Oct 11 2007
Today I was in an experimental mood so I went out and purchased a generic body cap for my Pentax K100-D DSLR, took it home, drilled a hole into it, taped a piece of foil over the hole, added a very small pinhole, and took a few pinhole photos. I don’t know if you’ve ever experimented with pinhole photography, but I love it. I ran out of natural light today, but managed to get one:
Oct 11 2007
My father remarried shortly after I graduated from High School and, before long, he and his new wife, Mary, and her two children, Kelly and Tom, were off to Washington State. My plans to move in with some friends fell through and, with no place to live, I decided to join them in the Great White North. The year I spent there was one of the best, most challenging, and certainly the most transformative of my life. What made it really great was being an older brother (for once) to two great kids.
I was quite the shutter bug, and I was always with my trusty Pentax K-1000. Here are a few images of Kelly from that time:
When Kelly graduated from College the parents had a shin-dig at the house. I believe this was from that time. She and I were abandoned by our respective parents, and this was going to end up on a milk carton or something:
Oct 03 2007
This instrument was given to me by a friend who got it from another friend who found it collecting dust in her house. According to trusted sources, it is a Hofner Galaxie. There are a number of different models in that line, however, so more specific info would be most welcome.
Oct 01 2007
This first one is my favorite, so far:
This one is a bit of an homage to the Fender Telecaster logo:
Personally, I don’t think the 2nd one will fit nicely on the headstock. The first one would, though…
Sep 26 2007
What follows are two pieces of recently discovered art that were created back 1971. The first is an illustration, and the other text. Enjoy!
Sep 23 2007
I have to say that SoundWalk2007 was amazing. There was a HUGE turnout, and a very diverse mix of young hipsters, folks about our age with their kids, and older folks too. There were about 50 works and/or performances spread out over 4 square blocks. Some were in cars, or in the backs of rented U-Haul trucks, some on roof-tops, in store-fronts, alley ways, on the sidewalks, and in galleries.
Some works were astoundingly simple. For example, an artist took 100 music box innards and mounted them all in one large wooden box. Somehow, there was a main mechanism that would hold them in check. You could wind up any number of them then release the master mechanism and they would play. The effect was actually quite pleasing. There was also a performance of “Napping Music,” in which 6-12 people lay, with blankets and pillows, on the stage. At one point several children wandered by and decided to lay on the floor next to the stage. This same group also did a performance where the musicians would only play if you touched them. Sweet.
On the other extreme, there was one piece that looked like a beautiful delicate sculpture of wire and lights but, upon closer examination, one realized that it was actually a very complex electrical circuit that responded to changes in light and sound. People were interacting with it, and it was quite delightful to see the looks of wonder on their faces.
As for me, I’ll give you a brief description of what I was doing. I was talking on my Cel Phone. There were two parts to this. The first part was, as I strolled around, me saying complementary things about folks as they walked by, as though I were sharing this with the person I was speaking to on my phone. “There’s a woman in front of me who has the most beautiful hair.” or “I’m looking at an older man who has the nicest face.” I was intentionally trying to communicate positive, and specific, statements about people in the area. The 2nd part was using my cel phone in places that might be seen as inappropriate, for example during the napping music performance. Some people responded by ignoring me, obviously so, to the point where I called it “Cel-Phone Shunning.” Even friends of mine would act this way. Others would glare at me and, once, someone pointed toward the door, suggesting that I leave.
Overall, I’d say that what I did was a success, but I felt myself being somewhat timid and not really pushing things as far as I could. For example, there’s a very nice restaurant in the area, and a friend suggested I go in, stand at the bar, and talk on my phone. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, though.
My friend Dennis brought his video camera, and I rented a wireless microphone system that allowed him to stand fairly far from me and, hopefully, capture some of the interactions. I’ve not reviewed the tape, but look forward to doing so. If we captured anything good, I’ll post it.
My sincere thanks to all the folks at Flood, who invisioned, produced, and sustained this amazing event, and invited me to participate. Thanks to Marco, Shea, Kamran, Frauke, Shelley, and all the amazing artists who participated this year.
Well, that’s about it for now.
xoxo
srw
Sep 17 2007
As I plough through the detritus of my life I occationally find tidbits, fragments, glimpses of times and places past, long forgotten connections, meaningful references, etc. No better example of this are phone messages. I remember feeling the need to get an answering machine at some point, mostly because 1) I was looking for a job and, 2) my friends all complained bitterly that they could never reach me, the elusive social butterfly that I was. Still, I don’t think the answering machine ever really solved any problems, and caused a few of its own.
I was living on 4th Street, just across from Chipper’s Corner (now the Pike) at Hermosa. I’d been working for Kinko’s but, at some point in this period, I lost my job. It took some time, but I eventually moved out of the apartment and back in with my mom, and started working for KLON.
Featured on the recording are Brian Hancock, Brian Nelson, Joanie Karnowski, Camille Smith, my roommate Jim Theibert, Larry Miller, Mike Dubois, Andrea Adkins, Rychard Cooper, Bebe Wolff, Marvin Wolff, and a few others. I am pretty sure that phone numbers from more than 20 years ago have no modern relevency.
Sep 13 2007
All I know is that this instrument belonged to my mom, and that it was bought a long time ago, and probably for very little money. The neck is fat and thick, bowed, with frets that are super thin. It is difficult to play, and the intonation goes to hell if you wander above the 5th fret. It was intended to be a ‘classical’ nylon string guitar but when I replaced the frozen tuners, I strang (stringed) it up with phosphor bronze strings instead.
Sep 13 2007
I am not exactly sure why I got this instrument. I think I saw a picture of one and fell in love with it. I found one in the recycler for a fairly reasonable price and purchased it. This is a fantastic instrument, made well, and solidly, with good electronics. It is American made. The only real downside is that it is incredibly heavy which, I’m sure, adds to its beefy tone. Still, I only use it for recording because, after playing one gig with it, I was in agony.
Sep 13 2007
When I joined Blue Dot it was made clear to me that my fretless instruments weren’t welcome. Although I borrowed a fretted instrument for a while, I decided to commit to playing one and purchased a pewter sparkle Fender P-Bass Lyte, which had active P/J pick-ups, a wonderful fast neck, and a lightweight body. It sounded great. Unfortunately, it got stolen out of my car after a gig so I was forced to play my Gibson Victory, which was back-breakingly heavy. After one gig with the Victory, I was hitting the recycler and found this very inexpensive, and somewhat thrashed, Japanese P-Bass.
After reading an article by Rick Turner (A co-founder of Alembic, and owner of Renaissance Guitars) I replaced the existing p/u with a Seymour Duncan Quarter Pounder, and had it wired directly to the output jack, bypassing both the volume and tone controls. This produces a wonderful, bright, clean sound with lots of low fundamentals.
This was my primary gigging bass for quite some time.
