presently.

de-cluttering (my life in boxes).

[the science of Tetris, and sleep-memory].

flashes:
1. faces.
2. routes.
3. sounds.
4. inventions (deconstructions/fusions/syntheses).

discoveries:
1. everyone but my father thinks I look like my mother.
2. laughter disappears when we are solitary (and without 'supplemental' social mediums)

tensions:
1. what constitutes a 'social medium,' anyway? (the line is blurry).
2. I am special; I am special; I swear I'm special; I'm just like everyone else.

presently by Leslie Albanese is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Inspired by Radiolab; on Laughter, among other things.

leaping.

Sometimes I feel like a horse with boat shoes, where the land wobbles and the water sinks.
And then I kick 'em off and remember: horses are excellent swimmers.
Oh, silly ebb and flow; you've frayed and faded my puzzle pieces.
Oh, silly ebb and flow; I don't mind.

leaping by Leslie Albanese is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Holiday

"For my sister who sometimes needs to take time to grieve with the world. Don't forget what a beautiful place it is. With love from Frances, Christmas 2010."

[photo: cousins Maize (head-bopping), Zoe (leap-frogging), and Oliver (mohawk-rocking);
they are part of my beautiful place]

Wait- Galway Kinnell

Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: the enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asked to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.

Wait.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear,
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.

--

Maybe faith is just an active--it cannot be passive--acceptance of others' love, and the hope that, despite all the darkness, we share enough goodness between each other to keep on//fight for.

Merry Christmas.

[[a little red box]]

(click to enlarge photos)

"One must be thrust out of a finished cycle in life, and that leap is the most difficult to make--to part with one's faith, one's love, when one would prefer to renew the faith and recreate the passion."
-- Anais Nin

"he was a good guy, but he had the laugh of a bad guy"

Cheese Manicotti, Stuffed Roasted Artichokes, and Fried Breaded Eggplant will be the most decadent, most artery-clogging Christmas Eve Feast. Ever. (Albanese style).

These past 3 days, I've enjoyed the likes of Ms. Molly Shea, Ms. Ericka Mobley, Mr. Gary Alan Bearden (+ Marina!!!), Mr. Alex Williams-Witzky, Mr. Shaun Thomas, and my newly engaged Canine Best Friends who are coming over tomorrow, too, for some Torres-inspired Pizza. Word on the street is: it's the kind of pizza that gets you free cab rides for life. Oh yes, and family. One could say I've been enjoying my family.

Here are some truisms:
1. my gas tank is low
2. my wallet is thin
3. my future is vague
4. but I'm surrounded by folks with captivating laughs.
5. and in a non-fatalist sort of way: I feel (more than a little) fortunate

Sometimes, I swear, it all comes down to mirrors and lenses.

crowded.

Thanks, Tim Xie, for sharing these photographs.

Drew is totally a creeper in this one:
This break is surely killing me. But only a little.

sound to touch like music to feel.

I'm just going to go ahead and project that Arcade Fire made last.fm's #1 most played for 2010. Either way, they're my #1.

Hearing Arcade Fire for the first time was like learning what music could be for the first time. It was my Freshman year in high school (so sometime '04-'05?). Dale was home (either already on OU's big holiday break, or for a weekend or something), and he, Frances, and I were driving his beat-up white Geo down Rt. 736, playing Neighborhood #2 (Laika). I think I owe my fascination with Régine Chassagne to Adam Torres (Adam, I don't know I ever told you that?), who likely introduced Dale to Arcade Fire in the first place. Hell, Adam, I think you introduced Dale to Southeast Engine, Joanna Newsom, and Neutral Milk Hotel, too-- who were all passed down to me through him around the same time. In a weird way, those 4 artists + oddly enough, Roman Catholicism, were what kept me strong for some of the hardest things I've faced to-date (all of which sort of compounded in those early years).

Funny--I've watched my musical tastes refine subtly each year--in high school I was jamming out to a lot more Brit-pop and a lot less banjo--but those 4 artists (plus a few others--Ryan Adams, Modest Mouse, & the old-folkys I inherited from my folks) have remained constants for a really long time...

Drew and I had a conversation about music the other day, and about "staying on top of the scene" so-to-speak, and I've gotta say: as much as I love discovering new music (it's a hell of a feeling), part of me doesn't mind humbly playing and re-playing the same familiar artists I've been in love with forever. Music isn't an image. It shouldn't be exploited to project some status of "hip-ness." Music is a feeling. It's always been a feeling.

Actually I listened to an old Radiolab the other day on Musical Language (which--side note--did a fascinating re-visit of Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring), and in the episode this psychologist, Anne Fernald, describes sound as touch. Science confirms it: hearing is the act of sound vibrations touching our ears in different places, at different frequencies. I guess, internally, I took it a step further (the podcast doesn't go here, but it could, I think):
If touch is the action that gives the result of feeling (like looking is the action that results in sight, for example)-- and if sound is touch...
wouldn't music be the feeling that results from the action of touching (sound)?

It doesn't really work when you analyze it, I guess. That's the funny part. Feelings shouldn't be deconstructed by literary devises or critical theory--

(oh, this is a head/heart thing, isn't it?)

sound to touch by Leslie Albanese is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.