December 5, 2004
Tamra, Adria, Jesse, Linda, Ragan, and Drew came
Sarah and Adria and Tamra spent most of the evening printing
wheat stalks on shirts, dresses, and ties. JPM mastered a CD
bootleg he taped in 1995. Mike our landlord came
by to remove heater grates and vacuum the dust bunnies out.
While all that was happening, I started plugging in an
array of sound machines: bass and guitar into smokey 9v battery
pocket amps and a tiny practice amp i have; plugged a couple of
microphones in, played smashed LPs on a fisher price turntable,
blew kazoos and tin whistles, beat on a tin pan, ran the bass
and guitar through a half-broken talker effects box. JPM put a
mic in the traffic cone Sarah and I saved from someone's garbage
last night; this acted as an old-fashioned horn to compress sound.
Sarah and I started a detox so no drink or smokes for me; instead,
i got lost in the wacky process of everyone making some noise
banging, plucking, blowing and getting mics to feedback piercingly.
I smashed a record and scotch taped it back together. It looked and
sounded so good I got to wondering what it would be like to smash
and reassemble a few different records mosaic-style, so after everyone
left I stayed up till 3:30 hot-gluing 6 smashed records back together.
The process was better than the finished product, which is OK. We're
all trees in an orchard--the more fruit we bear, the better. Inevitably,
some of that fruit is gonna be shaped weird or bad tasting. That doesn't
mean one should stop growing. The more freaks in the world, the better.
Freedom and freakdom are part of the same kingdom.
Waitaminnit.... What king? Forget
I said that. Forget everything.
December 5, 2004