nocturnal weeks: trade winds on the highway and the burden of Prometheus

"I hear the ruin of all space, shattered glass and toppling masonry" - james joyce

"In this loveless everyday life eroticism is a substitute for love" -henri lefebvre

"A rose is without a why" -angelus silesius

"The storming of the winter palace will now come in the monsoon season" -andy merrifield

i have weird obsessions. i eat a lot of avocado, i like to watch the way coffee dries on spoons, i cannot sleep in the same spot for more than two weeks straight, i tend to deal in totalities, i refuse to wear pants in bed, i have an unhealthy fixation on long shadows the last hour before the sun sets, and so on... as far as art goes this year i've fixated on images of chairs, old books, owl (burrowing owls being the most delicious variety), images of nature from the 1800's, long exposure shots at night and now my new muse seems to be balloons (preferable of the red variety)...

so i've been listening to the new foreign born and white rabbits albums over and over lately. perhaps this is because i can sing in the range (by this i mean i can sing in the range of rod stewart), or maybe i just need a break from 'math rock' which had been the main noise coming from my apartment window for the last month. either way, there is something to be said about simple and straight forward rock songs that can bring about visceral feelings and capture the most intricate emotions with the simplest howls and chords... the cadence and rhythm of everyday life, what seems both familiar and foreign, leisure and alienation, creation and routine, speaks is audible tones to those who listen.

"They've crucified the sun! They've crucified the sun!" - Henri Lefebvre