May 30, 2002

Morning Bike Commute: North Coast Line

Hammock Report Volume One: I think I've finally found an adequate way to hang my hammock on my front patio. It's a little iffy, but I think with structural reinforcements and some ball bearings it will hold. I seriously think my neighbors are using the hammock while I'm away at work, and at first I found this to be annoying but I figure if it's not being used by me than they should enjoy it whilst I'm slaving away at work.

These summer nights are what I'm all about. You really have to come up with a strong offer to get me out of my hammock during the week. After the bike commute and staring at "the internet" all day, my return to the sanctuary has taken on an almost Mr. Rodgers like quality. I slowly remove the work/bike shoes and slide into the Flips, gently remove an icy cold beverage from the fridge, and retire to the hammock and dream about the next thing I'm going to build out of wood, or ponder whether or not I should scratch my new Mantovani record on the turntable or not. I'm not sure I want to ruin it and I don't know if I'll be able to find another one. I use to play guitar out here in my hammock but that really didn't make the neighbors happy at all. And really the hammock is all about doing nothing at all. I wish I had a huge Turntable setup like that one guy in that French movie Hate. I would set it up right here on my patio and face the Double Cabs (Jon B. do you still have my P.A.?) out onto Holly Avenue and Rock some Big L or some Kool G Rap until people came out of their homes scratching their head and pumping their fists up at me.

I've bought a long enough telephone cable to reach all the way out here. Now I can have my lap top out here and blog on my belly. I can also watch Cable T.V. from here although the sound is a bit muffled.

Here are some more graf pictures from the street; sitting here in my hammock, I AM all about the streets. The Latin show posters are the best art I can find in the city right now.

May 29, 2002

Deaf, Dumb & Blind @ The Babylon Gallery

I need to see more Art. Art being made. Art that makes you laugh. Art that is not so easily consumed. Art that hits you over the head. I want to bath in it and cover my walls, floors, and ceilings with it.

The current exhibition at the Babylon could keep me busy until next year. Some real good stuff here. The kicker was that a kid that used to be a camper of mine, when I was a Camp Counselor at Hidden Pines Ranch, is now one of the best Graf Artists in town and he's now taking some of his stuff off the street and into the Galleries. Or does that happen the other way, I forget. When I first met Justin, he was a little suburban kid from Stillwater that ran around with a Florida Marlins Baseball hat on and asked me questions about Lollapalooza and his favorite band "Primus". I can't remember if Justin was older than the rest of the campers or whether he was just very advanced and liked hanging with the adults more than the other kids but he was on another level.

It wasn't until a couple years ago, when I was working on the filming of Minneapolis Massive, that I ran into a 17 year old Justin again. He had left Stillwater far behind and was living for Graffiti and travel and Artistic elevation. It was great to see how much the Primus kid had developed. I guess this is what community and roots feels like. Feels good.

Everyone needs to buy more Art. Support local (and living) artists!

May 24, 2002

I've probably floated through Target stores more than a few hundred times in my lifetime. I didn't think there was a piece of real estate at Target that I hadn't contemplated a purchase or needless accessory at some point in my life but the other night Kelly had to pick up a gift for a baby shower she's going to this weekend and it immediately hit me upon entering the newborn micro-human aisles that this was totaly new and uncharted Target territory for me. I discovered some wonderful things there and some downright frightening odd ones as well. On the wonderful tip, I found that they make a baby hooded towel, which I think is just too dope. It's kinda like a robe but it's defintely towel material and it's got a hood!! Kinda of a Don Ho meets Muhammad Ali type of lounge wear for the little drooler. I think someone really dropped the ball not making a version of this gear for the post-diaper crowd. I would love, and would rock daily in my hammock, a hooded towel.

On a different vibe, was this crazy stuffed bear, that when you twisted this knob on it's back would begin to make these terrible sounds like a dying Darth Vader, which I learned from reading the packaging is supposed to be an audio emmulation of sounds from the mother's womb. I know. It's bizarre. You gotta check it out for yourself. Now, I'm not sure why I find this slightly creepy, but I definitely remember something in my childhood psych class in college about not letting your child dwell in infantile stages. I thought the whole point was to move 'em on, like, OK your done with that whole womb thing now get ready to do some talking and walking and here's some Jay-Z and Herbie Hancock to fall asleep to.

Well it's obvious that I've got a heck of a lot to learn from the baby aisle at Target and so I will now make it part of my routine to pay a visit and see what new things are being pushed on the net-yet-ready-to-shop demographic. (editorial and typographical corrections by k.d. 5/27/02)

May 23, 2002

Too much fast-forward thinking and rewind selekta music and movies all dropping around me and flooring my sensibilities that it's hard to concentrate on what's actually happening on planet earth. It just can't be as interesting as what's coming out of my headphones or what's on that film. Catching this mornings stories and sniffing the evening news I look for the next rocket ship number nine out of here. What's going down on Jupiter? Are they having budget troubles there too?

The Scratch Movie blazed a hyperbola over my cranium tonight and left me with a whole google of questions about innovation and ascension, property rights and soul. Why do people hide their gift from the world when to share it would mean that others would transform their gift into sweeter smelling flowers? I am "Proud" of the Scratch movie just watching it. The magnetic energy coming from the cats and their cosmonic devices create a future architecture for living sound structures that point to a place beyond the sun and elevate craft to something altogether astro-mystical.

The new space music coming from DJ Shadow on The Private Press, has been worth the seven year wait. A new recipe for soul music. Keep diggin the dusty galaxies. Always.

The new recipe for elastic alter-destiny future jazz music comes from the German co-op Jazzanova. The debut album In Between has more compelling textures than a French impressionistic gallery, and if Myth demanded another type of music, this is it.

May 22, 2002

My Florida pictures are finally up. It took me awhile. I thought I had lost them all to my ill fated #@$*!? Macintosh, but I found them hiding in the lost recesses of some bizarre corrupted file. I think my hard drive is planning a hostile take over. Where the hell is that iphoto program? I really must install it and catch up to the 21st Century.

May 21, 2002

Things move at a fantastic pace. Stop. A full weekend. First things first. A new section on afrojet that I'm experimenting with is called "on the hi fi". It's an apple script called i tunes track info and it harnesses the power of Mac OSX and itunes. It grabs whatever song is currently being played on my itunes and uploads for all to see. Clicking on the "artist" opens up a google search. It wont change the world but it's kinda fun. It's still pretty buggy. If there isn't anything in the "on the hi-fi" box it means that i'm not listening to anything and/or it has crashed.

I can't believe how hooked I have become on reality TV as of late. I seriously watched the full three hours of the Survivor season finale and enjoyed the whole thing. The bible thumper Vecepia won I was not pleased. Actually hell I didn't want either of them to win. I am already excited for the season five in Thailand. The location looks beautiful.

I enjoyed "About a Boy" very much and found the Soundtrack to be even better. Jodi lent me The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky on Saturday. Which is also about a boy, Charlie, and his tale of growing up in the ninth grade. It's one of the best books i've ever read. It reminded me of high school in a way that was like being right back in the mix again. I am bummed Mr. Chbosky hasn't written anything else. He needs to. The combination of seeing About A boy and reading Charlie's tale put a nice old school tint on the whole weekend.

Found great things at garage sales and Kelly bought her first ever garage sale purchase. Old Fine Young Cannibals and Modern English Tapes. The high school nostalgia just kept creeping into the weekend. I bought some great records and a space age atlas put out by Rand McNally in the 60's. It's filled with micro graphics of the moon and and a map of our solar system.

Built a garden bed box with Jodi last night after spending $240.00 to give the Brougham a new Muffler. It was sounding like a drag racer. We employed some avant-guard wood working techniques, but in the end it all looked pretty damn good. The sun was setting and we enjoyed a smoke and a beer and looked at the completed project and talked about the Wallflower book. Very nice. I need to buy a house. soon.

May 17, 2002

Morning Bike Commute: The Concrete Donut.

My morning bike commute was a bit cold this morning but it gave me pause to realize that this must be the opening of the Garage Sale season. There were dozens of signs along the frayed electrical post and other street-side homegrown concoctions. I can't wait. I want to make one great score this weekend. Since I can't go see the new Micheal Moore movie yet, I think I will be listening to the sounds of Badly Drawn Boy and taking in the new Nick Hornby movie, About a Boy.

May 16, 2002

Lo-fi solutions to high tech problems rate up there with Beautiful Art and Fruit Loops on a Sunday morning. Love it. Looooove it. In a postscript to yesterdays post about bad music killing iMacs and other PC's, it looks like the cleaver ones have found ways around this bit of Corporate bullheadedness by using two of the best inventions of the last century: Sharpie Pens and Duct Tape. With a quick modification of your encrypted Celine Dion CD it's once again ready to rip. Here is a list of the known CD's encrypted with this garbage, Just in case you might own them.

I don't consider myself a sci-fi movie buff in the slightest, but the movie Gattaca delivered a great story, was well conceived with gorgeous cinematography. A real smart movie that didn't fall into the trappings of most Sci-fi flix. I also love the movie because the future described in the movie, one where humans are categorized and comodified from their first breath, seems all so very close. To wit, Gregory Stock, a Germ line Engineer, was pimping his book, Redesigning Humans: Our Inevitable Genetic Future on the Early Show this morning, Bryant Gumble of course was asking the really hard questions. Stock's vision, nay, hope, is that one day we will all be able to fix and select everything from the moment we are conceived in test tubes. In his book he claims that, "Never before have we had the power to manipulate human genetics to alter our biology in meaningful, predictable ways". -- Jigga what? Predictability in humans is a good thing? Sure I would love it if my friends and colleagues were a bit more predictable in their behavior sometimes, but nestled in the crevices of the human condition, where the unpredictability of the human spirit lives, are the irrational thoughts and behaviors that make this whole game interesting and worth playing. Frankly, it's what makes us different from water coolers or my palm pilot (although my palm has been acting quite irrational recently). I am excited to see how the art and film community explores this question or this topic. I for one submit someone put together a futuristic gallery exhibition where all the pieces are done by artists posing as new genetically modified super artists. What would it look like? Would there be any art on the walls at all or would all the parents take out the art genes in their test tube babys and replace them with doctor, stockbroker, or germ line engineer genes? When someone puts this exhibition together please invite me.

May 15, 2002

It gives me great pleasure that some of the worst made music being pawned off these days, crashes imacs and other PC's. I'd like to think that it's the imacs saying "no fucking way are you going to put that crap music in this here CD drive. And if you do I'm going to crash on your ass". The computers are truly smarter than us. I, for one, would love it if my computer had something to say about my musical selections. But just throwing a temper tantrum and completely crashing just sounds juvenile and like something a four year old would do. Hopefully, the ibooks will start to take a more mature approach to the matter and enter into a constructive dialog with the user and their musical preferences. Maybe it could even dialog with us as we are thinking about making purchases on Amazon (e.g. "Dude, do you really need another Moby CD?").

The reviews are in. It looks like the new Star Wars movie sucks. James Lileks review in today's Star Tribune is simple and to the point. It's weird, but I think I actually convinced myself that this was going to be a great movie. My faith is shaken. I think I'm less interested in seeing the movie then just reading and listening to people's reactions. It's like an entire generation making a religious trek to see Captain Moses. I want to see the faces of the people as they come down off the hill. What did the great one say? Are you enlightened? How are you brother? What IS possible and where to next?

Speaking of what is possible and modern prophets, there is a non-political, straight up historical, what does the future hold, interview with the Ambassador of the Bum Rush - Chuck D over at the Heavy Bronx. Chuck's really into Napster and file sharing and claims that the new innovators will be programmers not musicians. The current revolution he claims is not the actual music but access and distribution to music. Chuck's always on top of the game, huh?

Are the Ex-Presidents planning a coup? Jimmy Carter and Clinton sneak around behind King Bush's back and make foreign policy. Carter dispels the lies coming from his old home - the white house. Go Jimmy!

I still can't believe that I lost $18 bucks on the Derby. Although, I'm glad I didn't go with Thompson's horse.

May 13, 2002

"I think the only thing you'll ever see I specialized in is taking good photos"

--Glen E. Friedman

I saw the ridiculously inspiring documentary Dogtown and Z-boys this weekend and walked away with an ever greater admiration for Glen E. Friedman: revolutionary photographer. In conjunction with the dogtown articles written and photographed by C. R. Stecyk, Glen E. Friedman photo work is central to the dynamic execution of this documentary, which features numerous stills taken by Glen. Glen E. Friedman is a huge inspiration. And a vegan He's doing it right. While others try and copy the skating maneuvers of Tony Alva and Jay Adams, I'm studying Dr. Friedman and readjusting my fish-eye lens, looking for something honest to take a picture of.

His latest book The Idealist is a wonderful departure from his older published work. The A bomb memorial shot is beautiful.

Also I must submit his photo of HR from Bad brains flipping on stage as one of the most crucial photos taken in the last 30 years. Also the one of the motor city mad man is galactic. And cause I can't get enough: the dog bowl and an interview.


The Newsweek article on Children at War is a very important, albiet very disturbing article to read.

As things heat up here for Wellstone's reelection bid, the Washington post calls out Norm Colman as G.B.'s little beeatch.

May 12, 2002

Thanks to everyone who came out to The Manor to celebrate my birthday. Also, thanks to those who couldn't make it but were felt from afar. I really do believe this is the year I will take over the world. Come see more pictures.

May 08, 2002

The great ottoman project of 2002 was finally wrapped up this weekend. The woods used were: birch for the paneling, ash for the legs, and redwood for the trim around the side. It was built with storage capacity too. Which you can see in this photo. The fabric, which is some "Waverly" knock-off, I think works very nicely. Next up for the midnight woodworker are some storage cubbies and after that the big summer project! A barbecue center, featuring double old school built-in hibachis. Peep the styles. I got the design out of this sweet 70's book: "Easy-to-Make Outdoor Furniture". Contact me if you'd like the the schematics.

Random note: The song "Getting Stronger Everyday" by Chicago, is one powerful anthem. Incredible production. It begins with a huge funk beat with drums that jump off the track, some really dirty guitar, and some preachin'. The song ends in some banging four-on-the-floor craziness that makes you not sure you should be listening to the song in the car. I really miss how drums used to be recorded. All this heavy stuff on the radio today, albeit some of it good, has a watered down sameness when it comes to the sound of the drum. Everything is gated, compressed and sampled, mixed into a low-end stew and lacking a ton of energy.

Free music swapping over the internet is just the tip of the iceberg. I'm ready for software that allows artists to release the individual raw unmixed tracks of a song or an album of which I can then download and mix to my desired audio listening tastes. I'd pay for that.

May 05, 2002

It doesn't take much to remind you these days that danger, mayhem and madness lurks not in the dark shadows of our streets but in the brightest damn daylight. Under your nose. They might even be in line at the check-out stand. If you look hard enough, if you tune into the frequencies of the "up-to-no-good", it's obvious that their flocks are growing. Kelly has developed an almost Spidey-sense for the "up-to-no-good". She's got a special radar for these kinds that make me think she'll make Sheriff one day.

Friday, we're at Cub doing our grocery shopping for the week-end and this Queensryche wannabe comes straight out of Heavy Metal Parking Lot and jumps in line ahead of us at the Checkout. He says nothing to no one but calmly stacks up ten boxes of Aphedrid Tablets!?!?! Now anyone who has watched "C.O.P.S" knows that Aphedrid is one of the principle ingredients found floating around the front seats of stolen pick-up trucks all over Georgia and is used in the chemical construction of the drug popularly consumed as 'meth'. You just don't buy 10 boxes of Aphedrid for a bad head cold. But Dr. Dokken, as you can see by the receipt pictured above, does, not only that, but doesn't even buy anything else. Gum? Cola? Pretzels? "No thanks. just the Aphedrid for me tonight."

Of course, I'm standing there oblivious to the whole thing. All I can think about is the one pound box of Whoppers in the cart that I am desperate to rip into. But Kelly's onto him - has been onto him since he walked into the store. She said she didn't tell me until he left, cause she knows i would have fucked with him. Sometimes the misses knows me too well. Damn. She watches the whole thing go down and snatched the receipt in the hopes that somehow his credit card number is on it and then his name. Sheriff McGruff's going to turn The Cult guy in. Send him up river. But alas he got away. No good info on the receipt. We also wonder just why the hell this guy and his ten purchases didn't raise an eyebrow or some red-flag with the Cub Foods cashier? Aren't they told about these things in training? Doesn't she watch C.O.P.S? Must we now live everyday wondering in what house lurks the mad meth scientist and his evil ways? We must! For now, we are paying special attention to anyone in the neighborhood listening to that "heavy metal" music. Not in my backyard Bon Jovi!!

May 03, 2002

I caught a little bit of Mister Rogers today, while waiting for some pieces to fall into place. I couldn't tell if it was reruns of old episodes or if what I was watching was made in this century. But damn was it creepy. It was all puppets. It was a skit that featured King Friday and Prince Thursday talking to a bird on a stick that looked like an eighth grade taxidermy project gone askew. There was a women who was also looking for some bird and lamenting the fact that some kid didn't have a father to teach him music and that she would find this kid a father so the kid could play with all the other kids. just odd. and the whole thing was scored by this out of tune piano that played sparse Sun-Ra type shit: plink-plink-ding-plang-plickity-dang-king-dy. Did I watch this same show when I was a kid?

It made me remember how much i dislike puppets. I really hate them. Clowns too. Why does the world need clowns. I also don't like people who wear white sun glasses. I don't like pants. I really don't like finger pointing, John Grisham novels, parachutes, "The Watchtower" magazine, Dutch Boy paint, etched glass, bad service and the shoes they sell at footlocker.

Sorry for the lapse joel. I mon go tru brudda!

May 01, 2002

Back. Rested. Sober. Still plenty white. Funny. the thing about Florida is it wants to seduce you. It wants to keep you around. The whole state has this tremendous self esteem problem. Florida thinks that by inviting all its friends over to play in its sandbox and with its toys, that it can forget about all the character flaws that make it a house of dementia and dysfunction. Not that that's bad. In fact I find it most endearing, the same way I do a friend who comes over for one drink and ends up draining my liquor cabinet and keeping me up till 3AM with the drama of a difficult day. It's not boring. I think that's why I like L.A. so much too. It's pretty fucked up. But once you realize THAT, the spot becomes easily navigable, humorous and beautiful. It's familiar territory. I suppose it's like most things, if you realize your being seduced and there's nothing more agreed upon, no further deals struck, than it becomes easy to enjoy your time and take it for all it's worth. And we took Florida.

Kelly and I stayed in a swank gated community. Crescent Oaks. With a most amazing dynamic couple and their son who have also learned to take Florida for all it's got. But they did it one better. They found out how to do it full-time. Truly a gift. A life of sunshine, pool-chilling, flip-flopping, golf, guests, flowers, gators and the good life enter the possibility of every day. It's a minimalist and wonderfully simple approach, that receives grand applauds from me.

Crescent Oaks offers you about 6 different house models to choose from, and about four Florida colors to decorate with. You have Florida pink or "salmon", a dusted and washed out sandy yellow, a light gray, and of course white. It's very common to have the same color house neighboring on another, sometimes three or four in a row, and with almost identical floor plans, it's easy to walk straight into the wrong house.

The Geckos are everywhere and their larger cousins populate every little body of fresh water that invites you in when it's 90 degrees out. They say that during the heavy rains even some of the puddles have gators lurking in them. They're not the only hazard though. The woods are poisonous as well with two or three little types of snake that give you a slight 20 minutes to live once bitten, which makes great fodder on the Crescent Oaks golf course. Each story begins: "My cousin Stan came down for a spell. He hit this shot of the 13th that hooked right into those trees over there...". And those trees are something else. Straight out of some Tolkien novel. Uneven canopy. Twisted and gnarly. Droopy webs of moss. It's the darkest place in Florida. I would resign a lot of golf balls.

Photos coming. Stay tuned.