There’s a Goner Records bumper sticker on the water cooler at the Highline. That’s so cool. Continue reading Doom Metal
Category Archives: Art
Nothing Better 4
*****
Janet spent the next hour trying to get through to the proper authorities to report the murder of her dogs. I straightened up her living room for the first half hour and tried to talk her off the phone for a while after that. Insisting through tears that they will be with her any minute I assured her I was right next door if she needs me. Quietly clicking the door shut I turn toward home. I want to help Jan but also believe you can’t get anything productive done over the phone. Stewing over the whole scenario I turn the corner and am looking down at a rotund polyester belly.
Knocked from my trance I’m face-to-face with a pear-shaped officer and his short female partner. They are both smiling but neither really mean it.
Family Matters
My mother is a narcissist. I’m of the opinion people should be accountable for their own problems. Blaming others isn’t productive and often misguided. Even if it’s true. But in this case I feel the need to speak up. I’m not the only one and I know it. If I really want to play the blame game I’d go straight to the top. The entire Boomer generation is trapped in a bubble of post-war narcissism that’s been perpetuated for over 50 years. From ritual holiday celebrations to the narrow-minded legislative battles waged in a decrepit government, the trappings of Boomer culture hang over this nation like cobwebs. Continue reading Family Matters
Nothing Better 3
Nothing Better 2
Nothing Better
I adjust my hips on the 2-person vinyl bench seat. The driver’s profile sways as the bus trundles down the south end of I-5. Another 17 minutes until home. The setting sun paints the horizon with pinks and oranges, catching the contour of every wisp of cloud in the sky. The white ice caps of the mountains stand out like neon punctuation as telephone poles measure out the frames of my existence. I understand why people rubberneck a car accident. It’s probably the most interesting thing they’ll see that week.
The bus is nearly empty after rush hour traffic. The trip south is short one unless you are trying to get past downtown. Then it feels like forever. Stopping and starting at all the familiar stops. Bar. Lobby. Noodle shop. Starbucks. Bar. ATM. Cafe. Smoke shop. Noodle shop. Bar. I wonder how some places continue to exist. I don’t see people enter or exit. The doors could be painted on brick walls for all I can tell. I wonder if I’ll ever get off the bus and find out for myself. Even the thought smacks of effort. Continue reading Nothing Better
Metal Show
In Memphis, local metal and punk bands are booked hand-in-hand. It’s the only way the scene can survive down there. The amalgamation of all loud music into the same niche exposed me to more metal than I’d choose and the raw energy is enthralling. I feel like showmanship counts more than usual when metalheads take the stage. The music demands a presence that other genres don’t have, except maybe pop stars. In Seattle, local bands have room to breathe into their genre of choice and full-on scenes of people to perform for. I’m not convinced this freedom makes for better music. Continue reading Metal Show
Wearing Down
I’ve had a daily obligation to yoga for about 7 days now. From 2pm until 7pm I am in yoga class. Only about an hour of that is actually doing yoga. The rest is getting myself clean, dressed and transported to the studio in time for the 4:30 class and then there’s another hour on the bus after class to get back downtown. It’s a big daily time commitment for a hobby. Something only the privileged can really manage easily. So ironically, if I had a job by now, I’d never be able to enjoy this yoga intensive. That’s my silver lining to unemployment. Continue reading Wearing Down
Winning Pictures?
I was encouraged to go take pictures at the Bernie Sanders rally because I might get “the shot”. One I can sell.
I asked, “to whom”?”
You know, newspapers. The media. All it takes is one. Just that perfect shot that … does what? Humiliates someone? Idealizes someone else? Grabs attention?
I wish that could motivate me. The idea that there’s a picture I can take that would be worth something to someone else. I just don’t have that connection wired in right now. Besides, I’m pretty certain I’d need to promote my pictures in some way to get the attention of anyone’s monetary resources. It’s just not in me. If I got the chance to profit off of a random picture I’d happen to get credit for I wouldn’t see it as “selling out” my art. It’d be more like selling a jar of tears as snake oil.
I try to keep my parasitic profiting to a minimum unless it involves the upper middle class. Kinda like a holistic Robin Hood.