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Showing posts from 2016

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  My mom was visiting and the girls were in a great mood.  I danced in the living room with both girls at once. I can't even remember the song, probably some African Christmas song. It was almost extraneous; merely an armature for the dance. I swirled both girls up in a swirl of magic, made them fly, and then land back down in a pose of grace. It was only a moment in time, a small one, but one that fully deserves to be here among these 1001.

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I was explaining to Sofia what a silhouette was, which lead to looking up the etymology. It was named after an 18th century French politician named Etienne de Silhouette. No one knows anymore why, which made me curious. Was it some kind of metaphor for shady dealings? Anyway, when I saw this graffiti cover-up on the wall in Doughboy park in Queens today I decided to take the silhouette selfie. I was dancing to a band Mandi Rudd introduced me to called Houndmouth. And they had one song, Sedona, with lyrics ending, "A Saturday night kinda pink." And I loved that idea, it made perfect sense. But it also hit me on a deeper level. I want my work week to be so good that I'm swimming in Saturday night pink. That's the goal. Swimming! Though it's Wednesday, there's a little Saturday pink in this pic. But mostly I just love it as a reaction to the political climate. The way the darkest moments can bring out the best in people, the way that can

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Went up Roosevelt to see if the Banksy I saw 3 years ago was still there. (See essay at end of this post.) Discovered on Spotify that the Hamilton Mixtape came out and listened to that. Listening to the "Immigrants (get the job done)" song from Hamilton, while dancing up Roosevelt and dodging in and out of immigrants of all stripes. Which all felt pretty good given the political climate these days.     good name for a twee band    a million things to see on Roosevelt Avenue     beautiful composition, natural. Or at least beautifully arranged by the poster putter-upper.    Finally made it to the wall. No more Banksy. Is it under the paint? I couldn't find a trace. And here's the essay I wrote and finished this morning about seeing the Banksy here 3 years ago. The Queens Banksy Chase On the morning of Oct 15th, 2013 my wife Genevieve sent me a text, letting me know that Banksy was in the midst of doing a residency in Ne

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This morning I listened to the band recommended to me a few days ago by the couple I met in the cemetary. Blockstop. It was great to dance to, jazzy hip hop with politically motivated lyrics. Just Be Just Be yourself, be clean, be kind, be beautiful be practical, creative, logical, open and original, be conscious, be aware, sensitive, be sensible, sensual, sentimental, take care of yourself and know your body, know your mind, know where you’re going mostly all of the time, be responsible, responsive, reach for autonomy and realize your dreams, be healthy, helpful, hopeful, not doubtful, be safe, be courageous, don’t fear death, it’s just a transition, don’t get rattled, complete your mission, serve yourself, take the road less travelled, look inside for answers but ask others if you must and just be just. Open your mind. Feel the presence of light shines at the right time. Be a child of the universe, be at peace with God, b

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Woke up in shock with the rest of the sane world this morning at the election of Trump. Genevieve in tears. Such a serious set back.  Ugh. But walking the girls to school, some hope: "Girls, did you hear that Hillary lost last night?" Sofia says, "Who won?" "Trump." Long pause... "Well, when I grow up I guess I will become the first woman president." That's our girl. Tears came to my eyes and I high fived her. "Why do you like that so much?" she asked. Because it is optimistic. "What is optimistic mean?" asked Lucia. So I explained the difference between optimism and pessimism. Seemed so apt! After walking them to school I meditated, which helped enormously. And then I danced. A powerful one two combo. My upstairs neighbor asked, "Random question...nt sure if you're home. Im' noticing the floor and windows are shaking. Any ideas why?" "I'm dancing. I can try in baseme

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    typical of the clever halloween decorations in my neighborhood I got a new iPhone 7+. Was excited to have good picture taking capability again, but alas, found out this morning that the Blogger iPhone app no longer exists. I never thought I'd have this problem with Google. I'm assuming it has something to do with Apple/Google proprietary rights. Anyway, lame. Today put on an African mixtape, from Spotify, and headed to the Cemetery. Haven't been there in awhile. I was thinking about the idea of putting dances up on youtube, as a way to document them, so I set up a video camera on a grave and began to dance.  This couple came by and asked what I was listening to. Uh, Snoop Lion, Snoop Dog's reggae self, his song fruit juice.  The man, Jeff, told me about French political rap music he thought I would like (?) called Blockstop. I told him I'd check it out. Then he told me he was in NYC's Labor Chorus and they were having a concert at NYU

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Devendra's last album Mala. Love to dance to a full album, to be in the hands of a good artist. Getting sweaty in the living room while sick Lucia watches Super Why.

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Basement dance delux. Danced sooooo hard to Die Antwoord's brilliant new album, Mount Ninji and Da Nice Time Kid. OMG. Matthew told me the live show wasn't to be missed, so I imagined I was there live. And Matthew's medicine helped with the magic too. Danced so hard I could only get through 5 or 6 songs, but yeesh. Unbelievably forward and raw. Later in the evening, though  it wasn't a dance, per say, maybe, I listened to Devendra Banhart's new album, Ape In Pink Marble as I cleaned dishes and it sent me far. Surrealistic softcore music for the ages. A year of dances, that's butterfly life-span talk. Caught this reflection of my hand, my hand reflecting light from the sun in the basement window into the bathroom, and flashing it in time to the music, while dancing to Die Antwoord, a special, personal, effect. The bathroom photo up close, taken originally by Genevieve. The light reflecting!

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We saw an incredible dance performance in the lobby of MOMA today by the Jerome Bel company. The performance consisted of museum employees leading several other museum employees in different styles of dance. The dances ranged from tango to African to ballet to hip hop to butoh. I teared up during one of the dances, it was so good, so full of joy and the possibilities of art. I danced too, at the back of the crowd, while watching, feeling the moves and the music.   A powerfully passionate Matisse at MOMA I've never noticed before

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More living room dancing. Super hard to Grimes' "Art Angels", a full album worth of dance, completely drenched in sweat by the end of it. Great dance album all around, super interesting beats, with at least 3 songs that took it to the next level.              Sofia's pumpkin is so cute. Lucia's is pretty funny too. A keeper!

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Read article at dentist about how LSD was a big inspiration for the Beatles' Revolver, which in turn was a kind of evolution for pop music itself. And for society itself. So today I followed the music and messages of that album as I danced in the living room. Such an exercise will extend your life and liberty. And also how about these lyrics, partly taken from Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert's manual for taking LSD, "Tibetan Book of The Dead." The lyrics, all by themselves, are a pretty incredible manual and must've been such an awakening for so many people listening to this album in the late 60s, and still. I had a friend who had a bad a trip on acid once, and it would have been great to be able to have him listen to this over and over... Tomorrow Never Knows Turn off your mind, relax and float down stream It is not dying, it is not dying Lay down all thoughts, surrender to the void It is shining, it is shining Yet you may see the meaning o

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Got a Lyft tonight. Told the driver we were heading to Forest Hills to see Van Morrison. He told us he saw Van Morrison with Them in the Village in 1966. Half a century ago! Did they play Gloria I asked? Yes, he said, and then mentioned it was the first song he had learned to play on guitar. (We found out later this guy went on to play guitar with Leslie West from Mountain. We also learned he hadn't been playing for the last year because he lost his job and was in the middle of a divorce. Ooh.) Do you think he'll play Gloria tonight I asked? Nah, I don't think he'll play that really early stuff, he said. I hope so, I said, because it was my late great friend Bill Berkson's favorite song. Turned out Van Morrison played it afterall, for his encore, a wild and surprising 20 minute long version. The crowd sang along at the top of their tired lungs. I imagined (felt?) Bill next to me, singing along too, taking it all in with that charming and mysteri

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For my work out today I danced to the new Nick Cave album, Skeleton Tree. This one is orchestral, slow and lyrically driven, such a good record. I learned afterward from Pitchfork that near the album's completion Nick Cave's twin son fell from a cliff and died. My heart sank. "The song [Jesus Alone] was among the first Cave wrote for the record, yet its opening image—'You fell from the sky, crash-landed in a field near the River Adur'—feels unbearably prescient." God. Glad I didn't know that about this album before I danced to it. It would have been too hard to move. As it was I entered a strange upside down world. The ceiling in the basement is so low I can almost put my elbows on it. So with my eyes shut I put my hands up on the ceiling and pretended like it was the floor, and I the gravity was low enough that I could move around on my hands. It was a self-illusion. About half way through the album I wanted to try something more cardi

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Release of the day in the basement while Gen put the girls to bed, sneaking it in. The soundtrack was the first mixtape from Joel Davis' new joint, Conduit. https://blog.conduitmusic.co/why-conduit-approach-to-music-discovery-is-different-and-better/ Near the end is a remix of CSN+Y's "Back To The Garden." "Got To Get Yourself Back To The Garden." And part of this dance tonight is about shaking off the tension between Genevieve and Lucia (who is a handful) and then this, and suddenly I'm Adam and Gen is Eve (Genevieve) and I'm letting go of knowledge, of thinking, and getting back to the garden. I'm thinking about that Paul Valèry quote, "When you think, you lose the thread." Try to hold onto the thread. "Lose yourself in the music, the moment." Eminem

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Dancing hard to the new Jack White Acoustic Album, high on vibes left over from a brilliant weekend, feeling that bodily confluence with the music like I haven't for awhile. In full shake, rattle and roll, stop, break beat, go go go mode. I did some yoga postures afterward, and as I did I began to hum/om along to the music, in key. Music yoga. In different poses, different registers of voice. Bending down to a low om from the chest, hands raised in the air, go high and sing in the head. Singing up the chakras, singing back up, with Jack White in the lead. I just slipped into these new sonic asanas, like I once slipped into 5/5 time while playing a 3/3 Bach Partita (it was so different that way!) like I slipped recently into a pure effluvium of swirling shapes and colors while meditating, like the substratum of thought itself. No thought at all! The first time I've ever been able to get there, just the endless spin of the elements. Slip in the slipstream to somewhere new alt

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When I blew out my birthday candles this year it seemed sacrilege to wish for anything beyond the moment itself. I just blew. No wishes... Dexter and Nori brought a bottle of Hudson Valley Bourbon, best I've ever had, with a burnt caramel flavor, wood smoke, pass it around, get a magic 8 Ball from KC Trommer, kids go crazy, Lilla brings a peach torte from patisserie, Amy brings a peach pie, Cristina, fancy snacks and socks, Therese a painting of a hummingbird, Catherine a handle of rum, Nonna and Papa delicious boursin cheese, Marco oak aged beer, Quinn guitar strings, picks and a pear, Tyler and Karen, wine and a watermelon: and more I'm forgetting, suffice to say it was superabundance. Just so happens that Flicks & Jazz in the Garden was scheduled on my birthday. Big band jazz plays for an hour. Meanwhile I throw a giant frisbee high so it comes back to me, as if I was playing catch with the sky, while dozens of kids swirl around me trying to catch it t

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 In a day that began at brother's new house on Lookout Mountain in Golden, moved to a disc golf game in Arvada with Jeff and Matthew to Denver for sushi burrito lunch to Boulder for the opera Carmen under Bandshell (!) to see Tom at the Beat Bookstore to sleep Mom's in Loveland. And one stop to see my old friends' band Wonderlic in Skyline park in Denver. They gave me a shout out and the girls too. Sofia wanted to dance, so we gave the crowd a show, both girls in tow. So sweet, twirling the girls around to that rocky mountain beat.

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Incredibly in sync dance with Diandra at Matthew and Monica's house in front of fire place. Hard to believe how synchronized a dance can be, how expressive, how mutually creative. Kept me up too late, but well worth it. An unexpected (and needed) gift from a personal God.

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Dance at Amy's on the way to Bembe.

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https://instagram.com/p/BH5d-ungDf1/ Or  https://www.facebook.com/copingsaw/posts/10153596933138414:0 A little snippet of dance with Lucia in front of Tom Sachs' boombox at Brooklyn Museum today. 

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I was watching the girls in the Splash Pad at the Lakeside LeFrak of Prospect Park, a very large area with sprinklers on the outside and about an inch of water covering the ground on the inside. I was meditating, and waves of ecstasy were washing over me with each breath. There was a large speaker playing music and Abba's dancing queen came on. I got up and went into the center of the Pad with the girls and began to dance. It was great because the inch of water became a dance prop, something to kick and splash with my feet. Then I spun the girls around and we worked on some new moves, splashed in the sun. At one point time slowed down and I watched the water fly from my dancing feet, glittering with diamonds of sunlight, and thinking: this is it! We made it to 4 other playgrounds today, epic, but that was the highlight. Another nice moment was in the Imagination Playground. On the ground in tile were the words "Where sea serpents roam/ I love to whistle!" And to

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After the beautiful day learning Paul Simon songs on the ukulele on the beach, diamonds on the soles of her shoes, jumping off the dock into lake with girls, all smiles, I come home to a doctor's appointment, check out healthy for now, luxuriate in the fact that this is a doctor in the West Village and not Queens. Queens care = queen scare. Afterward dancing on the corner of 23rd and 5th, in the setting sun people streaming all-around. Beck's "WOW, it's all happening now "on auto repeat. Then Blood Orange for the home stretch. Caught 2 lightning bugs for the girls. Subway ad reappropriation. Christian Slater = Christians later. DOD (discovery of the day) That top quote is money And this is my boy 

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Paul Simon's last concert in his home town of Forest Hills. Dancing hard to "Me and Julio" in the rain. Glorious! Gen before show catching up with work friend Diana, who is looking like a madonna.

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Today's dance was short and sweet, just like a Ramones song. We went to see the Ramones show at the Queens Museum. In the back room there was a virtual Ramones concert happening, projected on the wall, loud speakers. The girls and I danced hard. Brilliant. Felt like we were living at the birth of punk.

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The amount of great moments I have in my life is hard to fathom.  Last night at the dads camp out fully immersed in the music around the campfire for instance. I know it is nothing to write home about. Especially with all the famine on the farm. And the Orlando nightclub shooting still fresh blood. But it is no use to live less. Rounds around the campfire of "I want to rock 'n' roll all night and party every day," done some bud {damn autocorrect} Samba style. Change lyrics to: "I want to Rock and roll all night and party every day. But my wife left me and now I'm in AA. I have to call my sponsor, I have to go away. I want to rock 'n' roll all night and party every day." But suffice to say I stayed up all night anyway and got completely lost in, full of, the muse w/ my crews. How to bring that noise to the masses? Them's my assays.  Double pronged business plan 2016: 1. WorldFest, 2. sound and vision series. To get

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Watched joke of itch (damn autocorrect) Djokavic beat Murray in the French Open. Such a savage confidence. So much spirit and grace in the body. Ha ha, I love that mistranslation, "joke of itch."  On the way to the cemetery I saw Justin Marks on the street. We talked about the ins and outs of Helen Vendler. Because I am so immersed in her commentaries on Emily Dickinson right now. Justin told me some great stories about her. I said she was getting heat in the community. I loved Justin's response, "She's got PC issues." Meanwhile Justin's kid Henry complained that we had talked through a full red light cycle as we were standing on the corner. Justin said, "That's one of the great things about living in New York City, Henry, having conversations with people on the street."  Then I put on the P haraohs, a band that happened to be recommended to me by Justin's partner at B irds, Inc , Sampson Starkweather. Interesting coincidence. Tur

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showed up late to Tyler Burba's 40th birthday party at the Parkside Lounge in Lower East Side. He was playing The Beatles' "Run For Your Life", but it was a version so raw ripped and bluesy that I didn't even recognize it was the Beatles. It was like what the Beatles were trying to be! And it got me dancing hard, instantly. And I was the only one. The song ended and Tyler pulled me up on stage to do a couple songs. He handed me an electric guitar, which I'm not used to, and I just rocked out. It was full throated and full throttle, still can't believe I can get there sometimes, and with the crowd on my side. Verdant. I remember improvising the lines, "40 years hath Octember. 40 years the lungs have wrapped the peek hole. 40 daisies on 40 ladies."

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It was perfect weather today so I decided to take advantage and ride my bike across the Queensborough and into the city. I rode up the East Side bike path along the river until I got to 95th and then headed over into Central Park. I stopped to do the old soft shoe to "Mista Dobalina" by Del The Funky Homosapien for awhile in the grass near the sailboat pond. Then I decided that since I was so close to the Met it would be a minor sin not to go see some art. I looked up what was playing. At the Met Breuer was "Unfinished: Thoughts Left Visible," a show of unfinished paintings by the Masters. Totally great. Below are some highlights. This one was poignant. It was the painting Van Gogh was working on when he killed himself. That unfinished blue sky! This painting by Degas reminded me of Caravaggio's "Conversion of St. Paul", one of my favorite paintings. (I cried when I saw it after Genevieve and I stumbled across accidentally in ch