Encounters at the end of the world - the movie.

film still

This time in Antarctica, Werner Herzog examines life from the microscopic to the hyperreal. We travel with him to McMurdo station where the over qualified staff gets panicky when Mr.Softee runs low. I had heard somewhere before that the drive to get off the base is imminent once you land, preferably to get into the landscape without a bucket on your head. The landscape, even in the movies, is profound. Above ground and under the ice Herzog captures the insanity in a way only he can. Determined not to make another penguin movie, Herzog has taken all the penguin movie prerequisites and craftily made them work. I laughed, I cried and I'm ready for tickets to his next adventure.

oh, and...

"...if that doesn't work there is an American Kennels around the corner...."

filled with cute little leukemia riddled puppy farm dogs.

retail therapy

Seems like a lifetime of struggling to understand the meaning of "living in the moment" has led to serious side effects such as profound short/long term memory loss, as well as the inability to concentrate for more than a few seconds at a time. In two very long weeks this has all changed. I get it. I just hope I get to keep it, since it is not the first time I've felt a subconscious breakthrough.
September 11th 2001 was a similar experience. This day was riddled with conflicting emotions exemplified by the fact that I witnessed the entire disaster from my Brooklyn rooftop with two of the most gorgeous french men I'd ever seen, while they smoked Gitannes in their underwear. I'm not kidding. They lit their cigarettes with flaming World Trade documents which landed on the roof while we quietly watched the universe come to an end. Jean-Marc and Nicholas rode their rental bikes to my place the day before having heard that I leased my top floor to handsome strangers, and we all woke up to Armageddon. The week following was amazing, the three of us ate and drank and talked about what would happen if we were the only ones left on earth. It was terrifying and beautiful and sad and thrilling and hopeless and dreamy.
Once again, serious adversity doesn't feel as much like a sentence as it feels like a second lease on life. I say this even after I was given an important list of instructions yesterday which included a "mandatory trip to Bloomingdale's...even if you just go in one door and out the other...the colors and smells will transport you"....to the local asylum maybe.

beyonce bought my crown today.

I hope it helps her complete her fairy tale.

fairy tales...

My Snow White story may be over but it's just in time for a different kind of Grimm tale to unravel.
Today, after the storm, I feel is essentially the first day of the rest of my life.

deer & moose picnic

After a long fruitless search for deer meat last year, we roasted a pig at the August picnic. This year, a new contractor stopped by on Friday with a bag full of venison steak he had butchered himself. Maybe he was trying to make good for not showing up all week. Just to mix it up a bit, my friend Ron brought local moose meat. Though both went over very well, I still have enough meat in my freezer for winter, which makes me feel closer to fitting in up here. For entertainment, the band tested a few songs from the album they cut at the Creamery. There was lots of positive feedback, but the kids and the old people thought it was too loud.

down to up

The band soon formed a theory that I was actually storing a big strong man in my hatch. They could not figure out how I was getting certain things done around the place. I told them that if I had a big strong man I'd put him on the roof like a hood ornament, not in a basement hatch. They were very helpful all week, from getting rid of rattle snakes to fixing my skylight situation. Their company was also very nice, even if I did start to feel somewhat like a youthful Mrs.Robinson or a rather mature Pennie Lane.

dig

Arrived home late last night after a long day in the big city. Good thing I decided to come back at all. I asked the boys nicely not to blow up the place while I was gone, and they didn't, but they did lock themselves out.
While getting ready for bed I heard a bunch of activity outside. Apparently they had taken their first break for air in many hours and the door locked behind them. They found me in my nighty writing emails and invited me out "for a smoke" before I let them in. We were all chatting out front when J discovered a hollow sound in the ground beneath him. He was convinced this was a passage to the basement that I insisted did not exist. There was a hatch however, with a soft floor, so they spent some time digging while creating many good stories (songs?) about what we might find. The preferred story of course involved discovering a stash left over from the previous pharmaceutical company owner who had also bricked up the windows for security. Needless to say this adventure remains incomplete.

staying alive

"does the book say anything about what to do when a band of boys takes over...sound equipment and all...
and how not to scare the animals?"
-SS

before


bob's barking at the mike

garage band

Teenage fantasy.
I spent a week cleaning out the garage to look like this:

In less than an hour it became this:

I hope they are respectful of Kiowa (the canoe).

pressure for updates...

At about 4:30 this morning I was shaken out of a deep sleep by a loud chirping sound. Of course my first city girl instinct was that the band was experimenting with a new genre. Actually, something was going awry in the natural world. Not sure what the birds were talking about, but either they were very happy or very upset. I sure hope they did not disturb the band's beauty sleep. Those guys worked for 11 hours straight and "cut six tracks...that's really great for one day". Sounded like one track to me but what do I know? So far it's going well, I am only slightly worried about the plumbing since the bathroom I put in the front is pretty precarious. The sewage has to go up a two inch pipe and over my head to get to the septic tank out back. At least I know they don't eat much.

P.S. The band is "doing a show" at the Creamery on Saturday afternoon (yikes). I know little about the music except that it kind of sounds like the Strokes meets Velvet Underground. Stop by.

P.P.S. Sorry Lindsey, no pictures yet...I'm working on it.

Day 2

Noon.
I hear some trumpet activity. Surprising that they quit before midnight last night, I guess they are on half country time ie. early to bed, late to rise. Just curious how they all slept in there with their mounds of equipment piled on every surface. Free love?

Creamery label.

I promised I'd post regular updates this week from Creamery studios.
Today five young (under thirty I imagine) virile boys arrived at Creamery ready to play. Rock and roll I think they call it. They are sweet and well mannered but I have been warned not to be fooled..."they are a rock band after all". This is a new era I say, I trust they will not attempt to trash this virtually indestructible bunker, they are business boys. And if it is a land of hedonism behind the wall who am I to complain anyway? They told me I was "cool" tonight. It wasn't long before they were comfortable enough to march through my space on their way to grill shrimp on the back porch. In the land of free love I guess I should not have been concerned that I was just getting ready to jump in the shower...which is wide open and essentially in the middle of the dining room. I fixed the lock, for now they can go around. More later.