How the hell can a person
Go to work in the evening
Come home in the evening
And have nothin’ to say?
Probably not a lot of John Prine on Tumblr, which is too bad.
Letter from composer Bela Bartok to his son. “The clouds are again trying to come in through the window.”
Pharrell-Happy (guitar cover) by yours truly. Enjoy your Saturday, lovelies.
William Basinski—d|p 6 (Disintegration Loop 6)
This is the sound of all sounds.
James Dewitt Yancey, aka J Dilla, changed the course of my musical life and will always stand as one of the most dedicated, inventive, and free thinkers to make music. My understanding of rhythm is deep in his debt. Today is his birthday, and you’ll be better after listening to him.
Dubai Metro, Edit by tecchnocracy.
Now is the future
Two more winter paragraphs
Pleasant Lake, MN
On other March mornings, in softer winters, the wind did not howl and the crystalline flakes rested even on the ground. The lake would still freeze over, but no dunes of blown snow would collect upon its glassy ceiling. Instead, it shone. Wide pools of sunlight gathered on the ice during clear dawns and stayed, only changing gently in color and shape. On those mornings we shaded our eyes in the early glow and never shivered.
* * *
I walked up the driveway, into the snow, and up to the lake’s edge. The sun behind was warm on the back of my neck. The hum I had been hearing came from the ice itself. When the air warms at the end of winter, the frozen water shifts and makes a round, low sound, gradually swelling and increasing into spring. Hundred-foot cracks appear in an instant, shooting out across the whitened blue. As it thins, the ageless, clear water below reappears. The ground on which you stand is not at all firm and will not last, but light rushes from all sides to meet you.