The gentle giant
word from Martha
N.A.S.A. featuring Tom Waits and Kool Keith
This puts the whole steampunk movement in an interesting curated perspective
Well with the blustery storm we had here in Portland yesterday I have finally given in and settled in to a life of chilled bones and achy fingers. I sense my nesting instinct kicking in and a strong desire to stay indoors and camp under a blanket at night. The last couple of tracks on the new Strokes front-man Julian Casablancas’ release Phrazes for the Young seem quite fitting on a grey flat day made for finding that constant time marches on rhythm. This season will pass, sunny days will return but for now I’ll be content with an extra layer on the torso and my cold achey hands wrapped around a hot steamy bowl of Pozole from Cha Cha Cha
The lanterns at Pix Patisserie were swingin’ a plenty tonight. Gretel was quite interested in the mysterious sounds from within.
more stuff I did today. Dig the cool pillow Robyn created for the new 1/2n. housewares line
In progess. i’m really digging these Pentel Slicci pens. Tiny ball-point tips (.025mm) that are a lot more sturdy than microns.
so inspirational, especially the different and exciting alternatives too boring old school calendars
Every day I wish that I could get in the car and just drive, somewhere, anywhere. Just me, my sweetpea and a paper cup on the dashboard like the proverbial carrot on stick. The open road before us, beckoning, calling out for us to discover destinations unknown.
Feeling strangely pensive and out of whack this morning. Could be the weather and I should know better living in Portland and all. I think it’s more about reflecting on some of the poor decisions I have made in my personal life and how the past effects the present. Thinking my ADHD was left behind with my youth, very poor choices in personal partners and more recently my anxiety when faced with change. Too much information? I don’t think so. Perhaps others struggle with many of these same issues and I am human and make mistakes just like we all do. I look at this as all part of the process. Getting from Point A to B has never been a direct route for me, and I’m about to take a hard left turn.
All I can be is a busy sea of spinning wheels
And hands the feel for stones to throw
And feet the run but come back home
It make no difference, ever known
Make no difference, ever known to me
If I could you know I would
Just hold your hand and you’d understand
I’m the man who loves you
