Take the L (Chicago's subway, if ya don't know). From today's regular The Chicago Way column by the Chicago Sun-Times' Tom McNamee:
"The L is a traveling singles bar, a traveling 24-hour singles bar," explains Michael Beaumier, the personals editor for the Chicago Reader. "You have people who are just basically from all over the place, forced to share cramped quarters, and inevitably you are going to see somebody you're attracted to."
And when you do, Michael, do you look into each other's eyes and fall in love and forget everything else in the world and miss your stops and glow like children and talk and talk and -- dare we dream -- live in bliss with your soul mate forever?
That is the unique visitors number for this website the month of February. What can I say -- I'm floored. Thanks to all of you. Much more content on the way, so stay tuned to the flow.
This house is going up for auction next month. It is a Frank Lloyd Wright house, one of over 380 around the country, many of which are in the Chicagoland area. This particular property, his "Emil Bach House", was one of his last small residential homes.
The reason I post this is that it sits in our old neighborhood, Rogers Park, literally around the corner from an apartment we rented. Hannah and I would walk past it all the time, and take our late pooch, Mickey, for bathroom/exercise strolls. It was a source for conversation, lots of oohs 'n ahhs. What we walked near was, basically, a zeitgeist reflected in a home, one of many of course.
I studied Wright's work in high school, and even blueprinted my own dream house modeled after characteristics of his signature Prairie style. For my blueprint, that means a large sunken living room in the middle of the house with a balcony on the second floor that overlooks and circles it, and in general a striving for a feeling of natural expanse. Maybe I'll post jpgs of my blueprints sometime. I'm quite proud of my little map, but I suppose you got that already.
Oh, and by the way, the Emil Bach house ain't gonna come cheap. The bidding starts at a cool $750 G. Wanna go half-zees?
"On Wednesday, the city said Trump has been in negotiation with Chicago officials about whether to add to the 1,125-foot design a spire tall enough to surpass the height of the 1,450-foot Sears Tower, perhaps by as much as 100 feet." Here's the story.
Here's what they are arguing about, in a computerized render:
Chicago Tribune photo
I think it is cool. Kind of whatev about it, b/c I usually need to grow into a love for a building, over many years. You never quite know how a building is going to sit in its environs until it is built. That must drive architects batty. Same general principle goes for composition, and I know I lose hairs. My new job is in the building second from the left.
Oh, and by the way, here's what the Trump site looks like, as of yesterday.
The wonder of humble beginnings. Mark Raterman works in the black building on the left, the rather monolithic IBM Tower. The other day, after lunch, we stood next to the Trump site. Man, it is great to breath construction dust. Makes you feel like firing people.
This is an MP3 of the heartbeat of our 20 week old baby -- working name, The Bean. It is nurtured and fed by Hannah in her ever-growin' womb. I field-recorded Bean's Beat at St. Elizabeth's Hospital in Chicago, on February 17, 2005. At the time, The Bean was 19 weeks.
In the cozy room were Hannah, our midwife Martha, and me, for our 2nd prenatal appointment. In giving us her permission to record, Martha laughed that Mickey Hart (of The Dead, et al) also recorded one of his kid's womb-beat. I had to giggle then, and I giggle now: our midwife knows who Mickey Hart is! 2 funny - we found the right place. The Bean, by the way, is due sometime in mid- to late-July.
Martha used a Doppler instrument to amplify the heartbeat. She put the sensor/microphone on Hannah's belly, and manuevers with grace and skill until a beat blasts through the Doppler's speaker. She has to find the pulse, and then hold that position so we all can hear, and soak into the tones. I held a Shure SM-58 microphone close to the Doppler, and tried not to melt in sheer joy. I hang on every single pulse, each precious drop. In just this way, the Mystery has a tempo. It is 140 bpm.
Once I heard Bean's Beat on tape, I knew in a flash: this is the first track on I Am Sound. It is going to be called Womb Boom.
I am totally convinced that if the fabric were purple, or striped with green and brown, the exhibit would have had equal acclaim and attention. Indeed, if Christo and Jeanne-Claude, the creators of this exhibit, had lined the park with 7,500 egg crates the multitudes would have come nonetheless, proclaiming the genius of this couple.
That and more polemic from a wide-ranging, but painfully short, article by Sydney Goldberg, published in Tech Central Station.
Her son, Skyler, is dealing with some hearing loss, a very unfortunate ordeal for mommy and child. It's been weeks of difficult testing, with setbacks upon setbacks dealing with the medical industry. A good turn, though - she reports some positive test results on her blog from 2.19.05:
I got the word late yesterday that Skyler's CT scans were completely normal!!! Given the diseases, disorders, or malformations the scans might have indicated, this is such a relief that the enormity of it still hasn't fully hit me. The next step is to do genetic testing and also an EKG to rule out Prolonged QT Syndrome, a syndrome of arrhythmia coupled with hearing loss. This is very rare and, from what I've read, is more likely to occur with profound not moderate hearing loss, so I'm not in a panic over this possibility. They just want to make sure nothing gets missed.
And she continues, here. To Skyler, I say: all wishes towards a recovery, big man! Lots of friends are rootin' for you.
I love this section from Karen Armstrong's highly readable bio-book, Buddha. From pg. 50 of the paperback:
The sages and prophets of the Axial Age were gradually realizing that egotism was the greatest hindrance to an experience of the absoluate and sacred reality they sought. A man or a woman had to lay aside the selfishness that seems to endemic to our humanity if he or she wished to apprehend the reality of God, brahman or Nibbana. The Chinese philosophers taught that people must submit their desires and behavior to the essential rhythms of life if they wanted to achieve enlightenment. The Hebrew prophets spoke of submission to the will of God. Later, Jesus would tell his disciples that the spiritual quest demanded a death to self: a grain of wheat had to fall into the ground and die before it attained its full potential and bore fruit. Muhammad would preach the importance of islam, an existential surrender of the entire being to God.
[an excerpt my book, A River of One's Own, for you to preview]
To die to form is to allow an object to be created in its most resonant manifestation. To die to form is to allow one's intentions to take whatever outward shapes is the best. When we die to form, we let go of our perfectionist mind - our mind that will forever fiddle - and we let the shape of the object rest in its natural frame, even if we don't initially think this to be the best presentation. It just is, even if we fight it. We find this out, one way or another. Of course, you probably want to ask, "how do I find this out?"
An important factor is the audience. They, more than the artist, determine the most resonant form of an art object in a frame. They do so with their responses. Siskel & Roeper are famous for their 'thumbs up / thumbs down' response, and that is a simple but useful example here. Audience applause, laughter, compliments, encouragement, participation, collaboration - these are all indicators that you have created a proper form to deliver your art to others.
When you allow this to happen, your own attachment to form disappears. Your attachment to perfection eases. You allow your art to have imperfection. You ride along with the audience. You don't get in the way. Your art appears recognizable to others. It is coherant - "co-hear-ant". You and the audience hear, consensually.
When you die to form, you allow your artwork its fullest physical expression through its connection with others. That relationship allows it to take its shape, organically. Instead of a part of your own attachment to form, as an isolated artist, something more magical happens. You allow your art, partnered with an audience, to be a whole.
I revised my article, A Planet-centric iPod, to include the following passage:
In short, iPod technology supports those who want a planet-centric musical appreciation. "Planet" is just that - the whole world. Instead of a mere appreciation of one's own compositions (i.e., "me"-centric) or even an appreciation of one’s own musical tradition and native culture (i.e., "us"-centric), the iPod allows composers to be "all of us"-centric. In one sense, this is simply natural. More and more people have a moral sense that takes the entire world into account, in the areas of politics, economics, and the environment. The same can go for music. The iPod, I believe, is the most efficient way to operate musically from an "all of us"-centric perspective.
"The awards don't really affect anybody's lives in the crowd," Rock said. "Meanwhile, the Nobel Peace Prize, there's no one there. Nobody cares what the scientists are wearing. What are you wearing Professor Allen? 'Pants!'"
I don't know...I hear the Dalai Lama wears a mean robe. Lots of exposed leg if the angle is right. When he walked down the runway in '89, man, everyone talked about the cut of his maroon & gold. A wonderful Versace.
BERKELEY, Calif. (AP) -- "Sideways," the movie about two guys, a road trip and a whole lot of wine, may be sending pinot noir sales upward.
Pinot noir, the relatively obscure red wine beloved by the movie's snobby but sweet character Miles, has been experiencing a gentle upswing in popularity for some years. But the numbers jumped sharply after "Sideways" opened last fall, according to supermarket, drug and liquor store sales data from ACNielsen.
Pinot noir sales reached 370,000 cases for the 12 weeks ending Jan. 15, up nearly 16 percent from the same period a year ago, according to an ACNielsen analysis to be released Monday
Hooray for that. Pinot Noir (1997, Broadley Vineyards, Oregon) was the first wine Hannah and I shared. She moved in with me in Minneapolis. She drove up from Milwaukee, and when she arrived, I gave her a gift of this bottle. We drank it later that night. And how we did indeed drink it.
Hunter S. Thompson, whose life and writing, vivid and quirky reflections of each other, made him one of the principal symbols of the American counterculture, shot and killed himself yesterday at his home near Aspen.
Thompson, 67, was celebrated as a practitioner of an outraged form of personal journalism, offering off-beat ideas and observations in a style that was wildly and vividly his own and that brought him cult-like status and widespread recognition.
His books on politics and society were regarded as groundbreaking among journalists and other students of current affairs in their irreverence and often angry insights.
A great writer in his prime, but the DVD of his career would have the last two decades on the disc reserved for outtakes and bloopers. It was all bile and spittle at the end, and it was hard to read the work without smelling the dank sweat of someone consumed by confusion, anger, sudden drunken certainties and the horrible fear that when he sat down to write, he could only muster a pale parody of someone else’s satirical version of his infamous middle period. I feel sorry for him, but I’ve felt sorry for him for years. File under Capote, Truman – meaning, whatever you thought of the latter-day persona, don’t forget that there was a reason he had a reputation. Read "Hell's Angels." That was a man who could hit the keys right.
Tonight, I baked two loaves of raisin bread. Mind you, I did this from scratch. I'm a bit of a bread baker, though not as often as I like (hope to change that soon). Have been since college, when I trial'n'errored my way through sourdough breads of various ilk (which is like learning how to surf before you swim...silly, dumb, bite-more-off-than-I-can-chew me).
Bread-baking, for me, is an exercise in concentration, frustration release (thru kneading), patience, and faith. Plus, the sh-t tastes good when its still warm. Nothing beats fresh bread. Put some butter on that and OH MY GOD. Do it with friends and there ya go, good ole godhead in your mouth.
These are two loaves of whole wheat, and absolutely stuffed with raisins. I added some cinnamon, and pinches of nutmeg. I used fresh yeast, not the lifeless dried stuff ya find in lil' packages marked 'yeast'. No-no! The stuff I buy is in brick-form, already living and red' to explode when combined with flour, water, and sugar. Here's what popped out of the oven 2nite:
I just pulled 'em out. Theys still pipin' hot. One is for me, Hannah, and The Bean. At the rate Hannah's been eating for the both of them, it might not last until Tuesday. (Ooops, did I say that?) The other loaf is for Ben. I will drop his off to Mr. Rogerson's house tomorrow night, up in Andersonville. That is, if he is nice.
Just kiddin'....he's getting it just for being him, with a heart of gold, and a laugh-riot a minute. (awwww...) Look at what bread-bakin' makes me say.
Tonight, around 8 pm Chicago time, this website reached a new record. One thousand unique visitors this month, this is the barrier we have now crossed. Wow!
The last record high was set last month, at 900 unique visitors/month. But it is 2/3rds the way through this month, and we already demolished that mark. Mind you, one year ago, the high mark was 289. We've come quite a distance.
Huge, enormous, wet-kiss thanks to you all. You readers make this site resonant, and continually inspire me. I renew my pledge to offer daily content about music, art, love, and the kosmos electric. You all continue to read, and continue to send in your reader responses, and who knows the depths we can reach through online collaboration.
And here is a shout out. More long-promised works on integral art philosophy will be released within the next 30 days or so, on my Writings page. Look for them, including my An Integral Art Manifesto.
There have been some internal hurdles to jump over. I wanted to allow some time to pass after my resignation from Integral University. Being so caught up in that wonderous/maddening air I thought (rightly) would keep my art philosophy from the air of, well, real life, outside a sometimes incestuous think-tank environment. It was the rarefied strata of make-it-up-as-you-go group-think. It was a mountain inside an cyber ant-hill. Or something like that. I am thankful for the opportunity to interact with some great scholars, and plenty of dedicated people. But it was nuts, brothers and sisters, just nuts. I wish them all the best, as well as simple sanity.
Thankfully, things have aired out, so it is time to offer the philosophy works to you all. All in run up to my book, which has passed hurdles of its own and is starting to pick up some steam, as well. 2005 will be exciting! Thanks to you all for your participation. This site is an art-project of its own. And as I mentioned here, it is worldwide. Humble harmonic bows to each and every one of you.
Hannah and I found ourselves (somehow) in Des Plaines, IL, this afternoon. It is a northwest suburb of Chicago. We were on the way back from an even further-out locale, Deer Park, IL, where we shopped for maternity clothes for Hannah. It was a successful shop - we found some cute pants.
On the way back, we got lost. Damn infernal Illinois highway system. It made us late to pick up Ben for another shopping trip. (Ok, it was simply our fault, not the system). There are so many stoplights!
But there was a silver lining. We drove, accidently, through Des Plaines. And we passed the very first McDonald's restaurant, in the world. Hannah first noticed it. We did think it strange that there were gates around it, but tossed it off as perhaps under construction or something. But then Hannah noticed another McDonald's, one with cars in the lot and people inside, just across the street, literally less than 200 feet away. It turned out the first is a museum. There are even fake employees, in wax and outfits, there to fake serve you. It is old-world McDonald's, a short-of-living testament to this cultural phenomena, now a world-wide thang.
Now, technically, this was the first Ray Kroc-owned restaurant. He more or less stole the business model from the actual McDonald's brothers, in San Bernadino, CA. He subsequently put them out of business when he opened his own 'McDonald's' down the street.
There are many fascinating (and morally dubious) details to the creation of McDonald's. (As usual, Wikipedia has a good online roundup.) One is that it does not consider itself to be in the hamburger business. It is in the real estate business. They own each building, and rent it to the franchise owners. Burgers simply generate the cash for the tenants to subsequently pay back to McDonald's. To wit, here's Harry J. Sonneborn, one of McDonald's founders:
"We are in the real estate business. The only reason we sell hamburgers is because they are the greatest producer of revenue from which our tenants can pay us rent."
Ever notice where new McDonald's restuarants are usually built? Most of the time, each are built in neighborhoods on the cusp between dangerous and livable, but trending towards the latter. McD's capitalizes on lower real estate costs, which mean lower mortgages. But as the neighborhoods' perceived value rises, McDonald's can charge increased rent, to keep up with the increasing market.
It is all rather brilliant, actually, in cold hard terms. At the very least, this all confirms one thing: there is a lot goin' on behind them golden arches.
Ben Rogerson clued me into this story. I did a web search and found this article, from the Salt Lake Community College Globe. The source material for the Matrix movies is being questioned in court. The plaintiff claims the ideas for the Matrix trilogy were lifted, illegally, by some combination of Joel Silver (producer), Warner Bros, and/or the Wachowski brothers. And the payoff to the real author, Sophia Stewart, if this is the case? It won't be small. To wit:
Monday, October 4th 2004 ended a six-year dispute involving Sophia Stewart, the Wachowski Brothers, Joel Silver and Warner Brothers. Stewart's allegations, involving copyright infringement and racketeering, were received and acknowledged by the Central District of California, Judge Margaret Morrow residing.
Stewart, a New Yorker who has resided in Salt Lake City for the past five years, will recover damages from the films, The Matrix I, II and III, as well as The Terminator and its sequels. She will soon receive one of the biggest payoffs in the history of Hollywood, as the gross receipts of both films and their sequels total over 2.5 billion dollars.
We'll see how this case goes.
One thing I can say is that this puts the Wachowski brothers' resistance to publically talk about their intentions with these films in an interesting light. That is to say, perhaps their entire intent was not artistic purity, but simply to cover their legal booties. I've always thought that their attitude (which isn't their alone, of course, but shared by many) was at best strange, and at worst pretentious. I mean, obviously people draw their own conclusions about art. That interpretations vary is one of the first things you learn when you start talking about art with others.
But there is a good reason ask artists to describe their creations - it is helpful, especially when they describe the conditions that brought about their artwork (what they were reading, where they lived, how many drafts, what their family/home dynamic was like, etc.). Granted, art production for many (if not most) artists is at best a semi-conscious activity. But even semi-conscious accounts from creators add to the richness of art. Ultimately, I think artists who are reticent to talk at all about their art have something to hide. Perhaps Wachowskis do, too.
It is also strange that we haven't heard about this through other news outlets. This is amazing, actually, if you consider how wide the media is these days. If all of this is true, Silver, The Wachowskis, and Warner Bros. ought to issue a public apology, given the enormity of the effect the trilogy has had in the world, and the money it has made.
Stewart offers a reason for this virtual unanimous silence:
"The reason you have not seen any of this in the media is because Warner Brothers parent company is AOL-Time Warner... this GIANT owns 95 percent of the media... let me give you a clue as to what they own in the media business... New York Times papers/magazines, LA Times papers/magazines, People Magazine, CNN news, Extra, Celebrity Justice, Entertainment Tonight, HBO, New Line Cinema, Dreamworks, Newsweek, Village Roadshow... many, many more!... They are not going to report on themselves. They have been surpressing my case for years..."
But no more. Hers might be a somewhat paranoid view of the media, but factually it isn't off. Now that the case is going to go to trial, perhaps coverage of it will incrase. But intellectual property issues are always quite grey. It is near impossible to keep legal record of the creative process.
[Update - Coolmel picked up on my blog entry, and then blogged about it on his site.]
In August of 2002, me and four close friends performed in Minneapolis. It was my going-away show, because Hannah and I (and our dog, Mickey) moved to Brooklyn 10 days later. There was a great turnout of friends, friends of friends, and people I didn't even know. The first Matthew Dallman Band performance was a riotous hoot.
From that show comes the first half of the Curious Brew album. That is, except for one song. I decided, when I put together my Spiral Suite album, I took one song from that performance and made it that album's closer. I felt (and still feel) that a somethin' cooking would send off the album well.
I created a preview page for that track - MacPhail's Jungle. At the time I wrote this piece, I was first getting into jungle/drum'n'bass music, such as Grooverider, Goldi, and Roni Size. From the first time I heard this music, I thought that it would easily transfer to acoustic/electric musicians for performance in more conventional ways (i.e., non electronic).
And I particularly thought that the riff from this track would be perfect for my good friend, Matt MacPhail. I was very happy with it. He rocks, and he really jelled with the drummer, Timm Elmquist (another good friend).
Dear readers, I find this fascinating. I have a webstats server where I can see where people are lookin' within MD.com, and from where they come. Here are the countries that have hit my blog, this month alone.
United States Great Britain Japan China Canada Germany Australia Netherlands Sweden
Or in other words, this is where y'all are comin' in from. I'm thrilled and humbled. Thanks to all of you, The Daily Goose has become an international collaborative effort. My appreciation to each and every one of you!
This is just a quick note to tell you that Bean and I had our second prenatal visit today.
All is well!
We listened to Bean's heartbeat, again, and Matthew brought his 4-track recorder. So, the exam room turned in to a regular music studio! I think this means that Bean and I are now session guys. So, call us if you need a rhythm section.
Matt plans to put up a track of the heartbeat, so that y'all can stream it, on his website. It will be linked to through his blog. I put a link to it below. Look for it in the next day or so.
Right now, you'll just find some embarrasing pictures of me and a friend goofing around last night.
Also, we had our first ultrasound! I'm attaching some jpg files to this email, so that you can see, too!
The first is of Bean's whole body. You should be able to find the skull, spine, and see littlle nubbies that are hands and feet too. Martha, our midwife, said that Bean looked like a very wise baby, and that Bean's hands were in Namaste position (yoga prayer position).
The second is of the face, from head on. Look for eye sockets and where the mouth and nose would be. This one is kind of spooky to look at...very "White Noise" w/ Michael Keaton.
It's hard enough to see on the print outs we have, so the scanned in version may not be the clearest thing in the universe. I'll have them on hand to show off to everyone we see in person, though!
No word on Bean's sex. We had been looking forward to finding out. Apparently, Bean's little parts were, well, just too little! There has been a great deal of speculation that Bean is a boy, so place your wagers now, ladies and gentlemen! My theory is that Bean must've been listening in screenwriting class the other day, when teach told us that suspense makes for good storytelling! We should be able to know the sex in another few weeks.
We'll go over the ultrasound report at our next visit with Martha. They ultrasound tech took measurements of different bones, the heart, etc. According to her, our EDD (estimated date of delivery) might be 2 weeks later than we had thought! BUT, Martha said that in the second trimester, things can measure differently, so she wanted to wait and go over things next time.
And, tangentially, I found out that I have A+ blood. I never knew my blood type before, so that was fun to learn. And, if anyone needs any, it's $500 a pint! Just kidding!
We wrapped up our visit with a tour of the birthing rooms at St. Elizabeth's. The whole staff was very friendly. There are 4 birthing rooms, three with jacuzzi tubs and showers, and the fourth just has a shower. We'll be able to control how bright the lights are, to move around, and generally be comfortable for our stay there. And, the post-partum rooms all have a little bed for Bean, one for me (of course!) and a fold out chair for Matt. Very cozy.
St. Elizabeth's, by the by, is in Wicker Park. That's the Chicago neighborhood where John Cusak's character in "High Fidelity" had a record store. So, we have a high fidelity Bean!
We leave in 20 minutes. Today is the ultrasound. The ultrasound. Sound in its higher form. I'll say! And we might just find out a little more about The Bean. Exciting stuff!
We are off to see the midwives, the wonderful midwives of Bean. Will report back later.
...what a proper name is for my morning vocal practice (exercises for the voice accompanied by a guitar which plays the part of a drone). The name, simply: Tone Yoga. You heard it here first. And you'll hear it here again, many times over.
(I describe my entire morning practice in an essay called Attention, Love, Music, and Witness, here, which includes pixels about the vocal practice, or henceforth, tone yoga.)
Apparently, Sen. John Cornyn (TX), in a speech this morning, became the first senator to use the word 'blog' in the Senate. The relevant excerpt:
"The news media is of course the main way people get information about government. The media pushes government entities, and elected officials and bureaucrats and agencies to release information that the people have a right to know, occasionally exposing waste, fraud and abuse. And hopefully, more often than that, letting the American people know what a good job their public officials are doing. But we've also seen in recent years the expansion of other outlets for sharing information outside of the mainstream media – to online communities, discussion groups, and blogs. I believe all these outlets can and do contribute to the health of our political democracy."
Interesting how the world is a big echo chamber. Blogs are everywhere in the world right now, and have been for several years strong. Today, they echoed in the U.S. Senate for the first time. A ping, and a pong.
I added a PDF of my professional resume to Resume & Bio. When I'm not a composer, writer, real estate investor, webmaster, and hubby, I have a different hat. It is a hat for the professional world of 9 to 5. I have 7 years of experience in this world, since college. I got to buy bread and bring home the tofu like anyone else.
So in this world, I need a job. With the baby on that way, this is more the case than ever. I'm doing everything I can through traditional channels in Chicago. I have three agencies in search of a good fit, and I send out resumes daily. The market here is a bit slow, and I'm still learning how the city works. I've been contracting for two years, but it is time for something permanent.
So the short story. In addition to everything you see on this website (original articles, scholarship, music, and photography), I have plenty of other experience. There is lots of editorial experience in publishing - copy editor, proofreader, word processor. I have plenty of computer skills, and can learn any software quickly. I can work on site or via telecommute.
I have also taught a professional growth seminar, been the managing editor for a web magazine, and done this little thing called Integral University, where on a volunteer basis. I was the director of the development of the art website, an international effort of mass collaboration. My ability to master "change management" was high, and still is.
So take a peek if you or someone you know has a job opportunity for me. Arts think tank? Or arts policy organization? My ideal job would put my diverse skills together in some way that brings meaning to me, my employer, my clients, and the planet. My skills are highly adaptable, and I have managed/directed in different environments. On the practical level, I'm looking for a good working environment with colleagues who maintain a professional relationship.
I'm well aware that a shout-out on my blog is a long shot, but hey, it is my website, so I figured what da heck. Forgive if this offends, dear readers. This sort of post will be rare. And in truth, my job income helps make this website possible, so there is a connection. Everything is connected in some way or another, isn't it?
I thought y'all might enjoy this email from Hannah. She sent it to me this morning (which happens to be the first day of her grad school spring semester). Imagine yourself in my shoes. I just arrived at work after a long commute to and from a job interview. I pop into my work email, and there is this:
From: Hannah Dallman Subject: sad little sandwich
in my lap sits a very sad little tuna salad sandwich in a triangle shaped box from jewel. staring at it, i think to myself that i really should pack a lunch the night before, because then maybe i'd make the effort to make egg salad or some other such sandwich fodder...
now, i wait for various individuals to return from their lunch hours so that i might pick up a printer, 3 hole punch and tape dispenser. ah! office supplies!
now, i will kill some time by looking up northbrook mall on the internet and then maybe adding some stuff to Bean's registry. the big question; should we do without a changing table? it seems short lived, in terms of function, and we'd only need some shelves to keep diapering supplies readily at hand. not to mention there is nowhere to put the damn thing!
oh, this reminds me. can you try to get your office cleaned up/out in the next week or so? it's like an obstacle course to get to my clothes!
For god's sake, it was 90 minutes each way to/from a job interview this morning. Love those suburban Chicago highways (bit 'o irony). It was mostly stop and go in the rain. Talk about an opportunity to try to just witness and detach from frustration. Here it was.
I used the time for singing. I attached the iPod and clicked over to my tamboura drone. It droned the whole way there and back. Me and it made a layer of sound that glided all the way from Chicago to Lisle, IL, and back in a ride of sonic union.
I sang unision for 15 minutes. Then a perfect fifth below for another 15. Then to a perfect fifth above for, you guessed it, 15. There were two more - major third below, and a major third above. I call this my cardinal directions. In order, reception, offering, passion, and compasssion. As in, that is what each interval feels like to me.
And after all of this focused tone practice? I improvised to my heart's content. In whatever silly way felt right, at that moment. For when you focus, you ought to balance that out with equal parts release.
So if I get the job (I hope), then this is morning and evening commute. I'll find my tones, and hopefully the road frustrations will fall away like rain.
Greg Kot is one of Chicago's best writers on popular music, and thus, one of America's best. In an article for the Chicago Tribune, he wrote a masterful examination of U2's recent strategies to increase the channels of their music's distribution in the world. A kosmic kwote:.
Over the last few years, the notion that U2 was a rock band fired by idealism, that it was somehow different from other corporate-rock juggernauts, has eroded. In its place has come the perception that U2 becoming a bigger band doesn't necessarily make it a better one.
Kot explores the various deals the band has signed, as a way to stay relevant in short-attention span reality of pop music culture. He also includes some striking comments by long-time U2 fans and Chicago rock promoters, commentary on their iPod connection, and their recent ticket debacle. The only major angle missing from the piece is direct comments from the band to Kot. But you can't blame him because the band, he says, repeatedly declined to be interviewed. He does include band-quotes from secondary sources.
My three movement, Suite For A New Family, is part of my Curious Brew record. I composed the three pieces for guitar on the occasion of, well, my new family on my Dad's side. There is one piece each for my step-sister, Natalya, and my step-brother, Ruslan. The third piece is for Dad and Jan, his wife. I performed it at their wedding, during the ceremony at a Unitarian Universalist church in Brookfield, Wisconsin.
You can read the fuller story, and listen to the music, if you click the preview page here. I hope you enjoy.
Saturday, Hannah and I took a walk through Chicago's Lincoln Park Zoo area. Being that it is, well, February, the animals were inside. And since we showed up 15 minutes before the zoo closed, the short story on the animal front is simple: we didn't see any.
But that wasn't the point. We wanted to take a romantic walk. On that front, we succeeded in every way. Yes, it was a tid bit nipply cold. Yes, there were no animals. And yes, there wasn't any hot chocolate stands as Hannah wished. But the thing about it was that we held hands and walked without reason. It was really quite nice.
I guess it isn't 100% true to say that we didn't see any animals. This guy would probably argue with me.
He sits near the lake-side entrance. He guards the gift shop. Does a damn good job at it, from all accounts.
What did we talk about? Oh, a million inconsequential things. I love those million things, in whatever order each arise. Conversations between lovers - now that is mystery.
We did talk about The Bean. (Of course.) In addition to our typical expectant parent giggles, we talked practical. We have been tossin' around the idea'er that we would purchase a 'co-sleeper' for the baby. This would attach directly to our bed, and sit next to it, alongside (in our case) Hannah. The plan is for at least the first three months to do it this way. Hannah also wants to bring the babe into bed some nights during this stretch. And if he/she needs some mother's milk, then Hannah don't gotta git up in da middle of the nite. All in all, it sounds like a very sound plan.
So we talked about that. And clothes. And diapers. And schools. And all the things we hope to get from showers.
We kept up a good walk pace. Hannah was cold. I'm surprised she made it as long as she did (90 minutes). She is 5'2", which means she gets cold quick. But Saturday eve, like me she really wanted to take a walk. We both been dyin' to do so. We love our walks for exercise, intimacy, and even career-talk. And we love our walks because we love to look at real estate.
But there wasn't any real estate, cuz we were along the lake. In fact, we walked all the way to the water's edge. It was a kinda spooky evening. We looked out into the vastness, and it was creepy. We couldn't see where the water met the sky. Everything was foggy out there. Near the shore it wasn't foggy. It was like we were lost at sea. Of course, on land and all that.
At water's edge, I turned. My eyes lit up, and I whipped out the Samsung phone/camera (of ye old Cellph Shots fame). I pictured this:
This was actually the second try. After the first, Hannah tutored me on classic image presentation. She introduced me to the -- bum, bum bum BUM - "rule of thirds". I won't bother go into it now, but for those that know, what do you think? Not bad, eh?
So we trod back to our car. Hannah wanted coffee, and we found one of our favorite shoppes - The Bourgeois Pig, on Fullerton. I got soy mocha, Hannah got an Izzy (pear flavored). We split a plate of hummos. And the chats continued. Later that night, it was cheese fondue at our place, over still more chats.
Good times all around. That was Saturday. We still had our Sunday Valentine's thang, and our tonight Valentine's thang. So things are good.
Composers can mix sonorities. That is our business, our daily practice, our goal-less goal. There is always new and different ways to mix tone. But we have to learn tone before we can experiment with tone.
The best way to learn tone? With your voice. Over a drone. One tone at a time, and then many strung together. There are over 20 modes to experiment with, in the equal temperament tradition of the West. There are more once you include other cultures' tonal traditions. Spend time with each, and think of your own. Or as Allaudin says, "Invest in weird modes."
I like that: invest, as you would in real estate, stock equity, or a film. Invest, and the rewards come to fruition over time. A little a day, and before you know it, you are rich - in tone.
Machaut - Motets (Hilliard Ensemble) Stravinsky - Rite of Spring Patty Griffin - Living With Ghosts Various - Persian Classical Music from Iran Phish - 30 min "Tweezer", from A Live One
In case you haven't had a chance to peep it, here's the first two paragraphs:
The iPod from Apple is probably the most significant invention for composers since the piano. I'll risk the sound of an advertisement, simply because I think it is true. It is a pop culture phenomenon (over 10 million sold as of January 2005) that has brought forth an iPod Nation of passionate fans, some of whom participate in iPod DJ parties, and all of whom take their white, plastic toy with them everywhere they go. It is an obsession in personal flexibility. The iPod offers the ability to enjoy music in new ways.
But the iPod offers something else, more fundamental and perhaps more astonishing. With an iPod, a person can cultivate a truly world ear in the midst of an everyday life. If we pick our songs right, we can hear virtually all styles and traditions of music on record. We can train our ears to be in tune with the ears of the world’s musicians.
I think the effects of the iPod will be felt in the next 10 years, after music at the world level is really absorbed by composers. This is very exciting. What would all of the planet in song sound like?
It is Sunday. In the groove of Olivia Newton John - let's get spiritual. Check out this question and answer with Ramana Maharshi. The answers are his words. (hat tip, this site):
What is the nature of the mind?
What is called 'mind' is a wondrous power residing in the Self. It causes all thoughts to arise. Apart from thoughts, there is no such thing as mind. Therefore, thought is the nature of mind. Apart from thoughts, there is no independent entity called the world. In deep sleep there are no thoughts, and there is no world. In the states of waking and dream, there are thoughts, and there is a world also. Just as the spider emits the thread (of the web) out of itself and again withdraws it into itself, likewise the mind projects the world out of itself and again resolves it into itself. When the mind comes out of the Self, the world appears. Therefore, when the world appears (to be real), the Self does not appear; and when the Self appears (shines) the world does not appear. When one persistently inquires into the nature of the mind, the mind will end leaving the
