Harvest time began with 80 degree temperatures.
The chill set in shortly thereafter.
Everything is about to
fall asleep for a few months.
Lauryn spent four years trying to escape school
every day so NATURALLY she came back to visit.
Fogtober played its climatic tricks on us.
I just finished reading this amazing memoir
and moved on to watch Grace Jones' documentary
Bloodlight And Bami... HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.
This month marks the 50th anniversary of
the Roger Vadim film Barbarella which features
a character that inspired the band name of a
bunch of young upstarts from Birmingham, England.
I survived watercolor gridlock.
Hannah and Erin stopped by B-135.
They're thriving in college (as I knew they would).
I had a Mondri-onut
and my friend Janie brought
me some old time confections...
Studio floors and skies remain,
shifting second by second in shadow play.
Confession:
Andy Williams is my nerd crush.
Fields and alleyways
still carry some deep green.
There's morning cloud drifting
and Saturday afternoon thrifting.
I wonder if Big Daddy Rat
and Only Me enjoyed Teen-Age Tales.
Masquerades and shiny prizes.
I'm always here
for my favorite floor...
I dunno what this is
but I'm definitely intrigued.
Intimate, sparse and stirring.
A Prince home demo from 1983.
35 minutes of quiet but bold magic
that was recently released on vinyl.
The sun travels over ridges and across lawns,
its face shining on us for shorter amounts of time.
We have roadside sentinels
and second story look out points.
We have savory and sweet.
We have red and orange.
We have vines like exposed wires.
We have a carnival of color.
We've got Chancey (and Dad).
We've got pumpkins and pinwheels.
Early morning... An Acrylic demo
My friend Steve and I watched the
Luca Guadagnino remake of Suspiria.
Phenomenal acting and production design but
I'm confused by some of the director's choices,
especially concerning the final segments of the film.
This is the new Culture Club LP Life.
It deserves MANY listens and a lot of praise.
As always, there are some
older titles in the mix on my turntable.
October exits. November enters.
Days and nights flicker on and off.
Check in. Check out. Check back soon.
