Sand through my hourglass...: 10/01/2009

10.31.2009

A PLACE TO LAY MY HEAD

Keith made me a new desk!
I mentioned rustic, but this far surpasses anything I imagined.
Beautiful work, boyfriend o' mine.
Blue ribbon, trophy, ten star work.

10.28.2009

OH GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Ogre knows how to party, how to get down.
Hang out with him once.
You'll be hooked for life.

10.23.2009

BIT PART

After Atlas Sound (SO GOOD), this wrist band was my favorite part of the show.

Following that, the bass just rattled my lungs for 30 minutes.

I finally took the high road. Literally.
I'm still out on how I feel about the Standard Hotel. Something about it seems messy to me, but I found myself liking it in person.
Get there and lay claim to one of the many pimped out wooden lounge seats on wheels.
A great addition to the city for certain.

Dopeness

Saw this on NYCTV late last night and I live in jeans and don't wear tall fancy shoes but now I want to run around in a long flowy dress and jump about like a deer.

Hello long lost friend....

Hope to see you around Christmas time, Brian Scavone.
And if not, I keep the faith that we'll run into each other on a random mountain somewhere or in the middle of the desert on a lone highway.
It's happened before. It'll happen again.

10.20.2009

FALL

is in the house.

10.16.2009

SO PSYCHED

TUESDAY! WITH ATLAS SOUND!
I'm catching up on my showgoing, and it feels good.
Also, blogger is lame sometimes, and one side of this video seems to be cut off.

10.15.2009

NO AGE

Finally. It has happened to me.

WOODS

Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood stuff, people.
Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood stuff.

ROCK. PAPER. SCISSORS.

10.13.2009

Hope Sandoval & The Warm Inventions

Upon arrival at the show, we were immediately told no cameras, no photos whatsoever, phones included, by request of Hope Sandoval herself.

All day I had dreamed of getting the perfect shot of her, but when that first song started, so came her voice.

And I forgot all about photos.

I was frozen.

And so was everyone around me.

Ethereal and mesmerizing and exactly how I'd imagined it all these years.
You only catch fleeting glimpses of her in the spatters of light, but she's breathtakingly beautiful and fragile and demands your attention.

And then, as they began the fourth song, she stopped with a wave of her hand and talked about not being able to hear herself and "heads will roll" and she even commented on how much she "fucking hates" New York City.

There was a collective silence from pretty much everyone in attendance.

She then went on about the three hour sound check and about possibly "throwing a tantrum" and then just up and walked off.

Everybody around us began telling stories of how this is the norm, how she walks off all the time, how sometimes she doesn't come back.

Surely she just crushed all the life out of the show.

Fuck this, I said.

Twenty minutes passed and miraculously I still waited.

People began leaving and I threatened aloud to do the same.

And then just as she had left, she was back and right before our eyes unearthed the best show I've seen in a very, very long time.

And the projections got better and better, became more intense.

Two film projectors became one man's puppets that he danced to the music by cupping and waving his hands in front of the lenses, flowers rotting and unfolding, couples embracing and collapsing, the surface of the sun and a lone ballerina swimming up the back wall and then down.

And as angry as I was, as much as I wanted to hate the show, hiss at the stage, breathe whiskey into these words... When that last note rang out, I just couldn't.

That voice. That haunting, echoing, wrenching, massive, breathy voice made me take it all back.

Though you are surely a diva, Hope Sandoval, I'd maybe come back for more.