Switching Title

Listen here, or read below...Part IMusic is cut like a grid of urban streets – connected, unmoving, and planned by researchers who study the past and future practices. Why is this when mountains and rivers are cut and shaped at random, never to duplicate. Somehow they all fit together in one giant sphere while interacting, colliding, conducting science experiments on each other constantly for those who choose to observe. Non-stop Chemical reactions; wreaking havoc, all the while perpetuating serenity and perfection; and life for all will continue, so long as the law of conservation applies.Rappahannock, Blue Ridge, Northern Neck, Appalachian, Accotink, Mount Vernon, Luray Caverns Chincoteague, Sandbridge, Great Falls, nor-easter,  Hurricane Sandy, T-Storms, that big river that runs through the capitol and out to the Atlantic. And so, “The Sun Also Rises.”Part IIYour spring Saturdays were spent pulling sheets of plastic over thick metal wires that arched over beds of sweet potato plants in need of incubat

Listen to the audio here.I realize by now that not publishing a creation quickly after its birth can have some problems. The writings from this chunk trouble me, and are compiled from the previous year. When I was putting them together, and especially after I read them out loud for the recording, a lot of it didn't make sense to me.I suppose a person's terrestrial formulas can morph, adapt, recede; or just plain evolve over a year's time. Chances are, the state of the rest of society will likely wander about in the same amount of time. I'm not saying contemporary creations can't be relevant in the future. I am saying the strong winds of eternity blow the relevance boat quickly past the "now."But knowing when something is done is another challenge.(Apparently, all I needed this time was a preface!)Here's something I don't want to give a chance to miss the boat:Original thoughts.I wont transcribe the rest of the readings at this time. It's too much work that feels weird to me, so listen to the audio if you like

(Listen to audio here)Mary took another job in retail. Before her first day of work, she read online reviews of what current and past employees thought about their employment experience.  Common statements from female reviews said something along the lines of, "it's not the typical 'Boys Club.'"  A co-worker later told Mary how strange she thought it was that she made more money than anyone else at the store, and worked the least amount of hours.  She chortled as she said she was hired by a manager who loved women.  Another co-worker replied that she had heard about that.Mary trained for one hour with a large male co-worker on the basics of stocking the milk gallon shelves.  After that, she only entered the cold storage room if a desperate customer wanted something that was not on the shelf.  Often, she didn't even have to go through the door because she was able to ask the male working in the section if he could see any back-stock of the item. And if it was a male customer

(Listen to audio here)Tonight:Fiction, fact, dream, and waking life all translate to media."Stuffy," is the word I thought of when I walked into the auditorium.  This is after the phrase I mouthed to myself when I stumbled upon the place, which was, "holy shit!"I saw a man in a slick suit open up his wallet, pull out a twenty, and blow his nose on The President.  Marble pillars, and on the podium, a wooden gavel, and the table next to it, a laptop computer with an embedded glowing piece of fruit.I left the mansion after the lecture on a new three dimensional sound reproduction technique, and ended up at bar called The Big Hunt.  I remained standing as I drank my I.P.A. and watched a feather-weight boxer on the flat-screen.  He was called Kid Blast, and he taunted and roughed up his opponent.The pliable and synthetic hand-rail that accompanied the descending escalator to the metro station rubbed against its mechanics and honked like a dissonant saxophone solo.Coltrane, w

(Listen to audio here)He was in a green room for a show that wasn't his own.  Drinking the the six pack that belonged to the performing band, he realized each one of his friends was in love with his girlfriend.The wind was stronger than the air conditioner.  A stronger urge to return home hovered over his consciousness.  At least as strong, it was, as the knowledge that home was ordinary and he would want to be somewhere else in a matter of weeks.  A few weeks, if he's lucky, only because the length of time he was away might have allowed a different season to approach and take residence, and allow an opportunity for a change of scenery.  Even if there was no change in the weather, he was headed back now, with no plans of drastic destination changes.  He simply checked in online for his return flight, including the midway connection flight. He might just walk out of the layover airport because he had never visited the state before, except on previous occasions of la

(Listen to audio here)The slower you are, the lower you are.  You can own a jet.  You can own a car.  You can own a bike.  You can still have your legs and feet.  Maybe, one day, you can own a rocket-ship.If the day comes when people can teleport, we'll see how many of us still choose to walk.I always tell myself not to write when I have something I want to write.  The urge is to share it, but the fear is that it wont be good enough to share.  Then I tell myself to go read Henry Miller and learn how it's done.  Then I'll be able to write well enough to share.  But then the moment is gone.I wanted to write about a the first coffee shop I went to when I moved into the Outer Richmond District in San Francisco.  Now I don't remember much.  But the longer I leave it unwritten, the more soul escapes the experience.It was small.  It had my favorite breakfast: eggs, hash-browns and toast with a coffee for four dollars and ninety-five cents.  That price

(Listen to audio here)I had many discussions about creating media with my family this past week during my visit to the cold East Coast of the United States of America.  What we always decided was to always go through the motions of creating and not to worry about what will come of it.I had at least one coffee every day there.  One cup was not from Starbucks.  It might as well have been, except it was in downtown D.C. where we sat inside at a cramped table with a giant wall-window view of the street-corner intersection.  We watched men and women walk by in P-coats as taxis almost hit them when they crossed the street so they flipped the taxis the bird.I always take the lid off the to-go cup so the coffee has time to cool before it hits my lips.  The froth was rippling on the surface of the drink more than I had ever noticed.  Swirls of small paisley patterns whipped fountains of steam into the cool room temperature.  When we left, the fahrenheit of the coffee was low enou

(Listen to audio here)I received an email from a friend about her upcoming first art show.I made bacon and eggs for breakfast, like I have been all week.  I mixed a punk-rock recording I made with a friend of mine on the previous day and sent the mixes to him in an email.  I walked down miles of Ocean Beach with my shoes off.  I noticed more sand dollars than ever in my life.  I saw one that had a pinkish color to it and picked it up and realized it was alive.  It had dozens of little feelers reaching out to grab a hold of something.  I put it back in the sand.  I got back home and watched the second half of the Alfred Hitchcock movie, "Rear Window."  I napped a few hours.  I bought a half pint of whiskey and some rolling tobacco and caught the bus to the mission district where the art gallery was.  I met my friend and talked to her about her exhibit.  It was about going through a process, hoping to find something, and finding nothing at all.  I jump

(Listen to audio here)A man walks out of the coffee shop from which I am sitting down-wind.  His perfume is vulgar-sweet and un-natural, and smells like the shopping mall across the street.  He stalls at the patio table next to mine and fumbles in his pockets.  What's this?  The scraping sound of a match being lit, then the odor of its sulfur.  It battles and begins to nullify the department store stench, when soon, the acrid smoke of the man's cigarette hits my snout.  This is bliss!  He walks twenty feet down the sidewalk, finishes the cigarette, jumps into his red and black Smart Car, and drives off.  I plunge into my bold cup of coffee.With musicI'm trapped!Like a worker beein rhythms,in patterns.If you find yourself at the coffee shop at seven in the morning, you are received with the sun on your back, keeping you warm in the cool breeze.You may also find that you can't get a word in with Miller because every printed sentence of his makes you think he wrote it for

(Listen to audio here)Biked to a closing Borders Bookstore to scour, but I was still too cheap to purchase anything. Had pizza and beer.  And salad. And watched football.One coffee. Started listening to metal.Metal and churches mix.Insomnia.  Add the Relapse Records Sampler.

(Listen to audio here)The crow is the first and the loudest of many birds to perch on top of the tallest tree in the morning.This if preceded ten minutes by the Sun's early arch rising above the treeline.Which comes after dozens of pairs of legs cross my view of the sidewalk between the brim on my baseball cap and paperback.Which was given birth by a bloody sinus and the thought of the necessity of raking leaves.Now I will rake leaves.

(Listen to audio here)The reasons for which half the leaves on a tree remain in Summer, While the rest turn into Autumn may be scientifically explained, just as to why the sky is still grey even when the sun is up.  But as long as I cannot explain it, the observation is a youthful one, a wonder.Classic beauty is easy to distinguish.  Watch the trends in T.V., art, fashion, music, architecture, radio, automobiles, technology, literature, movies, interior design, photography, web and graphic design, cuisine, hair styles (including facial and body), and pornography.Shape and color, sound, smell, feel, and taste.Can beauty bypass the senses?  Beauty may be experienced by the mind using representations of what the senses can interpret.It is classic beauty because a majority agrees it has represented beauty for an extended period of time.Other types of beauty include: original, unique, "in the eye of the beholder."A unique or original beauty may only be perceived by a unique or original mind.  T

(Listen to audio here)The cop in front of me in line at the coffee shop said, "I'm sick," in response to the barista's auto-greeting-question.  Then he got free tea, as usual, I'll bet.  Or maybe there are a few, kind, working-class baristas left in the world, who give free drinks to cops, on their dimes, in exchange for a little extra security for the rest of us at the  cafe.The only thing more interesting is the potential meeting happening with the owners of two vehicles in the lot, who happen to parked next to each other, who's licence plates are LIECHSR and (handicap-symbol)RUAGOD.And the only thing that could top that would be if the DMV randomly issued those plate ID's.Goodbye cops.And by the way, that's what you get when you drink tea.

(Listen to audio here)Jumped on the horse.Up hill and against the wind.At the stop,Sweet and sour cologne found my snout,Leaves approached and passed,As did automobiles.Circled the castleAnd stormed the wallsAnd slay a beast.Retreat to fight another day.(An abstract mall poem)

(Listen to audio here)Four nights ago:I listened to an of album of hers on the train ride out on my iPod.  I didn't like it much at first.  It was something else that made me want to hear it.  Her voice and words.  A drunken night in her apartment a few years ago sums it up.  So drunk, I couldn't remember how it ended when I woke up the next day, and soon after when I was at work, I had this feeling of bliss.I tried to preserve my hearing by keeping the headphone volume low, so the crushing and sliding sounds of the train and its track mixed into the music, so much, so that when the album ended, I didn't realize it....And the youth catches on to doom.  As a music and art genre.  It used to be that people would tell me about these styles that were new to me, saying they've been around for a while.I think the next act will use loop pedals.  I saw that ten years ago in Seattle, and it was boring.  Merrill Garbus did it right.  The loops on her recordings sound ni

(Listen to audio here)From the bottom of the Yellow or Blue lines on the Metro, the track shoots out of an underground tunnel and up at least ten stories high as it twists around to the National Airport. You might catch glimpses of natural and man made flight experiences, with The Monument providing a background conversation piece.

(Listen to audio here)He asked his two coworkers what language they were speaking to each other with. They told him it was Hindi. Two hours later, he asked them in what countries people speak Hindi. They told him Pakistan and India. They were from India. He said he was jealous of their multilingual abilities. They told him to learn other languages by watching foreign films, and that a greeting in Hindi is “Namaste.”As the end of the shift approached, he asked them if they knew if they were going to continue working after the holidays. One said she didn't know, and the other said they would put her on-call. He said he was going to be on-call too.They taught him the Hindi word for goodbye. He repeated the word back to them, and forgot what it was five minutes later.He carried his stuffed backpack up the steps to the train station when it was dark, went to the kiosk and slid in his traveler rewards card.  After the round-trip set of tickets printed, he grabbed them, and took a seat on wh