Track of the week: “Roller Coaster” by Bleachers, off this summer’s debut LP Strange Desire.
Track of the week: “Our New Intelligence” by River City Extension - shout out to my buddy Luke for introducing me to the band, who are fellow New Jersey natives (holler!)
Track of the week: “Baby” by Chile’s Alex & Daniel, which fuses a strong melody with slick beats.
Source: SoundCloud / Nacional Records
Great acoustic cover of “Rude” from Colbie Caillat, originally by MAGIC!
Reflections on Andrew Wyeth and the Concept of “Home”
"…Getting to a philosophical understanding of home requires us to rethink our understanding of safety, fragmentation, and transcendence. At the core of one’s understanding of home is the understanding of identity and self-perception. In our concept of home, we “materialize and territorialize” who we are.
Home is a place where we make dynamic and continuous connections between the past and the present, always reevaluating who we are in light of it. [James] Tuiedo writes:
Caught in a chiasmic relation of immanence and transcendence, we are assimilated to a dynamic interplay of familiarity and difference, as if we were weaving together threads of nostalgic security and transformative growth.
Ultimately, we understand home through our creative preservation of it.
-Haley Littleton via Curator Magazine
A wave’s white flag unfurls against the headland.
We’re pleased with summer’s long foreseen surrender:
hot noons betrayed by maples fringing umber,
horny insects dying in the wetlands.
You said how often pleasure reads as loss—
The pale moths of our nights mating in long
grass until their sailcloth bodies fall
apart. That will be the way we gloss
a season, the way I call your legs
laid down together a horizon close to dawn,
or you my beard a tangle of black weeds.
For both of us, the ocean’s tannin dregs
spell out September. But you. I won’t rely on
myths to frame you. Of fame you have no need.
-Alex Miller, Jr.
Do you orient yourself so as to see what’s coming,
or what has just gone by? Do your cows angle
forward in backward pastures; is there spinback
on your trees?
The east-streaking rain on the observation car
window as we careen out of Montana
is telling. We all travel how we must:
facing, not facing.
This is the best of my present
abilities. The five days packing for a four
day trip. Pill by pill,
shirt by possible shirt.
My mind is not what it was,
because it is becoming.
The Columbia opens suddenly to the north
and south, encircling us. I wasn’t wrong
after all, to expect a river on both sides.
Mount Hood’s summit emerges,
a great white fin,
whose body below reorients
the wondering, and the wandering.
Isn’t it good, I say mostly to myself,
that we’ll all arrive together,
no matter where our minds go