longer, leave earlier….
During the concert Sunday evening, “I Do Not Want This” played….and well, those lyrics have been stuck in my head ever since
I DID manage to sneak away, if only for a day (ok, two) - Went with my friend Bill to see NIN and Jane’s Addiction play Jones Beach. Incredible concert. Word to the wise: BRING A WINTER JACKET when you see a show at that place. I froze my ass off….
That said, it was still a great event. Worth every penny and shiver.
(photos by Bill. my camera sucks, I need a better one)
Out on the road I met a butterfly
She had a fantastic wingspan, almost two feet wide
She’d recently been injured and she could not fly
So she asked me if she could bum a ride
In the old shell of her chrysalis she carried her things
She tossed it in the back and stretched her beautiful wings
She sat there next to me with her front legs on the dashboard
Those wings folded behind her and her little head cocked forward
She told me her story, a price was on her head
This bastard entomologist pursued her live or dead
He’d vowed to hunt her down as there was a large reward
He’d captured her and drugged her and nailed her to a board
Her escape was narrow, she’d torn through her own wing
She saw my look of horror and she started to sing
“I’m going to a no man’s land Because men and violence are intertwined”
Well, I see, I said.
But not all men are violent
I’m not a violent man myself
She laughed and said try not to get too attached to me
‘Cause soon I will be well and I will fly away from thee
One night when we had stopped into a diner for a meal
She laughed and laughed about the plastic flowers on the tables
I started seeing through her eyes the passing desert scenery
She watched the birds and tumbleweeds
With fondness and with envy
We came across some sad road kill, a beautiful coyote
She sighed her butterfly sigh and once again sang softly:
“I’m going to a no man’s land Because men and violence are intertwined”
Next morning as I came out of a Texaco station,
I saw she wasn’t at the car, and I figured she had run
Then I heard her high squeal and I heard his low laughter
“You’ll never out run me” he said, “you are the girl I’m after.”
I chased down the sound to the side of the station,
She was cornered between the wall and a soda machine
I moved as if by instinct, I did it without thought
I clipped him and I kicked him
And I grabbed him ’round the throat
I pinned him to the wall and his eyes were bulging wide
I said if there’s a next time I will see YOU crucified
With this I released him and he crumpled to the ground
The butterfly was gone again when I turned around
But then her little song drew our attention to the sky
Though with a certain lack of grace she had begun to fly
That was the last I saw of her, she never said goodbye
She just flapped off and disappeared
While singing with a sigh
“I’m going to a no man’s land Because men and violence are intertwined”
- Lyrics by Thomas Truax
This song is incredible. I want to buy every single one of his albums. (This track is off of Audio Addiction, which I can’t seem to find for sale any longer).
Truax has a brand new album based on songs from David Lynch films….I am ordering it this week.
Things I like
:: :: :: old books dramatic pauses fancy dresses mid 19th c. design photography secret rooms beautiful words video + film mix cds :: :: ::
welcome to a collection of my obsessions
