1001 Disco Days

Culling from Joel's show yesterday I tuned into ZZK sounds volume one and two on Spotify. Psychedelic call me. Cumbia. Kind of a cool lag beat thing that caused me to do slow-motion breaks. I skirted the graveyard and ended up with some great shots. So, Walt, not as free as in the graveyard, but with many sites to see in South Woodside. An adventure. Like a boss Out of the blue in queens. A billboard bent in half. Also out of the blue in urbn Queens a field of wild flowers. The things you can find! I love this shot. A biz that has been sitting here next to Queens cemetery since 1883. A little Mexican cafe I passed in Woodside. Love what they did with this window. A Mexican pop art stained glass window. f Ha, Superman lazyboy put out with the garbage.. I know the feeling.

Woke up mad, which is really sad, as I was sad. Also sad to be mad. Mad to be mad. Last night needing some love, I thought. Instead a litany of upset came my way. I didn't just not get what I thought I needed. I got the opposite of what I thought I needed. All I thought I needed was to be touched. Woke up though this morning with the intention to have a great dance, despite the sadness, especially after yesterday's ho hum dance. Took a breath of the magic macha chacha, then headed out to dance. I found my friend Joel Davis' TerraSonic show on iTunes. One song into the mix and I was dancing; to transform and understand that you have gone into the music! I remembered then that I didn't need to be touched to be valid. What does valid mean anyway? I need nothing else but the air of the sun and the music and the grass. What "I thought I needed" turns out I don't. I was full and even felt some compassion for my other, who is understandably frustrated....

Difficult start this morning, probably because I was up so late last night, writing, looking for work. This morning started with Disclosure on Spotify, a recommendation of NPR. I used to be cool, but now I get my recommendations from NPR! The music was okay but I don't much care for the modern Beats. I mean the click track sound. Got about halfway through the album and switched to the new Daft Punk, but the same problem. A little bit of a dance this morning but hardly qualifies really. Mostly qualifies because of the effort made. Because I know that effort to continue will bring the right dance tomorrow. LAWLESS (the dance remix) DISCO ANGEL I often notice this graffiti as I dance. Russian? 

This morning rode my bike around Central Park. Discovered you can go nonstop all the way around. Also discovered the new Vampire Weekend. I danced on my bike and soaked in the poignant lyrics and scenery. What a morning. It smells heavenly in the park, like swathes of plumeria. This structure caught my imagination. Not sure how to get to it, but looks cool. This guy about got me. I felt like these buildings were flipping me the bird, affectionately, NY style

Amadou and Mariam at Prospect Park. Bombino opened. Danced hard and marvelled. Sean Ferry and Ed Gilligan met up with us. Then met up with Yvette and Alex afterward. But mainly Amadou and Mariam!!! Aura! Voodoo, live love. The perfect synergy of blind coupling.

Woke up ready to dance, more or less. But my dance was a bit lackluster. There were some moments of grace no doubt. Got some good pictures at least. Heard some good music from Yemen. The band Yemen blues stands out. I found it on in TuneIn Radio, a podcast called new sounds by John Schaeffer. Lately I have been struggling with lack of purpose. I knew this would happen when I left Colorado, but here it is. So now the morning dancer is extra important to help carry me through the day. I have been thinking that the purpose now is dedicated to a few, namely my daughters. Rather than all of humanity. Or all humanity through them. Or no, just them. It seems like I have less and less to offer the world. I can't even figure out how to braid hair. The simplest tasks elude me.

Felt weird about coming to the cemetery this morning, slightly depressed, this is a theme. Not sure what inhibits the feeling of good, but what releases it is muggles, the highest grade, grown by my brother, and music. I began the dance with no music, trying to create the music in my head that I was dancing to. This is something I learned from my friend Julia Temple Buononna. One day after dancing with her she told me she was going to show me how to dance without music. She never did show me and I've been trying to do it ever since. I can get a little of the way there, but doesn't get me near as far as the right music. Dancing in public in New York and that constant back-and-forth from self-consciousness to supra-consciousness: one with the music. And I realize the cemetery is safe, I am playing it safe. Ironically I am less afraid in the graveyard than out of it. Staving off the violence. Dream about rushing my daughter to the hospital. I shouldn't be afraid to dan...

Shaggy w/ Mr. Vegas at free show in Bed-Stuy at Herbert Von King Park. Booty shakin heaven! Only fair skinned fellow amid a sea of undulating black and tan beauties going at it even harder than me. My people! (I must be an albino.) What a perfect way to celebrate my 65th dance. Before the show comes to a close I get a call from Jamaica and Irie, my nieces (perfectly named for this very show), who are supposed to be on their way to meet me from Manhattan. They are scared and lost and Genevieve wants me to come help, so I begin the descent back Down into the serious and safe. But so thankful for this moment. I'll never forget Mr. Vegas leading the whole crowd in a soulful rendition of three little birds. During the show I get a text from Brian: "During our darshan, Kaden stopped after she let us go and asked Amma a question. He stood by himself right in front of her. He looked at her and said, 'Amma, can you visit God?' She giggled, tickled his nose and said,...

After beautiful last official night at the D Note, replete with a musical called Grand Central Station that ended with a chorus singing New York New York in nineteen twenties fashion (just for me, from the universe) went to Tellers in Lakewood to see Moses Walker and Joseph Barton play the perfect simple blues, and danced with Amanda Ray, Jen karnisky, Kevin McCormick, and Matthew DeGraff. Below Ryan Chrys plays a solo set after Grand Central and sends me off with kind words that bring tears to my eyes. Thanks Ryan. B

Like some modern day Virgil, Took Dante to see They Might Be Giants at the Ogden theater. Started to dance just to get over the cake standing. Then had a red bull and started working up a sweat. That impulse turned into this, number 63. But mainly it was me at 44 taking me at 17 to a concert. I was listening to this band when I was 17. Like Book ends.

Estes park religious Paul Simon's Surprise The kind of dance you want to always have, always trying. Today my report is like a gun. A gun is a fancy word for a poem Turning into a flower. Bolaño told me so. Finish the dance with Maya.