Cosmic Sandpaper

The weekend is crawling to its close; on its last legs but not quite finished.  I should be packing a bag right now, planning my week and trip but my mind can’t leave this moment.  I’m content to leave all the details for the morning and while away in Sunday evening.

The weekend surprised me.  Actually, the last couple weeks surprised me.  Since I returned to New York I have felt a little numb.  I thought there was a chance that the city would have a Novocaine-like effect on me and the irony is that I have been numb to my own numbness.  Drifting through the days and nights, so filled with so much goodness, I am tingling now; coming to, shaking off the anesthesia and feeling flooded with all the bits and pieces of the last weeks.  The details that I normally like to wade in are flooding me and I’m happy to sit here on my couch and let them.

The thing about moving is it shatters routines to pieces and lays waste to the order of what was.  Disorientation is like cosmic sandpaper; buffing and polishing as it wears away edges and reveals the essence of things.  In my own lost way, I can see familiar pieces of me bobbing up to the surface, tied loosely together with new threads and modified perspectives.  Retrospectives.  Connectro-spectives.  The rhythm of conceive, create, experience, reflect that I relied on like clockwork to measure my careful days is now more like free form jazz.  There is space between the notes,  they jumble and then pause, they collect and then spill over…yesterday’s metronome is obselete and my clockwork has melted like Dali’s Persistence of Memory.  Dripping and moving like liquid finding it’s new level.   I have no idea what my new level is going to look like and I can’t guess when full sensation will return.  I have no idea what my routine will evolve into and I am looking forward to finding a new rhythm for this new soundtrack that is my life.

If the past few days are any kind of indicator, I think the rhythm might rock ’cause there are a lot of good stories heating up like coals in the fire…

Reunion

New York Fucking City!

If you’re wondering about this shot, it was taken last night on the tail end of the tail end of a frozen margarita (or 2) after the Rocks Off Rock and Roll Walking Tour.  I learned some things, had some fun and shot some pictures…

NJPW Invasion Tour

Had I known that Rock and Roll history was going to lead me to the East River, under a bridge and smack dab into the middle of some Japanese Pro-Wrestling, well, I might have brought my camera.  OH WAIT!  I did.  Click here to see some more photos of these legends (or whatever).  Good times.  Great oldies.