i am adrift in rhythmic narrative permutations and still think like a composer, apparently

Not that there's anything wrong with that but yes, the days of yore are still present, in some recess of my brain. Could I still write a piece of music to save my life? Not sure I could back in the back when, to be honest – but it's moderately comforting to feel that the rhythmic sense is still there, simmering.

Realizing that, in my own way, this thing, this process of mine, is something akin to how The Necks do music: small, incremental and improvisatory changes to rhythm, tone, and modality around one basic idea that coalesce into a previously unimagined (to me at least) whole. Maybe this is the way I've always done things and I'm only now figuring it out – or maybe I'm repeating myself; fuck if I know.

Finished Mieko Kawakami's BREASTS AND EGGS yesterday (fantastic): since I've made my way back to these once-daily things – the original design of this site –  I'll be publishing a "Reviewed" post coming at some point in the next few days, probably Saturday, a compilation brief thoughts and recs on things I've let sublet my brain over the last week.

Fantastic TSR chat with Maud Newton last night about ANCESTOR TROUBLE, one of those conversations that remind me of why I started the show in the first place: rejuvinative creative discussions in the vein of the chats I have with Jess when she works her tattoo-artistry magic on my arms. Chat with Maud should be live sometime in the next couple of weeks. Have to wrangle the newsletter for the rest of the week, think about and write about my background in music, as per Maud's request. Also have to make appointment with Jess to start the left sleeve.