play as you wish, do as you will

good morning ~

(click the link / moon pic to listen)

My Big Breakplay as you wish, do as you will

This track is made almost entirely of a single recording of guitar feedback that I then resampled

I want to dedicate this plug space to the artist Justin Eugene Levesque who so graciously gave me a sick ass tattoo when I was in Maine recently. Check out his website (and if you’re in the Portland area, book a stick and poke!)

I heard that venue in Cambridge sometimes does three shows a night, which I think is definitely a bit of a red flag for an out-of-town show. You kinda want your show to be the sole focus for the evening, you don't want to be relegated We weren't even going to load in until 10pm, so I knew it was gonna be a late one. But I also heard that everyone loves the place so I went in with an open heart, happily bopping along next to the snacks in the back seat of the RAV-4. And I was pleasantly surprised that, one, a good amount of people came out for an ambient music show on a Friday night that didn't start in earnest until 10:45pm. And then two, the venue was really professional and concise, they had all their rules and methods dialed in and the two people running sound and bar communicated really clearly and with good energy. Plus they had a custom loose leaf tea blend available at the bar, so I spent all night getting pour after pour on my same bag of lemon ginger, which had a mysteriously soupy taste to it but was delightful. I played with one toe in the shadow zone of sleep.

The next day really just felt like heaven smiling, a bright, shining day that was summer-warm, just a hint of sweet autumn leaf decay on the breeze. The drive to Maine was sublime, easy, full of color. And everything we saw in Portland was cute, a little coffee shop in a shipping container selling the tiniest gold jewelry, an extremely good americano. Then the place we were playing was more well-designed and welcoming than I could have ever imagined, just the right balance of austere concrete and warm wood, a monastic quietude punctured by the rubber squelch of flip flops on wet feet, a palpable feeling of overall wellness. We were welcomed in, made to feel luxurious, given a large table with a mixer and very little requirement. Play as you wish, do as you will. Recently steamed people draped their legs over the arms of chairs and couches, reading from an impressively intellectual bookshelf, their limbs a little longer from having un-tensed in the baths. John started us off and I nestled into the outdoor jacuzzi, letting the last strong sun of the year kiss me all over as I listened.

I played in my swimsuit and felt utterly calm. I usually think of a flow state as something kind of ecstatic, at least the times when I've experienced that freedom-from-thought have most often come from an energetic push, an exertion, a mania - dancing until 9am, playing guitar until I bleed and/or break something, running a 5k, etc. But the feeling in my body and in my brain as I looped my voice and twisted knobs in the sauna felt eternal. I was almost surprised when John joined me behind the table, an indication that an entire hour had already gone by. We played together in a slow exchange, me sending him sounds and him sending them out again, felt as if we were tossing a balloon back and forth, most of the activity witnessing the thing rising and falling. Another hour ticked by, the angle of the sun visibly changing over the course of our sets. The cafe served up some of the best dal I've ever had in my entire life, I bathed and cold plunged and sat in the hot, sweet room for a few more rounds.

That night we stayed in the apartment above the baths and really savored some Szechuan takeout. We could hear the sounds of the bathers out the window, splashes down below. No door between the bedroom and the living room, so we played another impromptu set as we fell asleep quite early that night - two iPhones both playing different recordings of brown noise, really sweet music.

When I posted the flyer for the sauna show, a now new buddy DM'd me and offered to give me a tattoo, so in the morning I snuck out early and took a long, meandering walk through Portland, wondering if I would recognize anything. I visited the city and played there a few times in my 20s, but it had been at least a decade. Development has really transformed the place - it felt like a city I had never seen before.

And soon enough I was walking through an over-the-top garden at the end of a cul de sac on my way to a basement studio. Such intimacy - there are probably tattoo artists that I've had more skin contact with than people I've dated. Plus, I mean, they are literally penetrating you, changing your body permanently. But Justin rocks and we had a great time chatting while he applied his frankly incredible gradient stick-and-poke technique to the blue squiggle now affixed to my upper left arm. A few hours in the chair, plus he drove me back to the sauna, what a mensch. Touched, still, by this very kind offering of plied ink.

We ate our mapo tofu leftovers on the beach and laughed at how gorgeous the weekend turned out to be, too warm for a jacket. I listened to the rocks caught in the retreating surf clack against each other, sizzling.

FUCK! OH FUCK! Lea and I both yelling at the crest of a hill just outside North Adams, the moon ridiculously luminous at civil twilight, pinks and purples streaming in the sky. John thought he was going to hit something but we just all wanted to stand in the dirt between under-construction houses and gaze at this creature in the sky. Later, in the gallery, swimming in images of piano keys on fire beamed from a projector, I sang. A warmth enveloped me. Was it the heat from the bulb? Was it the breath of the people listening? Or could I actually feel the blaze on my skin?

But what about you? Are you entering into spaces with an open heart? Have you really loosened up recently? What are you stopping the car to take pictures of?