Middling City singer-songwriter Pam Ryder (and boys) were on fire last night, I was so impressed with how far she's come as a performer. She rocked with Throwing Muses fury and Nietzsche's was packed.
Tomorrow is the ARTVOICE Street Festival, from 1-8ish. Me and Donny K and Marky booked the bands and arranged them on four stages. My longtime favs, Last Conservative, who've gone through major personnel changes (half the band left) I put on one of the stages early, thinking that because of the instability they should not have a more populated later set. Apparently TJ was upset about playing at 1:30. Oh well.
Really don't care too much for the headliners - Nighthawks and Cracker - but what do you want for free, what do you want for a day's work.
After the fest will rush home and lay out the column and file.
Then back on the plane at 6AM to return to GradLife.
Sun-filled Love.

More lauds to Justy for yanking me from Chelsea art op fabulousness to greater rockstar fabulousness. Namely the Wilco and Sonic Youth gig at Central Park's Summer Stage. Ani's playing there in a while and I'm going to call thee Tom at thee MTV for credentials and then I'll insert her into my column.
It was a grand show and the contrast between the mellow, summer-diggin' crowd and that of the swilling Middling City masses usually at Thursday at the Square was gigantic. At one point during Wilco's excellent set I asked Justy's pal/occasional bandmate Nick for a light, specifically a ligher. Then held it aloft during a more poignant Wilco ballad. You might deduce from this post that I missed SY... sadly they were not headlining. How were they not headlining?
Jetting back to the Middling City in a few hours to shoot non-stop, make the freelance moola paying for Parsons.
The woman who manned the Polaroid for my PSD id, I speculate, was on mind-altering drugs. My head is barely in the frame. But in true DMV photo style, she caught me at my most awkward facial gesturing.
Time to rock.
Love.

Let us get down to brass tacks, I say. Let me not link you to Gary Wright's masterful ballad Dream Weaver, let me paste it in here and now for you.
This Dream Weaver = harmless, simply-structured.
The other Dream Weaver = furious, complexly-structured and I am afeared I'll be reaching my own morning light before I can say I understand it. Here's hoping in a few days I look back at this post with uproariousness.
Love.

I've just closed my eyes again
climbed up on the dreamweaver train
tryin' to take away my worries of today
and leave tomorrow behind

Chorus:

Ooo Dreamweaver, I beleive you can
get me through the night
Ooo Dreamweaver, I beleive we can
reach the morning light

Fly me high through the stary skies
and maybe to an astral plane
Cross the highways of fantasy
Help me forget todays pain

repeat Chorus

tho the dawn may be coming soon
there still may be some time
fly me away to the bright side of the moon
and meet me on the other side

Ooo Dreamweaver, I beleive you can
get me through the night
Ooo Dreamweaver, I beleive we can
reach the morning light
Dreamweaver...
Dreamweaver....

yikes-a-roni, just because I have a freakin' blog makes me no webmistress.
Having a helluva time with Dream Weaver (really can't say those two words together without thinking of that guilty pleasure pop song) and the naming of things and where in hell they're landing and such.
Felt like the class was suddenly being taught in Korean and now I'm off to grab the textbook to see if I can sort this out and then unloose my inner rockstar webdominitrax.
The cast of characters of the class swirls and we are so busy it's difficult to really bust loose and get to know each other.
By the end of the 8 weeks I hope to be able to completely kick ass - offline and on.
My addled and rollicking love.
ps: so many hits today (still not close to the record) as my blog was brief required reading for Wired Studio

Oriented beyond belief right now, after about 7 or so hours of welcoming, information gathering and talking at Parsons.
Now catching up on the work part of my life and about to rejoing the pedestrians of NYC and see if Dorota is up to sushi and mischief.
All for now and over and out,
Love

Off to the end gig of the Middling City Guitar Festival in moments. A sunny affair with mid-tempo, mid-career bands.
Last night shot a society wedding and as I did the backwards walk in front of the bride there to my left was Kenneth Jaworski of Netherlands, specifically Amsterdam, fame and fortune. Talked to him later and he told me that he's in a band there, called Delaware, and that they hired some snazzed-out firm to design their cd package.
Got over the DMB sticker turn-in fiasco. Slightly.
My images of Dave rival any true artpiece. They are masterful, capturing his nuances well - the curved left eyebrow, the contorted fingers on frets, the devilish little smile.
Ahh, Dave.
There are occasional explosions outdoors and I forget every year that in this lawless corner of the Middling City this is where folks love to blow shit up in summertime.
I myself enjoy the colorful, flaming style pyros. The pickled man (read drunk) next door is not awakened by explosions in my backyard, only my loud whoops of awe - I am sure.
Tomorrow grad school.
Today the caffeinated newspaper deadline.
My Libran, balanced and convoluted Love.