New discipline
I want to take stock of and refine my media diet. I’m surrounded by headlines and hungry for context. My old filters have drifted out of calibration or I away from them. I’m holding out for islands of honest analysis in a sea of spinning assertions. I want to fortify my politics with poetry, more intricacy than intrigue, to strip the arbitrary from my art. I find this music full of bombast and static, and am unmoved.
Improvised this morning
2 frozen bananas, peeled
½ cup frozen blueberries
½ cup frozen raspberries
1 cup orange juice
1 huge-ass beet, diced
Add all ingredients in a blender and frappé.
Voilà, beet smoothie.
(Add water to preferred taste/consistency.)
2 down, 8 to go.
C’mon, they help prevent cancer!
My CSA share never fails to include at least 3-4 beets each week. Unfortunately they take a lot more time and effort to prepare than any of the other vegetables, so my roommates and I just let them pile up in bottom of our fridge. Tonight I cooked them all at once, hoping that would encourage us to eat them over the next few days. No takers so far… Looks like I’ll be crying pink tears this week.
Anyone have any good recipes?
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In addition to editing an audio tour this weekend, I also engineered a concert at El Taller. People usually hang around for hours after the concerts end, drinking wine, strumming guitars, and singing folk songs. This Saturday, I left my flash recorder on a table and joined in on the drums (empty water cooler jugs). Here’s an excerpt from around 2:30 in the morning:
Building Calluses
I haven’t been playing as much guitar lately, so tonight I dug out my acoustic. After playing around with a new chord progression for a while, I decided to record and improvise some layers on top of it.
A client needed to send me some production materials–a script and some audio recordings–in order for me to begin work on a short project tomorrow. Normally they’d just upload the files to my FTP sever, but in this case everything was a hard-copy: the script printed on paper (with hand-written notes) and the audio burned to CD-R. These hard copies were also in midtown Manhattan and I’m in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. Someone had to go pick them up.
Just to be clear (least my colleague read this and get the wrong idea) this wasn’t a big deal and I’m not really complaining. I only mention it as another one of ways I see my digital and analog lives blurring. I’ve grown so used to making these kinds of exchanges online that taking a few extra minutes to make a physical hand-off somehow seemed…maybe not antiquated so much as unnecessarily inefficient given the tools at our disposal.
Again: NOT a big deal. The subway makes New York City a reasonably good sneakernet. Besides, I enjoy reading on the subway. I had just finished a book, so I grabbed one of my roommate’s magazines on the way out the door. (I tend to read magazines online these days.)
Settling into my Q train seat a few minutes later, I opened to the first page and caught myself thinking, who turned off Adblock?