Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nature. Show all posts

Monday, March 4, 2013

weekendity: rock and roll and plants and museums

I've been banging out this paper, and it's now up to six pages, half cited, just needing a little more flesh on the bare bones, a few visuals to get some points across. People ask me at the coffeeshop what I'm working on and their eyes glaze over when I start talking about eleven thousand virgins getting martyred by Huns and reliquary trade in the Middle Ages, but that's okay. The place I get the best work done in is now devoid of ukulele-praising boomers, and thankful the music is better than the one near me. I forget how much I can't deal with twee indie when I'm away from it for so long.

So me and College Radio Homie and a friend of his ended up watching another mutual friend play Friday night. I wasn't planning on this, but I'd heard some good things about the headliner and figured why not.  The bar was packed, I didn't want to drink, so we stood by the stage and ended up watching a Liturgy side project that was pretty swank on the instrumental end (being neither a kvltist or appropriating hipster, I was more disinterested than anything else), but it was really good and riffy and unpretentious for a bunch of PitchforkianBrooklynistas. I described them to CRH as sounding to my strange ears like Kyuss playing afropop and surf music and then just being Kyussy. Would've picked up a demo if they had any, but no merch.
 And a then a local band with gear that we drooled over including a ton of pedals brought the shoegaze with a little extra sludge on the side.

I was sleepy by this point and so I ducked out maybe 2/3rds of the way through the set and went home, because I'm getting old and knew I wanted to save my energy for the rest of the tuneage to come.

Successful in our pursuit of good riffs and hanging out, we met up the next night since I told him he'd probably like Royal Thunder given our musical common ground. I had gone to a college radio shindig at a darkroom where I hung out with DJs from the other station and made more phantograms, and we talked about weird arcane Clevelandia lore before I headed out. I was also told for the first time that I'm "well-preserved" which makes me feel old though it's probably some combination of clean living and general attire than anything else.

I hate that I get skittish walking down the street from my car when I see a guy coming the other way who starts the whole 'hey baby why won't you talk to me come on baby' and I know there's the inevitable racial politics here, as I step off the sidewalk and walk in the street to give me a little more room for movement.  One fellow Clevelandian pointed out to me once  that "hookers in other cities wear hot pants and in Cleveland they wear sweatpants," but I'd still assume given the look of the regular clientele of Now That's Class what with the leather jacket and the band t-shirt, that it's pretty damn obvious I'm on my way to get my fix of tuneage rather than working the corner.

 A local punk band was playing when I got there and I'm just not big into the whole Misfits/horror punk thing, never have been. I think you need tattoos to like that stuff. Ancient VVisdom played an almost similar set minus the one song of theirs I kind of liked, I'd probably dig it more if it wasn't for the vocals and lyrics, given my lack of affinity for the Lord of the Underworld and the nu-metalish stylings that didn't mesh well with the dirgy doom-folk thing for me.

Royal Thunder made converts out of my comrades and either that night in Pittsburgh was an off night or their live show has really tightened up because they played a great long set full of big riffs and drum fills and that voice that made me happy to see other ladies who can bring the rock and or roll with raw power who don't need the gimmicks of politics or excess skin. It's nice to get steamrolled by some serious live goodness, and they were nice to talk to afterwards. All my pictures turned out badly but I didn't take too many, because we were immersed in that beautiful cathartic sound.

I went to the art museum for a homework assignment, but detoured at the Greenhouse to get my fill of beauty and lushness and the smells of jasmine and citrus and I forget how awesome the cacti are.

listened to a talk about illuminated manuscripts, rolled my eyes with my classmates at some stupid audience questions, and wandered around  looking at armor, Impressionist paintings, and the newly-reopened medieval section full of relics and rock crystal and beautifully carved wood. No pictures since I didn't want to get kicked out. Still, it's awesome that such a place is free.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

viscous time

Some weekends fly by, and the others are mercifully long-feeling, amazing what that extra day can do. I forgot my camera so I have no pictures to post but there were a lot of photos taken this weekend, of the interior of my favorite glass studio in Clevelandia, where the Queen of the Bondo got a freelance journalist interview gig that I tagged along for, and most things interacted are redacted to protect the innocent, but any chance to hang out in a space where there's ample creativity is welcome. Here's some old shots of the place, my newer ones on the swanky camera are a little better.

 And then there was the family gathering, where I got to hold babies and argue politics with the family. It's reassuring to hear anxiety about drones and the lack of humanity and due process from my relateds, both with the geopolitical and the local. It seems that the seamless-garment-Catholics and the Kucinichistas might have more common ground than some would think. Though I'm evidently in the minority at my dismay at LAPD business-as-usual. I still have some weird belief that no matter how big of an awful scumbag person you are, you should still be treated with humanity and not burned alive. Then again, I don't watch much in the way of action movies except for kung fu and I don't have much in the way of revenge fantasies and have turned into a bit of a freako peacenik.

I was invited out to this winter festival thing but the roads were awful, and I spun out on a Parmastan sidestreet mercifully free of parked cars, and my friend who extended the invitation texted me to say not to bother coming down.The streets were slick, but the slow going was soundtracked by swank stoner rock so all was well.
Came home after church and slept awhile, felt kind of gross, weird stuff coming out of my nose sent me to the bibliotheque to self-diagnose and concluded that death wasn't imminent. Watched an Iranian movie about footie that was good.
Got all super domestic, cleaned most of the apartment, cooked a bunch of really good food, went up to the radio station to guest on a friend's show. Played lots of noisy music, took advantage of the almost-balmy temperature to walk down to the beach where there were a bunch of Cleveland cops on the shore, who knows what was going on but I was trying not to chortle too much watching the cruiser spin its wheels in the sand and resist the urge to break out the camera.






Monday, February 11, 2013

icy grey

Two times this weekend, when the weather warmed up slightly and the cabin fever became too much, I got outside and wandered on the deserted shore of Clevelandia. Sleep can wait, naps can be taken later, I love the beach at all seasons, but especially now, when there are skeletal driftwood trees washed up on the shore, the surf crystallized crunches under my shoes, and the water gleams silver under winter sun.

 
 And then yesterday I went out with my camera on a drive, which I haven't done in awhile but there's something that stirs me about the rust-colored palette under grey skies. I would have gone under the railroad trestle to shoot what would have undoubtedly been good graffiti, but I was alone, and occasionally I've come across men sleeping and starving feral dogs so I slowed down, turned the music low, and shot what I could from the side of the car.

 
 
The Flats were quiet as anything, and I got out by the bridges and walked down by the old warehouses and wished I had the bigger camera with me. Still, I'm happy enough with these shots.
 

And then I went down to the park on the other side, and the breakers must have caused the piles of ice that were everywhere, these broken sheets piled up against the shoreline, swirling out into the lake all Goldsworthy. There were a lot of people down there, maybe the warmer weather, maybe the cabin fever. Some guy dressed as Mario in tights with pompoms, a bunch of The Kids, including a big Moroccan contingent, mugging for the their iPhone cameras with the pastel sky and sheets of ice behind them, young Muslim couples and old men.

I'm sure with the sun out and the forty degrees, this has all melted, but to catch that transient moment at its most beautiful feels like some kind of little accomplishment.


Thursday, September 6, 2012

wonders of creation

Bestiary, Islamic style, thanks Internet!

a large winged fish
map of the world
 one horned beast


Of course, the Persians take the illumination job to the next level as always... 
 giant ants!
 pretty birds!

Looks a bit cooler than this.

Friday, July 20, 2012

what immortal hand or eye...

These nature illustrations are far more gorgeous than anything my brain could ever dream to conjure and the intricacy and practicality and the sheer exhuastive amount of species and interconnectedness that we humans somehow haven't completely destroyed only cements my childhood residual notions of Creator design genius that the majority of folk in my world would scoff at and tell me to move to Texas or something, but hey I'd prefer the company of William Blake to Dawkins & Co. any day.

Someday when I'm not hovering above the poverty line I'd love to have these kinds of things on the coffee table along with Harry Clarke and Fursy. In the meantime, there's the Internet, and it's for sharing such wonders and frequent fearful symmetry.

And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?



What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?







Thursday, July 12, 2012

arte sella

Stumbled across this while looking for Goldsworthy... holy crap I'm jealous of you people in Italy...!

learn more here...