Another week, another friend left town. But let's stay focused on the positive, and not become mired in myopia.
Thanks Amazon.com advanced search for publishers, which reveals that Picturebox is putting out a book for Michel Gondry's Be Kind Rewind- I assume the exhibition at Deitch Projects. They're also doing a catalog of Ben Jones paintings. Hopefully the plan for a complete 1-800-Mice book this year will still happen, although it didn't come up in a catalog show. (According to their website, they're putting out a complete Will Sweeney Tales Of Greenfuzz book in 2009, which I can imagine being released the same day as a Thurber tome.)
The newest song to be stuck on repeat is by this band on Orange Twin called Nana Grizol, that appeared on an mp3 blog. I could loop it so easy, ad infinitum, but not for healthy reasons. I'm sure you can imagine. I'm trying to track down the record, or at least a second track to determine whether a purchase would be sensible. The album art is terrible.
The new Silver Jews record has fucking awesome album art! Stephen Bush!
That Beck record that was really popular ten years ago, and was reissued recently has a bunch of songs on it I didn't remember at all! This includes songs that were hits, to a certain degree.
I don't know, people. This post is all about its first paragraph, and trying to avoid the feeling of weight accumulating. The weight, I guess- this is how I'm going to articulate it right now- is that of a pretty general anxiety, what am I going to do with the future. Everyone I know shares this, in this little town. The thing is, the more people are around, the more that weight is distributed, to the point of almost being a non-issue: In a large enough community, that anxiety abates because stasis becomes more appealing. There's an element of a big-fish-in-small-pond syndrome easily diagnosed, but at its best moments, a rich community feels more like an aquarium. Or that's all bullshit, actually, sound and fury that just signifies that I am missing a lot of people pretty goddamn seriously.
(Does it mean anything that I went back to an old record from a completely different period of my life, that I probably haven't listened to since moving to Olympia, and scarcely recognized it?)
One friend I haven't seen in a while wrote a pretty great review of Juno in the comments of the post where I talked about Juno, if you haven't read it.
I keep on thinking in terms of new habits. I would like to start gardening really intensely, and using the computer much more sparingly. Analog equipment: sewing machines, typewriters and tape recorders. Although digital video still. I don't know, it's a pretty vague vision.