a wedding and a precursor

7/1/07

as of this date, my former roommate, alex the indie music hookup, is married. there were three highlights to his wedding:

first, it was the best wedding i've ever attended that consisted entirely of recorded music. well, i can't be entirely certain of that, but generally i tend to think that live musicians provide weddings with a special, unique feel that is noticeably absent when another recording of pachelbel's canon hits the stereo. somehow sappy wedding music that's live is infinitely more tolerable than sappy music from a CD. however, despite my strongly pro-live perspective, i was happily suprised by alex and katie's wedding. they picked a satisfying selection of contemporary songs that lent their wedding a fresh gravity. the only potential for a musical frown during the event was that they didn't hire our band--that's right, they marched out of the sanctuary to sufjan's "chicago" (!) and they didn't hire us. maybe they thought i was too busy with my usher duties.

second, the food was delicious.

and third, the pastor. he wasn't delicious, and he wasn't a highlight in the traditional sense of the word. it was his first wedding and his sermon aimed at the epic rather than the simple. i think he was trying to read through the bible in 80 days or three wedding services, whichever came first. still, he didn't stutter, stammer, or stare blankly at the waiting couple. it was a decent first time.

no, his highlightyness was more related to his role as the protagonist in a behind-the-scenes tale of mystery and mayhem than any personal trait.

TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT POST!

i like this band

whoohoo! now you can listen to synthar while browsing the 17 point scale ratings, which i intend to update a bit more frequently during the upcoming three months.

well, now that i've posted this, i realize that the sampler tends to fade out before the songs really bloom. generally speaking, i would recommend sampling tracks 5 (a post-apocalyptic warning), 9 (the sampling function fades before the amazing life-changing beat), 10 (very sad), and 11 (very happy).

and then later, you can buy their album.

my synthar blurb

as usual, my latest image update blurb, a review of synthar's evenings and weekends, is kind of a gamble.

i'll explain the gambling later, but in the meantime, here it is:

Synthar: Evenings and Weekends

In this season of last caucuses and primaries, with the names of presidential candidates on our tongues and a foretaste of change on our lips, the pop-indie band Synthar has come out with just the album to match that extra kick in your step—or that worried furrow of brow—that may accompany this historic time. Synthar’s debut album, Evenings and Weekends,is a genuine, synthesized consideration of change and transformation. Its sound lies somewhere between electronica and folk—as the Jackson Free Press says, Synthar has taken “synth-pop into singer-songwriter territory.” Synthar is an internet band: its members—spread around the world from Shaoxing, China, to Jackson, Mississippi and from New York, New York, to Stanford, California—huddled their laptops together to create an irresistibly catchy mix of Moogs, vocoders, guitars, and sad, understated vocals. The tracks of Evenings and Weekends range from themes of changes in landscape—“Hurricanes” is lead singer Johnny Bertram’s firsthand response to Katrina and Rita—to the hiccups and tragedies of relational change in “My Heart Is a Beating Drum,” “Stabbed by an Unseen Blade,” and, most traumatically, “The Phone Call.” Synthar also asks us to question how our dollars and cents impact the world. In “The Robots Among Us” they warn that “in the land of milk and honey / where we walk the thin line between / what we need and greed” there are “robots among us” who “don’t understand the warmth of human touch”—and the song builds to a chilling climax when the robots join in the chorus. But most extraordinary is Synthar’s uncanny juxtaposition of generally dark, meaningful themes with spritely, upbeat melodies. The combination of thoughtful lyrics with playful synthesizing and vocal harmonies results in moments of happy-pop-bliss, making Evenings and Weekends an album that is not just smart, but indeed, as they sing in one of their happier tracks, gives you “the urge to dance… dance the morning away / and when the day finally turns into afternoon / you’ll flip the record and dance to new tunes!” Because Synthar is an independent band in the truest sense, the best way to buy Evenings and Weekends is directly from them on their website (ours even came with a handwritten “thanks.”) Plus, the handsome CD and packaging are individually screen printed by hand.

For more, visit Synthar.com. You can also listen to a few tracks on Synthar’s Myspace page.

OK, how is this a gamble? it's not that i'm hesitant to recommend the album; evenings and weekends is seriously really good. it may even be my favorite new album of 2007.

no, it's because i write these reviews for an arts journal that focuses specifically on work that somehow engages faith. therefore, i always feel challenged to center my thoughts on some theme or idea that is relevant to the image vision--faith, art, mystery.

sometimes that's a breeze--the culturally savvy christian, for instance--but often it's a stretch. it's not that i walk the plank of clear, accurate critique into the surging waters of creative interpretation, but that i sometimes have to dive beyond the patent responses of other reviewers. i have to lay all of my cards down on the table and say, "you know, i haven't heard anyone else say this, but the road sure strikes me as an incarnation story," (yikes!) and that's a scary place to be.

so here's where things get dicey with my evenings and weekends review. every other e&w review explores the synthar sound. they reference bands i've never heard of. they describe how andrew, johnny, matt, and joel have built a bridge between new wave 70s (?) and synth pop. occasionally a reviewer mentions synthar's socially conscious lyrics, but the only reviewer to mention subject matter says that he was initially turned off by the "futuristic, sci-fi themes."

(futuristic, sci-fi themes? as far as i can tell, only one song, "the robots among us," taps the sci-fi genre, and as i suggest in my blurb, it does so in a satirical, now-focused way.)

the problem is, i'm no music critic. i can confidently rank e&w among my top three 2007 albums because i probably only listened to three 2007 albums. and so my only chance of saying something profound and worthwhile about a band is to listen to those words, those strange syllabic formations that some listeners may deem a musical afterthought. and those words tell me that change is in the air. so when i say that my blurbs are a gamble, i really mean that i hope the synthar fellows won't be surprised to learn that their tracks are about change. i hope a few dozen readers will buy the album, nod their head--in time to the beat, of course--and hear the change.

salvaged tunes

many mp3s perished in yesterday's purge, but today was a time of musical salvation. i was preparing to trash most of aqualung's strange and beautiful album; the tracks were rated 1s, 2s, and 3s, and seemed unlikely candidates for survival. but then something peculiar happened. i gave them a second listen and was pleasantly surprised--i may like this aqualung fellow! perhaps my tastes are changing....

that's all.

andrew david. "a strange plant that you mistake for a weed and then learn to love." san ignacio town, belize.

deleted tunes

my laptop is bursting with mp3s and photographs, so i recently purchased an external hard drive to help with the storage problem. after backing up the files, i went on a deleting spree. the first files to get the ax were 196 songs (that's about 1 gig) from the paste magazine sampler albums. each of the casualties was first given a 5 to 10 second opportunity to increase its ranking to the 3 star safety threshold, but only 1 song was spared (an arcane fire song).

two deletion observations:

• several of my favorite bands appeared to use paste as their dumping ground for sub-par songs. paste contributions from ben harper, ben kweller, bright eyes, cat power, coldplay, death cab for cutie, solomon burke, and van morrison each found their way to the recycle bin.
• the paste music editors and i strongly disagree on several bands. multiple contributions from bill mallonee, brindley brothers, mary gauthier, michelle shocked, rachael sage, sonia dada, and the black keys were included in paste albums and subsequently deleted by me.

a list of the most recently deleted songs (sorted by artist)


andrew david. "iguanas and the s.o." san ignacio town, belize.

sufjan stevens cover

i'm a world famous musician! my band just aired our music video for sufjan stevens's "chicago" on youtube. i'm the fellow on secondo piano and occasional background vocals.



(if you press play and the video appears to be slow or perpetually loading, click the youtube logo in the right-hand corner of the video screen and follow it to the youtube site. also, be sure to take part in the first ever 17 point scale poll--see the side bar--and leave poll-related comments here on this post.)

mp3 update

i've finished rating my mp3 library, hooray! that means that i've assigned a rating to 4,184 songs. in celebration, i've spent the last 15 minutes listening only to songs that were rated five stars (that's 88 songs on random play) and posting a picture of cake (the next best thing to eating it). i also deleted some of those nasty albums that were wasting precious disk space (about 1 gig to nearly be precise). now, because i know you all love lists, here are the first 11 albums (/artists)to receive the axe:

doolittle/pixies (everyone seems to love the pixies; everyone but me, that is)
frances the mute/the mars volta (intriguing album and band name, but, oh, well)
hoars/16 horsepower
laundry service/shakira
peel slowly/the velvet underground -- i left a few 3 star songs
so jealous/tegan & sara
the best little secrets are kept/louis XIV (it serves them right to have their album deleted; it's title is a lie)
the downward spiral/nine inch nails -- kept "hurt" and "a warm place"
with teeth/nine inch nails -- kept "every day is exactly the same" and "right where it belongs"
the Futureheads/the futureheads -- kept "the city is for you to use"
wet from birth/the faint (it's too bad; i liked their band name)



andrew david. "kayaking down a river of eggless chocolate" shekinah, saskatchewan.

little landmarks in the life of the blogger

(1) i've made $11 on istockphoto.com! only $89 more and i'll actually be able to cash out.
(2) i've evaluated 4,182 mp3s. only 75 more and i'll have rated my entire itunes library.
(3) i've exchanged 4+ emails about editing a client's novel. only 1+ more and i might have a deal.
(4) i've posted 192 blog entries. only 8 more and i'll have exhausted all of my ideas for the 17 point scale. okay that's probably not true, but at the moment it certainly feels that way. and since it's always best to be prepared, i've found you a replacement site; it's a blog about reading, writing, and annie dillard. in the most recent post, the blogger (beth) talks of church, polar bears (well, they're actually dillard's polar bears, not beth's), and the beautiful agony that is writing (or more particularly, the troubling realization that visits nearly every young writer, the sad epiphany that some greater, more renowned author has somehow stolen your paper mache idea and given it wings, the elegant, nuanced wings of a monarch butterfly or a hoatzin). just imagine the coolness of my parenthetical thought multiplied by some really big number (maybe a number like 70. isn't that the really huge, seemingly infinite number that Christ offered the apostles when they asked how many times they should forgive their brother? i may be recalling this wrong, but if not, does that mean that jews and romans were really bad at math? or should i stop forgiving him later this year?), and you'll have a rough sense of how great this blog is. but there is one problem. you'll have to pay spu a few thousand dollars before you can read it. yep, it's that good. officially, the money that you'd spend to read the blog is considered tuition for spu's mfa in creative writing, but we all know that that's just lawyer talk, cause i'm telling you, it's a darn good blog.


andrew david. "yes this is a rather plain wedding picture and yes i wore those sandals during the wedding and yes thats danny and alison at the bottom of the page and yes you can tell becky that ive finally read some wendell berry" saskatchewan, canada.

886 to go

there is christmas music wafting up through the air ducts. that's right, i live with a guy who listens to christmas music on october 1st. what the goose???

well, i too have my strange musical habits. perhaps the most extraordinary of these unusual tendencies is my analytical assualt on alex layton's mp3 collection. in the summer of 2005, alex allowed me to copy his exhaustive music library onto my new laptop. with the addition of this generous earful, the total number of songs on my computer was 4186.

if i were to rank my friends (and perhaps my acquaintances too) in terms of their musical acuity, alex would be somewhere in the top ten. however, we humans are fallible (and sentimental), and everyone likes to listen to a little crap now and then. thus, despite the impressiveness of alex's musical taste, many of his songs don't strike me as worth the 5mb it takes to keep them alive.

soooo...in order to purge my system of musical malcontens, i elected to rank EVERY single song using the itunes five-star ratings system. while this is a daunting project, the quirkiest piece is yet to come.

in the download-happy world of the single, the prevailing musical mood seems a bit against the concept of an album. still, i continue to embrace the idea that songs are significantly connected in a web of meaning. perhaps i give too much credit to the music industry, but there's something tragic in the disassociation of the chapter from the book. therefore, i will not delete the musical atrocities until i have determined that the entire album is bad.

now, one more word about my methodology: while i support the concept of the album as an important, undivided entity, i have been listening to my unrated playlist in--gasp--random order. at first i rated albums song-by-song, but i soon found that by the last third of an album i was influenced as much by the previous tracks as the song itself. because i was afraid that this manner of rating might make me miss some gems, i adopted the unbiased method of listening to tracks in random order.

wow, it took a lot longer to explain that than i thought...

beth the s.o.. "andrew summiting the highest mountain in the world" cypress island, wa.
by the way, that's the andrew that spends his time ranking music not the andrew that spends his time thinking

the soundtrack to your blurbs

yesterday, for the first time in 4 years, i spent more than 5 minutes playing a video game. unfortunately, that meant that i played pirates for, oh, about 6 hours. and, since 3am's a bit late, i'm ragged tired. thus, i've been beth-ordered to refrain from blogging (and pirates) past 10:45pm tonight. it's 10:55 now, so the only way i could (almost) conceivably do that is to stop NOW. that means you're in for a treat; i have no course but to recycle some old material.

wednesday's post suggested that my image update was my first nationally published blurb. while that's true, i almost had an album review/recommendation/press release published a few years ago. if you google just right, you might be still be able to find the blurb, but to make it easier for you, here's the last saved version on my laptop:





THE SOUNDTRACK TO YOUR DREAMS

As we sleep, the night corrals our dreams. One by one he warily drives them to their pens. But occasionally some nighttime reverie slips free. Then, in a rare hallowed moment, our consciousness can sneak peeks at a fascinating new world, a world so mesmerizing it can only be marred by the inevitable alarm clock buzz of morning.

But don’t let daytime get you down. The nearly newest album from [the now deceased] local Seattle band The Dandelion Method casts a net deep into the sea of our dreams and somehow extracts the musical equivalent of that idyllic waking moment. Band drummer, Joel Hartse, explains that their self-titled sophomore album is “a picture of where we have been the past 2 years – we've been through a ton: marriages, college graduations, new jobs, new houses…” Perhaps, but really the album is too familiar, as if the band sifted through our personal dreamscapes in order to produce this precise blend of guitar, voice, drum, and keys.

Like a dream, there's a certain delicateness to The Dandelion Method. Rather than standard rock n’ roll fare, we find glistening dew drops suspended in some lucky Charlotte’s embroidered web. The layered instruments build tension, collide, and then suddenly dissolve in quiet a cappella harmonies. Though it hardly seems fitting to describe an album laced with crashing guitars and rapid drum beats as delicate, these recent college grads have concocted a paradoxical hybrid of well choreographed ballet and hole-in-the-wall jam. The album suggests that there may finally be two ways to keep dreaming well into the workday: either unplug your alarm or make room in the web for The Dandelion Method.

Andrew David

enya makes everything poignant

alright, i'll admit it, i'm a closet enya fan.

some people use enya like ice cream or bubble baths. after a stressful day at work, they slip shepherd moons into the cd player and let enya do her magic. for others enya is something of a thought elixer. like inspirational gregorian chant, the peaceful pleasant chords melt into the background and help thoughts to crystallize.

however, i tend to associate enya with boxer briefs. at the sound of that simple perfect voice, i think back to my college roommate. he'd perch his battering ram of a cd player on the bathroom sink near the shower and then chant right along as he showered. then, clothed in nothing but fruit of the loom, he'd hit the books--our room was an academic enya sanctuary.

as i listen to enya again, it's funny for a moment, but enya is mightier than my laughter. she is more powerful than underwear. she somehow endues everything with meaning. the ridiculous yet entirely reasonable antics of my roommate are suddenly a puzzle piece in the journey of life. a brief subway ride with beth, jacinda, and matt (see below) is an elysian image of earthly romance. my roommate's boxer briefs are somehow a symbol of our human fraility. have i gone crazy? maybe, but blame enya....

jacinda basinger. "elysian romance 1, 2, & 3" nyc, ny.

blue scholars lyrics!

Perhaps you've noticed that a complete set of lyrics to the Seattle-based, thoughtful hip hop group Blue Scholars is unavailable on the internet. Well, let me be the first to congratulate Andrew for now having the first ever internet links to the Blue Scholar's self-titled album's complete lyrics!

Check it out; leave me a comment if you have suggestions about words that don't seem quite right.

solstice: reintroduction
blue school
bruise brothers
motion movement
selfportrait
freewheelin'
the inkwell
burnt offering
evening chai
blink
sagaba
the ave
life & debt
no rest for the weary

on the road: figure eight [1.0]

this january i unveiled a series of new features to the 17 point scale. one of these ideas was a segment called 'on the road reviews.' i explained that:

these posts will hopefully bear the fruit of my most dangerous new idea (and perhaps my sole idea) concerning that i-5 stretch of verdant wasteland between seattle and portland. the recipe for my new idea is really quite simple; in fact, it only takes a few key ingredients: one or more full length music albums, a device with which to play said cds, a pen, and a post-it note pad. the stickies that survive the ride shall then serve as the song-by-song foundation for my 'on the road reviews.' as an aside, i suddenly (as in a few minutes ago) became intensly interested in origins. that is, where did this idea come from? (i don't know). why did i choose this title? (to begin, i did not intend hurtle my way into the company of jack kerouac or willy nelson. in fact, having never finished 'on the road' or listened to the verses of 'on the road again,' i can't even claim an artistic birthright to their sense of these words, so there is no connection. none. i liked the aliteration; that's it).

joel's blog and an occasional article in paste magazine is about my only exposure to the world of legitimate music reviews. still, from what i've seen, my vision of a track-by-track album analysis seems rather unique. this surprises me. maybe my method is overkill, perhaps it's too unpolished, but the overall effect seems like an interesting blend of analysis and subjectivity.

in any case, despite all the hoopla that surrounded my initial announcement of on the road reviews, it's been almost six months and i have yet to post a single on the road review. frankly, i'm a little hesitant to embark upon this path. mostly i'm afraid that it will prove too exhaustive and uninteresting for readers that lack the album that happens to be my flavor of the day. and, unfortunately, i obviously can't post links to the songs that i discuss. also, these thoughts are scribbled on little scraps of paper as i drive from portland to seattle: they tend to be rather scattered. thus, i'm open to feedback. here's a sample of how an on the road review might read:

I.
figure eight by elliot smith

1. 'you're just somebody that i used to know.' the chorus says it all. an implicit indictment of the 'you.' the song attacks her but does so oh so pleasantly. still, at first listen, the song is blessedly ambiguous. we can't quite swallow what elliot's preaching; we only half believe that she's really 'just somebody' that he used to know...

2. 'something's happening. don't speak to soon...son of sam?' i like the piano. i like the phrase 'acting under orders from above...you fall down.' i don't know what the song is saying, but i like the succession of parallel-looking words like 'under' and 'order.' moreover, this line seems like a microcosm for the album: to some degree, his words take us down (under) and then up (above) and then down again (down).

8. "stay with me / hanging around at the lost and found...don't go home, angelina...i'm alone, most of the time / but that's okay..." there's a constant sense of 'it seems this way.' nothing is concrete. also, the song (and album) seems to shift places between happiness and sadness, companionship and solitude, staying or leaving. the main lyric is somehow ironic. and the song has a weird unconnected 30 second instrumental postlude.

10. another indictment of a girl: "it's all about taking the easy way out for you i suppose..." elliot smith seems pretty good at conveying a bitter yet seemingly logical analysis of his ex's. he paints a familiar picture (i.e., as someone with ex's, his lyrics and tone resonate with me) that somehow manages to remain uncliche.

more? stop this insanity?

andrew david 'free advertising' yelapa, mexico.

two questions

1. anyone heard of herbie hancock? more particularly, is he a one-hit wonder as far as rockin-cool piano songs or could someone steer me in the direction of some goodies? i really liked the piano in 'stitched up,' but the other tracks on his recent album seemed lame.

2. let's talk seahawks. any first impressions regarding the off-season? we've lost hutchinson, failed to snag abraham, acquired peterson, and kept alexander happy -- is this shaping out to be a bust or another shining spring for ruskell and reinfeldt?


andrew david 'flesh eating clown fish' puerto vallarta, mexico.

my blog is like beth

i never know where beth will take me. perhaps that's because i'm a guy and for whatever reason i am blessed with the uncanny ability to drift off at just the wrong moments. yes, mother, ideally i would never drift off. but come on, if that were the case, i'd probably have a harem by now (perhaps compliments of this wonderful batch of personals). so, as the occasionally deaf, one-woman man that i am, there should be little surprise that this evening i found myself somewhere that i didn't quite expect: in the midst of a gospel-style worship service. i later discovered that this exhuberant hand clapping, joyous shouting, and singing--a relatively unfamiliar way of talking to God--was merely a prelude to the night's expected entertainment (or more appropriately, enlightenment), a message by Dr. John Perkins, 'the renowned civil rights leader and founding partner with SPU of the John Perkins Center for Reconciliation, Leadership Training, and Community Development (whew--that's a lonnnng title...it comes from spu.edu, but i'm not posting a link because the quote may not be available after today).' dr. perkins shared some interesting points regarding racism, christianity, and the disaster-battered state of the deep south, but it was the gospel choir that first got my attention.

still, despite the novelty of this form of worship, i was struck by an odd parallel. based upon tonight, it appears that gospel music tends to repeat a line or a chorus over and over again. during the course of this repetition, the choir director may tinker with the congregation's intensity or tone, but the words remain the same. shifting gears to a more personal one-on-one (that is man and God) setting, this emphasis on repetition is surprisingly similar to an old orthodox practice (and roman catholic too, i think...isn't there a latin term of some kind? kyrie gaglingok?). in the way of a pilgrim (or more particularly, the philokalia), an unknown, 19th century wanderer recounts his discovery of the orthodox 'Jesus prayer,' a simple sentence that christians were taught to pray unceasingly. "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me," they would pray all day, everyday. now, i know that i have a penchant for finding quirky little connections where there are none (take poetry and football, for example), but even now i feel some sense of gladness at this link between the ancient and the more modern pictures of my faith.

earlier today i was asked, 'if you could attend a live concert by any musical artist, living or dead, who would it be and where?' after nearly mumbling my way out of the question, i thought of the many sundays that i've sat on the floor at st. mark's and participated in a compline service. every time that i stare up into the cavernous space of that church and hear those voices rise mystically above me, i feel a reassuring connection with the past. i'm reminded that as i stumble along this journey of faith i'm not alone. the path is well-worn by other men and women down through the centuries. and that's probably why i dismissed elton john, ben folds, switchfoot, radiohead, burlap to cashmere, and other more likely candidates in favor of some 7th century cathedral with an anonymous cluster of monk-dudes singing gregorian chant.


andrew david. 'one too many, version 2' puerto vallarta, day 1.
these were our first 2 for 1 margaritas in mexico.

back page: corelli's mandolin

II.

corelli's mandolin: a novel by louis de bernieres

12/7/03
"this novel will always [fondly] remind me of nickel creek...once i adjusted to the onstensibly grandiose vocabulary, this was a fun, touching, and (perhaps) epic tale of love, war, and GREECE. i like it, and on the eve of rhett and vanessa's wedding i wish them a love like p&a."

hmmm...when i alighted upon the back page concept, i didn't anticipate the necessity of a fill-in-the-missing-colors post-script to every single back page post-script. oh, well.

first, i should warn readers that this connection between nickel creek and corelli's mandolin is not entirely natural. indeed, they are separated by an ocean, several decades in scope, and an obvious lack of any specific thematic similarity. still, as you might be surprised to learn, music plays an important role in the story of corelli's mandolin. moreover, nickel creek caught the coat-tails of fame as a result of chris thile's nimble mandolin pickin' fingers; did you catch that? mandolin. in any case, to manufacture a similar reading experience, i recommend donning your imagination cap and listening to the pseudo-greek tunes of nickel creek and this side.

from a meta-blog perspective you may note that i appear to use the term 'touching' a bit too frequently in these reviews. earlier i claimed that henderson rain king had a 'touching style.' however, rather than assuming that andrew has a recycle bin vocabulary, lets try optimism. perhaps he's merely a great critic; perhaps once you whittle away all the competing camps of literary theory, the most tangible characteristic of good literature is its ability to touch readers.

back to the review at hand. i'm afraid that the inclusion of a sappy marital blessing may have little personal application to someone debating whether or not to read this book. on the other hand, when bernieres happens upon my blog, i suspect that he'll feel quite honored (and that is, after all, my aim -- to suck up to british authors). personally, i'd be all aglow if someone referenced my blog in a wedding context (see my great poem 'command' for laudable wedding toast material). for readers other than bernieres, i hope that the inclusion of a wedding blessing could at least produce a bit of intrigue. who is this vanessa? you might ask. and who is this rhett? are there any other names that start with rh? rhiannon...rhodes (but that's a last name)...rhoda....

finally, do NOT judge this book based upon the movie. you see, the book does NOT star nicholas cage. as an aside, i was just googling for a page that said "HE'S AN IDIOT!" in big block letters. while unsuccessful, i found this adorable website. if you click no other links in your life, please click this one. mr cage, this one's for you!

some three-year-old musings on MDD and the movie Magnolia

Thursday, August 08, 2002 – 1:25 AM

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the past month and a half but not a lot of writing. In fact, no writing at all, so I figure its about time to get started again. After all, I have to wrack my brain for a travel essay topic and eventually compose twelve artful pages that say something about something. And this is a bad sign. The swirling minutia of irrelevant thoughts that managed to keep me up past midnight suddenly backtracked into nothingness the moment I decided to end my writing fast. Oh, well. Maybe my thoughts will return eventually. In the interim, as I listen to jars of clay and Switchfoot, here’s a movie review of sorts; after all, in the old days, when I actually managed to keep a diary, I included everything from movie reviews to silly lists of what I consumed that day (trix, cinnabon, chocolate-chip-oatmeal cookies, three fruit snacks, a piece of pizza, a third of a donut, and a piece of gum).

Magnolia: A bizarre movie that intermittently follows the lives of twelve very different people, pulling their lives from pure randomness to an intricate web of interconnectedness. At its heart this movie seems to be searching for something to explain the strange coincidences that commingle to form our lives. Falling frogs and ironic deaths also accentuate the movie’s strange taste in storytelling. While I could easily add some plot summary or interesting observations, there’s a reason this movie, which I watched about three weeks ago, popped into my head, and at the moment—and what a brief moment it shall be, because while david gray may be able to bob his head tirelessly to babylon, its putting me to sleep—I want to talk about me. So, as I turned my massive (yet insignificant) to do list over in my mind, pending emails shot to the forefront. One such email will be addressed to Pam; among other things, this email will have to explain why I sometimes feel ‘sick of myself.’ As I was considering this, I stumbled upon the issue of me being or not being depressed (and likewise, this spawned parallel thoughts concerning Sarah and Marianne, but I have only so much space and even less time). Wow, this is gonna’ take forever. So here’s the connection to magnolia. At one point in the movie william h macy (the reason I checked the movie out from the library in the first place) says something like “I’m not depressed, I’m melancholy. There’s a difference.” And he’s right. Lately, however, I haven’t really been feeling either. That’s good news. Thanks Jesus. Goodnight.

1/31/06 post-script:
i still think fondly of that disturbing magnolia movie. i have several friends that live in magnolia. i don't know if they're depressed, but i feel fine. well, mostly fine; the wind keeps waking the motion-sensored light outside my bedroom window, so i've been posting messages to the ESL chat rooms (as, you guessed it, the17pointscale), hoping that talk of em dashes might put me to sleep. in any case, i like the idea of listing my meals for the day--it was ahead of its time. oatmeal, ritz crackers, vanilla wafers, bacon and egg scramble, milk...

a secret intermission [cont. 1]

darrrr. the rain has arrived.

if i were writing a poem, i think i'd use the title 'yet another sunset in golgotha' as my inspiration. however, the cluster of trees on the hill is much too busy for a literal golgotha and this literal incongruity might dissuade viewers from pursuing the picture any further. my only hope would be if they happened to be sitting in my living room at this very instant. in that case, they'd be privy to an unusual experience; that of my flatmate (we'll call him Mark) crooning gabriel faure's libera me (take a browse at http://www.emusic.com/album/10827/10827503.html). yep, i think a requiem (and a dark title) might be just the thing to spark interest in my nearly ordinary photo.

in the meantime, here's a pic of the mug behind the voice: