02010-04-10 | Uncategorized
I uploaded the March slideshow. You can find it here. Please click on the fullscreen symbol for maximum enjoyment. I have been looking into html slideshows, so that the photos can be viewed on mobile devices that don’t support Flash, but they either don’t advance automatically or they don’t dissolve nicely…
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I added a page for the new album. The official release date is June 15th.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
New York, New York. I love the city, but playing there with the band became a drag last year, when a new law was issued: a bus pulling a trailer is no longer allowed in Manhattan. As a result we have to leave the bus and trailer in New Jersey and drive into the city with the gear in a rental van and the musicians in a couple of taxis. Not fun.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Behold, wild custom scooters from Japan.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
William Gibson
The writing worth keeping happens within a matrix of mysterious but crucially related activities. I might order myself to write for X number of hours per day (though in fact I never do) but the writing worth keeping can’t be ordered to happen at all, let alone for X number of hours per day. It has to be teased out. Fed.
The music worth keeping can’t be ordered to happen at all, let alone for X number of hours per day. It has to be teased out…
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Track number 4, “On the Road to Shiraz”, starts with the sound of dawn on a dusty street. It’s a gritty sound, gritty like the sand on both sides of the road. At the end of the road beckons Shiraz, the Persian garden city, home of the Sufi poet Hafez. The gritty sound returns at the end of the piece, when we realize that we are no closer to Shiraz, because we whiled away the time dancing and talking.
02009-07-03 | Uncategorized
Played a lot of guitar today. In the late afternoon I recorded myself playing This Spring Release 10,000 Butterflies in the studio, using HD Video and ProTools at 24/88.2. Now I just need to replace the audio recorded on the video with the audio from the ProTools session… You will find the result here soon.
I keep turning to the Guardian for music news.
Pirate Bay’s purchase proves they’re not altruistic | Behind the Music | Helienne Lindvall | Music | guardian.co.uk
The Pirate Bay is not the first company (and, yes, whatever image they tried to portray, it was always a business) to have built their entire existence on making copyrighted material available for free, without asking, or compensating, the people who created the material. As far back as 2000, Napster was in the dock for copyright infringement; in 2008, the brand was bought by the American electronics retailer Best Buy for $121m (£74m). As I’ve previously reported, LastFM built their business on unlicensed music only to sell it to CBS for $280m (£171m). And let’s not forget Google’s purchase of YouTube for $1.65bn (£1bn). For supposedly “altruistic” ventures, these companies sure made a lot of money. Some would argue the artists whose music built these businesses should have received some of that money.
Read the whole article. Couldn’t agree more. I didn’t know all of this background stuff about the Pirate Bay.
Upaya Newsletter for 6/22/2009
The trick is to create a society in which the privilege of disposable income is not contingent on the existence of disposable people–to say nothing of the disposable tigers, ice caps, and arable land.
– Keizer
Or, our happiness should not be based on other creatures unhappiness.
Neuromancer is 25 years old… William Gibson wrote it on a manual typwriter, model Hermes 2000 (((scroll down to see that Swiss-built beauty)))
William Gibsons book Neuromancer was published on July 1st, 1984.
(Via Macworld)
Here is a link to a wonderful essay by Stephen Batchelor:
The Freedom to be No One
Poetry is abandoned in favour of reason.
In the essay Stephen Batchelor quotes Nagarjuna, who I mentioned here.
02009-05-22 | Uncategorized
I finished reading Diamond Age by Neal Stephenson a couple of days ago and started on the newest Inspector Shan book, The Lord of Death.
Slept longer than usual and awoke feeling incrementally better than yesterday. Will take it easy today and cleared my schedule, except for a phone interview with Germany this afternoon.
Received a note from John Diliberto that Echoes will transmit today the recording we made at their studio at the beginning of the month. I haven’t heard it yet. Click here to find a radio station near you.
Dezeen » Blog Archive » Proposals for Florence by Gruppo Giovani Architetti Firenze
A new inhabited bridge over the River Arno in Florence is among proposals by Gruppo Giovani Architetti Firenze (Young Achitect Group of Florence) designed to provoke debate about architecture in the historic city.
Find more photos here. Wouldn’t that bridge be an amazing place to live! Anybody remember the William Gibson novel in which the Oakland Bridge had been transformed by squatters?
02009-03-01 | Uncategorized
I usually sit in the afternoon or late at night, but today I sat zazen at 08:00. They say one should not sit zazen with closed eyes unless one has at least 15 years of zazen experience. I have practiced zazen for 5 years but have been meditating for 35, and so I allow myself to close my eyes about half of the 40 minutes I sit every day. I only do it when I am wide awake, so I don’t fall asleep. When the conditions are good, meaning that I am relaxed and yet alert, I will close my eyes and sometimes that’s just pure bliss. Mind, calm like a lake without wind and yet ready for any splash in the water. Timeless.
William Gibson
A MILLION SECONDS IS 11 DAYS
A billion seconds is 32 years.
A trillion seconds is 32,000 years.
I have crossed the 1,500,000,000 second threshhold. It looks like a lot and it feels like nothing.
Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly.
Suddenly I awoke.
Now, I do not know whether I was then
a man dreaming I was a butterfly,
or whether I am now a butterfly
dreaming that I am a man.
– Chuang Tzu (c.360 BC – c. 275 BC)
Here is a different translation:
I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke.
Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly,
or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?
I rode my fixie to Downtown Subscription for a green chile croissant and a coffee. Must ask David @ Mellow Velo about getting a slightly larger cog, maybe just +1T.
More time-lapse photography. I am hunting moving shadows around the house. The camera takes one photo every 9 seconds. Odd noise to have around.
Tomato – Tomato:
Zhuangzi
Author:
The first seven chapters of the text, often called the Inner Chapters, are generally attributed to Zhuang Zhou (Chuang Chou), who, according to legend, lived in what is now known as Honan from approximately 370-286 BC. The rest of the text is often understood to contain fragments of material, some of which are sometimes attributed to the same author as the Inner Chapters, some of which are attributed to other authors, including representatives of the Yangzhu (Yang Chu) tradition. For the sake of convenience, this article will refer to the author and/or authors of the text simply as Zhuangzi.
Chuang Tzu AKA Zhuangzi AKA Zhuang Zhou AKA Chuang Chou AKA Yangzhu AKA Yang Chu?
And:
You are the butterfly,
And I the dreaming heart
Of Soshi
– Basho
Soshi is the Japanese name for Chuang Tzu.
Thanks Y.
02009-03-01 | Uncategorized
William Gibson
A MILLION SECONDS IS 11 DAYS
A billion seconds is 32 years.
A trillion seconds is 32,000 years.
I have crossed the 1,500,000,000 second threshhold. It looks like a lot and it feels like nothing.
Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly.
Suddenly I awoke.
Now, I do not know whether I was then
a man dreaming I was a butterfly,
or whether I am now a butterfly
dreaming that I am a man.
– Chuang Tzu (c.360 BC – c. 275 BC)
Here is a different translation:
I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke.
Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly,
or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?