dissipate / exuberance / return

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The Sanctum did not flood (nor did the basement, surprisingly) and it seems that yesterday's road-and-field-obliterating floodwaters have dissipated – most fortunate, given the 20ºF+/- temp drop yesterday afternoon and evening: backroad ice skating not recommended.

(Also not recommended: being headbutted by an exuberant German Shepherd dogchild at 0600 (or at any time of day or night) for the stars, they shine they shine.)

Efforts to replace DVDs with Blu editions continue even though I told myself they wouldn't (a balm, no doubt, for the acute and unfolding reminder of why I left this backwater hell in the first place twenty years ago and consider my return to be – in spite of my connubial and dogchild bliss – a failure) until I made my way through the other unopened results of said efforts (LES VAMPIRES, NOSFERATU, MULHOLLAND DRIVE, among others)): ordered the Blu of VAMPYR when I ordered Chemex filters because the impulse buy (via premeditation) has come to online ordering in the form of shopping lists. Dream TSR guest remains Guillermo del Toro to talk NOSFERATU and VAMPYR.

16+ hours of Eliane Radigue right here.

Might've figured out the thing that the thing discussed yesterday wants to be: my wife read it and liked it so of course I changed the form because it still didn't feel right (though I might be wrong – wouldn't be the first time) even when given the seal of approval by someone whose taste I trust implicitly. The question being now how (say brown cow) to release it in a way – other than newsletter exclusive / paid individual non-subscriber – that satisfies a desire to both get the thing out into the unforgiving silence of the ether AND experiment with physical release; while I'm as close as ever to a solution, I want to give it a few days to settle before I decide whether or not the solution I'm looking at is the solution I'm looking for or the solution I thought I was looking for.

And finally: it's good to be home – in this space, that is: couldn't think of a better new name to call these menagerie/collision morning ritual posts so it's only fitting that I return them to the name that always fit them best: Informalities.

floodwater modulae

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Committing to these once-daily things and only these once-daily things for the next week. Won't let myself backslide. This is a space about writing and thinking and the collisions that occur between.

The road and the fields below are flooded: a brutal rain last night. Fortunately, the Sanctum is dry – or, rather, I haven't stepped in a pond while working back here this morning; the condition of the other half of the paint shop TBD.

An anger brewing, fighting to get out: unsure if a return to meditation is a way to get through it or if my theory – that the last 20 years of meditating were an avoidance tactic to ignore what needed to be felt and that I'm now playing catchup with iterations of myself lost between breaths – is correct.

This, like the other half of the paint shop, is TBD.

Reticent to release what I've written over the last couple of days: it feels like more of the same but is, at the same time, wholly different. Might be best to accept that this rhythm, this sameness, is where I am creatively in this moment and that it's the end – or maybe the beginning, fuck if I know –  of this particular rhythmic book.

That said, having rechristened the former Stories Modulae, I do feel more free to write and to publish whatever springs to mind – even if I've (potentially) climbed so far up my own ass that I can't see the dog scratch on my nose in the half-hearted sun.

I am weary of being weary.

sun/20220306

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Kirby is barking at some unknown something somewhere in the world or across the street IDK... newsletter brain in full force, social media breaktime (save for TSR releases or other work notifications) because fuck it at this point: I've got my internet home and it's here... Started Spielberg's WEST SIDE STORY last night and goodlord the opening shot: every frame is a work of art – and Lenny's music still delights... MacroParentheticals0071 in +/60; the day awaits.

links/20220305

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sat/20220305

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Finally making sense of what I'm doing here, the form of this thoughtspace/stream being a cacophony of non-sequitur panel transitions/collisions hurled into it throughout the day with occasional allowances for aspect-to-aspect transitions maybe.

Plans to attempt evening work fell victim to a hypoglycemic bout during the day's run and resultant superhighbloodbounceball status throughout the day which rendered me an inert mess... trying going back after breakfast instead. Though I’m not a huge fan of jamming everything into the morning, I’m generally convinced that it’s the best way forward: it’s the one time of day that I’m all but guaranteed to have to myself thus making me the primary cause of any and all potential failure.

I am awash in wonderful Ukrainian music.

EarBliss0004 (Ukraine edition)

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Update/20220305: A post at Ambientblog made me aware of PLACES FOR PEACE, a four-hour+, name-your-own-price compilation from Home Normal, a Brighton-based ambient label: while the compilation is not comprised of Ukrainian musicians, all profits from the release go to UNICEF’s 'Donate to Protect Children in Ukraine' fund. I’ve added the embed below.

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Huge thanks to Michael Donaldson’s must-read 8Sided Blog for pointing me in A Closer Listen’s direction: they’ve provided a marvelous resource of Ukrainian musicians on Bandcamp and, as it’s Bandcamp Friday, all proceeds go to the musicians. First group of purchases: