30

about 5 years ago is when it began. a steady stream of friends each reaching the milestone of their 30th birthday in succession - like finishers in a race. the celebrations that i have been to have ranged wildly from debaucherous to cozy to inconspicuous. emotional responses have varied from excitement to resignation to hiding-in-the-nearest-closet.

last week was my own turn to reach the 3-0, two days after christmas, on December 27th. I was in the winter wonderland of pembroke, maine, which is just about the most northeast point in the entire USA. The day was a quiet one, spend with family, and without TV, internet, telephone, etc. I went for a snowy walk in the woods, took photos of the beautiful monochromes of grey ice sliding out into a wooded white horizon, and sat by the dark restless ocean water of cobscook bay.

emotional response? summed up in the phrase, "the more that you know, the more you realize that you don't know." I spent a week in pembroke, on the property that my father recently spent years of his savings on. during that week i assisted in some house repairs, ran a chainsaw for a while, identified a bunch of animals tracks, surveyed property boundaries and shot some target practice with a .44 magnum - things that are quite outside my typical apartment dwelling life in nyc. i must admit that I was really excited at the change of pace. There hasn't really been much doubt in my mind that I am ready to leave NYC for a new home with more ready access to nature, but i must say that i was a little surprised at how much I wanted to soak up knowledge on how to fix cars, clean guns and run water heaters. I think that my 24-year-old self would have laughed at my fascination with these 'adult' tasks.

so 30 came, and with it a sense that there is a lot to learn still about being an adult. fortunately i feel more than ready to begin the journey.

here are some pics from the trip

drones of fall

indelible

that is the name of the dance company that belongs to an old friend of mine. I am going to be doing some music for them in a couple weeks time. The choreographer asked for a drone - one that changes color and texture about half-way through. I have been daydreaming about that lately. What will the voices be? What will the performance look like?

The assignment is well-timed and fortuitous, as I am just really into droning sounds during this entire period of my life. I can listen to the fanning of water outwards over granules of sand for a long time. The lilting whisper of winds over and though mountains and high hills is the same. Constant yet so ephemeral. Dynamic and static. Cacophonous and soothing. The tympanic membrane flutters in and out like a hummingbird, changing its pulse imperceptibly.

been listening to lots of neurosis in preparation for the project. man i love that band. they are at once so original, dynamic, and utterly crushing. Check out the first three mins of this song from 'the sun that never sets'

hopefully music of my own will be forthcoming. it is nice to be surrounded by people that are so damn busy making art. inspires you to do the same, even when you are juggling a million other things. Don't let the pilot light go out on your creative voice.

bike for sale

From Craig's List...

Bike for sale

What kind of bike? I don't know, I'm not a bike scientist. What I am though is a manly guy looking to sell his bike. This bike is made out of metal and kick ass spokes. The back reflector was taken off, but if you think that deters me from riding at night, you're way wrong. I practiced ninja training in Japan's mount Fuji for 5 years and the first rule they teach about ninja biking is that back reflectors let the enemy know where you are. Not having a rear reflector is like saying "FUCK YOU CAR, JUST TRY AND FIND ME".

The bike says Giant on the side because it's referring to my junk, but rest assured even if you have tiny junk that Giant advertisement is going to remain right where it is. I bought this bike for 300 dollars from a retired mercenary that fought in both World War 1 and World War 2 and had his right arm bitten off by a shark in the Phillipines while stationed there as a shark handler. When he sold it to me I had to arm wrestle him for the honor to buy it. I broke his arm in 7 places when I did. He was so impressed with me he offered me to be his son but I thought that was sissy shit so I said no way.

The bike has some rusted screws, but that just shows how much of a bad ass you are. Everyone knows rusted screws on a bike means that you probably drove it underwater and that's bad ass in itself. Those screws can be replaced with shiny new ones, but if you're going to go to that trouble why not just punch yourself in the balls since you're probably a dickless lizard who doesn't like to look intimidating.

The bike is for men because the seat is flat or some shit and not shaped like a dildo. If you like flat seated bikes you're going to love this thing because it doesn't try to penetrate your ass or anything.

I've topped out at 75 miles per hour on this uphill but if you're just a regular man you'll probably top it out at 10 miles per hour. This thing is listed as a street bike which is man-code for bike tank. The bike has 7 speeds in total:

Gear 1 - Sissy Gear

Gear 2 - Less Sissy Gear

Gear 3 - Least Sissy Gear

Gear 4 - Boy Gear

Gear 5 - Pre-teen Boy Gear

Gear 6 - Manly Gear

Gear 7 - Big Muscles Gear

I only like gear 6 and 7 to be honest.

Additionally, this tool of all immense men comes with a gigantic lock to keep it secure. The lock is the size of a bull's testicles and tells people you don't fuck around with locking up your bike tank. It tells would-be-thieves "Hey asshole, touch this bike and I'll appear from the bushes ready to club you with a two-by-four".

Bike is for 150 OBO (and don't give me no panzy prices)

--

fall #2 (my block/daylightsavings)

drive '95

fall 1995

that was when a coworker of mine named margaret, 4 years my senior and so obviously cooler than me (she and i both knew it), gave me the mixtape that introduced me to this ode to autumn. it was the first song on the cassette, and my first exposure to jawbreaker. I remember distinctly the track list written in faded pencil, and the first time listening to the songs against the din of her rickety old car as she gave me a ride home - past the light brown and perfect blue of easton's beach.

the whereabouts of that old tape are sadly unknown. though i imagine that it does exist somewhere still, it has assumed a different life as an enigmatic relic in someone else's collection of bric-a-brac from salad days gone by. it is no longer in my possession.

the song, however, has always been with me, and has always reminded me of the best things about my favorite season. it was playing at the local cafe this morning as i had a coffee with my friend tim.

Margaret. the last time that I remember hanging with her was going to see weston play at the middle east in maybe october '95 (i think). we drove up in her car, which in my mind's eye was barely hanging on during the whole drive up. after that, i don't remember what happened. i seem to remember a trip to foster-glocester to take some photos, but the rest fades into the soft pixelated wisps of forgotten history

the title of this post puns on another song that i saw performed more than once that year, by a boston band that has stuck with me as one of my favorites ever since.

ideas, anyone??

born to run

wow! check out this article in the NY times.

i have heard about the tarahumara indians before... showing up to run marathons in arizona and southern california in nothing but wooden soled sandals and taking first place. really cool.

also neat is the fact that my old graduate advisor at the University of Utah is cited in the article! he published the paper the NY Times mentions about the distance-running capabilities of humans while I was working for him (got a front cover in Nature). I think that the Times does a pretty good job of summarizing his and Lieberman's thesis, personally.

i remember at the lab during that time was a large old volume of eadweard muybridge time-lapse photographs (example above). some of the most captivating work i have ever seen

mummies

until the day-that-the-edifices-of-modern-civilization-crumble-to-the-ground-and-mail-is-no-longer-deliverable-in-these-united-states, i will maintain a subscription to three magazines - harpers, tapeop, and national geographic. this month's national geo is really amazing. one article in particular talks about mummified animals that were buried with egyptian royalty three thousand years ago. the mummies themselves are amazing works of art - made all the more improbable and moving by the fact that they have survived in such wonderful states of preservation for such a long period of time! the above photo was the only one available for download, but you should check the rest

here

besides that, fall descends gently and steadily on new york city. soft carpets of bright yellow leaves and the arrival of dusk noticeably early in the cool days

walking with d.v.

Little Compton, RI. population: 3514

so, i have some really talented friends who publish on online magazine called take the handle. It is released quarterly, includes an impressive melange of multimedia art, and is full of writing that lives up to its tagline, "for thinking rascals everywhere". Needless to say, check it out.

The most recent issue is entitled "the hometown issue", and in it an old friend from my high school daze in rhode island wrote a piece on the tiny little coastal town that he is from - Little Compton. Little Compton was (and still is) small enough to not have a high school of their own, so they bussed their teenagers to the shining beacon of public education that is Middletown High School. That is how i met Ben. Ben's piece on Little Compton, which ends up serving as a vehicle through which he engages in some pretty thoughtful introspection, is wonderful. Truly, reading it i feel myself walking along the beaches on a sunny, crystalline late fall day - every shade of red and brown emanating from leafless shrubs and smooth sand bars, encroaching on the iridescent dark blue of the Sakonnet Inlet. mmm.... there are few things out there that beat november in new england. click on the link above and read read read.

at the top of this post is a picture that i took in little compton last year, along with a sketch of a song that i wrote at about the same time.

rhode island rothko's

"swheat" dreams

I have not been to the mccarren park farmer's market in quite a long time, mostly just because i feel that it pales in comparison to its counterparts at grand army plaza and union square; however, yesterday's low hanging clouds, pregnant with rain, and cool temperatures compelled me to go about my grocery shopping a little closer to home, so i made the quick jaunt up to the park with $20 in hand. Though I went to the market with fairly low expectations, i was really happy to find that they had added a bunch of new vendors since the last time that I have been there. One in particular was really exciting - a local mill that is producing freshly ground flours (spelt and whole wheat) and polenta-style cornmeal.

check it out here

I first discovered the wonder that is newly-milled wheat last year,

when my friend's mother in seattle sent us some local NW heirloom

wheat. i was floored by how rich it tasted. it basically made me

realize that all the flour that i have previously eaten in my life

doesn't taste like anything at all. Needless to say, I am really excited

to try some local NY wheat - just in time for baking cornbread and

making pancakes on cold autumn days. Here is one of my favorite seasonal recipes (apple, walnuts and wheat just feel right for autumn).

I made this a few times with the emmer wheat from seattle last year... it was phenomenal!

winter then fall