homage,almonds


1,
it's awful windy and i'm pointing the other way. i hope that the wind doesn't knock anything over,no power lines no trees,nothing. we've been here over a year and still haven't ventured out much. we've only been downtown twice,and i wasn't surprised to find a rich composted soil under all the leaves we never raked up last year. they're all built up alongside the house,and in other little spots. i found the motivation to rake some of it up,haul it down the hill in the wheelbarrow to the old sheeprun where we dump all yard scraps. our stick pile is growing and every day i grow courage against cobwebs,digging old planks and other rotting wood objects out of the garage to paint.
i don't have any courage to say any of my own thoughts on those planks,old boxes. i mull over sayings of the desert fathers mostly,looking for something that keeps on teaching me,some encouraging message,nothing apocalyptic like you might expect from a fiery pulpit,preachers without compassion. preaching is for the birds!


2,
my philosophy on what i listen to is rooted in stubborness. those things that you discover are those things that you love deeply. i'm a bit weary of reviews,but sometimes like reading them just to get an idea. i'm someone who refuses to listen to certain things until i feel it absolutely necessary,i accept that i'll likely later feel like a fool for not listening earlier. i did this with bad brains,rites of spring,and a few other things. but i like discovering things on my terms,and we like to share things with others.
i haven't been to a show in a few years(not counting seeing mewithoutYou last month,i don't count it because i wasn't interested in seeing any of the bands just wanted to see aaron,chris,nikki and all those guys) and that's really helped my being out of the loop on new music. even with as much information as you can while watching from outside,i still feel like i'm missing out by flipping through boxes of records,being handed a zine,watching bands. i've been lucky enough to be able to communicate with a few individuals who are just amazing,appreciate their words,opinions.


3,
how much heaping up can you do? i don't know what they
might call it,how i heap up information. it
doesn't feel like a packrat kind of thing. it's mostly
a fear of forgetting. great fears
like the other day when i couldn't get a word
out and started talking with my hands,i
turned the word 'intercom' into part walkie-talkie,
part streamers whirling.
but i do heap up information,friend's writings,
facts like pressing information on certain records,
images of old john coltrane and eric dolphy records,
interviews with artists,musicians i like,etc.


4,
the fire in the roof,the holy center of more fire and faces you can't see. i'm happiest when the wind presses the door tighter closed,pushes the swing against the house and makes everything suspicious. sounds like a life at sea,my father in-law survived at sea,my nana's father and brother perished under a frozen lake champlain. don't be surprised if i fear forever shanty towns on ice lakes,ice drills,even the string they use to fish with. i suddenly classify the entire thing as unnatural and put a personal ban on the whole idea.
the piece of me that has to survive spring and summer,just to get back into longsleeves,jackets and hats. don't be surprised if i wear the hat regardless,it means something else to me. you should know that,because it never covers my ears which are often cold. they might say about me,'he appreciated caps,but never wore them right.'


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