Zero Bldg.
Okay, I just got this email from my fiance and I have to share it with the world.The strangest things happen when you adopt a pet:
Last night I came home from rehearsal and Zoey was sneezing. She would sneeze at least ten times in a row. the sneezes were very powerful and very loud, they even caused friendly beasts Casey and Aox to stop and look concerned. The sneezing continued into the morning. After a close inspection I found something sticking out of her left nostril. Grass? So I pulled, thinking it was a short something that had gotten lodged up there from being outside yesterday. No, I pulled once, and she shook her head and sneezed. The second time I pulled with more determination. I pulled a blade of grass as long as my pinky but not any wider than the band on my ring. So now she looks pitiful, but I haven't heard any sneezing. And the question remains, how did that get there?
See what your cat does when you're not around!!!
I'm really at a loss to explain this.
This morning's fog was all-consuming. Streetlights, headlights beamed through only to be subdued. It was as if I was driving through a low grade black hole. On the bus, I put Godspeed You Black Emperor's
Slow Riot ep through the headphones and watched the highway slide by and disappear.
There is no light yet at six AM, and in my commute I have yet to see a proper sunrise. Dawn is something that happens while I am underground. I repeat track one. The tired faces of other passengers read battle-weary through the music. The clamor of the train and it's shuddering stops and starts only inform "Moya"s crescendo and after it dies down, I hit repeat.
An electrical panel the size of a doorway has come loose and swings like a barn door with the train's momentum. The wiring inside is orderly and ancient. No one wants to see this, but the conductor can't leave his booth to fix it. It slams with disquieting force. I hit repeat.
At my stop the car is nearly empty. Emerging from the tunnel and coming into the haze of seven AM, I see the fog still grasping at the day. As it sucks from the sides of the twin office bldgs. that I pass between, I wonder why the architect made them look like Aztec pyramids. The overdriven bass gives way to a resigning cello and passes out almost entirely and I hit stop. Coming closer to school, I hear birds singing
perched on powerlines.
Meaning of Everything
Stoked, oh so stoked at the novelty of having my songs hosted online.
Get to downloading!
Among the bandwidth swag is "An Objective Look at a Family Album," which is I think the best song I've written so far. I just finished recording it about an hour ago, actually, and now it's online. Beautiful. Nick plays home organ on it.
THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT.
