The latest Sigur Ros album has really grown on me, especially this track and the first one. I guess they have another album coming out in a few months. But this one is fine by me.
The Hollow Men
:::this is the way the world ends:::
Page 2 of 33
One of my favorite Bowie songs, made into a video that would have blown my 80’s MTV-watchin’ mind away.
Hilarious and nostalgic at the same time…a couple of these are mildly NSFW.
We took off the side of the triplets’ beds, and they were falling out. I actually improvised one solution similar to this, with rolled up blankets tucked into the sheets and the top of the railings. However, with summer coming on, and pool supplies populating the shelves of the store, I might have to do this. Lots of good visual tips in this list!
A list from Buzzfeed illuminates how the brain makes sense of visual information.
Another streaming album I discovered yesterday by John Grant, and haven’t listened to more than once. However, what I heard makes me want to listen to it more. It’s got complexities and textures to the songs…I found myself being won over by songs I didn’t think I liked at first by the end of the last notes.
I thought I shouldn’t be afraid to talk about it, as there are lots of people in my situation, who feel like outcasts in society, people who had addiction problems, who feel ashamed and unlovable because of it,” Grant said in a recent press release. “I want these people to know they have someone on a stage who is dealing with this too.
Let me know what you think about this, and I’ll try to add my own thoughts after I’ve had a chance to give it a listen.
I’ve included her on some of the Memorial Day albums in the past, but Patty Griffin has a new album out today. I found a link to a streaming version of it, and wanted to share it with you all. Her songs grow on me — she’s the best type of songwriter in that her songs aren’t a “one-listen and discard” type. It takes some long, attentive listens and road trips across Kansas to really become embedded in my life experience, giving a voice to bunch of emotions I didn’t even know I had until her songs came along.
Hope you enjoy this….
I’ve been haunting Kick Start for the last couple of months and I caught wind of this today. I’ve never been much for roll play games but I might give this one a try. Though I can’t think of who I would play it with save for you clowns.
I’m glad to see they’ve made their goal already.
In the Attic by Seamus Heaney
1.
Like Jim Hawkins aloft in the crosstrees
Of Hispaniola, nothing underneath him
But still green water and clean bottom sand,
The ship aground, the canted mast far out
Above a seafloor where striped fish pass in shoals—
And when they’ve passed, the face of Israel Hands
That rose in the shrouds before Jim shot him dead
Appears to rise again . . . “But he was dead enough,”
The story says, “being both shot and drowned.”
2.
A birch tree planted twenty years ago
Comes between the Irish Sea and me
At the attic skylight, a man marooned
In his own loft, a boy
Shipshaped in the crow’s nest of a life,
Airbrushed to and fro, wind-drunk, braced
By all that’s thrumming up from keel to masthead,
Rubbing his eyes to believe them and this most
Buoyant, billowy, topgallant birch.
3.
Ghost-footing what was then the terra firma
Of hallway linoleum, Grandfather now appears
Above me just back from the matinée,
His voice awaver like the draft-prone screen
They’d set up in the Club Rooms earlier.
“And Isaac Hands,” he asks, “was Isaac in it?”
His memory of the name awaver, too,
His mistake perpetual, once and for all,
Like the single splash when Israel’s body fell.
4.
As I age and blank on names,
As my uncertainty on stairs
Is more and more the light-headedness
Of a cabin boy’s first time on the rigging,
As the memorable bottoms out
Into the irretrievable,
It’s not that I can’t imagine still
That slight untoward rupture and world-tilt
As a wind freshened and the anchor weighed.
I was showing a student this artist’s work today to talk about atmospheric perspective, and it occurred to me that Toby and others might enjoy it.
Another interesting article from the New Yorker. It’s really amazing how good one can get, almost to the point of it being magical, when you solely focus on one skill for your entire life.
And here’s a video of his talent on display:
As I’ve been sharing things on the blog, I’ve wondered why I’ve kept things unserious after all the pressures, concerns, and nightmares of the past week. Perhaps I need a place for respite from the typical news flow across the internet. I felt I’ve needed evocation, rather than provocation.
Here’s a series of photos that evokes something inextricably Kansas out of me, and thought I’d share.
I have desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail
And a few lilies blow.
And I have asked to be
Where no storms come,
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,
And out of the swing of the sea.
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