words, words, words










 
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If you'd like to volunteer for the Russ Carnahan campaign for U.S. Congress Please give our offices a call at 534-2004 or email me at stephen@russcarnahan.org

biologic show
secret kings
waremouse
cucalambe
chrisafer
dogpoet
brent
salon
jeff
cho
rob



places to visit:
Center for Theology and Social Analysis
Lynda Barry
astralwerks
Sherman's Lagoon




Another place I write:
Queerday




relevant pasts:
fear of sunrise
manboylove
peaceful
soup
objection
who are you?
birthday
one year










 
If I begin to detail myself here, will you understand?



P. I am me
Q. I don't always know exactly who that is
R. I am Quaker
S. I like words and playing with them
T. I like genmaicha tea
U. I like the word napkin more than most others
V. I spend time walking my neighborhood
W. I cook rice often
X. I sleep well most every night
Y. I eat large amounts of fruit and vegetables
Z. I munch, sleep, write, create, cook, bike, watch, walk, listen, hope, learn, drink, live, breathe, touch, know, question, taste, copy, read, stare, carry, talk, dance, finger, try.





raisin@gmail.com



albums:

Magnetic Fields: 69 Love Songs
Erasure: I Say, I Say, I Say
Depeche Mode: Black Celebration
The Beach Boys: Pet Sounds
Marvin Gaye: What's Going On?
David Bowie: Hunky Dory
George Michael: Listen without Prejudice
George Gershwin: Porgy and Bess
Yo La Tengo: And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out


songs:

Wild is the Wind: Nina Simone
Come Undone: Duran Duran
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini: Rachmaninov
My Funny Valentine: Chet Baker
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate: The Flaming Lips
This Must Be the Place: The Talking Heads
Hyperballad: Bjork







many napkins
 
Wednesday, March 17, 2004  
I like discovering music i already have, bands that get lost in a giant mix of songs and newness. Today it's Kenna, thanks to Jeff. i want to know the words enough to sing along, to share the harmony they're creating. It's not music i would generally like, i don't think, but maybe that's why it's so much more exciting. it's too loud, and i'm too tired, and i need to do laundry, but listening to this music, yeah, it reminds me of getting a new cd back in middle school. my dad would buy us christian music, people like bryan duncan and kim boyce, and of course amy grant and michael w. smith. i would play it lying on my bed, with the insert opened up so i could read the words and pretend i knew the words and had been hearing this music for months. I read everything, the thank yous and the people they worked with when the chorus repeated itself, every last inch of it, because music is rarely as consuming as i want it to be.

i can't 'just' listen to music, i have to read or clean or wash or do some other activity so that the music soaks into me a little unnoticed. Music only exists on its own when i know it so well that i create stories in my head to it, when i remember first hearing it, or all those times i listened to it. and then, when it does that, i'm hooked, and when i talk about the music, you'll see my blood start to rush and my voice come out faster, like it does when i talk about teaching survival training during the summers at the air force academy, training for and racing in triathlons, or the moon rainbow i saw driving through southern california on my way to oklahoma, these parts of my life whose memories caffeinate me.

it will take a while before Kenna can do that to me, and i don't know that it will. but the possibility is there, and powerful enough to keep me listening.

11:57 AM

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