That feeling you get

It was very late at night when I noticed. I had just sat down again, for the twentieth time it seemed, and there it was. I looked upon it, again and again, and I never really saw it. But then I did and I knew beauty. I dropped to my knees and cried until I could cry without crying. And then I looked up and saw it, in fragmented whole, I cried out, I sunk to my knees and sat. Before me I saw it and every person I had ever known, and my heart ached to touch them again. I saw every girl I thought of in love staring me in face. I felt the jubilation of a first hand held and the sorrow of what could have been that night too many nights ago. I felt the pang of the heartbreak of not being returned what I had given, but a choke of smile that was returned at every movement. I saw every person who I was scorn to, and guilt flooded my eyes, a self loathing of self I could not remove from my shoulders. I saw every loved one I had loved and I was scared that they were in the light and not facing it with me. The glow was so beautiful though I could not keep myself but to cry. So I cried again at the beauty of my anguish, awash in light. The thousands of lights crept to my fingers, pulling at me. I heard the laughter that makes you cry when you hear it, but all I could do was smile. And then I saw those people again and could not contain my joy. I shouted, I shouted until I could not shout myself down I was so loud. My voice rang out strong and loud and I could not hear myself except for my voice. I ran, jumped up, ran and yelled in joy, I smiled in euphoria and I cried fat tears of tears, not knowing their purpose. I ran up to each one person and yelled at them, and jumped with them and joyed with them. It was so happy I could not contain myself, so I yelled some more. They were all there happy with me, jumping and yelling loudly. I ran and jumped and cried and ran and cried and jumped and sat down in front of the light. It was blazing with the people, I was blazing with joy. I could not contain myself, my tears were so wet, I was jumping out of my tears, I was everywhere in emotion and everything in place, I felt the hanging feeling of falling and the weightlessness of a precipice. I stood on the edge of euphoria. Oh and I yelled. I yelled forever and then yelled and the sun yelled and the world and the light yelled and I was happy. So I fell back and laughed and smiled and thought of the light and the things I had done would do. So I laid back and laughed and yelled till I slept and I slept with the happiest dreams, the ones where you feel awake in life. Oh it was joyous to be alive in my dreams. It was joyous to live, to life. I was not afraid of the light anymore and of the sadness in tears. I wasn't afraid, I was happy and ready. So I yelled again and smiled again and laughed again and cried again and thought again and loved again and lived again.

The Gardener

Working hard at the cemetery
Could kill you.

Sometimes a leap of faith
Is just jumping into the dark.

It's not everyday that
It's today.

Whether for a lover or a funeral
Flowers will always die.

Don't let the light in
You might find shadows.

Taking the first step requires
Courage and legs.

Take the road less taken
And you'll find yourself
Lost.

Whitecaps

I sat by my window looking at the sky. I brought my hands forward, pulled into a kiss. Moments before, a peek, eyes closed, hands taut. That touch, glowing and pale, watchful and soft; my eyes trace a billowed curtain hanging from the windowpane. I turn off the lights and see your form from under the covers, lighting the corners of my face with pinpricks of light. A turn, soft. A touch, light. A breath, snug. A word spoken evaporates into an endless embrace. I sat by my window looking at you.

I sat by my window looking at you. You stood across the room, an outline wreathed in darkness, a curve beset by shadows, radiant in defiance. I saw your face, barely feature, hidden grace. But I could not take my eyes away from you. I traced a line across the sky, hoping I'd find your bed, hills quiet, sleeping. Upon your shoulder, moon, an atmospheric embrace. I gaze forward, and sideways, at once. Looking back, lonely room, lonely chair, only one. Moon, why are you here? Why take life into your furrowed brow, when life below lives between curtains, between sheets? A quiet nod, a slow return, between a blanket, a warm heart beats. Felt through the back, a dull thud-thud-thud. An arm drapes over the moon, felt from the front, a quiet thud-thud-thud. I pull closer, my lap between the sheets, your head, quiet, golden. I sat by my window looking at the stars.

I sat by my window looking at the stars. One-two. Clouds coddle cooly lit skies, casting shadows across sleeping eyes, lidded by slow whispers. Lonely traveller, traced across my view, must I touch you to find where you are? A prick, pins and needles, a shift towards a quiet back. Save for breath, twinkling, a spot of heart. I lay on my back, a blanket pins the world above me, an awning, catching the worst of winter's rain. Drops fall down, splash between slinking clouds. Umbrella, sheathed, raindrops on the windshield are stars late at night. I can only look at one star at a time, eyes tire from overexposure. But then for an instant, all taken as one, eyes blinded, beauty envelops my windowpane. Your reflection, eyes stars, moon, a dazzling display. Snug, between my arms, blanket skies. Moon when did you shatter into a million stars? Are they of you, or you of they? Gathered, bunches, Milky Way. I sat by my window looking at the sky.

You saw me sky, and I saw you . Graceful bareness, naked line. A moment frozen in memory, a star, frozen in time.

Cold Milk

I've been keeping a deck of cards by my desk the last few days. A deck of red cards and a deck of blue cards. They make quite the stack. I sometimes go through them, flipping each card over, one at a time. It's comforting knowing that the next card will be different, that I have no control. There's two cards missing from the red deck, a fact I frequently forget. Every once in a while I'll notice it and sit for a second, just trying to remember where I lost it. I never can, and frankly, it's quite frustrating. But that's what it's all about I guess, you can never remember where you lost it, just the fact that it's gone. I don't mind it, but the deck's never complete. Same with the blue deck, although it's missing different cards. People have told me it's pointless to play with an incomplete deck, much less two incomplete decks. I think that's a silly thing to say. I shuffle the two decks together ever now and then, blue and red. Once they're shuffled together, I can never tell which cards are missing, the red takes up the blue's loss and the blue takes up the red's. However, I never keep the decks together for very long, taking time to separate them fully into two piles. Sometimes I even order the decks, but it's all too organized. Even so, shuffling them is my favorite part. Separate piles fall onto each other, random order builds a deck. But the best is the shuffling of the two decks. It feels complete, two things coming together. All together now, oil and water. A complete deck?

Too bad I can never finish Solitaire.

Stuck-o

Someone told me the other day, "Man, I've got to let some of my walls down, I just gotta let people in." I don't get it. What are these walls people talk about? They're everywhere, apparently, in movies, on TV, in my friend's relationships and in mine. I have walls. Yes walls. I don't remember putting up the framing anywhere though, so they must be pretty flimsy. But yet, they exist and I have to consciously let people in. Or so people tell me. I have a feeling it's just a sort of collective cliche, something Friends or Melrose Place invented to screw up relationships. Now the guy down the hall is telling me he needs to "Let his girlfriend in?" I don't get it, walls are supposed to keep people out, it seems pretty counter-productive to build walls just to bring them down. I think the word everyone's looking for is drawbridge. Yeah, drawbridge, where you can let people in or keep them out and drop hot oil on them. Problem (that never existed) solved. But then again "I need to let down my drawbridge" sounds oddly sexual. Hmm, maybe door. "Baby can you open your door for me?" Ah forget it. It's all stupid in it's own stupid way. I feel bad for that guy, it's like suffering from a disease that doesn't exist but he's convinced himself he's caught. What happened to being in a normal relationship? And an unwalled one at that. Sometimes I feel I'm on the outside looking in; everyone's so caught up in everybody else that they forget who they are.

Talk about putting up walls.

Breaststroke

I still remember the first time I held your hand. It was a Sunday. Dawn. We had just met at the harbor. The waves were crashing against the jetty and the air was thick with spray and salt. It was bitterly cold, it had been a very cold December. But you hadn't even brought a coat. So I gave you my flannel. I remember letting you wear even when I had goosebumps from head to toe. To this day my clothes look better on you. We both stood there quiet and together while the sea churned below us. Standing in that morning mist, I found the boundary between myself and the world. I turned to look at you, eager to tell you of my revelations, I had just seen the world. I looked to you and it was lost. The wind snatched it from my arms, for I had stolen what was not mine. But suddenly, I had more than ever before. You were there and everywhere, a shape unknown. I looked into your eyes, brown, green, blue. Just like the sea. Just like the sea. I had always been afraid of the ocean. I still am. I told you something I don't remember even now. It didn't matter. The sun had risen, the first leg of its swim begun. We were together standing with the wind in our eyes and the sun on our ears. I knew I had found you, my flannel flapped in the breeze. I asked if you were cold. The sea thundered, then splashed, clapped, then receded. I don't think you ever replied, but I knew. The world was in front of us, dawn a feeling. I counted - one, two, three. I grabbed your hand. Spray clipped the sky. I held you for a moment, fingers traced lives. I didn't need my flannel anymore, I wasn't cold anymore. I wasn't alone anymore. I jumped.

Wandering

I feel like I should be writing something. Something with words that expresses something I feel. Something with something so that something is something.

Something. A loaded word, something. Endlessly changing to fit the situation. But something must live a lonely life. Something never has a residence besides someplace. Or a love for that matter, just someone. Someone. I think someone is worse than something, they're just a blank canvas that no one can appreciate. Everybody just loves that damn artist though. Hey someone, I like you. I think you're beautiful just as a placeholder and not with paint all over you. Would you like to talk about something someone? Or if you're tired of something, we could talk about everything. When? I don't know sometime? Yes that sounds nice. Let's go someplace sometime somewhere and talk of something. Or everything.

Everything. Does everything exist? That's a lot of things - too much for me. Well, now that I think about it, I guess I could get used to everything, but I'd need everywhere to store it. But everything everywhere wouldn't fit well - there'd be no room for me. Everywhere by itself sounds nice though, excluding everywhere that's not nice. So scratch everything and keep everywhere. What about everyone? Oh God no, everyone? That would be horrible, I think I like someone more than everyone. Everyone is loud. Someone is nice in a nice way. Someone everywhere sometime. Maybe I'll write about that. So what's missing? I'll check.

Who: Someone

What:

Where: Everywhere (excluding everywhere I don't like)

When: Sometime

Ah, What. I've got nothing for What. Hold on. Nothing. That's another one. Nothing just might be the weirdest one too. How can nothing exist if its nothing? Define nothing and I'll find something in it. Maybe nothing can exist nowhere never. Yes I think that's right. But nothing somewhere? Sometime? Every time? That's absurd. Nothing and nowhere and no one and never all need each other to exist. Kinda romantic in a ironic way. No one is never lonely because he has nothing never to keep him company. The nothings keep to themselves. If they even exist that is. All oblivion and nothing. But I guess nothing can be something can't it? Like talking about nothing? Hey, I like talking about nothing sometimes. And on top of that, I like talking about nothing with someone because talking about nothing with myself gets redundant. Oh and I can talk about nothing everywhe... hold on a second. Eureka! I've got it!

Who: Someone

What: Nothing

Where: Everywhere (see above)

When: Sometime

Well, problem solved. I've got my topics. Time to write about someone sometime everywhere with nothing! Sounds about write. I mean right.

Right. Funny word.

Where was I?

Old Time's Sake

My drink's empty again. Damn, what time is it?

"Only the lonely,

know the way I feel tonight..."

I should be going, why did I even come? Pat and her pity-invite. Why the Hell did I think I'd enjoy this, I haven't talked to anyone all night - I've just stood here totally disengaged. But it's not like I've had the best company. Haha. Look at them, everyone an idiot, talking, laughing, living. They don't know anything about any of that - I'm the only one who knows what it's really like. "Tonight on National Geographic, David Attenborough examines the social habits of the modern human." Haha, what a bunch of losers.

"Only the lonely,

know this feeling ain't right..."

Shit, it's Rob. Please don't walk ove-

"Oh hey Rob."

"Preston man, what's up?"

"Oh y'know usual shit. Something cliche like that."

"Tell me about it."

Tell you about it? Pfft. You don't know the first thing about "it" asshole.

"How are you and Patricia?"

"Broke up last week."

"Aw, shit man, I'm sorry"

No you're not. I watched you flirt with her at every bloody party.

"Well, me and the boys are going bowling tomorrow, you should come with. Guys night."

I'll keep out of your man-love club, prick. Thanks. Now go get another drink.

"Sorry Rob, I gotta work late."

"Haha, alright Preston. Hit up the cell if you wanna hang man. Later."

God I need a drink.

"There goes my baby.

There goes my heart..."

Man, what's wrong with me? Do I really hate all these people? Shit am I depressed. I can't even relate to normal people. I'm leaving. Can't stand another minute of this. Car keys, phone, watch. Check. Alright. Here's to you, you happy people, I'm off to sit home alone with another record on. Just like every Saturday night.

"They're gone forever,

so far apart..."

8:00AM. Damn I'm late. Oh shit. I knew I drank too much. Goddamn-it, I can't go to work like this. Might as well sleep it off, Patricia's party is tonight. I need to be on my game. I need to win her back.

"But only the lonely,

know why I cry..."

God, my drink's empty again. What time is it?

"Only the lonely..."

Cigar Box

It takes a long time to get used to living. I'm not sure we ever do. I think that's why we die, we just get tired of not getting living.

Cable Knit

End

I've always had a fascination with how words work together. But in the most literal way.

I love the idea of words that work literallytogether, hugging eachother forwarmth.

Or on the flip side, words that de test their com patriots and seek their own in depend ence.

It's disconcerting, but intriguing, a world disjointed . Would we read Shakespeare differently if the words "Romeo" and "Juliet" were several spaces apart, mirror ing their event ual and e ternal sep ara tion? Would their love have more meaning if their names werethrowntogether, aliteral expose onthe lovethattranscends death, thelove thatkeeps oneforeverin the other'sembrace? What about a blend of the two? to confu se, todiscon cert , makingus fi nd our ownpath, makingus search fortehid den meaning tuckedin the innoc oulousspace ingofharm less clauses. Whynot tcompound the entire ideawith the

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Chapter one.

the

Tree Tops

Being alone is something I find myself preconditioned too. I am alone when I find the most inspiration, I am alone when I find nothing but myself, and I am alone as I walk these emerald hills. My burden is light, but my footsteps are heavy. My eyes look to the horizon, but my head hangs low. Nothing guides me but the speck of light in front of me. Where I am going I cannot say. Why I am going is a question my mind cannot see. My feet desperately churn back and forth, they are not savvy to my course, they are trying to escape. They seem foreign to me, hands searching for something, finding nothing. But I'm not searching, my eyes gave up on that a long time ago.

My course is straight, my destination just beyond this next hill. But the sun is setting, and the world has become a shifting mass of muted colors. The night has come - I tell myself the course is still straight. But as I shift my pack, I prepare for the jarring chicanes and the spartan switchbacks of twilight. My feet jig with excitement. They are in control now. My eyes can no longer find their way, the night is tied to my heart. The tide takes me in its embrace, I ebb with the grace of seaweed, my feet buoyed by the clear water. They are calm now, powerful in their control, precise in their kicks. I swim, drowning on the air in my lungs. But I am at peace, for I know the beach is just over this next wave. This next wave.

The sun rises, dawn tugs upon my mind. Cobwebs, strung across my conscience, evaporate into the fine mist of morning. The orb has not forsaken me for another, her voice reassures me - she was there through it all. Land returns to my feet, soil trickles through my toes. Hills climb before me, chasing the horizon. Eyes open, my blood flows, warmness a pinprick upon my stiff limbs. The new day has come, a blank canvas, anxious for brush of rebirth. Am I to be the artist? Is this what lies in my pack? I turn, meaning to open it. There is nothing there. But I can still feel it. It feels heavier. My feet kick, they seem more rebellious than before. My mind shifts, questions teetering on the edge. I shiver from the bite of morning. My feet churn forward; today will not be the day I stop, for I know my destination is just over the hill. I can make it.

An open sea is like an open door, both are limited by the threshold.

Cute Beanie

Metaphorically speaking, I like realism.

In reality, I like frankness.

Frankly, I quite like metaphors.

But that's just it isn't it? Everything falls back on itself. Everything comes back to you. There's nothing but you. Can you handle that? Or must your burden be on another's back? Mine is, but I lost them back at the fork in the road. Hopefully we meet up again soon, I'd really like my burden back. Woah, did you see that? Just now, it zoomed by. It was a double entendre. Wish you'd seen it. Oh hell, now I've lost my train of thought.. Oh yes, something about burdens. Ehh, too heavy of a subject. Look at that one! I swear this is a wit-shower, I just saw a pun-meteorite fly by. You saw it? What was your wish? Fine don't tell me, I don't want to know anyways.

The Founders met today - down in Ladera. Plans are going according to schedule. I can't wait for the towers to go up, they'll be such a nice addition to the landscape, and the people. I just hope it doesn't affect the piped-in frog noises, they help me sleep. At least when I'm sleeping in Ladera. Which is never. But you get what I mean right? Thank goodness you're so understanding.

Red Velvet Cake is good. And Chocolate. And Vanilla. All three for that matter, mixed of course. Where my Oreos at?

School wouldn't be the same without my power pole friends. They look so inviting and so protecting. Like two friends on night-watch at the campfire. Actually, I think I could watch fire forever, it's like looking into someone's soul. Flames lick the night sky, ashes curl lazily, embers glow contentedly, and the fire falls back on itself. But no matter what, there's always heat.

Actually, they're more like two English royal guards - minus the fuzzies.

Shadow Puppets

Stop saying you've changed. You never will. It's annoying - "New Resolutions" are the crutches and excuses of the lazy. You haven't changed at all, from what my records say you're still same ol' Mrs. P Sherman. So cut it and roll with the punches. Oh and by the way, I'm the only one allowed to quote lyrics, cause I wear cardigans.

Black and white, stream of consciousness writing, The Whitest Boy Alive. Logical fallacies, straw men and the TAR-21. Haircuts, Vans, triglycerides. Kafka, Steinbeck, Colin A. Adams, and Theodore Roosevelt. Chainsaws, email, other people's blogs, The Fundamental Theorem.

I can't be explicit with you, then I wouldn't have anything to hide behind. But I want to tell you everything.

Dancing is bliss, even with scuffed shoes.

It's currently 45° in Newark

*ring*

...

*ring*

-"Hullo?"

-"Mrs. Patterson?"

-"Speaking."

-"It's me. It's the cro-"

*click*

"Mrs. Patterson?"

"Mom?"

I knew you'd never pick up, you hate talking on the phone, specially to me. You say it's cause I mumble. I say it's cause you've got nothing to say. But then again, neither do I.

Why do I keep calling?

The bedtime stories are becoming real again. The crocodile won't stop smiling, his teeth are ever so big and his scales are ever so bright. Dr. Stanley isn't here to protect me and the crocodile won't stop smiling. He just won't.

Why do I keep calling?

Now he's moved, underneath the dresser. His eyes, two yellow orbs, just stare. And he won't stop smiling. I guess Dr. Stanley has gotten too old for this bedtime story. Crocodiles don't age, but I do. Does this mean I'm going to live with the crocodile forever? Will he ever stop smiling?

I know why I keep calling.

You know where Dr. Stanley is, don't you?

Why won't you tell me?

The crocodile won't stop smiling. Teeth, eyes, moon, sky - such a soothing lullaby.

I've fallen asleep now. Finally I'm safe - smiles don't exist in my dreams.

I remembered a poem I thought I had forgotten a long time ago - you used to tell it to me whenever I couldn't sleep:

Breath deep
The gathering gloom
Watch lights fade
From every room
Bedsitter people
Look back and lament
Another day's useless
energy spent

Impassioned lovers
Wrestle as one
Lonely man cries for love
And has none
New mother picks up
And suckles her son
Senior citizens
Wish they were young

Cold hearted orb
That rules the night
Remove the colours
From our sight
Red is gray and
Yellow white
But we decide
Which is right
And
Which is an Illusion

The crocodile always leaves in the morning.

I smile.

Good Morning George

It's been a while, that's for sure. I've been meaning to write to you, but it's been hard with everything happening around here, what with the Hydrangeas just coming into bloom and Ethan going back to school - it's as if life doesn't want this letter to be written. But Ethan's just gone down for his nap and Tito is out for the afternoon, so I've got plenty of time to write of the goings-on around the Kennan household.

Like I mentioned, Ethan's just gone back to school, with much gusto I might add, and comes home everyday with a head full of thoughts and eyes full of colors. He reminds me so much of you, right down to his wry smile and sandy hair. He's got Nana's eyes though, you can never quite pin down the color. Tito took him out to the coast the other day and when they came back, Ethan showed me all the things he had collected - abalones, crown snails, alabaster coral and a curious piece of sea-glass. I still have that necklace you know, it hangs from my dresser - it catches the light beautifully in the morning. Speaking of which, it's quite apparent Ethan's going to follow in his father's footsteps as a man of the sea - but hopefully he will lack the recklessness you seem to flaunt so well. But let's not talk of our problems, they seem so petty now that Ethan has been born.

I received your package just last week; it must've been a right horror trying to get such a large shell shipped all the way from the Seychelles. Ethan loves it, as do I - it now adorns the little coffee table in the east nook. I haven't had much time to read the manuscript that came with it though, mostly just the opening chapters, but I have made some sketches of the photos you've taken, and I asked Tito to take them to the publisher for approval.

I remember when you took me to the Seychelles - it was just yesterday wasn't it? I've never seen such clear water, such blue skies, God they're better than the weather here. Sometimes I just can't stand these Cape Cod winters, the sky is an eternal shade of grey and the wind howls through the bay windows most every night - Tito had to nail them shut last weekend, the latches wouldn't hold. But it's probably best I'm not there with you, there's too many memories. I still think about that summer you know. I try not to, but every once in a while I find some trinket we bought and those days just come back to life. Just writing this letter reminds me of our correspondence we had back then. But I didn't write this letter to reminisce, at least that's what I keep telling myself.

Oh, that's Ethan's waking up, he'll be calling for me in a moment. Time to end this letter - I hope this finds you and the crew in good health. I'd ask you to write back, but I doubt you'll have the time anytime soon. Sorry if I rambled, but that's the status quo with me isn't it?

Goodbye George,

Jess

The Sea Ts A Good Place To Think Of The Future

I never know what to write about anymore. Snippets here and there, lack of punctuation. I'm scared I might start writing like my teachers are telling me to. So I'm left with this; what the cobwebs have produced, save it for a rainy day - or an angsty one.

Life-vests all gone

Rescue boats returned home

I cringe at the fact

That I'm not alone

Cause you're here still watching

Your hands have gone limp

God how I wish

You'd give me the slip

You cared for me

We both know it's true

I wasn't that guy

Couldn't care for you too

I'm wild and free

But now alone on this boat

And let's both be honest

We know it can't float

Just look at it now

It's gonna capsize

I start the doggy paddle

Tears fill your eyes

I didn't try

I know I failed

I was gone with this ship

Wind in its sails

Yet you sit there wishing

I might make it back

I already feel

The weight of my pack

There's nothing inside

But the burden of love

Wasted and squandered

Fate fits like a glove

I'm ready to go

My tickets been bought

The tide pulls me deeper

Your eyes bloodshot

You can't stop watching,

"Curse this demise!

Please rise like the rays

Of an early sunrise"

But the sea is thing

That cannot be stopped

It moves ever forward

Like hands on a clock

I sink to the bottom

Alone with my tears

I look up and watch

Your slow wave from the pier

I know you are sad

I know what I've done

I hope you can live

I hope you love

Don't cry for me dear

Too many tears shed

Dirges are writ

Eulogies said

And my breath escapes

To the salty abyss

I begin my march

My final trip

My soul has now parted

With my earthly being

Rise to the surface

I live without feeling

I pass you sitting

Now truly alone

Your hands are still limp

Eyes turned to stone

You think I am gone

Up to the sky

But I can't leave now

I've left you behind

So I sit with you

We on the pier

I hope you know

That I'm still here

I will never leave you

Not like before

We'll both sit here

Alone on the Shore

Spanish Brownstone

Hello again my ever so faithful and patient readers - it has been too long since we've talked! A lot has gone on since we last conversed, and I believe I owe you an update. Good thing I've got quite a cozy spot out on the verandah with some Arizona and Vampire Weekend playing. So find a comfortable place to sit, cause this is probably going to be quite a doozy of a post (unless I get hungry and leave). Let's begin shall we?

Much to my shock, the last time we talked was quite a time ago, before even the Moody Blues show! Well I guess I'll start then. The show was at the wonderful Pacific Amphitheater next to the O.C Fair and our seats were killer to boot! My Dad and I were as giddy as schoolchildren as the show began under a beautiful sunset. The show kicked off with some Tuesday Afternoon - one of my favorites - that got all the over 50's dancing (including my mother and father, O Brother!). As the night wore on they played quite a few songs I didn't know but were rocking as usual. They closed with a trio of songs that made the night: Nights in White Satin, Ride My Seesaw, and my dad's favorite, Question. We left exhausted and hoarse; it was one of the best concerts I've been to.

Next on my summer outings plate was a excursion to the Getty with a bunch of folks. We were lucky and missed the forecasted thunderstorms, but encountered intense humidity instead. Either way the day was wonderfully hectic; most of the group was content to roam the gardens chatting merrily while small groups of us pondered the finer points of Monet, Gauguin and Degas. We all had a fun time sipping iced drinks, making masks, taking pictures of ourselves and the beautiful scenery, and laughing quite merrily. The day ended with a delightful concert on the grass that elicited dancing from the more energetic of the group (including me) while the little ones slept soundly. After a long ride back to SJH in the "van" we all trucked over to Beachfire in Ladera and after a rousing game of tag at one end and a dance party at the other, we all sat down to eat. On a whim we decided to tell the waiters it was Tala's birthday in hopes of (free) cake. About halfway through the meal we watched as some "tough" looking dudes in hairbands and leather took the stage - we wondered what the devil was going on. Much to our delight the "tough" looking dudes were members of "Lipstick and Leather" an 80's revival / hair metal band whose lead singer was a hot mess of a 40 yr old woman. After much initial laughter, we decided to give the band some support (sarcastically or not, I'm not sure) and most of us rocked out in the extra space around the table - I think they were quite chummed that someone actually liked them. I promptly lost my voice after some Bon Jovi, Heart and Quiet Riot singalongs; nothing can beat "You Give Love a Bad Name" after a few too many Diet Cokes! About halfway through their set we shouted over them with a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday" as Tala received her "birthday" cake. Needless to say we rocked out a bit more afterwards before dispersing for the night - I was one tired kiddo!

BEGIN SS09 GUSHING

Preface: I'm gonna go into way more detail than necessary, reader beware.

Next up was the crowning achievement of my summer - Street Scene 09. I had been looking forward to the event since probably March of this year, I remember Conner and I jumping up and down giddily when we first saw the lineup. I was even more excited as more and more people decided to go too, especially after the epicness of the Dana Point "Lovedown". However, disaster hit the night before for Hillary and all of our plans crumbled; Conner, Zeke, Ryan, Lexi and I were the only ones that ended up going :(. Even so, very little could get me down as we drove to San Diego, how can one be down with Modest Mouse, Cake, Devendra Banhart, Matt&Kim and Extra Golden on the horizion? Unfortunately we missed most of Extra Golden as the tram to the event was late but I was too excited for DB to care. (I guess I'll go band by band at this point to be more organized)

Day 1

Devendra Banhart / 5:50-6:35

The sun hung lazily in the sky as Devendra walked on stage - I squealed with excitement. He began by telling us he had just broken a rib the night before (at which the guitarist quipped "You should see the other guy,") and wouldn't be dancing much. The crowd cheered him for showing and swayed as he began a breezy "Little Yellow Spider" followed by a fun "Long Haired Child." After a few other songs and a song by his bandmate (which was quite good) they debuted a new song called "Rats" that had a killer guitar riff that had the audience bobbing away. He closed with "Carmensita" which I danced to as Conner and I walked over to Holy Fuck - we watched for 5 minutes before leaving for Matt&Kim.

Matt&Kim / 7:15-7:55

We all met up early for Matt&Kim and stood pretty close to the stage, while the crowd behind us grew to one of the biggest of the night (and full of hot hipster girls to boot!). They came out to huge cheers and promptly kick-started the crowd. When they got to Yea Yea the crowd was pumped and went absolutely crazy when the chorus hit. After 5k and Good Ol' Fashioned Nightmare they asked the crowd to form a circle pit for the last two songs. The crowd obliged quite quickly and we were engulfed in sweaty hipsters. I had never had so much fun with music and I was about to collapse as they closed with Daylight. I came out of Matt&Kim with a brand new outlook on live music and they quite possibly had the set of the night. Zeke and I stayed for the opening of Deerhunter but left hungry for Cake (PUN! - I'm glad I was able to work that in somewhere) around 8:20.

Cake / 8:30-9:30

The crowd was huge for these guys, deservedly so, but were most likely sorely disappointed by the set. Cake was late and the lead singer was grumpy and negative - something that isn't associated with their mostly upbeat music. After a couple of good songs they got into the hits, but with little enthusiasm - Zeke and I left early to get close for Modest Mouse. Disappointment of the entire two days for sure and I'm wary to see them again.

Modest Mouse / 9:35-10:35

I joined the Modest Mouse bandwagon a little late, and this quasi-ignorance was the downfall of the set for me. The energy of Issac Brock was amazing but I couldn't get into the show as much as other bands where I've known little of their material. This paired with a group of sloppy drunks and the incredible press of the crowd left much to be desired from me, but I still immensely enjoyed what songs I did recognize.

After a somewhat disappointing couple of sets and Conner's apparent sickness, we decided to beat the traffic and left around 11. (Holy smokes this blog is getting long - 1 more day to go!)

Highlight (tie): Matt&Kim's Circle Pit / Devendra Banhart's "Rats"

Disappointment: CAKE ):

Day 2

We arrived promptly at 4:00 on Saturday and had time to kill before the Ra Ra Riot set, so we cruised the shops and I picked up Matt&Kim, Of Montreal, and Street Scene t-shirts (my closet is entirely band shirts now...). At 5 we headed over to see Ra Ra Riot, another band I had little previous knowledge of.

Ra Ra Riot / 5:10-5:45

I only knew about 2 of Ra Ra Riot's songs but I was pleasantly surprised by their set, especially the strings which wafted lazily through the summer air. I decided to leave early on my own for one of my favorite solo acts right now, Zee Avi.

Zee Avi / 5:30-6:15

Although her set was plagued with sound problems her performance was great and had quite a bit of the crowd (incl. me) dancing with her carefree songs and sweet voice. I was in the greatest of moods as I joined the others on their way to Of Montreal.

Of Montreal / 6:40-7:25

Undoubtedly my most looked forward to show of the night (and probably the entire event), Conner, Zeke and I got to Of Montreal about an hour or so early - we were gonna be at the front of this show no matter what. We were successful in getting close but had to wait 30 minutes for Public Enemy to finish, those gosh-darn rappers. When Of Montreal finally came out everybody went crazy and we danced like maniacs through "Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse" "Id Engager" and "Bunny Ain't No Friend of Mine". Much like Matt&Kim the crowd's and James' energy made the night - the crowd was one big dance party that jumped and cheered insanely, it was a experience I won't soon forget. By the end of the show the entire front half of the crowd was a wet mess from all the dancing and water - but by golly it was worth it. I left as exhausted and happy as a human can be.

No Age / 9:10-9:50

After the Of Montreal set we all passed out for about 30 minutes before getting ourselves ready for a show incredibly likely to make us pass out (again), No Age. We got there a little early and got all the way up to the front - our ears were ready to be destroyed.. No Age opened with Boy Void if I remember correctly and the crowd got into it quick. By about halfway through the set, the crowd had gone way crazy, surfing and moshing like crazy - Conner and I had to get out to preserve our lives. But when the opening chords to Eraser kicked in we went right back into the middle of the pit. And I know I've said this twice now, but Eraser was a life-changing (cliche!) song for me - I just let myself go with the music and flailed like a fucking retard, completely surrounded by the song. After the song ended I had to be lifted out by a huge Mexican guy because I was about to pass out in the middle of the pit, I have never been so exhausted in my life. Again at the point of near death, we stumbled away, passed out and drank in the sweet sounds of Jack White's guitar as he finished his set with The Dead Weather (which was epic).

Delta Spirit / 10:30-11:15

Opting not to go to the M.I.A show (I was sure it would be a disappointment), I headed over to the Green Stage with Zeke to check out one of my favorite bands, Delta Spirit. As soon as they started, I shifted into another gear of energy and danced like a madman to "People C'mon" and "Strange Vine" - it was musical bliss. At this point they kicked their set up a notch and really rocked HARD. The whole crowd was grooving like crazy and I was lucky enough to find a beautiful girl to dance with through the middle of their set. After talking to the crowd a bit (they hadn't been paid yet!), they closed with Trashcan - one of my favorites - and I got one more opportunity to dance in the moonlight. The crowd sung along loudly throughout "Trashcan" and asked for more, but apparently the organizers had to shut them down. Either way I was giddy as a school-kid, and turned around to talk to the girl I had been dancing with but she had left by this point ): I guess I finally experienced what Blink-182 was talking about with "The Rock Show".

After Delta Spirit, we watched M.I.A and Basshunter for a bit but weren't too impressed/really tired - we left around 11:45. I blabbed about how amazing it was the whole way home but promptly passed out as soon as I hit my bed. Probably the best 2 days of my musical life.

END SS09 GUSHING

After SS09 I rushed to finish the rest of my AP homework (ugh, except APUSH which I loved) and had a jolly time with my friends a couple of times - Bonfire! Besides that I've been doing a lot of thinking, sometimes about really important stuff (love, life etc) and other times about random things (what's the point of button-fly jeans?). But yeah, I've run out of steam, and I'll preserve your eyes for school (tomorrow!) and stop here. There's probably other things I wanted to say but, bah I'm over it. I hope you enjoyed your summer too my readership, and I hope to see you soon! I'll leave you with a 30 sec clip of Of Montreal's Id Engager (:

The Great Vinyl Adventure Update 2 + Misc

You there! Yes you! It's been ages hasn't it! You haven't forgot about me have you? Oh thank goodness, I was afraid you had moved on (you probably should have). I'm so glad that we're both back! You must be curious about what I've been up to. No? Oh shush, I'm telling you anyways.

The Great Vinyl Adventure has officially become a utter (moo) failure. Why you ask? Well my needle arrived, but without a tip! The nerve of Ebay I tell you, the nerve! It has been quite distressing, Graceland and Abbey Road look to me desperately as a fine coat of dust has begun to coat them. "Ian you beast!" you exclaim, "How could you forsake your poor records!" I know, I know I've postponed this pet project twice now, and sometime in the future I will listen to them; cross my heart. But moving on! I can't think of such depressing topics any longer!

I will be seeing The Moody Blues (who?) this Wednesday and by golly, I'm going to give you a play by play of just how awesome it was. No need to thank me, I enjoy spoiling you so.

Going forward, I have a few niggling ideas for the future of this blog; I think maybe I'll start a Monty Python or Arrested Development feature, and quite possibly a random expose on whatever the heck I feel like (I'm so independent it's ridiculous) . So look for those in the future, and yeah, I don't have any sort of ending to this paragraph, so just look down. (awkward)

I've got another weekly roundup for you! You thought I would just leave you high and dry without any sort of sustenance, didn't you? How little you think of me, you rapscallion!

Article(s) of the "Week:
Spoonerisms - Wikipedia - Bacefook is my favorite spoonerism
Sheeple - XKCD

Song(s) of the Week:

This song hits so hard - I miss piano in WS songs


French is the most badass language EVER, especially in music.

Look of the Week:
The Satorialist

Random Thought(s) of the Week:
I cannot wait to see 500 Days of Summer. I mean, Zooey Deschanel alone makes this movie worth seeing (Can you tell who my favorite actress is?), but Zooey Deschanel in a non-linear romantic comedy? Hell to the yes.

On a side note, it really depressed me to learn that you pronounce Zooey, "Zoo-y"
Update: Wikipedia always saves me! Zooey is pronounced just like Zoey, phew!

So that's all that I've got for now.
Till next time!

The Great Vinyl Adventure - Update + Misc

Hello again, my ever so faithful readers; how are you this wonderful holiday weekend? I'm fine, thanks for asking. Well, you might be hoping I'd have picked and listened to my first record by now, but I'm sorry to say I haven't been able to. "But Ian," you say, "you promised you would listen to a record this weekend!" I know, I know, my humblest apologies; but in my defense, I have a legitimate excuse! As I was setting up my dad's old record player, I discovered the ancient beast's needle was broken. Alas, my father had no replacements buried anywhere, so I had to drop $20 to buy a new one off Ebay. This unfortunate setback will last until sometime this week, probably Wednesday, and then I promise (again) I will listen to a record and let you know just what I think of it. My apologies.

But even though I don't have any real articles to speak of, I do have some tidbits I'd like to share with you, a weekly roundup (roundup always makes me think of weeds sadly), if you will.

Article of the week:
Stephen Hawking: The Planet Has Entered a New Phase of Evolution

Song(s) of the Week:

Perfect summer song, makes me wanna visit Jamaica.


I can't wait for them at Street Scene. Gahhh.

Look of the Week:
Lookbook

Random Thought of the Week:
I need to reread Harry Potter 6/7:
6 was amazing if I remember correctly and I need to read it before the new movie comes out! (dunno why I'm excited for that, they're mostly disappointments)
And 7 because I don't really remember much of it, other than it was kind of a disappointment.

Well now that concludes today's ramblings, till next time!

The Great Vinyl Adventure

You thought I wouldn't post again didn't you? Hah! Seems I've proved you wrong. Well here it is, my first real feature, "The Great Vinyl Adventure"! What is it you ask? Well let me take you back, back to yesterday...

My parents have always had a great taste in music, my dad was, and still is, a hard rock nut and is proud to have been to dozens of Led Zeppelin, Cream and Moody Blues concerts. My mum on the other hand is a little more singer-songwriterish; Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel etc. As a result, I've been raised on some pretty classy music. Over the years, I had heard about my parents "vinyl stash", but I had never had the gumbo to go digging for it. Enter summer boredom. Yesterday, after my second round of Cops reruns (I find it ironic how addicting that show is), I decided to find this mythical "stash". After about an hour of huffing and puffing I finally pulled out a beaten up cardboard box labeled "Vinyl". Hurrah! Inside were hundreds of vinyl records (no wai!) just ready for listening. After some dusting off and decision-making I picked 23 albums to listen to over the summer. In my infinite wisdom I thought, "Goodness wouldn't it be nice to share my experiences with my humble reader(s)?" And thus, "The Great Vinyl Adventure" was born!

So, each week whenever I feel like it, I'll share my thoughts with you about each one of these (mostly) classic albums and whether it sounds any better than the versions you can buy online. I'll probably start listening to one tomorrow, any suggestions on which album to start with? Here's the list of the 23 albums I picked:

Abbey Road - Beatles
Back in Black - AC/DC
Imagine - John Lennon
Graceland - Paul Simon
Led Zeppelin I - Led Zeppelin
Live (Killers) - Queen
The Best of Bread - Bread
Don McLean - Don McLean
The Song Remains the Same - Led Zeppelin
The Wall - Pink Floyd
Heartbreak City - The Cars
Beck, Bogert & Appice - Beck, Bogert & Appice
One Trick Pony - Paul Simon
Rio - Duran Duran
Friend or Foe - Adam Ant
Days of Future Passed - The Moody Blues
Presence - Led Zeppelin
Freeze Frame - The J. Geils Band
Built For Speed - Stray Cats
Led Zeppelin II - Led Zeppelin
Business as Usual - Men at Work
Tea for the Tillerman - Cat Stevens
Greatest Hits - Queen (I had actual albums but they were still sealed so no go)

Till next time!