Visuals

Went last night to the final viewing of the Art of Photography show in downtown SD. It was at that mega-shopping paradise, Horton Plaza; i was one of literally three people who made their way downstairs to the Lyceum Theatre to check out the photos. It was pretty rad. Here are my favorites.


"Back to nature 1" - Patricia Van De Camp
(Superb colors in this one. The actual print looked a bit darker. Gorgeous!)


"Arcimboldo W6I0970" - Klaus Enrique
(um, YES. This one was gigantic, and incredibly shot. Also, what an effing brilliant idea.)


"Long Winding Road" - Dejon Walker
(stared at this one for a long time. it was huge and beautiful.)


"Dad's Things Aren't Dad" - Russ Rowland
(since i'm obsessed with collections, and items as evidence of our 'self'.)


"Dissolve" - Alison Turner
(one of the first ones i saw that stopped me in my tracks. Weird, but excellent.)


"Covered in White Powder" - Larry Louie
(so, this is a balloon factory. gave me the shivers. i sell those fucking things every day.)


"Three in the Lake" - Carl Tremblay
(perfect.)


"Litter" - Linda Kuo
(this was way better in person. water glistened on every surface. although i still can't figure out what that white thing is.)


"Louise" - Tom M. Johnson
(Louise = obviously amazing.)


"Girl, Ballinasloe Horse fair, Ireland" - Kenneth O Halloran
[this one got 'Honorable Mention']
(another large, stunning portrait. i was transfixed by those freckles.)


"B 1004 (Window)" - Noritaka Minami
(is it weird that i want to sleep in here? this was related to this other photo.)


"Hot Rod Dream Girl Priscilla" - Jennifer Greenburg
(check out her shift knob! Also, the light was fantastic in this one.)


"Day 47" - Jennifer Wilkey
[also received 'Honorable Mention']
(creeptastic.)


"Place 1861" - Jose A. Gallego
(this was possibly my favorite. can't really explain why. i just wanted to be there, badly.)


"Feet Over Coconut Shell" - Andre Cypriano
(visceral. i want to do this!)


"Red China" - Li Jiangsong
(slightly ominous, obviously accidental.)


"Let Sleeping Dogs Lie" - Brian Almaraz
(surreal! kind of reminded me of a scene from a Gabriel Garcia Marquez story.)

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These 2 were the first-place winners:

"Flesh Love Chihiro & Takeshi" & "Flesh Love Michico & Yuhei" - Photographer Hal

...and this one was also pretty great:

"An Ordinary Day" - Bev Short


Well, that's all folks. Off to make shrunken apple heads.

lost and found.

Many thanks to Millie and Wayne, an older couple who originally hail from Long Island (say it with an accent, please) but have lived here in San Diego for some forty years. They saved our butts on Thursday night when we were lost in the hills. Our local transportation authority's website had instructed us to walk "east" for about a mile upon exiting our trolley, which ended up leading us right to an impassable canyon after about four blocks. Distraught, and late for a concert, Nat hailed a car exiting a driveway. (This was a very cloistered neighborhood; not a soul walking about for miles, it seemed, that we could ask for directions.) The woman driver hesitantly rolled down her window and i watched from afar as he ran through every confused facial expression in his repertoire, asking if there was a way through to 3rd Avenue. Finally, he waved me over.

Turns out that unless we could fly, we were stuck. Our directions had neglected to impart some pretty important information regarding the topography of the region surrounding the Middletown Trolley Station. Cretins.

So what happened next? They demanded to give us a ride. Insisting that it was no problem, and that they were merely "on [their] way out for a hamburger", we were ushered into the vehicle. Sweaty and grateful, we were whisked to our destination over hill, over dale. Wayne thought that we were from England (why does this happen constantly?!), to which our only response was that we both had an English parent. i blame Nat's extremely proper enunciation under times of stress. Millie later told us that if i hadn't been carrying flowers, she probably would have just screeched right past us. (Apparently, "you just never know" in this day and age.) i told them to come and visit me some time at the flower shop if they were ever in the area. i honestly hope to see them again. . . thanks, Millie and Wayne! You two really helped revive my good feelings toward the human race.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As for the show, it was okay. Not sure if Joanna Newsom's latest album really lends itself to the concert circuit; perhaps if there had been tables and chairs, cocktails and candles. . . but standing crowded in a hot room with other people who are having a hard time grooving to the lengthy, strangely-syncopated tunes, it was a bit rough. Milk-Eyed Mender would have been a great tour (in fact, we did see her then, in a dark smoky bar, before we even knew who she really was), and we did get to hear one song from those old, melodic days ("Peach, Plum, Pear", which, incidentally, is one of my all-time faves). Unfortunately, we arrived late just as Robin Pecknold (of Fleet Foxes fame) was finishing up his opening set. Pretty sure that would have been the better performance, partly because Joanna's drummer was set too loud on volume and he even managed to sing over her at points.

Mostly i would argue that her more complicated songs are best left to the studio. i was surprised to find that my favorite performances of hers that night were a couple of songs that i'd barely noticed on the album: "Go Long" and "Baby Birch". i was completely transported by them, whereas the more familiar, jaunty hits ("Easy", "Good Intentions Paving Co.") were lacking the punch that i had come to rely on. And Joanna on piano is wonderful, but watching the light catch on her humming harpstrings was still as fascinating as always. If you have patience and a light heart, you'll enjoy the show (and, obviously, the albums). Have One on Me was by far the most difficult album of hers for me to get into. While not necessarily an album full of gems, almost every song has its few seconds of brilliant joy. It just might take you a bit longer to wind your way through to them.

"Baby Birch" was melancholy-sweet and symphonic (sorry for the poorish sound on this):



and "Soft as Chalk" was very enjoyable:



As always, you are free to harbor nothing but disdain for this music.

(Kinda like me with Phil Collins, or Dave Matthews.)

It's absolutely up to you. But i encourage everyone to at least give it a shot. She takes a few tries, but in the end it is like having access to some kind of magical auditory respite.

I've finally figured it out...

...Why i'm so unhappy here.
It dawned on me at 2:30 in the morning while i was half-awake, trying to do the Sunday NYT crossword (i should have just gone to sleep, but i was wary of moving to turn off the light and waking up the Sleeping Grad-student Boyfriend, who so desperately needs and deserves what little rest he can get).

I feel like the best of my life is behind me.

A pretty sobering thought, to be honest. When we lived up in Berkeley, everything was basically peachy. i loved our tiny, sunny apartment, i could ride my bike anywhere i needed to go, and even though nat and i both had some fairly crappy jobs, we had good times, too. Everywhere you looked, there was a good memory for us. i remember thinking that maybe i would start going to school, or take a few art classes, and that everything would be good. Life would continue going along at its pace, taking me with it, and that was just fine.
But then we moved down here, to San Diego. For a year and a half, i have done absolutely nothing, it seems like, for which i am willing to take almost all of the blame. This condo is like a dark cavern, the weather here is hot and humid, the people exist on a totally different wavelength (self-tanning, rampant exhibitionism, teeth-whitening, liposuction, SUVs galore, extreme alcohol intake, etc. etc.), there are very few restaurants with edible food, the most-played bands on the radio are Sublime and Bob Marley (no offense there, Bob), and really, the list goes on. And on. And on.
But what struck me last night was that i have absolutely no good hope for the future. i am not looking forward to anything, except for the day when we can move away from this cesspool and leave San Diego behind us, hopefully for good. Whereas up in Berkeley, life was something like, "what awesome place shall we go to for dinner?" or "which fun thing should we do this weekend, this or this?" down here it more along the lines of "is there even any reason to go out to eat anywhere?" and "what are we doing this weekend? oh, right- nothing."

So yeah. Man, am i ever negative! And honestly, most of this is due to the fact that nat just has waaay too much work to do since he started school, and i am petrified to leave the house because i'm just not the tank-top & flip-flop wearing type, and it's 80 degrees outside. i guess that's somewhat of a generalization though- really it's 75 all year long. Ugh. How exciting. And the light- when we visited the Bay Area most recently, i was struck by how beautiful the light was. Shimmering, opalescent, trembling through the leaves. It's.... sharper, somehow. And people actually have gardens. And there are trees. And bookstores. And good bands. And movie theaters. And more great restaurants than you can shake a stick at (who was shaking that stick, originally, and why?!). And animals, such as cats and dogs. And families; children. i miss all that stuff like you would not believe. Mostly the being able to ride my bike everywhere part. And the part about how vegetarian dining options need not merely be the meaty options sans meat; they can be their own innovative creation entirely. Yeah, those were the days.

But you know what? Yesterday i read an article about how food prices are escalating, all over the world, and i saw a photograph of a crowd of women in Pakistan pushing against each other to order food from a market; some had their faces literally pressing against the glass, contorted and scared. It was quite a sight. And a reminder for me, to shut the hell up and get on with your life. I've got nothing to complain about, actually, now that i think about it, and when life gives you a wake-up call, you just have to actually wake up.

So why do i still feel like everyone around me is washing up onshore, moving on wondrously and unflinchingly toward their respective destinies and destinations, while i'm just floating around numbly 300 yards out, wondering how to get caught up in The Flow?

This is why i don't drive.

So yeah. San Diego. it is always coming up with new ways to disappoint me!
In a rather circuitous way, by airing a TV commercial that made me want to harm the ad executive(s) who thought of it.
A mother, with 2 children in tow, pops up at the local automobile manufacturing plant (i know- clever already, i'nt it?). The clearly surprised Men With Clipboards look quizzically at her; she blathers, "i'm driving 8 hours", while looking appropriately anxious about her spawn, and the men feed her the bright idea that she should purchase an automobile with not one but two DVD players, so that each precious child may watch what he or she desires! Genius! Win-win-win! Her face is pleased; i am holding back vomitous black rage on the couch.
Correct me if i'm wrong, but doesn't this illustrate a root cause of one of the biggest blights afflicting the human population- selfishness? also known as Spoiled-brat-itis? Self-centered fucker-ism? Victimitis self-entitlementata? Whew. i could go on, but i think you're gettin' it.
When i was a kid (ha ha, i grew up in the '80s, which really doesn't feel all that long ago), crammed in a VW bus with a little brother and an older sister, a dog, and sometimes even a cat as well (not joking), we had no air conditioning, no roomy seating, and certainly not no *&%@$&*@%$!! television, okay? We had books, games, warm soda, dozing off, hitting your nearest sibling, mooning the car behind you, and counting roadkill. Not sure what else there really was, but i can assure you it had nothing to do zoning out in some lobotomized, antiseptic haze and cutting off all contact with your family because gee, that would have just been so hard. (did that last part come out appropriately whiny? i sure hope so..)
And you know what? i actually had fun! can you believe it?? And my parents? Yep, both still alive. (although if they had both been in the car at the same time, maybe that would not be the case today...)
As for me? well, i guess i grew up knowing that i couldn't always have everything my little heart desired, and that the world wasn't perfect, and that sometimes we can just all get along- it's called compromise; patience; toughing it out, etc. Are these important lessons?
Damn, do you even have to ask?

Anywho, San Diego also managed to irk the hell out of me in a much more direct manner by the relentless airing of a radio ad for some car lot or auto mall somewhere in this, "America's Finest City" (oh, my god, please do not get me started on that shit-shined diamond).
The little ditty of a tune features some frighteningly-cheery sounding A.I. guy singing (along with what sounds like 10 other versions of his particular model) the hook: "....San Diego suuuUUUUUnshiiiiIIIiiine...!" and i swear, you can just picture the fucking people in their sun hats, laughing at the amazing time they're having on the beach, with their damn cooler and their fuck-all fake tan, and their damned fish tacos and 'manis' and 'pedis' and teeth polished and whitened down to the damned nubby root, wearing the latest bikini fashions and when it's all over, they'll all pile into their damned giant SUV with surfboard rack and cupholder for their constant beer-on, and an unholy sunroof because you know why?
So they can "let the Saaan Dieeeego suuuuuUUUnshiiIIiiine" in!!!!

!! ::head explodes::