HAHA.

I love this video... as a transplanted midwesterner, this is just too much. Portland drives and all that... Eugene's a little better, but man oh man it's ridiculous. After the icy Indiana winters and four years of living in Michigan, I can say I have never seen so many snow chains on cars than I have just in this week. Poor bike people though... they'll have to wait. Snow's almost melted by now.

The Arctic Blast has Passed.

Merry!

Snow has devastated the entire state of Oregon, it seems, and Lisa's schooling has been cancelled two days in a row. The following picture depicts Santa (the Spirit of Christmas) o'ertaking the tree (representing the natural world and the northwestern way of life) a la King Kong (which represents awesome).

The car on the bottom right is not really Santa, but a messenger sent to warn the nations of impending societal collapse. The lights over the window are just for show.

Ice Caverns

It's amazing how warm it is this time of year in Oregon... I rarely wear a coat during the daytime and there is no practical need for a scarf. We have to make our own ice and glinting spectral light, so the other day we headed out to Goodwill and bought some wine glasses for musical purposes. And bless her heart, on Saturday Lisa let me take home a glockenspiel from the elementary school where she teaches. With the aid of her back-up violin bow, the icy caves are almost complete...

A Fondness of Winter

Last night I wrote a little dittle that I'm calling "A Fondness of Winter". It had a familiar smell to the likes of Grizzly Bear and/or Laurie Anderson, I think.

Somebody's seeing angels, aren't ya
Some weaving through the raindrops, aren't ya
These wooden walls are crying for dust

When hair gets long
Happy homes sing happy songs
Changing faces
Happy homes will sing along

Its easy to for get a phone call, angel
They sleeping in the morning/evening shadows, angel
The winter's feeling warmer, aren't ya

When snow won't fall
Happy homes keep happy walls
No ice keeping frozen memories
Happy homes won't cry at all

I am wary to post these lyrics up immediately because A) they are due to change and B) some noonan might come around and pretend that HE'S the poeter. Screw him, folks.


Lisa and I went walking today down the long and legendary 'Leventh Avenue, dishing out resumes for any job - saltwater fish emporiums, incense-hazed CD barns, and local banks. Pray for success!

Thursday night at 9 I am playing some jazz with Dave O'Toole, and Chris Orsinger (el al) at Jo Fed's. The rumors are going around that this place is on the brink of closing, which would be sad for Eugene's fledgling (but dazzling) jazz scene. Come on down for an overpriced drink and some great atmosphere and better jazz! You are reading my BLOG!

Look! I'm trying to start a band through Craig's List!
Look! I'm trying to sell my piano through Craig's List!

Red Dots

There's a diddly little song that's been nudging me for a while, I've been calling it "Little Bird". It's clangy and full of twists and turns, and I am proud to hear some Deerhoof influence crop up a bit in my musical language. It is an actual rock song, something that is few and far between in my adventures - it will be a JOY to dismantle it into the jazz-folk bizz that I tend to tuttle around with. I've already begun to voice some Rhodes parts, and I have a few metallic pat-a-pans in mind for my colander... if only I had a disposable violin bow.

In the shower this fine morning, I saw in my mind's eye the radio towers that jut up on every other horizon and glow red at night. I started to riff a little about it, and wrote something on the shower wall in the steam. I forgot what I wrote, but I'm going too keep on riffing about it in my mind until it poops out something grand. I started to consider more dramatic and noisy possibilities on my daily résumé drop, as I was listening to Todd's A Wizard, A True Star on my eePud.

I went back to feel alone there
I went back to wipe it clean
I took the lights and radio towers out of my dreams

I will, however, openly acknowledge that it will be a chore not to recycle the image à la Microphones. AWWW shucks.