What is the light???

Well, in direct defiance of that last post, here's my Top 5 Things About Going Outside:

1. The breeze in my hair
2. The sun in my face
3. The smell of grass and flowers
4. Drifting clouds
5. Birds singing

I don't know, maybe it's sappy, but... I'm skeptical. If you can't enjoy the simple things, what can you enjoy?

Love,
Ian

Well, shiver me timbers

Huh. So we went to Beloit tonight to check out Indred Cold's reunion show (it's good to see those boys are back in the saddle with the silver spoons) and ended up playing the first Plumed Serpent show as well, which went over infinitely better than I had thought it would, given how, you know.... absolutely everything we did was improvised right there on the spot.The Overflowing Cup is, you know, kinda weird, butI'd have to say it was a substantially killer gig.

I realized in this past week that I haven't read much poetry in the last couple of months. I've been devouring T.S. Eliot and e e cummings lately, but I'm also jonesing for some Robert Browning and some John Donne.
I wish I was a poet... maybe I can be a critic, at least. I think the best critics are the ones who also introduce their own artistry to the world, instead of simply offering their opinion of everyone else's.

I think I might devote this here into my critical training ground, because honestly... regurgitating stuff that's happened to me is kind of boring, and redundant. If something happened that I think is significant (heck, even if it isn't) I will probably have told you already. There you have it, then. Forthwith, I will dedicate this simply to critical essays and reviews and really hone my art. If there is artistry to criticism. That might be worthy of an essay in and of itself, I don't know, but this sounds infinitely more interesting than most of what I've been posting lately. And I mean infinitely.

The truth is the truth, no matter how many sophists convince the world otherwise, or how they redefine the word "truth" to guide others astray.

Love,
Ian

My toolshed!

Here's the rundown:

• Tigerpony shreds mega hard now that we're all getting a feel for it and composing wicked parts
• I don't think I have the heart to participate in an experimental study even if it does pay 4 figures or more
• My old man's moving pretty close to half a globe away in less than a month
• I didn't take ACTs or SATs three years ago because I'm a genius
• Eddie left his XBox at my place and now I pretty much thrash Far Cry and Battlefront II all the time
• I finally have fitted sheets for my bed once more (I never could find the old ones that had Pedialyte spilled on them, which means there must be a miniature black hole in the laundry room that thankfully I haven't stumbled across yet)
• ee cummings is a superb poet and I really wish I had a collection of his
• It needs to get warm. Now.

That's cribbly what's on my mind at the moment, that and the An End to Flesh show this Friday at the Journey, which, as usual, they will devastate, so be there or be square, kids.
PS Ian