Thursday, November 28, 2002
85222200:: 11:55 AM

Went to the Rainer Maria show last night. Quite good. Some dude asked if I would post the pictures I was taking, so here they are. Also posting some Rainer Maria pics from a show last year. I don't exactly remember the names of all the opening bands for that show, but there are pictures of them nonetheless.

Wednesday, November 27, 2002
85182999:: 2:51 PM

I just had a thought -- something of a reaction to reading Wittgenstein recently and Heidegger previously. Both these philosophers spend a great deal of time dissecting the manner in which language creates our world.

Yet, after recently reading an article which mentioned Ben Stein (who went to my HS, as did Connie Chung, Goldie Hawn, etc)... I began thinking about the way that geography is something of an unspoken shared language. Most often when people speak of famous alumni, it's ostensibly as a matter of prestige; but I think there is something else to it. The idea that Vonnegut suffered the same dreary winters and the same laborious hills, or that Sagan walked in muggy August air to the same building where I once worked. There is a special sort of language that is created by these places :: symbols and relationships linking remembered sights and peculiar meteorology becomes part of the knowable and the known. The paths that we learn to navigate in space form pathways in our brain which give familiarity to place, just as the words that we speak and conversational avenues we pursue form pathways in locales of dialogue.

I am familiar with the measured forwardness of scientific argument, of the branching speculation of chess analysis, of the curlicues, bold statements and fleeting-epiphanies of artistic forums... each is like a physical place. The concepts are like buildings: laid out in space. with proximity and various routes to connect them. Each has a mode of transport... in some places you walk carefully and leave a clear path, while in others its perfectly fine to teleport. A new idea which breaks a well established conceptual road is as disruptive as major construction along your daily commute.

Saturday, November 23, 2002
84982005:: 1:39 PM

After getting ramen and chicken fillets at the store, I stopped by Area 51 to see how the show was coming together. When I headed toward the back, one of the clerks looked at me and his face lit up:

Clerk: Hey, you're one of the trademark artists?
me: Uh, yeah. Just wanted to see how the show was coming together...
Clerk: You did the pieces with the spray paint, right? Did you bring more? (pointing at my bag)
me: No. These are my groceries. I guess you liked the work?
Clerk: Loved it! I'm definitely buying one. Chuck thought it was great too. He's going to get the green one
me: Uh, cool. -- Should I bring in more? (which green one?!??)
Clerk: Definitely, if you could?
me: Yeah... ok. Cool.

The only problem of course is I didn't give them a green anything. I have no idea who they thought I was, but I guess that guy is a good artist.

Thursday, November 21, 2002
84884283:: 11:53 AM

I just found out that the 2003 U.S. Chess Championship is happening Jan. 9 - Jan. 18 about 1.5 miles from apartment. In high school I played a decent amount of chess, and I have an old board with a couple grandmaster signatures on the back. With some luck, I can finish filling up that board, and get some blitz games with the best in the US.

Monday, November 18, 2002
84714014:: 9:20 AM

The trial pix remix took place last weekend. You can see the preliminary results here. Names and locations of contributing designers are all the top of each image. I'm number 4. Most designers put the image through the blender. I guess I'm mellowed out from working on switch sessions.

Sunday, November 17, 2002
84694860:: 10:09 PM

Worked on something of a joke series today: created entirely using windows paint. This is a pretty poor program as it stands, but to futher worsen the situation I did the series on my laptop (has a inaccurate touch pad). I did two catagories of things:

animals: [1] [2] [3] [4]
people: [1] [2] [3] [4]

Ironically, I used to spend hours using windows paint back in 1988-1991. Trying to make good looking images with 16 (awful) colors, often "dithering" huge swaths by hand. I did a wing commander background, a lemmings background, and numerous others. For more old school flavor listen to tracks 3 and 4 from Frank Spada vs. Tom Chi. whiirrrrr ... e.l.e.c.t.r.o. !!

84678225:: 3:27 PM

Today the Olympic mountains are the clearest I've ever seen them. The contours distant, but clealy outlined, with a distinct patchwork of snow laid across the peaks. They are the same color as the clouds.

Thursday, November 14, 2002
84567595:: 11:56 PM

I just realized yesterday that credit cards are golden rectangles. Funny that this pure, abstract symbol of beauty is in everyone's wallet and now charges an annual fee!

Wednesday, November 13, 2002
84464035:: 1:17 AM

6 minutes, 7 1/2 seconds
::
the instant when "svefn-g-englar" by sigur ros metamorphasizes from peaceful to epic. That those strings struck years ago and thousands of miles of way could create this moment; here, now... is incredible.

Tuesday, November 12, 2002
84461168:: 11:21 PM

Tonight it rained.

Tonight it rained so hard that (even through double-paned glass) it sounded as if the drops were landing inside. Hitting hard against the kitchen linoleum, the drops fashioned an advancing puddle behind me as I washed the dishes. Of couse when I turned to look, there was no such puddle. Just rain thudding loudly against the window. And thunder :: like the sound of heavy construction -- booming with occasional demolition; rumbling throughout.

In the backgound I'm listening to "Original Pirate Material" by The Street, streaming. The sound of rinsing dishes connects to the rain, forming a low wall that the music must step over to reach my ears. The album: a UK MC rhyming darkly over minimal 2-step is surprisingly personal; thoughtful. "Good work," I think to myself, until the smell of lemon palmolive and week-old tea brought me back.

As I write this, the storm has passed. The moon is out and the air clear. A few small puffs of cloud are being blown by at an incredible pace. I watch them track toward me, over the top of my complex and out of sight. The light from distant buildings has grown brighter and clearer, and the reflection of highway cars in their windows more vivid.

Friday, November 08, 2002
84266030:: 9:37 PM

sketch:
friday night, 9:05 seattle

I step into Aurafice Cafe looking to get my chess fix, but today there is something of a crowd lined up facing the corner right by the door, where a man stands behind a vibraphone and a woman sits crammed to an acoustic guitar. I walk up near the chess tables, (in this tiny space its only 10 steps in from the door), but two teenager girls have taken my spot. The one with purple hair is gesturing not speaking, and the music begins. The vibraphone sets a pace, and I watch. The singer doesn't know her lyrics. They are on a music stand in front of her. Still she forgets them, but keeps going, and I can see a figure moving behind the musicians: outside the window. He looks like he just stepped out of the 92 rave scene, with the hair and all the arbitrary bits of color and line which you might expect. He probably wasn't in the scene though, since he'd be around 5 at that point in time. He is sitting on a bench, and his arms are moving wildly, not to the music; which is near inaudible outside even with the light traffic on pine street ... only then do i realize that he is communicating loudly in sign language to the purple haired girl to my left. They are having a heated conversation about "something"
...
In the opposite corner to the performers (really only 4 steps away), some middle-aged women play scrabble, and a goth kid pulls out a portfolio with a KMFDM sticker on it -- he must of been 11 when the last KMFDM album came out. In the last corner, there is an old Native American man. Gruff, nodding to the music, and a technophile black boy/girl? with his/her cell phone in one hand and PDA in the other. S/he gets up for a second and loses the seat to purple girl's friend. The song ends.

The band says they have one more, since they only know six songs... and are soon into a children's tune about tigers and hippos and the like (she forgets some of these word too). The song is short, but I get impatient, as there is a warm burritto in my hand that needs eating (and green jello in my pocket). There is no place to sit, so when they finish, I exit. I pass the raver kid outside, still signing, laughing.

Wednesday, November 06, 2002
84124559:: 9:22 AM

So I've started a new musical composition approach (called "switch sessions" or "musical timeshares" [MTs]) and am pretty psyched by the results so far. Check out some of the songs generated from these sessions in the "recent projects" area.