Thursday, July 24, 2014
At 2 am the baby woke up screaming while pointing to the corner of the bedroom.
We were in a cabin in the Smoky Mountains for a week and it rained the entire time. Driving to the cabin required meandering through miles of fog along curvy roads climbing upwards. The cabin, surrounded by trees, was very quiet and well hidden from the windy road leading up to it.
Bedtime was easy in part to the relaxing sound of rain hitting the roof.
At 2:10 Mr Baby fell back asleep. A few minutes later he was up again screaming while pointing to the corner. I held him, hummed a lullabye and he went back to nighty-night in no time..
My eye drifted to the small white box mounted in the corner by the bedroom entrance while covering Mr Baby up with his blanket
The motion sensor light flicked on from red to green, indicating movement. The doorway was empty as was the corner. There were no sounds save for the rain patter on the roof. The nitelite 's reach from the adjoining room was laughable.
Baby started to cry and crawled back over to me. I held baby and watched the light as it slowly changed back to red.
This happened two more times, too coincidental for me anyhow, and Mr Baby was more frightened than before
Exhausted, and brimmin with piss and vinegar I walked over to the emptiness in the corner, squared up and whispered "fuck you, chickenshit. I'm waiting"
The lights didnt change again, and Mr Baby slept peacefully til morning.
The next day was check out. While packing up I noticed it had finally stopped raining and heard a steady tap-tap-tapping of a woodpecker just outside the window.
As we drove off I looked in my rearview and noted there were no trees outside the bedroom window.
Thursday, July 10, 2014
My fancy assed intro
So it appears as if I've joined the new millennium as it were and started a blog, or as i call it, " one of those goddamn pages filled with 33 interesting things you can make with tin foil, brillo pad, and a glass pipe"
No worries however, because I will write about what interests me, and I like cool shit. I also take photos because, art. Bad puns are my friend and I appreciate gallows humor. I live in St Louis, which is hilarious in itself , and I have a hot red headed viking shield-maiden wife who has quite the jab.
Penguins make me laugh, but they also make me think..
(This is called a transition)
Carlo Gesualdo, 1560-1630, was a late Renaissance composer known for his wildly chromatic and experimental music. He also was a murderer.
He also was the first Italian recorded to visit Antarctica in the infamous Venetian-Florentine joint expedition of 1606 to that continent.
An interesting note long overlooked: Gesualdo was the first to successfully bring back several penguins to his hometown; he housed them in the cloister of San Pesce where records indicate they quickly adapted to the amenities such as a large pool, fresh water fish, plentiful viol da gambas and gelatto.
Gesualdo listed a few of his birds' names in his diary, (translated from Italian): Silvestre, Tuitinius, Markus, Didius, Johannes, Iosef, Quintus, Sextus, Septimus, & Octavian.
It is a matter of conjecture but several authorities of late Renaissance madrigal singing have claimed Gesualdo's chromatic stylings are the result of his long hours listening to penguins in conversation.
CASE IN POINT:
The following song was written just after Gesualdo's penguins arrived, and their presence unleashed a wellspring of inspiration from the artist..
Intricate passages, ebbing and flowing, rising and falling in an emotional crescendo; they breathtakingly dive into the depths, much line our white and black friends do from an icy ledge into the deep blue unknown...they speak to the soul of one's loneliness, of yearning for salvation, or for fresh cod or halibut...dissonant counter points lend a otherworldliness and gravitas to the piece seldom experienced in music from this period.
It was said the penguins gathered nightly in the cloister and sang their songs to the moon; at first their songs were mournful, perhaps mistaking the moon a large leopard seal looking down from above. Later the penguins songs grew more bold, as if paying homage to the giant snow ball in the night sky...... Gesualdo captured their essence.
Please please enjoy the following piece of music, bask in its divine glory; take in the delicate interweaving of the voices and meditate on such mysteries of life.
http://youtu.be/i3JwLnK6Efw
No worries however, because I will write about what interests me, and I like cool shit. I also take photos because, art. Bad puns are my friend and I appreciate gallows humor. I live in St Louis, which is hilarious in itself , and I have a hot red headed viking shield-maiden wife who has quite the jab.
Penguins make me laugh, but they also make me think..
(This is called a transition)
Carlo Gesualdo, 1560-1630, was a late Renaissance composer known for his wildly chromatic and experimental music. He also was a murderer.
He also was the first Italian recorded to visit Antarctica in the infamous Venetian-Florentine joint expedition of 1606 to that continent.
An interesting note long overlooked: Gesualdo was the first to successfully bring back several penguins to his hometown; he housed them in the cloister of San Pesce where records indicate they quickly adapted to the amenities such as a large pool, fresh water fish, plentiful viol da gambas and gelatto.
Gesualdo listed a few of his birds' names in his diary, (translated from Italian): Silvestre, Tuitinius, Markus, Didius, Johannes, Iosef, Quintus, Sextus, Septimus, & Octavian.
It is a matter of conjecture but several authorities of late Renaissance madrigal singing have claimed Gesualdo's chromatic stylings are the result of his long hours listening to penguins in conversation.
CASE IN POINT:
The following song was written just after Gesualdo's penguins arrived, and their presence unleashed a wellspring of inspiration from the artist..
Intricate passages, ebbing and flowing, rising and falling in an emotional crescendo; they breathtakingly dive into the depths, much line our white and black friends do from an icy ledge into the deep blue unknown...they speak to the soul of one's loneliness, of yearning for salvation, or for fresh cod or halibut...dissonant counter points lend a otherworldliness and gravitas to the piece seldom experienced in music from this period.
It was said the penguins gathered nightly in the cloister and sang their songs to the moon; at first their songs were mournful, perhaps mistaking the moon a large leopard seal looking down from above. Later the penguins songs grew more bold, as if paying homage to the giant snow ball in the night sky...... Gesualdo captured their essence.
Please please enjoy the following piece of music, bask in its divine glory; take in the delicate interweaving of the voices and meditate on such mysteries of life.
http://youtu.be/i3JwLnK6Efw
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