I'm totally going to win the favorite animal poll. 

Dr. Dog

Check out my review of Dr. Dog's new album, Fate.

Capturing Memory

I work for an artist, William Christenberry; a tall, southern, known-to-appear-in-seersucker-suits type of gentleman. When I say southern one should not mistake this to mean some sort of Louisiana drawl or 'howdy y'all' type of persona, but rather the quiet, gentle, polite nature of man raised by his parents during a time when going to church, saying m'am, and having chores were all part of life. That said he also has a devious sense of humor, as surprising and enjoyable to find as Jimmy Stewart's stint with Donna Reed's bathrobe in It's A Wonderful Life.

Mr. Christenberry is a photographer, sculptor, painter, and paper artist. He is best known for his series of photographs capturing the vernacular architecture and landscape of his hometown and the surrounding area in rural Alabama. Since the late 50's he has returned annually to capture the changing nature of his childhood surroundings.

I was fortunate enough to be given a copy of Mr. Christenberry's latest book, Working from Memory, in which an editor and his wife compile audio records of him relating life stories into a written form. A combination of reading these stories and again studying the photography which they accompany, led me to a very personal observation.

I realized that it's the absence of people in the majority of Mr. Christenberry's photographs that make them seem so much more like something out of dream of long ago, like those nostalgic moments I have when I remember my own childhood in the south, those warm summer days and fields and buildings and smells. Undoubtedly people from our past contribute a vast amount to our memories, but those places in our heart, those surrounding from long ago often appear, at least in my mind, devoid of people. The old sign of a mermaid on main street in Greensboro, NC has been there since the sixties, at any point a variety of people in a variety of fashions from many decades would have walked by. But I don't think of the sign in that context. Why it may be close to impossible to find a time of day or not when there isn't someone in the vicinity of that sign, in my mind it stands alone, separate from its surroundings. Just how many of my geographical memories float unattached, void of their physical anchors of time and location, but grounded securely in my own understanding of them.

It left my life as mysteriously as it appeared.

I noticed today on my walk to the metro that the full bag of Depends that had been lying in the gutter for over a month is now missing. A sudden uneasiness came over me and I realized from now on I no longer had a back up plan between home and work- I would have to become a responsible adult when drinking my morning orange juice and vodka. 

I take solace from an email my doctor friend wrote me today:

'My only duty right now is watching over my demented patient who keeps taking his diaper off and asking for his dead wife. This involves more patience than you might think.' 

It seems like somewhere everyone is shedding a security blanket of some kind. 

Cat Training

My cats, Max and Duncan, have developed a good-cop/bad-cop routine for getting me to feed them in the morning. When they hear my alarm go off, they both come in my room, ready for some grub. Duncan gets up on my bed and rubs up on my face and purrs while Max watches quietly from the floor. If I don't get up to feed them, and fall back asleep instead, Max gets up on my desk or my dresser and starts knocking stuff off (the more breakable, the better). They've been perfecting this routine over the last few months, and they have trained me well enough that, even if I want to sleep more, I'll get up and feed them first, then crawl back into bed. Those boys are clever little bastards.

Really?

murderkillpeace

playing around with ascii art.

Ray Drive crew is taking over the internet

It was only a matter of time...