I made the trip down to Coney Island on Sunday for the final day of Astroland existence.
While in New York City this week I decided to stop by the American Museum of Natural History. In the Anne and Bernard Spitzer Hall of Human Origins I encountered this disturbing installation showing a simpler time when we were vulture-fearing, antelope-guarding bipeds… like actors caught in the changing room on the set of Planet of the Apes.
but what interested me more than the dioramas were the interplays between visitors to the museum and the displays.
I felt like a little kid- seeing dinosaurs, meteorites, clothing and objects from faraway cultures… excited and intrigued.
Today I received the Byrne/Eno leak of their song “Strange Overtones.” The mp3 has been released as a bit of word-of-mouth publicity for the duos upcoming Everything That Happens Will Happen Today tour. This was the e-mail sent with the music file:
Thanks sincerely for your interest in our new album, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today.
It’s with great pleasure we offer you a sneak peak of the album by sharing a free MP3 called “Strange Overtones”. When you click the image below, we’ll give you access to the free download and we’ll also add you to our mailing list to receive future announcements from David Byrne and Brian Eno. We will not use your email address for any other purpose.
What else, really would you use my email address for?
-Watch R-rated movies on Hulu.com
-Send letters pretending to be me.
-Start a slanderous MySpace about me?
I suppose these are risks I am willing to take. But if you should receive any Spam, any scathing emails with superb grammar, or chain letters… just assume that David rethought his promise not to use my email address for any other purpose.
Perhaps another chance to take notice of my open letter.
Now accepting- dates to David Byrne/Brian Eno Concerts. Will travel.
The last few months have brought me back home by way of Rochester NY, Nashville and Knoxville TN, New York NY, Brookline and Boston MA. I have since curated an exhibition, played in my first pub-stage rock concert, peed in 8 different states, drank wine made in a South Philly basement, played catch up with handfuls of old friends, chased jobs and girls and my own tail, won $15 in a game of poker, read a few books, thought a lot about contemporary publishing, was amazed by Antonio López García, ate raw vegan food, realized that the world is smaller than it seems, danced in a supermarket aisle, found out that no matter how hard I try to fake it I’m still too shy, saw a total of 134 live music performances, checked missed connections 4 times, sent out a handful of postcards, saw one of the most misguided exhibitions at the Met, and buried something in the ground for someone else to find.
And now, I am back in Pennsylvania waiting to hear back about a job and the next addition to the list.
I am a bit exhausted but trying to power through it. Still trying to embrace the beauty of a fall in perpetuity. Enjoyed Philadelphia’s First Friday and an after-art trip to Sugar Mom’s.
Sometimes unexpected things come in the mail- like sponge animals.
On conservative estimate the average person takes a bout 3,000 steps per day; that means that each day one experiences 3,000 tiny, controlled falls. Every time you take a step, you lean forward and fall slightly, and are caught by your outstretched foot. If you failed to put your foot forward, you would fall flat on your face. After your foot touches the ground, your body’s weight is transferred to it and your knee bends to absorb the shock. The front leg then lifts the body and propels it forward as the rear leg swings up to catch you again, and the cycle repeats.
Above some artists (left to right: Marc Chagall, Li Wei, Kerry Skarbakka, Denis Darzacq, Sam Taylor Wood, Stanley Forman) provide their observations on that moment where the body is dislocated from its connection to the ground. Unlike the myclonic jerks of sleep flight or falling, these pieces show the grace and fluidity of bodies removed from the ceiling and floor of relative gravity. The Icarusian desire to fly with such seeming grace undercuts its impossibility and the dangers of impact. Regardless, they are fleeting moments of serene beauty, the kind of falls we almost let ourselves take 3,000 times a day.
Trying to embrace the beauty of a fall in perpetuity.
I had spent a week in NYC before leaving for a three-week stay in Boston. Beantown brought with it the chance to catch up with some friends and provided what was tantamount to hospice care for someone like me, dying in the “real world.” It also provided some quiet days, allowing me to write, create… and wonder- what would Nair do to a grown man? In an effort to find an answer (former foreign correspondent) Aviv bravely disrobed and valiantly volunteered himself for the grand experiment. A rhesus monkey called Scatback flew a sub-orbital flight on December 20, 1961 but was lost at sea after landing. Much like Scatback, Aviv was a hairy pioneer of territories uncharted; but while Scatback is still lost somewhere out at sea, Aviv has found himself in his own private sea of hairless glory and minor chemical burns.
The rest of the Boston trip went swimmingly, but was cut a bit short as I returned to New York City last night for an interview.
Mixing work, pleasure, and family bonding brought the Solitrins to Tennessee from June 12-15. Our first stop was in Nashville and a taste of Southern BBQ at Loveless Cafe. If the biscuits, fried chicken, catfish, and pulled pork weren’t enough, then the delicious next few days were to put us over the top. Another year at Bonnaroo… this time brought a well-stacked and diverse lineup. Needless to say- Music + Photo Credentials + Father’s Day spent with my Pops and Solomon Burke = a stellar time.
And of course, some good old B&W…