Sunday, January 31, 2016


While the girls are playing Nail Salon I go for a dance in the cemetery.


Jacket hanger

Found sculpture 

Skull cloud!

Saturday, January 30, 2016


Listened to the very first Missy Elliott album, thank you Spotify, and was totally transported in dance to a place very few people have felt, where the beats and sounds are carrying you and you touch the pure synergy, the singularity. hallelujah! 

My idea is to film a TED talk kind of dance next week. With Misdemeanor and Timbaland riding shotgun. 

Meanwhile Sofia sick 102.8. So painful. I danced as if pushing the sick through.


This morning I didn't have my phone on and didn't hear the call from school saying Sofia was sick and I needed to get her, so Genevieve had to leave work and come get her. She was livid. Then when she walked in the house I was watching Chelsea Handler documentary and eating chips with cheese dip in the easy chair, crumbs on my shirt. She was disgusted. I felt low. Depressed. So I turned to the big gun, Missy Elliot, "under construction," and danced it through my system. And it worked!

Saturday, January 23, 2016


First of all that last photo in 326, of Mick Jagger, next to music hat and hard hat, shiva dancing on the guitar. I showed it to Keriba, my "farseeing" friend and she said a hat contains thoughts, thoughts contain the brain, so switch hats. Time to don the hard hat! The cat hard hat. I can do that. Rat a tat tat. That's my new do.

Then dancing to King Sunny Ade, in the basement, suddenly I am dancing with Africa and then the women of Africa, the woman of Africa, the Woman, then Amma, and she's dancing up a storm, and we are lockstep and laughing, she's really got me now, she's got me so I can't sleep at night.

She's the king, I'm Scheherazade.

Friday, January 22, 2016


Basement jam to an incredible set by La zampa DJ, Electroswing Mixtape the Autumn Session on Spotify. Songs that mean something to me in the mix, Put The Blame On Mame, King Of The Jungle from Jungle Book, Thriller, all wrapped up so tight.

And I was a long distance dancer. A heavy sprint. And after a day of such brilliance with Sofia, our "-Dang its- are for fools" day. Where we turned all our "Dang it!"s into beautiful moments, and ended up rerouting to the New York Fire Museum.

So tonight was icing, a coup de gras, a capper.


Downstairs and this is the timeless tableau. 

Rocking out to the comeback album, the "RILL" thing. Very strange but affecting album, where Little Richard matures and feels his way into the 70s. He covers the Beatles "saw her standing there," and when he imitates the Beatles imitating his "whooooo" it made me laugh out loud. The 10 minute long burner, from which 
the album gets its name, is a real find. 

Thursday, January 21, 2016


Good golly miss Molly. 

Upstairs, socks on hardwood, afire with the true king

Tuesday, January 19, 2016


In FaceBook post today Jim Behrle memorializes Glenn Fry passing by posting...

...which is funny, and weirdly apt. But most importantly, it directed me back to listen to Mojo Nixon again. For an hour long dance. Great dance music, full of voodoo and spitfire humor. Lo-fi genius, layers of irony, perfect guest for a future WTF. And, ultimately, too drunk to stand. But at the end my ya yas were all out and my ass on fire.

Sheherzad disco with/against The King

Monday, January 18, 2016


Left with Gen and the girls to go to the "secret garden" (cemetery) with a planned stopover at The Globe to see Jaime (from Liverpool) and his band do their British Invasion thing. There was a fire in the fireplace, and several faces from the neighborhood. It was warm and wonderful. We just stayed for a song, but it was David Bowie's "Heroes", which was perfect. I felt inspired by Bowie yet again, in the most communal of ways. "We can be heroes, if just for one day." Bowie was a real hero, for one long life of a day. And so are we. Always amazed at the way great spirits light up the sky when they die. 

The girls turned around after that because it was so cold, but I went on to the cemetery and though it took awhile for my old bones to warm up, I was, once again, for the moment, victorious against cold and death and dying. 

I did a "4 square" dance, which I invented today, a variation on a theme, where I use the 4 corners of a cross section of concrete to guide the steps of the dance. Super fun. I was listening to WFMU (woof moo), local radio, thanks to Quinn O'Sullivan's recommendation, and the DJ, Scott Williams, was incredible. Here's a link for the show.

More local love. 

And some beautiful shots to boot.

bitter cold

Wednesday, January 13, 2016


The basement dances are getting better. Today dozens of new moves emerged from the music. I felt like a descendant of Charlie Chaplin and Fred Astaire, dub-step style. And meanwhile falling in love with Thomas Mapfumo.

What a perfect little dance floor.

The dance between the idea and the body is the new meditation.

Tuesday, January 12, 2016


I met David Ellenbogen, who produces NYC Radio Live, after my release reading at Berl's bookstore in DUMBO. Later I listened in to his podcast. A super informative interview with and about Mapfumo; a shining example of art positively affecting the curve of culture. That lead me to dancing to Thomas Mapfumo in the basement, a good one, deeply immersed, creative. As I was dancing I kept fantasizing that it would be great to have a monthly (eventually weekly) dance party in Central Park on Sunday mornings with David curating live music or DJing. 9am. A good sublimation for church. Let it be.


Bowie died so I danced to his new album, released just a few days ago for his 69th birthday. Blackstar. A very weird album musically, but it was good to dance to. It was a trip, tripping with and over Bowie, disembodied. A perfect way to mourn him. He gave us a soundtrack for further contemplation. And the song Dollar Days is great Bowie at any stage.

Afterwards, inspired, I decided to use his song Sound And Vision for
the theme song for a new venture.  More on that later.

Sunday, January 10, 2016


Loving the basement dance, perfect slidey floor, room to move. In control and wild at once tonight. It was another nth moment. Dreamed up dance therapy. Huge book on the subject. And dance parties to live music Sunday mornings in Central Park.


Crossfit with Quah did not fit. Jorma great, thighs shreeeeeeed.   ( Coletti influence. He gave me his book at release party for wherewithal last night. Yeesh! Boy's got aura.) still counting it.

Friday, January 8, 2016


Yesterday kept pace with William Onyeabor in my basement. So glad his songs on their way through time and space to me. Then today off to the cemetery for the first time in months. Listening to the remixes of William Onyeabor today. And it was absolute victory.

Bio of Onyeabor

Wednesday, January 6, 2016


Down to the Y, why, listening to Missy Elliott, workout and then back up to the library. Buy three hots and a pair of gloves on the way, listen to my live gig at Otto's, amazing in retrospect. 

Tuesday, January 5, 2016


Basement dance, moved and disgusted by Lil Wayne. Nokay, Chris Martin (the poet) not today. Still uncooked.

Switched to D'angelo which was the way into a White Stripes freak out and I'm back.

Then came upstairs and made dinner.


Stealth hippo got off their prog and got funky after wherewithal reading. Stellar dance with Diandra, and then pushing through everywhere. 

Friday, January 1, 2016


Ringing in 2016 with Devotchka at bluebird danced til I was cramped up so bad I had to lean on my brother he said breath into it, and put your mind elsewhere, reverse that, and it worked! Oxygen into muscles. Mind control. But the dance atop the toms while nick urata crooned we bobbed and swooned. Goodbye never to be had again 2015! Whatever you may mean. (I had fun.)