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instrument 6

2011-11-14T14:54:00.000-08:00

Instrument 6 has a variety of uses. It begins as an explanation of how materials are distributed [voluntarily and involuntarily] in space. Instrument 6 can be used for locating points on the grid, or for intuitively negotiating a civic infrastructure. Aside from being isotropic [with only a few exceptions, every element is mirrored with opposing compositional sameness either formally or theoretically], this tessellation of complementary hexagonal symmetry is unique because: [1] It satisfies requirements for tiling ad-infinitum, without leaving a remainder; [2] It operates as a faceted Vessica Pisces [in the areas between vertices] which, as we all know, gives way to other orders and spacial sequences such as the irrational powers of 5. In this way, Instrument 6 becomes a useful tool for mapping the crystalline plane and for discerning ideal modes of material economy.

If viewed as a 2D perspective sculpture: By virtue of doubling the 6 points of a hexagon, we inherit our first abundant number - 12 [the factors of 12 add to equal more than 12: 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 6 = 16 > 12], which is here portraying our solar hero [centered at the top Golden Section], as it appears at dawn through fluted columns, corridors or a network of Byzantine arches. The blue glass, moves at deep, 60-degree angles throughout the mosaic [ a suggestion: the structure of water is basically icosahedral - a form among forms, unique in its uprights - a looking glass or lattice work of life - so endowed with design and a mirror unto its environment: water keeps a log or record of the dynamic action around it - a memory that is not static but evolves and is translated into properties that characterize its distinctive course or experience ] and here serves as the horizon line or vanishing-point for viewers. In this way, Instrument 6 becomes useful as mandala, wherein the eye finds a center in sight, and observing the thing becomes an exercise in shucking-off anything that is not part of the captive visual experience.

materials: tumbled natural stone, granite, ceramic, copper, glass and poplar
25.25" x 25.25"

the medium intelligence

2011-11-02T14:46:00.000-07:00

If you look at a linear, cross-section of human DNA, you will see something very different from what you see here. [ [ [ No matter ] ] ] This is what you will, however, observe in both: DECAGONS!/!/! Decagons are cool because they have represented base-10 systems [ our counting system; the decimal system; Pythagoras' TETRAKTYS; etc.. ] and unified field theories since God's nap which began on day 7. More: there are 10 turns in every full rotation of the double helix in our magic blood, or: 2 spiraling pentagons that operate like vortex engines in space. Specifically our space >> which is wholly governed by orbiting bodies whose size + distance from each other are in Golden Proportion, which is to say, that their relationships satisfy our ratio requirements for PHI. I realize, by this time, that everyone must be quite tired of hearing me talk about PHI [ your yawn - a muse that so fueled my making ], so here is your lengthy PHI lecture - re imagined in mosaic and translated into an archival earthwork, as the image of X or Y is always more beautiful than the rigorous smack that describes it.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
∆∆∆ Materials ∆∆∆ include stone, copper, granite, jasper & ceramic etc.. // Dimensions = 3ft squared // MADE IN THE USA, yo

HOUSE SHOW OCTOBER 20

2011-10-19T10:50:00.000-07:00

HOLY SMOKES this is gonna be a fun show.. Looks like the Hermit Thrushes have added a few new players to their spastic post-rawk roster.. Sam, Yanni: i trust you are gonna give us an evening of proper neighbor complaints [ as you may have noticed: when i get the itch to leave a particular residence, i invite your rag-tag retirement shuttle bus of misfits to play my living room so that eviction is imminent!! ] as Tremont, oh Tremont, you are so silent in your streets, its time to ruffle your tree-lined feathers once again!! For a totally decent and fair review of our South Philly friends, read this article from Magnet Magazine.

Opening the show is Cody Ross' ABLE YOUTH, a performance guaranteed to confuse and scare you into understanding for the first time >> that you actually have a very little idea concerning the boundaries of pop music and specifically this: there are more than a few aliens living right here under your nose in the North of Texas that you call home. Cody's musical direction is influenced by ratio-masters like Schoenberg, anxiety-producers like 90's Christian R&B, Mozambiquean dog-calls, and the obscure cantos of Ezra Pound. There is nobody on this mid-sized, bluish-green planet like Mr. Cody Ross, and hopefully there never will be again...

Also on the bill is a newish outfit of Dallas art-rockers, Monsters & Animals. The band includes former members of Back Flap, Scarily Terrible, The Freak Out, George Quartz + many many more 1-off entourages that you have probably never heard of. If you can imagine a team of perverted sculptors, real-estate agents, drunk open-mic hosts and American Apparelers making glorious mistakes together, then that is ROUGHLY what you can expect.

Here is more relevant content: Thursday October 20 // 5320 Tremont // Doors @ 7pm // Music from 8pm - 11pm // BYOB // Recycle please + respect the house // <3 <3

heptaform

2011-07-25T00:29:00.000-07:00

7 has always been an elusive numbre. sacred and aloof like a coy mistress, 7 has loads of potential as it rests neatly between six perfect circles- representing our spacial options: four directions, Up and Down. but don't be deceived: 7 is totally alone, totally prime, and otherwise considered to be an untouchable numeric virgin. more: 7's determine how we experience time, and point to the peculiar relationship that we have with our lunar muse. 7 is an ocean. source and destination. "LAW APPLIES CONSISTENTLY TO THE MOLECULE, NOT TO THE OCEAN, UNPROCESSED, UNORIENTED IT FLOATS IN.. THAT FLOATS IN IT." (A.R. Ammons) materials >> jasper, stone, poplar, charcoal grout.

Penta con deca

2011-07-23T10:48:00.000-07:00

making >> "these are really the thoughts of all men in all ages and lands, they are not original with me; if they are not yours as much as mine they are nothing, or next to nothing; if they are not the riddle and the untying of the riddle they are nothing". arranged in exacting golden proportions: a | b = (a+b) | a >> a uniquely reciprocal relationship between two unequal parts of a whole, in which the small part stands in the same proportion to the large part as the large part stands to the whole. notice PHIVE growing from the middle material and drawing consciousness from its root, the iscosceles triangle - natures secret art project. notice references to Hellenistic perfection in the tetractys at the corners. materials include stone, copper, poplar, red oak, ceramic tile, thin set mortar and glass. dimensions >> 19" x 23" MADE IN AMERICA

crude #s

2011-07-21T11:45:00.000-07:00

Admittedly: early 8-bit nintendo designs have probably influenced construction here + weird, aesthete friends o' mine have described it as a sort of primitive/future control panel or alien conjurer of the five elements haha. One day, lunatic bards will interpret these forms and find a common ancestor in the clay. Mosaic components: copper, stone, granite, gypsum crystal, ceramic, red oak, charcoal grout. Dimensions ::: approx 14" square. IT EXISTS!!!

Oak Cliff DIY

2011-05-12T11:15:00.000-07:00

this is essentially a house show in Oak Cliff. El Sibil (122 e. 5th street) is a new diy art space near Founders Park in OC. here is a map. >>> this show features another knot of rag-tag instrumentalists from south Philly, who play sometimes low and sometimes loud; fast >> slow; expansive at times and dense at others. they like booze but not bars; parties but not giggle parties. they also like Texas. part of a much larger family of shape-shifting art-borgs, under the Edible Onion banner in Philly, Br’er is primarily a recording project for Philadelphia native Benjamin Schurr, employing a large host of musicians in the area to create his dense experimental pop compositions. Formed originally as a means to complete several unfinished songs Benjamin recorded for another project, Br’er quickly became its own entity after several manic recording sessions with borrowed equipment, broken keyboards and other pieces of musical trash lying around. “Of Shemales and Kissaboos,” the first Br’er album was recorded in a period right after Benjamin got off of being on medicine and was homeless. success?

also on the bill, the Polyglottal Handclaps is the newer project of David Karsten Daniels (Fat Cat Records), who has toured extensively with Mice Parade, Nina Nastasia, and Tom Brosseau, but is now living in Dallas, making a different brand of experi-pop. Two drummers, live sampling, lots of singing. finally, Analog Rebellion is the new Dallas low-fi darling with moments of intense electronica, timely changes and very catchy vox. gritty, dark, and soulful.. but how?

doors open 'round 7pm. bands @ 8pm, 9pm, and 10pm. there will probably be a bar with tender, recommended donation >>> 5 bucks dudes

MAY YANTRA OR 22/7

2011-05-04T11:58:00.000-07:00

having become so accustomed to approximating π, and so saying 3, another handy measure of our favorite ratio (diameter of a circle to its circumference) is simply 22/7, which hits closer than prime 3 or sheer guesswork, combined: 3.142857143.. /// still we have this (problem of) movement of the spheres which keeps PI from being wholly observed in static time and so makes knaves of us all, keeping the square of a circle still at large!! i suppose the above yantra deals with this problem only by mimicking the distributive powers of 3, which naturally show up in 4,6,9,10,12,15 and other tetrahedral numbers. equilateral triangles are very useful sculpting forms, as they can be arranged to evenly tile a plane or inscribed upon by smaller ET's ad infinitum. many of the same recycled materials are used in this yantra, which hinges on rational points and finds a very casual ordering for the sake of such a fair muse: discrete geometry.

powers of 3

2011-04-15T12:05:00.001-07:00

the above Yantra form was influenced by Tantric methods of viewing geometry as the fertile ground upon which thinking man observes himself within his element. this is also a somewhat classic platonic idea, naturally, as geometry (in the Quadrivium) was designed to be considered side-by-side music, cosmology and the study of number. my materials include handcarved poplar, jasper hex, found stones, found ceramic tiles, plexi glass and halogen light. powers of 3 are fun and easy to work with because of the predictive nature of her derivatives.

LAKE LAKE LAKE!!!

2011-04-12T15:39:00.000-07:00

this is the third time that LAKE has graced our DIY doors with thier family island musics. having endured a world without electricity and traditional medicines, they return to Texas with rumors from the outer districts, where experience and clocks have little commerce and beer is best kept cold in the ground. let's put it like this: eccentric, shoegazey tunes with loads of harmonies, changes and solos. toss in some occasional funk, homemade bells and very innocent psychadelia, just to keep thangs piqued. not to be missed!!

im not sure who's making these stop animation vids for LAKE, but they're super far-out and im liking the heck out of 'em, disoriented, punk-ironic and sentimental as they are...
supporting their new record, Alright You Restless (Knitting Factory Records), AGES AND AGES are a 7-piece from Portland, Oregon. ALL MUSIC had this to say about them: "Armed with dense, tent revival vocal harmonies and capturing a sense of exuberance and earnestness that has the potential to disarm even the most cynical listeners. Alright You Restless is an exercise in balance, maintaining enough ebullience to be engaging and uplifting without feeling theatrical or manic. This is a line that AgesandAges walk artfully, making their debut album one that’ll leave fans hungry for a follow-up."

providing local support for the show, UNCONSCIOUS COLLECTIVE is the latest and most-barbaric sonic effort by brothers Stephan and Aaron Gonzalez, who have done more for Dallas' music-scene than fm radiozz. joined by Greg Prickett on guitar, this 3-piece is primitive, experimental, noisy and completely painted from head-to-toe with mud, ex-gf make-up and found smearables. yep.

a prime united state

2011-03-27T12:38:00.000-07:00

i don't know why << the orders >> have become so primitive lately. from nearly every angle, my friends have taken on an ancient logic in their designs and in their design's designs. what is the intentional error (or bead) called that tapestry-weavers would include in their work to suggest that only god could create a perfect pattern? in any case, the above mosaic does not include those intentional errors. my errors are not intentional - they are inadvertently classical, or perfectly erroneous, which is a contradiction that seems most agreeable. see?

we are all sane here

2011-03-25T14:39:00.000-07:00

the above mosaics no longer exist in real space. they arrived for just a moment, only to return into the void that defined them before their becoming. someone with a sense of humor once said that "life is only a brief time between very long periods of not existing." all that is, is hindsight. it shouldn't be depressing - the past is very creative.. rewrite the hell out of it - you wouldn't be the first. there are people who say that the present moment cannot be proven to exist, because it is always in perpetual flux. one understands that. it's esoteric as hell, but one understands it. one would rather think along these terminals: the elasticity and insatiable present- where verb, noun or pronoun and direct objects converge in an infinite tout de suite!

that said, one takes (if one takes anything at all) pattern from father and matrix from mother. the ordering principles are not fixed, nor are they totally random. one draws from the pool of potential forms, and by virtue of x, y, time and other variables such as gravity and stresses, and shapes something resembling pater (Greek: father) and mater (Greek: mother, medium) that is self-organizing and self-limiting. there's proof everywhere, but where?

DIY house show ||| 5320 tremont

2011-03-09T13:12:00.000-08:00

voila || another East Dallas house show >> supporting bands touring through N Tex en-route to SXSW. this showing feautures the enigmatic/sublime musical powers of Pat Gregoire - prime number and pivot for PAT JORDACHE (formerly of Canada's Sister Suvi), a fearless five-part-fist from Montreal, who just recently produced a surprisingly original record: with lo-fi-leanings and psychadelia through the center, Pat G. has outdone himself (most un-canny bass) by coordinating this thing in itself: FUTURE SONGS (Constellation Records) is a textured, opaque venture into sonic unknowns, capable of sweeping listeners away into very fine ethers - advert - i highly recommend it! also on the bill: Melting Season, is the solo-project of Bruce Blay, the digital engineering component of Denton's Sleep Whale (formerly MOM), who will be delivering a gorgeous brand of experimentasia (new word!) and stringed kaleidoscopia (new word again!) to friends and complete strangers, alike, in my living room on Tuesday, March 15. Finally, i am very happy to announce our headliners, Sir Name & the Janes a very energetic and highly entertaining, rock n rolling four-piece from Dallas, who are not only excellent players but excellent people (teaching math by day and schooling posers by night), the Janes will make you rethink your hobbies, plans, etc. this show starts @ 7pm and hopefully ends around midnight without " quotes " from the neighbors. come early!

a jar in tennessee?

2011-03-03T13:03:00.000-08:00

for stevens:
i placed a vessel, round upon a square and square upon a column - with height, hovering above the orders of a six-sided polygon. a wilderness was nowhere found outside the vessel. what wilderness once grew there, that within a souvenir of space it found reason for abandon? there is something, even, within the balanced nautilus, that desires a more harmonic locus. it was born of its limitations. the shell was gray and bare. it did not give of infinity, but was the image of it - like nothing else in the hexagon.

<<< HOUSE X HOUSE SHOW >>>

2011-02-28T14:43:00.000-08:00

this is the 3rd anniversary of our unofficial SXSW house show, which takes place on Friday March 18 || at 3100 King Street, in Austin Texas. I wanted to name the show TEXA-GONS, but Jame was right: Occam's Razor is probably easier to remember. being an all-day affair, this showcase happens in two parts: THE EARLY SHOW (all-ages welcome + folk + rawk + popular music) which begins at 2pm; and THE LATE SHOW (21+ welcome for experimental + electronic + psychedelia) which begins approximately at dusk and ends when Jennifer Morris says "evan, get rid of those oblivion-seeking strangers dancing in my kitchen." thanks to Zico Coconut Water for sponsoring our show again! Your baby coconuts rule.

|||<< links + set-times >>|||

Dovekins (Denver) >> 2pm
Paleo (Cedar Rapids) >> 3pm
Hermit Thrushes (Philadelphia) >> 4pm
Matthew and the Arrogant Sea (Denton) >> 5pm
George Quartz (Dallas) >> 6pm
Sorne (Austin) >> 7pm
Dear Human (Denton) >> 8pm
Pat Jordache (Brooklyn) >> 9pm
Sextape (Denton) >> 10pm
Florene (Denton) >> 11pm
Dharma (Moon) >> Mid

eadem mutata resurgo

2011-02-22T22:12:00.001-08:00

>>though changed, it rises the same<< with more modeled poplar, expressing laws of rational indices or coefficients: A SYSTEM (EVEN A UNIVERSE) PASSES CONSTANTLY FROM ITS LEAST PROBABLY TO ITS MOST PROBABLE STATES ||| THE CONFIGURATION OF MAXIMUM PROBABILITY BEING AT THE SAME TIME THAT OF MAXIMUM ENTROPY. KNOWING: these tesselations become more natural the closer my component angles come to approximating 60-degrees. THINKING: with regular partitions of space ||| equilateral triangles, rhomboids, hexagons and irregular pentagons ||| lattices of this variety (which appear only in inorganic systems) remind me Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities, wherein a fictional dialogue between Marco Polo and Kublai Khan leads to such a statement: I know that my empire is made of the stuff of crystals, its molecules arranged in a perfect pattern. Amid the surge of the elements, a splendid hard diamond takes shape, an immense, faceted, transparent mountain... when you know at last the residue of unhappiness for which no precious stone can compensate, you will be able to calculate the exact number of carats toward which that final diamond must strive.. ||| WORKING: this mosaic felt very much like civic planning with Hamilton's Principle in mind >> that is: "to produce a state of equilibrium, of minimum potential energy, with balanced stresses and equipartition of surface energy, all obtained with the greatest economy (or smallest production) of real (resisting) work." Matila Ghyka

strange attractor // 1

2011-02-18T09:28:00.000-08:00

in this arrangement: fractal + self-similarity / and yet changing. with regular as well as non-periodic changes: changes in tone and value. changes in form: now stressing the angle / now stressing the beam. now an ordered system // now the flurry of strange attractors. at once the prolific constructivist and mighty devourer. at once the hybrid element when >made< + >found< lie together on the high table of REASON and the textured plane of ACTUAL. "2" and "3" in accord (5 born of mute, dumb necessity).

gnomon

2011-02-15T21:56:00.000-08:00

very rarely are pentagonal and hexagonal symmetries seen mixing at the same social - almost never in nature and only sometimes in art. they occur together [formally] in plato's darling solid, the icosahedron, which is found //flexing// at the atomic corners of H2O, or, what men of science will >> de temps en temps<< call liquid crystal. fun stuff, eh? you can, however, observe both polygonal arrangements here, carved from new england poplar.

red-penta-penrose

2011-02-14T12:42:00.000-08:00

this instillation began with a bronze dodecahedron at the center and grew out // from that ground at a parabolic curve using ///PENROSE\\\ harmonies and material distributions that approximate ϕ, or the mean/extreme ration 1|.618. kids do this kind of shit naturally in the sand at beaches or when designing forts in the woods. i would very much like to "get-back-to" that sort of unconscious logic without laboring over fractal geometry manuals and tedious math proofs, but that can be fun too.

five-fold-symmetry

2011-02-12T12:04:00.000-08:00

when studying five-fold-symmetries in nature, one need not look too far for proofs of its ubiquity, no further even, than one's free hand. as it happens, the powers of penta-form are observable in all organic systems that express gnomonic growth, or, growth from the inside-out. think of how blood vessels split, branching into two vessels, or how our primate bodies synthesize foods into energy. this is called growth by intussusception. the basic guiding principle at work here operates according to a law of proportion, whereby organisms distribute themselves in space irrationally - that is, by the √5. i designed the above mosaic with this principle in mind. i had a few other things in mind as well, but those items needn't an explanation.

febru-rhombique

2011-02-10T19:45:00.000-08:00

another instillation using glass, hand-carved poplar, plexi-glass, halogen light and, of course, a tidy blend of february air with the hallowed geo rhombus. when i observe these forms at micro: tiny, geared mirrors emerge from the scaffold; though in eventual macro summary, the peculiar events in light become generalized (and what particle can resist the temptation to fall within the mean/extreme?), so prevails the charming entropics.

january phylacterie

2011-02-08T10:33:00.000-08:00

this was the first entry into a sculptural journal that i have been keeping since the new year. the formal arrangements of stone, ceramic tile, cedar and vinyl were inspired by hellenistic phylacteries or charms that greek defenders of a reason would flash in battle. the poetry of allen grossman also served as muse here: come, let us stop this talking / let us draw the black ship down to the divine sea and set the purple sail to the death winds of the south and empty out of the burden of our singing, you and i... after the wind stops, the sound of the wind.

snow flag

2011-02-07T16:27:00.000-08:00

one can assemble something of this sort on snow days, with the help of wood, ceramics, acrylic paints, halogen light, space, electricity, isolation, time, found rocks and 20mg of adderoll. this is part 3 in a series of secret flags and maps that i am working on. "lenador, corta me la sombra".

knowledge upon my heart

2011-02-07T15:41:00.000-08:00

every contributing part (and more parts still..) in this image was found. thank you dal tile for your in-store samples; thank you fair fate for putting felled wood in my path; thank to pear trees at home and abroad; and thank you sweet sweet jam (spoken: jzzomm) for letting me find you, too, in the warm zones.

THE NEW HEAVEN AND THE NEW EARTH

2010-06-09T10:52:00.000-07:00

There is a free house show happening on Thursday June 10 at my hombre, Hobbes' sculpture studio in Oak Cliff. The address is 421 N. Tyler St., which is just one block south of Davis St.. here is a map. there are three bands playing. Since i booked this show around Philly's THE NEW HEAVEN AND THE NEW EARTH, i guess they will play last (11pm?) They sort of make this Renaissance chamber / boys choir noise, that is, they have nice voices and actually know how to pluck their strings, probably in the dark (and they are in the dark..) Some of the better song-writing i have seen come out of South Philly lately. Their lyrical content seems to reference an obscure time when apocalyptic warnings and weird prophesies dominated public thought ("..we stared into the stormy eye of madness and took that holy apparition by the hand..") With creepy synths, dissonant auto-harp, and surprising cello parts, I can't tell whether TNHATNE are poking a sort of Monty-Python-fun or crossing their hipster hearts with this project. Whatever the case, they are touring in support of their new record and cassette EP, ALL SAINTS DAY, released on Philly's own Edible Onion (Hermit Thrushes, Power Animal, Br'er), just weeks ago. Also on the bill is Houston's Holy Wols. Come get it.

TRACING SX

2010-03-29T14:45:00.001-07:00

2010-03-11T04:53:00.001-08:00

Here is some information on our SXSW showcase. Notice that Zico is sponsoring the show again this year. For every beer you should drink two baby coconuts. There will probably be several changes made to this schedule. If anyone was curious, that's my mum in the middle (all hips and swagger) striking a pose with some West Texas buds in '67. Strangely, my mum has never attended SXSW, despite a background in music and journalism. After a weird time at Woodstock in '69, she opted for Billy Graham conventions instead of the music festival thanggg.

This is an unofficial SXSW Day Show. We are calling it the 3rd Pyramid Day Show because my roommate and I are really into polyhedrons and expressions of PHI at the moment. The address is 3100 King St., Austin, Texas. Its right-off the strip (Guadalupe St.) near campus, and it will be an indoor/outdoor event. I'm pretty sure we will have the BBQ going all day, and as mentioned, Zico makes a damn fine blend of coconut water and electrolytes, so don't get all jacked at my friend Jen's house and blame booze.

/// OK /// THE MUSIC

From Olympia Washington, Lazer Zeppelin issues a hazy, dissonant sound that recalls either drunk gospel or sober witchcraft, i can't decide. Easy to get lost in this brand of psychadelia, which seems to be coming from some great distance and always from the side. More folk than rock; more country than folk; more western than country; you figure it out. I like it a lot.

On tour supporting their new record, Animalore, Via Audio is a wildly creative and expressive indie quartet from Brooklyn that writes irreverent, catchy tunes about failed romances, technology woes, mythical creatures etc. This is their second time to play our SXSW showcase, a small piece of trivia that makes me deeply and awkwardly happy.

Man Factory is a pop opera effort, from Arlington, TX, that concerns itself primarily with the 90's Street Fighter video arcade game. They write long, shifty songs with big guitar ballads, 70's disco synth solos, and lyrics that discuss the complicated relationships between Ken, Sagat, Guile, Dhalsim, Vega, Blanka etc.. If you can imagine a more nihilistic and adolescent Queen, then maybe you're getting close.

Other bands: Hermit Thrushes (Philly) /// Florene (Denton) /// Paleo (NYC) /// Paige Wood (NYC)

lake victor house

2009-11-23T10:29:00.001-08:00

I remember this being one of the better east dallas house shows of oh nine. The letter that we received from an anonymous neighbor on the following day (which had very obviously been labored over for a while) confirmed this. Despite a handful of minor syntax flaws, there wasn't a single type-o on the page and the author's message came clearly through: kindly go straight to hell.

SUMMER DIY SHOWS

2009-06-29T00:17:00.000-07:00

Here are a couple of last-minute shows that the Dallas DIY scene might want to know about:
Tuesday June 30 @ Mnt House [5320 Tremont]:
60's psychedelia meets 90's garage in the jagged wall of sound that Daughters of the Sun [Minneapolis] are assembling. Delivering big percussion parts and other-dimensional drones, these daughters [who are actually just three dudes] will likely keep us up late on Tuesday night. If you're into Teeth Mountain, Black Moth Super Rainbow or Indian Jewelry, then Minnesota's DOS will hit pretty near the mark as well.
/////////////////////////////////// ////////////////////////////// ////////////////////////////////// /////////////listen///////////////// ////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////////////// ///////////////////////////////////////

Also on the bill, Lord Scrummage [Detroit] is an ever-changing cast of players with largely electronic designs that deal with man's plight and the extreme absurdity of post-mod life. Less mechanical than their music, these guys are some new and bizarre form of auto-didactic fraternity who have actually done a lot for Detroit's DIY music scene. Their house venue, Scrummage University, books regular shows and even hosted Grandaddy's Jason Lytle [hello mr. influence] once for a meatloaf dinner, when he was in town on a lay-over.

Saturday July 4 @ Victor House [5123 Victor]:
Irepress [Boston]
Gifts From Enola [Harrisonburg, VA]

Night Control

2009-06-15T23:22:00.000-07:00

Striking fear and paranoia in the midnight guts of listeners, Los Angeles-based Night Control, is an oozing team of oddly-adjusted bedroom rockers who make a sort of dreary lo-fi, noise-pop sound, but that description probably won't do. Their latest efforts include the surprisingly lengthy 19-track Death Control, which has probably received more play in the last six months (at our house) than anything else, save ceiling fans, whose revolutions go unbothered for the greater part of three seasons. Released on Kill Shaman Records earlier this year, Death Control is a collection of tape recordings by Christopher Curtis Smith that bend without breaking, bleed without going stiff. This is music that seems unaware of itself, in spite of the nuanced exacting that analog shoegazers like CCS are known for. Rule: the more wreckless and disassociated the sound, the greater the concentration and technique for 80's referencing artists like Smith. Through hallucinating vocal treatments and use of heavy reverb and distortion there is a decidedly visceral loss of self and a blurring of sensibilities - the very reason many of these sound-collages call for repeat listens and beg for late-night toxic dancing. Link to their myspace page above and listen to tracks: Star 129, Don't Try, Good Looks, Trouble, and Star 131.

SILVER PINES / JUNE 27

2009-06-02T11:14:00.000-07:00

This is a show that I have been secretly planning for months. The bill has been booked since March, but I haven't really told anyone until now. Since the Silver Pines last played our Swiss House, they have been carving-out much more than just a reputation as one of Texas' leading contributors in the category for weird American psychedelia - they are finding their voice in a room of voices. Ghostly sequences: thought of in the old peak of night. Luminous, even. Breathing of statues? Silence of paintings? Yes.
Their sonic meanings: arriving and departing at the same time. And its deceiving, because these songs can seem long or short, depending on how lost the listener. i find myself swimming, crawling, falling but hardly hearing anything. The space in their music is just another sort of asking. Full of questions, I listen further and further still. Quick comparisons will bring to mind drone-lords Beach House, Mazzy Star or Brightblack Morning Light. Attention fans of Denton's Sabra Laval: you might find a cousin in the sound of Silver Pines; and Austin's Evolve Happy blog suggests lyrical similarities with Fight Bite's Leanne Macomber. Sure. OK.

Based in San Marcos, but always on tour, this van-tripping team of merry-folksters have made economy a priority in their music. I don't seem to know what constitutes an EP these days, but Stephanie gave me a copy of their recent record, Forces, last time they were in town, and it goes without saying, that those seven songs have become my 27-minute reason for securing their return-ticket. The title Forces seems apt, as these songs resonate with a sense of restraint, lurid oscillations and friction, so that we are left, dust-covered, weakened, in the damp balance, where being there together is enough.

Still more: Silver Pines have shared stage with many of my favorite folk, instrumental and psychedelic bands, including Headdress, Nite Jewel, This Will Destroy You and Indian Jewelry. On June 27, they will play alongside their travel-mates Silent Land Time Machine, and Prussia, a touring five-piece from Detroit, who will be the opening players. My address is 5320 Tremont. Doors open at 8pm. Bands at 9pm, 10pm and 11pm. BYOB, duh.

RELATED TO DINOSAURS

2009-05-19T07:24:00.000-07:00

I don't know much about birds. Never really liked them much. I always thought it was sad that they had to come down from the blue sky to eat from dumpsters or peck at the pathetic remains of a croque monsieur atop patio tables at La Madeleine. They look so nice up there, doing whatever weird ministry god is paying them to do in the air. Nice from far away. One time I witnessed the clumsy escape of this disoriented bird that was trapped inside my parents house. It was the most terrifying event of my childhood. The bird kept flying full-speed into our glass windows - trying to get outside, but couldn't figure out how to negotiate the whole transparent glass thing. It made this awful noise, like the sound of angels bleeding or something. Anyway, my May house show features two bird-themed bands, and while I don't know how their music qualifies their ave-oriented monikers, I promise they are much prettier close-up.

Little Birds (Dallas, TX) play @ 9pm
The Lovely Sparrows (Austin, TX) play @ 10pm

SUNSET @ MOUNTAIN HOUSE

2009-04-04T10:48:00.000-07:00

This show marks the beginning of a new trend in Mountain House music. With Austin's mood-mastering, bedroom-psych trio Sunset, and Arizona's folk-grazing Buffalo Tramp & V.V. Vioux, our April 11th bill is setting the pace for what passers-by can expect in the language of suchness and sound.

Sunset makes a expanding, seductive sound - begging listeners to begin a new brand of listening. Experiments in hearing. Their beach-rock melodies and drowning percussion pulls listeners to some central place of hearing, where all other senses seem to play second flute. More: there's the pixilated voices that sound as though they come from some distant moon, trying to describe some uncertain shape, but leave with the same foreign sensibility that they arrived with - like an obscure conversation whose details you can't remember, but whose feeling stays with you like a habit. And as these songs move from soundscape to soundscape, their sonic logic is soon recognized as the sort that dreams practice. They are driving from Austin, just to play this show, so please help me cover their travel expenses by putting a few bucks in the bin. Sunset will play second, probably around 10:30pm.

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On tour from Jerome, Arizona, Buffalo Tramp & V.V. Vioux are a pneumatic folk duo that enable a strict economy of guitar melodies and camp-fire harmonies. If you appreciate Mi & L'au, Devendra Banhart or most anything from Young God Records, then you will likely take to this team of maudlin bohemians. Please be here by 9pm to hear these guys - they're all grins to play a house show in Dallas...

BAZAN

2009-04-01T20:49:00.000-07:00

I probably don't deserve the almost myth-like good fortune that has befallen me lately, but who really deserves anything? For better or for worse, life happens, and the less you try to control it, the more enjoyable it usually is. That was pretty much my logic when I spoke to Steven Bazan (cousin of Pedro the Lion's mane character, David Bazan) last friday, who told me that David was playing a sold-out house show in Denton and that he wanted me to come along. There are probably more fierce Bazan fans out there, especially on the religious fringe, but he ranks pretty high on my list. Always has. Anyway, here's the short: my brother, Elliott, and I, got blitzed with David Bazan on Friday night, and although I can hardly remember a single thing we talked about, I remember laughing my white-bread, suburban, agnostic ass off. Luckily, I had my camera in-tow, to refresh my memory. I should mention one other thing. When we received the call from Steven, we decided to deliver gifts. I made David a mixed-cd with some old, new, local and rare stuff, while Elliott selected two copies from my collection of Randell Morgan prints. We presented Mr. Bazan with these cult gifts, along with a copy of Wallace Steven's poetry. That dude has had a greater influence on me than high-school, so it felt good to volley. Here are four photos from that night.

SXSW

2009-03-24T01:01:00.000-07:00

March has not failed me for more than a thousand moons. Doesn't have that power anymore. I will make them, make me, make them nice. The month makes a great sound, and music is what we sometimes know to call it. But SXSW is there with us too. Our Austin house show on Thursday was a thing of intense beauty. From coconut water with David Strackney (Paleo) to dance seizures with Reverse X Rays, the King Street Day Show had all the trappings of a successful showcase, and it certainly qualified by typical music festival standards: those who remember the event are in proportion to those who don't. Here is a photo of Phosphorescent, taken in my kitchen, the day it all began, Wednesday March 18.

Apparently Willie Nelson's granddaughter wrote Phosphorescent's Matthew Houck an email this morning, requesting some sort of rendezvous in Austin, after having heard his recent record, To Willie, a tribute to Mr. Nelson, covering eleven songs. She might be fun to hang out with...

PHOSPHORESCENT @ MOUNTAIN HOUSE

2009-03-08T14:03:00.000-07:00

Between my Mountain House in Dallas and Jen's house in Austin, i have 22 bands booked to play this month. They come from as far as Norwich, England, as nearby as Denton, and as a rule, from Brooklyn. North Texas is obvious tour territory, for bands en route to SXSW, so these Dallas shows serve as bookends for the festival - catching music as it comes and goes from our capitol city. On March 17, i tip my hairdo at St. Patrick, wondering why we wax so lucky 'round here. Struck gold with buddy Matthew Houck, who agreed to bring his Phosphorescent project to my two-bedroom campsite on Tremont St. The show is coming up fast and coming up roses, with Paleo climbing aboard the bill as late as last week. Thanks to friends at Western Vinyl who helped book Luke Temple's latest project, Here We Go Magic! With house show bills like this, we hope to dutifully put shitty Dallas bars out of business. March 17 is a Tuesday. Don't forget that. The show is going to begin early, with Brooklyn's Callers playing at 7pm.

Paleo is the music project of David Strackany, the guy who reached some degree of notoriety (when interviewed by NPR's Morning Edition) for writing and recording 365 songs in 2007. He traveled more than 50,000 miles and played over 200 shows that year - making him perhaps the most prolific songwriter since King David, supposed author of the Psalms. Coos like acid-folk muse, Devendra Banhart, and sounds as though he might be partial towards Neutral Milk Hotel. Paleo plays at 8pm.

Here We Go Magic! is another break-out Brooklyn band of indie darlings that have been receiving loads of press lately. I know more about Luke Temple (frontman for HWGM!) and this project represents a massive redirection in style/substance. I like it though. It is a continuous and captive-making psych-gaze sound that is certain to bode well on our new house pa. Luke Temple carved-out some street-cred last year when his record Snowbeast was named one of the top 15 albums in 2008 by the musical trendsetters at Daytrotter.com. Since then, blogs have been rushing to review / interview HWGM!, including our very own WeShotJr. Read it here. These beauties will probably take to their machines at 10pm.

The following is an account of what happened when Phosphorescent played the Cavern last year: (1) Matthew Houck sneaked a bottle of bourbon into the upstairs lounge before his set, (2) which he played for a max-capacity crowd on a Monday night and (3) finished with a cover of Tom Petty's Won't Back Down, while pacing the length of the downstairs bar between a Red Sea of music slaves who shook like the chosen ones in a new era of sonic wandering. (4) Later that night all four members of Phosphorescent passed-out in the various corners of my apartment, swingin' full bellies of bourbon with one hand and a Dallas groupie with the other. Nice job ladies. I took this foto the following morning. Matthew and his touring band will likely play around 11pm.

DO YOUR WORST!

2009-02-05T12:20:00.001-08:00

This is a tidy little preview of what will be happening at the Mountain House, on the 14th - february's main claim to fame, and the only holiday wherein hipsters feign manogamy. Jk, guys! You're so pretty when you're faithful to me... The Physics of Meaning are a touring chamber pop family from Durham, N.C., where awesome orchestral nerdome is even more rare than it is in Dallas. Their frontman, Daniel Hart, weilds an electric viola like a poet with a piece of lead. His string ballads blend something old, new, borrowed and blue - giving his songs every mark of gen-x genius (listen to In Dreams We Discover Ourselves); while his singing-voice dispatches listeners instantly into what is nothing other than an indie-rock song. I took this foto the last time they were in town, playing a small house show at Ariel's place. Will you come to see them at my place, Ariel? Will you ever even read this, ariel? Meh. For everyone else: be here by 10pm - The Physics of Meaning are rad live.

Also playing that night, The Heartstring Stranglers are perhaps my favorite string quartet in ten-states (to borrow a Texas expression that is usually quoth by Texans who haven't been north of Tulsa or west of El paso...) and have more talent / drama/ and foreign languages on their side than...other talented, dramatic and multi-lingual bands around. Their songs are dark, creepy, Euro-cafe compositions, that are easy to listen to and stimulating to see live. Come see them live. 9pm.

Halloween House Show

2008-10-28T08:06:00.001-07:00

There are five confirmed musical courses for this show, and one surprise guest that promises to make your guts quiver. Here is the flier that i built. Scroll down for links to
the music and a quick sketch of what they sound like.

True to their name, Lake, issues a playful, summer camp sound that doesn't stray too far from the K Records success formula: mixing spry synth melodies with melancholy vocals and groovy bass rhythms on an eight-track at Karl Blau's apartment - the Department of Safety, in Anacortes , WA. Lake has played shows with everyone that i admire and will undoubtedly be the sweetest part of the night for me. They will probably play around midnight, since Dallas has to get all Schlitzed-up before having fun - a disease that keeps them from attending early shows. Too bad for them.

Desolation Wilderness is another recent K Records draft pick. Their musical decisions are obviously influenced by the mysterious and turbulent landscapes of the Desolation Wilderness, in California's Sierra Nevada country. If you like Iceland's Mum or Sweden's Voices and Organs, you will definitely swoon over the heavy reverb and tape-delay noise in DW's set. All around talented musicians. They will likely play first - around 11pm.

I have only been listening to The League of Fucking Decency for about six months, and already they are my favorite Dallas punk band. Their songs are simple, but have a deep sense of irony at their lyrical center. You can expect unexpected laughter, catchy guitar riffs and lyrics that are mostly political in nature. Soundtrack for a western starring Lou Reed? They rarely play shows and might not even have a proper record, but isn't that the point of punk? TLOFD will play after Lake, probably around 1am.

Crystal Antlers has not confirmed, but i am pretty sure they will be playing this show, since their date with houston was canceled. I don't know loads about the band, but their ep just received an 8.5 on Pitchfork, which actually says a lot, considering P'fork's elitist attitude toward the whole of music culture. If they play, they are going to play loud and big and rowdy. They will smash their drums and your little Halloween hearts. Thanks to Parade of Flesh for booking this one. Last to play. Definitely last.

My clever and charming friend, Nick, will be demonstrating his project Dogme 95 outside and spinning records for the millions of smokers and "non-smokers" (which means that they don't buy cigarettes) who refuse to acknowledge great music inside doors.

Mount Righteous House Show

2008-10-13T11:54:00.000-07:00

I love what's happening in Denver, Colorado: wild imaginations, one mile high. This is a free show, for all the kids who support Dallas DIY and are too cheap to drink in bars. It's also an early show, so don't arrive at midnight, expecting to woo the masses with all your new breakdance moves.

It's hard to imagine a band playing my Swiss House, the State Fair of Texas and the Ft. Worth Modern, all in the same week. Well, it's happening, as anything could. Crazy world we inhabit. Mount Righteous is a robust, optimistic, pop-folk outfit from Grapevine, that says "please" and "thank you," holds hands as they cross the street, and only plays unplugged, acoustic sets. With eleven members, this high-energy ensemble (wielding an accordion, marching band percussion components, trombones and something called a sousaphone) will probably be the reason my landlord calls me on Thursday. They have often been accused of being way too happy, but of course, that commentary usually comes from depressed and malnourished vegans, who only make music for their fanny-pack emo friends. Sadly, i like both brands of music.

Based in Denver, Paper Bird is a six-piece folk family that employs a trombone, trumpet, banjo, upright bass and harmonicas, to design a sound that takes cues from ragtime tunes, blues and Americana tradition. Their sexy three-part harmonies are also worth noting. If name dropping will convince you, Paper Bird has two tour dates with Devotchka, in Boulder, later this month. Their Texas tour is an interesting one, but not altogether uncommon these days: they are playing mostly art festivals and house shows. What can i say? It's fun. Feel good. Share your beer with the band. They play second, probably around 10pm.

Also from Denver, Laura Goldhamer is a playful, music-making storyteller. If Joanna Newsom played banjo and didn't effect her voice to such extremes, it might be hard to tell these two artists apart. It appears that Laura is also involved in a number of embarrassingly creative stop-animation video projects, which i hear she will be showing during her set. She will likely take to the "stage" first, around 9pm.

Pattern is Movement

2008-10-03T02:57:00.000-07:00

This is basically the best lineup we have had at our Swiss House. I think situations like this are very rare. Everybody says so. Everybody must know. And it's the first time that i have ever had to sign a contract and promise to provide hard cider, for a band to play my house. Doesn't matter. To see Pattern is Movement in this context: i would do most anything. Anybody would. And if the right musical bodies show face for this show, then it will be the stuff of greatness. Of that i am certain, like two twice is four.

With Pattern is Movement, we are seeing a new trend in musicianship, whereby artists are required to master not only their instruments and craft, but their brand image as well. By sheer virtue of joining a band, musicians are compelled to become promoters of the same, and their tenure in the band could often be considered a crash-course in consumer marketing. PIM seems to have a good grasp on this side of the business. From carefully sculpted beards to an overtly ambiguous moniker, these guys either studied corporate communication at undergrad, or have spent enough time on myspace to figure it out for themselves.

Epitomizing a brand of independent music that has been in circulation for a few years, Pattern is Movement has incorporated bass, accordion, a variety of strings, Rhodes piano, mellotron, drums and loads of percussion into a framework of sound that seems far too complex for two people to pull-off. Somehow they do it. And damn well. But what is most compelling about this project is their use of monotone and minor-key vocals to create an otherworldly sound, bulging and unwieldy at times, but acute and surgical at others. Their song structures aren't too different from Caribou, Midlake, Deefhoof or Beirut, if comparisons are what you're after. Their new release, All Together (released by Home Tapes, 2008), is one of the more creative recordings this year, with a strong pulse and very few boring moments. Lyrically, they lean a little abstract, which is ok with me, since we all seem to know far too much about artists these days, thank you Vice Magazine and youtube.

If you dig Animal Collective, then you are going to fall hard for MothFight! who is coming-up from Austin to open for PIM. Mothfight! is an oft-changing sound experiment that blends washed-out synth melodies and distorted knob-turning with chantings that will instantly remind listeners of Panda Bear. Also, their use of violin and xylophone lend balance to an otherwise beautifully messy affair. I saw Mothfight! in March, at SXSW, and have been twisting their digital arm to play my Swiss House ever since. It's finally happening: paint me happy.

The other opener was personally requested by the guys from Pattern is Movement. Friends Gavin Guthrie and Aaron Mollet will be unraveling their ambient noise project, Florene, outside, and then spinning records after their set. Florene seems to get their share of criticism around town (from largely unqualified sources), but for a laptop project that uses engineered sound bites, sequenced drum beats, synthesizers, guitar drones, pedal and knob tweaking - i have always enjoyed listening to their live set. As artists, if you're not pissing some people off, then you're grossly neglecting an important part of the pantomime. And here's something that a lot of people don't know about Gavin and Aaron: they have a pretty large footprint outside of Texas. Their influence and enthusiasm for local music has done loads of good for a DFW music scene that has barely been keeping its head above water. Proper nods for that.

Shuttles

2008-09-24T00:27:00.000-07:00

My friend, Bryan, who i met through Carolina, back when Dave and Sarah were still dating and Michael still thought Radiohead was cool, just got married to a girl named Heather, the only Heather that has ever made much of an impression on me. More precisely, a welcomed impression. Sure, i've known a few Heathers, but their brand of impressions do real damage, folks. Consider a train wreck. More on that: i met all these kids when we lived in shuttles together and chain-smoked cigarettes in a small field surrounded by large benches, which were surrounded by even larger parking lots which were surrounded by a very bourgeois breed of big, blonde hair and new money. We called the area "smoker's pit." We became a band of friends who have evolved in some of the most fascinating ways, though none of us smoke anymore. And by that, of course i mean: none of us buy cigarettes anymore. This is a small batch of images that i snapped, in the most unceremonious way, while killing time in the rat-infested dressing room of some methodist church downtown. i told them that they looked like a two-part family folk band from Topeka, and i hope they took that as a compliment, because i meant it with grins.

Bryan and Heather believe that "life is more than just a bad joke, a violent and ill-fated abortion of the primal mother, a sad and dismal catastrophe of nature. To them, the thought has come that man is not merely a half-rational animal, but a child of the gods and destined to immortality." Quick aside: Bryan is also in my book club, that weekly holy time, where we trade ideas for words and swills of wine. Can't get enough of the Steppenwolf.

Voices and Organs

2008-09-01T09:33:00.000-07:00

My September House Show is happening! And it will happen. And it will be happening! Voices and Organs is coming all the way from Malmö, Sweden, to tour North America for the first-time. Making only three tour-stops in Texas, this dreamy duo is playing my "Swiss House" venue on Friday September 12. Thanks to Michael Muller (Balmorhea) and friends at Western Vinyl for booking V&O (who released their LP, Orphanage, on Western Vinyl in 2006) and organizing (what appears to be) a very promising east-coast tour, with two stops in NYC, including Brooklyn's Glasslands, with Appalachian folk chums, Samamidon; and a Tuesday night show with Et Ret (another member of Western Vinyl's experi-folk family) at Manhattan's beloved Lower East Side Cake Shop.

Voices and Organs make a fragile, oceanic sound that Iceland's Múm (they have a wiki page now?!?) sort of popularized in the late 90's with their electronic glitch beats and dazed, synth-laden melodies. The voices, in the V&O recordings, sort of sound like a prozak-popping Jens Lekman, (Sweden's other English-speaking indie-darling) before his wild success with Night Falls Over Kortedala.

Gently lapping against the lobes of their listener, like neat waves against stone, these songs have a carefully balanced composition: muted horns, giving depth to drowned-out percussion sounds; organs, lending a dreamy sea-side quality; and sentimental lyrics that set the pace for occasional violin sections - creating a sense of soap opera dramatism. Overall, their sound issues an emotional response, and while the aesthetic possesses a measure of gravity that keeps the listener close-by all the while, it also has some distinct quality that makes it instantly forgettable. Like sunbathing on a yacht: one is so caught-up in the present, that it leaves nothing to be remembered. Nothing but a feeling.

Headlining my September house show, MOM, is another two-piece instrumental project, who has become something of a hero around here (North Texas), and continues to impress new/old listeners with their string-virtuosity and circuit-bending techniques. Vibrating, with one-part classical instrumentation (violin, cello and acoustic guitar) and one part digital noise, Bruce Blay and Joel North make a sound that can serve as either background music (while mending wool socks, practicing shadow-puppet forms, making reptile origami) or foreground listening music (for the dozen or so active listeners in DFW). JK, Dallas. BFF forever!

Oh, yeah, this show marks the first of like one-million shows that Mom and Voices and Organs will play together, on a tour that will take them all over North America and even across the pond, to play for our heathen brothers: the nation of Europe. Sorry, guys. You would be shocked how many sagging minds emerge from the sludge of our DISD, thinking that Africa is a country. C'mon!

Spinning outside, in what has become a massive gravel ashtray, Wanz Dover is bringing his dub / techno project, Blixaboy, to all of the beautifully numb and musically indifferent people that sometimes spend five straight weekend hours in my "backyard." If i had to sum-up his sound in five words, i would simply quote from the opening sentence in Orwell's masterpiece, "...the clocks were striking thirteen." Wanz, how are you so dang cool?

Bodies of Water

2008-08-21T12:14:00.000-07:00

What happened to the poetry that was promised us? Ever wonder how everything broke? Why people only look at themselves in photographs? (Thomas Merton once said that the reason we keep looking into mirrors is because of a secret suspicion that we really don't exist!) Lately i have been looking for myself in photographs of other people, other places and other assorted nouns. I have looked at the world and i can barely see myself. We can't be surprised. We have known for a long time that things would turn out this way. The Velvet Underground told us so. It's never too late to begin listening to The Velvet Underground, guys. If you somehow skipped over them and went straight to the pop-charts in high school: put down your Relevant Magazine and pick up their Best of. I still remember the first time i heard All Tomorrow's Parties - i was upset at my mum, who taught me everything about the Psalms but nothing about music. But this entry isn't supposed to be about TVU, or anything underground for that matter. This post is about the Bodies of Water.

The first time i saw Bodies of Water: roommate and i accidentally walked in on their set at the Longbranch Inn (Austin's east-side dive) on the opening night of SXSW 2007. Couldn't believe it. They were jumping around in African caftans, singing at the top of their lungs, and filling the shotgun bar with an energy that i had not seen since...ABBA? Beautiful. Best show of week. The following is a short-hand version of what followed: i stalked them for a year on myspace; exchanged a few emails with Meredith; spun the hell out of their record; caught-up with them after their set at Urban Outfitters (SXSW 2008); ate drippy popsicles in the Texas sun with Kyle (bass player) and Meredith (organ), and photographed the band standing next to their van. Nice people. Thrilling music. No one is more interesting to watch than Meredith, who does this little hop (when she gets excited) that will break your weak, little indie heart.

Let's talk about Ears Will Pop And Eyes Will Blink. Comparisons won't help you. I could tell you that Meredith sounds like Nico and that David sounds like Lou Reed at times, and while their songs seem to grow from the same fertile soil that The Velvet Underground plumbed in their time, the intense light of their lyrics and their inventive song structures give these recordings a wind that we have not felt since the sixties. Not to say that they are venturing into completely unchartered waters, because you'll hear anchors where the Danielson Family has clearly been, especially on the opening track, Our Friends Appear Like the Dawn, where the following claim is made: "You do not need to own guitars, you do not need a set of drums, all you need is your throat and mind to lift noise up to god." The obvious favorite on this record is track 4 (I Guess I'll Forget the Sound, I Guess, I Guess) - a wildly versatile song that could qualify as battle-cry music at times and a baptist hymn at others. With trumpet, trombone, viola and countless tempo changes, the piece pulls the listener along with a confidence that extends itself, rung by rung, climbing ever higher and taking-on new shapes all the while. Very effective use of vocalise throughout the record, but namely (oddly?) on the even tracks (4, 6, 8 and 10). There is also this: the whole record abounds with the sort of ambiguous god references that people gave Sufjan a hard time for in the beginning, and later forgot about because the songs were so good. (I know a gaggle of atheists who will happily sing along to every song on Seven Swans).

An alternate title for this record could be Forget Everything You Thought You Knew About Music. Forget everything that you thought you knew about Los Angeles. Forget everything, period. Bodies of Water is perfect escapism. Their song-writing instincts come from a very disciplined place. Their musical virtuosity can be pointed-to, like Asia on a map. Volcanic, turbulent, their energy is palpable, and like the ocean - it will leave its smell on the skin of your mood. Quick aside: in light of the physical force and drive behind their sound, a moniker like Geyser might characterized them better than Bodies of Water. Oh, and they just released another LP. Who can keep up?

10 noises / 10 foto

2008-08-18T13:35:00.000-07:00

At the request of many dear friends, i have assembled a short list of albums (top 10) that have been on repeat (recently) in my studio, on my ipod and in the technicolor background of my dreams. For me, music is a sticky thing that attaches itself to the surface of my waking life. In many instances, the music that accompanies me through the events of my day are inseparable from the events themselves. It becomes hardwired into my reality and adds a fascinating texture to routine happenings that would otherwise seem static or uneventful. In conjunction with the list of music, (some of which is old/new) i am including ten photos of friends who have been instrumental (sorry) in making this music memorable. Together, we have danced, daydreamed, and discovered god in the company of these songs. Songs that get up early and stay out late.

1/ John Maus - Love is Real
2/ Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago
3/ The Evangelicals - The Evening Descends
4/ Animal Collective - Sung Tongs
5/ The Dirty Projectors - The Getty Address
6/ Matmos - Supreme Balloon
7/ Four Tet - Rounds
8/ Yann Tiersen - Goodbye, Lenin
9/ Buddy - Alterations and Repairs
10/ Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes

See, Speak, Hear (a little) Evil

2008-08-15T14:32:00.000-07:00

While in Austin, over the weekend, I was able to meet up with friends, Jeff and Sierra - two of my favorite people in the three dimensions that make-up our physical reality. When i met Jeff, about two years ago, he was living with Nico and they were making music together in the dining room of their two-bedroom house. When they played live, they assumed the moniker, The Smoky Speakers, but to me, they were always just Jeff and Nico. After Nico moved to NYC and Jeff moved to Austin, I found a miserable little hole in my life - a hole that their music had previously occupied - for that very vivid and magical period of time. A time that may very well be referred to as My Blue Period. A time that was marked with both wonder and tragedy. I'm not entirely sure when it happened, but a definite shift in my perspective occurred, and these nights spent with Jeff and Nico (recording on an eight-track in the small hours of the morning) had much to do with the seismic rupturing that led to such a dynamic lifestyle and paradigm shift.

Anypath, the night that we spent with them in Austin was very memorable, and we took some photos to illustrate just how ridiculous things can get when the right minds converge upon each other. I even captured a shot of Jeff in his studio/closet. Notice the B&W prints (positioned on the wall behind him) - those were taken by his grandfather, an oil man, who actually witnessed the eruption of countless oil derricks, as seen in There Will Be Blood.

And now for perhaps the biggest bragging-right of the year: i have in my possession, the only physical copy of live recordings by The Smoky Speakers. These lo-fi recording sessions took place in the winter of 2006-2007, and the result is rough, uncut, and some of my favorite music ever made. Jealous?

Lesser Gonzalez Alvarez

2008-08-08T18:55:00.000-07:00

Ok, let's talk about a photogenic guy named Lesser Gonzalez Alvarez, the artist, musician and asker of important questions. I first learned of Lesser through Jana Hunter: native North Texan; praised for her inventive folk ballads; beloved by gypsies and known among birds. Jana is touring again this fall, and along for the ride, is her Baltimore neighbor - a fine young man called Lesser Gonzalez Alvarez. For about three days now, i have been enjoying his new record, Why is Bear Billowing? (scheduled for release on Carpark Records, August 19th, 2008) - a dreamy and effortless collection of songs that move like images across a screen. In many ways, Alvarez gives us these images and asks us to find our own meaning in them. He has done his part. As it should be, the listener is free to interpret the narratives, in each song, as he sees fit. And although our first impulse (as listeners) is to hear the music, these gentle guitar melodies can be read, as easily as heard. Cozy and sentimental, his lyrics have an appropriate measure of theater, as seen in the last half of the record, but especially on tracks 5 (Narwhal Horn) and 10 (Owl and the Pussycat). The opening track, Magic, is definitely my favorite, followed by track 3 (Pinecone Eyes), where his poetry is in full-bloom; and his tendency toward lyrical abstractions reaches new heights when he writes "Boy are you a sight for my pine cone eyes, I'll rest half my head on your fire-proof belly." In fact, the first half of the record is considerably more interesting than the second half. Tactile and nature-based, the esprit de corps of his songwriting quickly reminds me of Joanna Newsome, Tom Brosseau and Leonard Cohen. Then there is an unmistakable homage to the ghost of Jeff Buckley, whose influence can be heard in the high-notes, and clear props to best bud, Davendra Banhart, who is responsible for contributing to (if not beginning) a marked trend in writing such dusty western tunes - tunes that swell and sway with loads of potency, in spite of the simple string arrangements. Considering the pace of these eleven songs, which is slow, contemplative (and standing perfectly still at times), there is a surprising yardstick of activity. He is at his best when he is playing. You know - being playful. He plays with his voice. He plays with the ways that we listen. And then there are the standard things that he (Avant folk brands...err bands) plays with: reality, some girls hair, and emotions of every variety. Plenty of theater. A poet who has learned to play a few instruments: guitar, castanets and probably some estranged kitchen utensils for percussive moments. Small parts of the pantomime. Keeper of many promises, Alvarez claims to know something about magic in the first fifteen seconds of this record, and true to his word, he qualifies this statement with a sleight-of-hand demonstration that lasts for more than 35-minutes. There are some very good ideas here. Nice work, Lesser.

These Crazy Research Days

2008-08-06T18:11:00.001-07:00

I have this friend who just returned from Vietnam, where she sustained an injury to her arm, her precious arm. A piece of glass fell from some high place and found a floor upon her wrist. And it bled and bled. And the doctors stitched and stitched so that now it doesn't hurt but the skin remembers that day when it was a soft floor. When it played that part without seeking the part. Well, i'm assuming that she did some sort of faulty web search, as she is now of the opinion that she suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Isn't it cute how confusing everything is becoming now that research is simply a matter of cramming a few key words into a google search field, crossing our fingers and letting technology do the leg-work. In the future, we will assume that Michael Jordan is responsible for coining the expression, "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."

In other news, Nico, Matt and i found a box of neon bracelets for a buck at a discount art-supply store. Score. 'Round-about midnight, we geeked out like some pro's and ran around the neighborhood like a team of re-animated hipster vampires.

August House Show, Weekend

2008-08-04T19:49:00.000-07:00

It feels like I've been traveling, despite having not strayed in excess of a few blocks from my studio, in East Dallas, for more than a week. The mighty force, that is Nico, blew into town last week; is staying with me and staying for a while. Here's the thing: when friends are visiting, it puts the host on this decidedly strange course, whereby everything seems far more interesting and, in a way, new. You see things through new eyes. I even saw myself crossing a street. I saw myself sweeping the floor and wondered what the walls thought of my movement. I forgot that that the first function of a couch is not surfing. I forgot how nice it was to have Nico around. The highlight of my day, on Friday, was a bike ride that took Oscar, Natalie, Nico and i to the farmers market for some fresh fruit and an avocado or two. Nothing could stand in our way. Not even the fact that Nico would be riding a bike built for a ten year-old boy, and Natalie would be wearing a skirt in the saddle of my mountain bike. I can only imagine this bizarre sight: the four of us weaving through downtown Dallas (during business hours), dressed like bohemian mercenaries and turning every red light into a photo shoot.

This last photo was taken in front of the Dallas Freemason building - a site that Nico wanted to see because she is good friends with some Freemason dude in Manhattan who told her the following thing about Masons: they wear white gloves at lodge meetings so that the individual members won't have any visual clues for determining how other members are employed. Hands give away too much information. Flesh resumes. Weird. Oh, yeah, i also remember hearing something about there only being odd-numbered floors at the Freemason headquarters in NYC. Dark, guys.

Saturday went like this:
Elliott, the seperatist, surprised me with an impromptu visit from Houston, after calling me that afternoon and wishing me "good luck at the party." Highlights included romping around with Cody and Elliott during Reverse X Rays' set. Here are a few unrelated quotes, thoughts and photos from my August House Show, which featured Farah, Reverse X Rays and a dj-set by the guys from Sydney Confirm (Sean, Gian and Preston).

Oh, Farah, how did a person like you happen? There were approximately fifty people there to see Farah perform her new material, which was so overtly dark and "preachy," that it bordered on comedic. I don't know who the joke was on, us or us. One can only assume that she is mostly unconscious - a condition which allows her to take such lyrical liberties. Most of her songs seem to skate around all the same existential and apocalyptic axioms, as observed in her song, Bruise Color Blue, when she whispers, "All i ask of you is long-term suffering, i will be with you in spirit and the wreckage." Quick trip to The Void if you're not careful, but you can't knock the music itself. The synth and drum arrangements are damn catchy, and nearly enough to put my mind in such a trance, so that the words don't matter. I don't know who put her beats together, but they are moody, magical and delicious. And she certainly knows how to distribute her body (geek for dance). In fact, she is most interesting as a performer. You can't tell from this photo, but people actually traced the perimeter of the room - giving her space to move around. Meanwhile, Cody the dog, was not impressed.

Maybe you don't know this about me, maybe you do: my new favorite dance move is just jumping. Shoulders hunched forward, head bobbing, hands twitching, i will shake for a song that i like. For a song that i love? Jumping is the only way. Here are some shots of the guys from Reverse X Rays, who gave us 45 minutes of spazzed-out drums and spiraling guitar arrangements, with regular tempo shifts and loads of instrument swapping. Their lyrics are sparse, but well delivered, and tend to grow from inside the songs. Sometimes the only voices you hear are in a choral-style, as heard in Astronauts of Theory, but early Talking Heads or Modest Mouse fans might get excited here. They definitely put on a performance-driven show with high-levels of energy and good spontaneity. Shane played saxophone on a few songs and Owen even recited a free verse poem of some sort. All the while, we wondered Do Holes Exist?

In a moment of splendid clarity (drunken stupor), i feverishly scribbled down the following message on a scrap of paper that i found the next day in my jeans:
"Happy people invented dancing, and their legs were previously carpenters."
If anyone can untangle this wad of abstract sneezing, i will be temporarily grateful...

The next day, we woke to the otherworldly sound of a crying Nico - passing a kidney stone. Cody took her to the emergency room while i cooked my curry eggs for Tall Reed and Ethan of RXR's. We sat around drinking coffee, showing each other music and joking that Owen had mom's stashed all over the country. I gave them my air-mattress to take on the road, and Ethan gave me a CD of his solo project, Ethan Master of the Hawaiian Ukulele. Here is a photo that i took in the last fifteen seconds of their sojourn at my Swiss House.

On Passports

2008-07-30T11:12:00.001-07:00

So, it's a good thing that passports have a life of ten years before expiring, because one must nearly die and visit the first belly of hell in the process of applying for a new one. Normal processing time is ten weeks. Need it rushed? That will cost you a minimum of $170. Need passport photos? That's another fifteen-bucks. Or you can take your own digital picture and print it at CVS for 29-cents. That's what i did. The passport office is very picky though. I was told that photos have been denied on some pretty silly basis: bra-strap showing, necklace too big, bad lighting, etc. Here are a few guidelines: (1) the background must be white (2) there must be several inches of white-space around the head (3) the neck and part of the shirt must be showing (4) there must not be any strong shadows (5) it must measure approximately 2x2-inches. Once these criteria are met, you can do what you like to the images. I removed forehead wrinkles, applied vignetting to the corners and gave myself a tan. Sweet eh?

July Update

2008-07-28T06:54:00.000-07:00

When someone uses the word "adventure," you would expect that they had left town to take in those wildly unpredictable experiences that traveling typically provides. Typically. My weekend tasted like nothing typical, and i didn't even leave my zip code. Also, if i may borrow one of my mother's life-long expressions: i have the most amazing friends in 10 states. Here is a photo that I took on Sunday at the dog park.

On Saturday, i met with friends at the "Safe House" for a salmon dinner; picked up a few films for the week, and then headed to the House of Dang to see a friend's band play. First time to see Julie and Bob play a proper show, even if it was in the back yard of an art/clothing boutique in East Dallas. Julie has a delicate bronze voice that she keeps mostly folded-up inside her throat, so that the restrained notes emerge with magical emphasis at times, and withdraw like a wheezing accordion at others. Sounding much like Casey Dienel, from Brooklyn's White Hinterland, Julie demonstrates an evolving aptitude on the guitar, but her strangely tuned, sing-song voice is certainly her first instrument. Bob keeps great time on his humble trap-set, watching Julie closely for cues and patiently pushing the songs along. More than once, did i catch myself shaking to the controlled bass drum patterns that Bob created. Here they are in the dusk glory of a smoldering Texas summer eve.

After Julie and Bob's set, we heard Summer Salt, who i had actually come to see. Straight forward sound with four pieces: two guitars, bass and drums. They sound more like The Strokes than The Strokes and are certainly more fun. I stood atop a wooden bench for a few photos, and in an attempt to avoid the mosh dance war that ensued.

Made a brief stop-off to the Fallout Lounge, where Wanz Dover was putting down his Berlin-influenced techno beats for a packed house of Dallas' dirtiest hipsters. Carolina made us participate in her dance circle, per usual. The whole crew was in attendance: Carver, Elliott, Cody the Human, Kjerstan, Kirby, Jen (from Austin), Naaman & Ashley, Katie and Josie, Super Todd, Caro, Oscar, etc etc. Everything spilled over into my place soon after, where we jumped to the Make-up and chased each other around the block until 4am. Surprised I remember all that...

Sunday was a fascinating day that took Oscar and i downtown, where we drifted in and out of consciousness on grassy lawns and read Wallace Stevens. I recited from memory, the first stanza of Walt Whitman's Song on Myself, as i pinched a sprig of summer grass between my fingers and contemplated that delicate film - my awareness, upon which so many things attach themselves: light, sound, paranoia, the passing of airplanes overhead, spider webs, the civilization of man, and the technology that has alienated us from the natural world. Oscar went away to have a conversation with some blackbirds in a nearby tree, while i scribbled in my journal - something about surface tension. Came home to find roommate, Micula, mid jam session, with Cody the Dog looking-on in wonder and a trace of doggy dismay. Had a vegetarian dinner at the Harri Krishna temple with Elliott, Carver, Todd, Caro, Natalie and Oscar. Watched the first few minutes of The Brothers Quay before passing-out at midnight.

Death and Religion?

2008-07-26T00:40:00.000-07:00

From Rilke and Nietzsche, to Spanish surrealist films and the Apostle Paul, all forms have done well to bring this into my view: the ambiguous (and often unexamined) relationship between religion and death. Now this is touchy. It's touchy because of words. And between thoughts of god and girls, i have been wondering why. And a world of wondering is composed of words. Even now, a popular notion has emerged: that we think in words. As a boy, i was taught that god doesn't reveal himself, except through death. I was told the story of Moses shielding his eyes from the burning bush, as no man can look upon the face of god and live to blog about it. I was so scared of seeing god that i never thought to look for him/her/it. To me, heaven was a place full of dead people, and Jesus was right there too - cutting everyone's steak for them. But none of that answered my questions about life. If death means hanging out with god, then why isn't everyone off-ing themselves? I mean, who doesn't want to chill with god? If that were true, we would all be gladly stepping into our coffins as though they were a brand new sports car. Instead, we are terrified of death. Faux pas to even mention it. Someone has died? We must not speak of them...

Christianity, as i have understood it, takes what it can from death, appropriates it, and leaves the rest to spoil. Death is not given its proper treatment, when only taken as a metaphor: through sin, death entered the world; we are instructed to put to death the old man; the wages of sin is death. All that. Yes, wonderful images, but those are by no means explanations. From my reading in Herzog, Saul Bellow goes the distance by stating that god is death. And he goes on to make some interesting points, but points are made of words. Words that dead people wrote. Again, a powerful image with staggering implications, but aside from the associative notion that without knowledge of death, life isn't fully realized, is this a very productive view?

aside /

Best verse of the day: "...you don't own my favorite things. you don't own the whole wide world..." (Tom Brosseau)
T-shirt of the day: An awkward morning is better than a boring night.

2008-07-25T15:28:00.000-07:00

It does feel good to put one's head in one's hands. That bed of ten fingers. I do this sometimes, when my thoughts need a belt. And my thoughts have needed something lately. If not a belt, then suspenders, but something to contain them. Sure, i have my usual diversions. Sure, i have my many wives: a book, a song, a tree to look at in wonder. And these wives do comfort me, but only when i allow it. When i allow myself a little kindness. But why such devotion to suffering? Is this how we grow? Are we so resigned to these self-inflicted horrors that our friends must remind us to "take care." And when we tell our friends to "take care," are we really saying "don't go away," because we need them around to remind us to take better care of ourselves? And my way of taking better care of myself is by drinking more water. For when my friends are not around, nature is an ally. That deep and meaningful room with just a few furnishings. That simple place, where thought is a color that no language can render.

For Nico

2008-07-24T16:45:00.000-07:00

Right before the waffles arrived, when everyone else at the table had finished and the Metro Diner was in ordinary form, i thought about it. And Elliott was on one of his comedy rants, so nobody wanted to interrupt him because he was really taking us there. And i didn’t hear the last bit about the pretentious illiterate because of you. But not YOU, as in you, obviously, as you are very far away and the Metro Diner is on every corner in your neighborhood. But you in the past, I mean something you did often, but yes, it was in the past, although you would probably still do it if you lived here, and you probably do do it wherever you live now, i mean at the diners that are on every corner of your neighborhood, but not the Metro Diner. And right before the waffles arrived someone put a quarter in the jukebox and played "Take me to the River," and it reminded me of how you always played the best music when we ate there. but the Talking Heads in particular. Somehow you played tunes that neaded to be heard and tunes that meant something. But nobody wanted to interrupt Elliott, so i just spaced-out and considered your timing, which is good. And i think the French call that "savoir-faire," when people say or do the right thing at the right time and you have that - savoir-faire. And some of my favorite memories were made dancing to your record collection, but the talking heads in particular.

at the Granada

2008-07-24T16:37:00.000-07:00

...and it was practically begging to be used, but only a few people saw it. Maybe even less than that. But you were few people and so was the guy to your right. And i was behind you with something in my legs. Something that wanted out - oh, just this one little dance move that takes ankle strength. But i saw it too, and it was practically begging to be sung into. Betina was there, but i dont know if she saw it - the microphone, all begging to be used. If she did see it, she probably would have thought that microphones should only be used if someone has something to say, and you did. So did the guy to your right. But you didn’t say it, you sung it. And when Betina and i saw the two of you sing it, we kind of died a little, like the time on that stoop when it started raining while this good song was playing and the cigarette was practically begging to be smoked. So i was glad that you saw it, because i saw it too, but your singing voice is much better than mine and it was begging to be used too.

en route to Denver

2006-10-16T17:18:00.000-07:00

in the air, where airplanes are employed,
i am suddenly aware of myself
and the total number of people that i am /

in the sky, where birds rarely go these days,
there are hands that move at the speed
of the hands inside my head,

where thoughts rarely go these days /
and they tap on the shoulder
of my conscious mind /

and sometimes i turn to see
the crayola beauty that i would be
if my heart could teach my eyes to see

trembling teeth

2006-10-16T16:45:00.000-07:00

her feet don't blink /
and her clothes haven't smiled
in the last ten minutes /
but those eyes have been productive,
mixing cement and blasting through the earth
that lay between us /
her stare has a workforce of hungry wolves
who refuse to eat for fear of breaking
their trembling teeth /

chess eyes

2006-10-13T11:07:00.000-07:00

the lighting was so dim
blue, like the color of Coltrane's blood /
sundays have a quiet honesty to them /
the way the dog just lays there by the door /
the way shadows beg to be measured /
playing chess by the window,
with our day-dreaming eyes drawing straight lines,
like rooks without strategy or intention /

smoking indonesian cloves on the porch
i think about death on sundays
and the way so little changes without one person /
so little changes on sundays /
five thousand people died last week
in an earthquake in indonesia /
i kissed the curtains on austins eyes tonight
while he slept / his blue eyes were closed beneath
the sound of coltrane's favorite color

carmel by the sea

2006-10-13T10:58:00.000-07:00

when the first light arrived
we woke and dressed in motel silence and denim anticipation
like bohemian mercenaries who war with cameras and poetry
and we drove down to carmel by the sea
where we took out time breathing and feeling our way among the rocks
with thoughts that stood on a thousand legs
and arms wide-stretched with humble invitations

nature is merely a gesture; a handshake between two living unknowns
and my eyes were loving parents that april morning
welcoming every wave that came looking for land
like a sea of pilgrims; waves rolled in on liquid wagons
without motive or memory of where they had been
without concern because every inch of the ocean is home
and the morningstar announced its name that day
using a vocabulary of color and warmth
with trumpets that made captives of every living thing

passage back home

2006-10-13T10:36:00.000-07:00

if horses rode horses they would still be too late /
he said he would push me away
if the building were to fall on me /
push me to safety, but the love of a father for his son
is faster than a horse's horse,
and i would push him away /

for every building that is born,
there are two that are crumbling /
they seek to deconstruct themselves /
these buildings that were once something /
but there is no more life in their windows,
and they long for passage back home /
where they will become a graveyard unto themselves
and death is a tenant that always pays on time /

there were mountain ranges in the sky over downtown today /
wooden clouds that shed their wet leaves
and rubbed their soggy fingers on the
skin of sleepy buildings like me /
and my mind made nests from strange images that i gathered
of bankers counting their addictions on so many fingers /
and teachers learning for the first time the lessons
that they will teach later that day /

now i am home / hidden from the birds and the hungry bridges
that delivered me to this place along the fence,
where i can safely cross over the barbed-wire
of my trembling consciousness /
the synthetic nature that attempts to keep me from myself /
into that enchanted forrest of thought,
where the root structure of every moment
fans out like advanced civilizations and
i make paper antlers with my hands /

stella

2006-10-13T10:31:00.000-07:00

many men have made paper
from the trust and tears of trees
and many trees dream dreams
that become the pulp
that men build buildings with
and you are the lovely paper
that was planted in a garden
where dreams grow true

2006-06-20T23:29:00.000-07:00

Be careful what you photograph, because you will become what you photograph. Because become. Because become. Heather and Claude are in separate vehicles; they are driving down the road. To their left, the sun is setting fast, as though it were running late for dinner, where friends and music are waiting just beyond the horizon. Cows the size of small countries are resting beneath a tree, silently waiting for their turn to become hamburgers. Because become. In a moment, we are passing ten-thousand things: oil rigs, abandoned train depots, micro-surgical vasectomy reversal billboards, candy wrappers and the undulating landscapes of the Texas hill country. We are fast going. Everyone is traveling elsewhere. Heather cannot stop thinking about it. She will wear her white coat tomorrow with that turquoise necklace that she bought on her lunch break. She will prove that she is management material; she simply must. Weekends don't really happen if Fridays never end. Heather is passing ten-thousand things that she has never seen. Ten-thousand things that she will never see. With his left knee on the steering wheel and a camera in his lap, Claude makes small observations about the way the wild grass is leaning, and how the trees seem to be wondering why motorist are in such a hurry. That's when he sees it. Soon it will be permanently etched into the various films that rent space, both in his camera and in his mind. It took courage to see it and really see. Heather never saw Claude pull off the road to go walking among the grasshoppers. Heather and Claude are in separate vehicles, but Claude stopped to become a photograph. He obeyed the instinct to stop. Becoming ourselves is the greatest mode of being. Because become. Photographers stop.

ten-thousand doors

2006-03-14T17:35:00.000-08:00

Everything is a door. Doors that want to open; doors that want to stay closed. Every shade of paint in the paint store. With every sunrise comes ten-thousand doors: doors of progress; doors of distraction. And the evenings are filled with unexpected furniture: fabrics of unusual complexity that smell like honesty; cigarette-burned fabrics that beg to be touched, wanted or burned again. But best are the doors that lead to another door. And my favorite synonym for door is 'surprise.'

2006-02-23T21:27:00.000-08:00

Two cameras, one nose and a mouth. Observe the simplicity of a photograph. Here is an art form whose nature is at the very center of being. Pushing buttons, adjusting apertures and shudder speeds, determining depth of field, these are elementary functions. A toddler cutting teeth. No artistic requirements to speak of; not at this stage in the game. So what then? With photography, the intent of the photographer is what matters. The ideals represented; the behavior of the light; the relationship between forms, these are of infinite value, not the linear rendering of a tree or the spoon-fed smiles in a graduation photo. As observers, we discuss the values that are evident in a photograph. And likewise, photographs are a study in the posture and value of the photographer, in relation to their environment. The image, obedient to the vision of the viewer, does what the viewer cannot do in any substantial way - it constructs a physical record of the viewers view. Now this is what happens when the viewer is in harmony with the view: the eye behaves as a camera of sorts, etching images with light on the film of the mind. I can't seem to leave this alone just yet. The idea that we are cameras. The Camera Obscura. That our lives are landscapes photographs. The most realistic abstraction. That shutter speeds determine destinies. The cognitive dissonance of wearing a lens cap: for protection at times and ignorance at others. These are precious moments, each time each eye blinks. If only we had earlids.

THIS IS EVAN HORN

2006-02-03T12:24:00.000-08:00

I'm tempted to say, "thanks for stopping by," but in truth, no one is stopping here, they're just slowing down. There are not red lights in cyber space, only school zones. So, thanks for slowing down. Maybe you learned something in my school zone, maybe not. My classrooms aren't all-together big, and my teachers are often wise, but have bad teeth. Sometimes its difficult paying attention when there are glaring aesthetic flaws in the instructive mediums that surround us. But note, the morals that these mediums contain (read: represent) are of greater value than the messangers themselves, having fearless qualities of both adolescent truth and accidental timelessness. The light that I lean upon is honest, revealing subtle discolorations in idealogy and the perfect imperfections that occupy real estate on human skin. Taking a few steps back, the viewer will discover the extra dimensionality of a medium that is typically billed as being linear. Though the eyes see monochromatic color compositions and flat forms, the mind uncovers organic mysteries and architectural joy. This is the beginning of a new school zone, a place where children are the teachers and bearded men play the kazoo.

man pretending to be time

2006-02-03T09:44:00.000-08:00

Every moment is connected to the next. They are joined. They hold hands as they cross a street that stretches out - wrapping around dusty buildings, crawling beneath sweaty bridges, moving just beyond the fingertips of the mind. A man's life is that street. The street changes names, narrows and widens, rises and falls, becoming alleys in a moment and highways in another. Photography is merely interference. To separate so many hands in a sudden rush of unexpected bravado. To steal away with a moment intact. To replace that moment with himself is the photographers unconscious desire; to become time. This isolation is the substance of what the photographer pursues. But disconnected, the moment changes shape, becomes flat and reformed. A photograph is a simple narrative, an unspoiled sketch that speaks a thousand languages. It is pure, timeless, preserved. It acknowledges the familiar translation of time's basic truth: that the photographer is the art form and life is the artist.