grace cathedral hill: are you feeling better now

[grace cathedral. san francisco]



[acrylic on wood by bruce docker. ]

many years ago, at least relatively so in my current lifetime, a kindred spirit in the world of art and music, an at times murky, almost always sidelined world, shared a song by the decemberists.

while explanations made now for then are usually imagined and hardly ever true, i suppose i was then too sprightly and energetic with my tastes in indie. used to quick turns and complex riffs, i couldnt settle down long enough to let the melody seep in, or put word and word together to uncover picturesque dreams and morphous meanings.

in other words, i didnt stand still enough for this song; anything that didnt leap out at me was forgotten, or worse, never seen or heard.

one must love the speedy informational transactions of the internet then. for it was on its radio that i heard it again. this time, a curious thing: the very first strains dug deep. spiritual-physicists would make some comment on resonating frequencies or something.. but yes. the strains seemed the tumult in my sluggish self, and the timbre the low echo my dragging feet made. the quiet observing voice was the corner i wanted to retreat into, and let the world's going ons, made artful through a steadied frame, be my muse and my preacher.



grace cathedral hill,
all wrapped in bones of
setting sun,
all dust and stone and moribund.
i paid twenty five cents
to light a little white candle
for a new year's day

i sat and watched it burn away
then turned and weaveed through slow decay
we were both a little hungry
so we went to get a hotdog

down the hyde st. pier
the light was slight and disappeared
the air, it stunk of fish and beer

we heard a superman trumpet play the
national trumpet
and the world be
long for you
but it'll never belong to you

but on a motorbike,
when all the city lights
blind your eyes tonight
are you feeling better now?
are you feeling better now
are you feeling better now.

someway to greet the year
your eyes all bright and brimmed with tears
the pilgrims, pills and tourists here all sing
fifty three bucks to buy a brand new halo

sweet on a green eyed girl
all fiery irish, clip and curl
all brine and piss and vinegar
i paid a twenty cents to
light a little white candle

and the world may be long for you
but the world

but-



the images were lightly intoxicating.

but. away from internalities, to a place we can walk and feel concrete on foot: what is the place that this song revolves around? what is the space that the song, in its melodies and silences, seem to echo?

more-stalgia.

[this is a special post. it is also a rebellious post, because i'd conjured this blog as a pedantic project to understand and explore beyond the initial image (which is sposed to be nicely framed header). the initial image here is only in my head. try to imagine with me.]

- exploring nostalgia -

RC: What are some artefacts or aspects of your childhood days that you feel nostalgic for and why? (it could be some food that you used to eat as a child but no longer do, games, personal items...)

bring proper playgrounds back!!! i want real swings that actually can swing; i want high tall metal slides. i want scary see-saws that do not have the pathetic small axis of pivot that today's short springy stump pass off as see-saws. i want sand.

playgrounds built after 2000 (?) are pathetic. the plastic sponge mat they use stink in the heat. its painful to fall on. the sets are creepy cupcake versions: small, and completely unfun, totally unthrilling.

when i was younger, i'd visit the old-school playground at my aunts place. it (still) has an amazing network of monkey-bar-things. i could actually admire my cousin who'd negotiate it, and wonder about the day when i'd be big(ger) and brave(r) to monkey my way up so high. when he banged his head against a bar, the entire structure 'khlonngged'. it also had two slides - the taller was properly seven metres up; if your shorts slide up, youd have butt burn sliding down. it had two swings, on monster chains that my 20year old cousin could sit on without me fearing it would break. i'd scream at my cousin cos he'd see-saw me too high, too rough.

my own neighbourhood playground had a huge chain bridge, which i'd fallen off while clambering along the outside. my tailbone hurt like shite, but ive yet to hear stories of people who'd died while on those playgrounds. it was torn down during some en-bloc upgrading thing.

even better, i actually sweated and panted playing all those things. seriously, today's playgrounds are more coloured up, but are reduced to a third of the size, and even less of the fun. everything's scaled down, sanitised, and made 'more manageable'. they're like some little artist's daydream of multi-coloured la la land, who'd forgotten that kids like, and need, proper play, not prissy play. growing bones, you know?



i also liked those pigs-in-a-basket biscuits. they used to be only 40 cents each. and found everywhere.


[ . from http://eatzybitzy.blogspot.com ]
.. except, those are the more fancily packaged ones. they actually look like this:


[ zhu zai bing. from lemonshortbread ]

underdogs.

[ . from Consortium of Pub-going, Loose and Forward Women]

the group moniker is highly clever. i could already imagine the trouble my friends would have if i joined it. what hypocrisy, claiming to be a pub-goer. but i thought the pink chaddi (basically, underpants) was a brilliant fling in the face(s) of the sri ram sena.

plus, enemy credentials cant be too disputable for lack of fulfilling one adjective. if one is loose and forward, then she (men, you understand this only applies to the fairer and weaker sex) most probably visits pubs, the bastions of dank sinfulness. the converse is more true, for 'to do' or 'participate' is stronger than merely 'to think' or 'be so'. if one is found in a pub, whether or not that place actually meets the criteria for being a propah pub, then she is most definitely very loose and so forward she'll without a doubt fall flat on her face sometime later in life (bringing down the entire name of her family and forebears) unless we rein her in and slap her down.

hitting nightspots, wearing flatteringly clothes (ironic how the tighter your attire, the looser you're sposed to be) and speaking a lil too loud, too much is probably a triple heart attack to a real sri ram-er. i imagine they'd be ready to raze g-strings off if they see such 'happening, loose and forward' women on a mass scale, in stranger permutations. i'd like an interview with one of them. i'd like to fly one of them over. or fly with them to hollywood-la-la-land (where i spose most degrading cultures originate). of course, to get on his (could there be 'hers' in the sri ram sena?) good side, i'd be wearing my best loosest sari (to show how uptight i am).

Pramod Mutalik, the SRS leader, said at the time that his followers were “custodians of Indian culture” who had prevented the women at the pub from going astray. He has vowed to force unmarried couples found together on Valentine’s Day to either get married or to tie rakhis – string bracelets – on their wrists signifying that they are brother and sister.

Other officials have voiced support for the idea that is “unIndian” for women to visit pubs – or even to hold hands with men in public. “We definitely condemn the incident where women were attacked but the pub culture must stop,” Anbumani Ramadoss, the Health Minister, said last month.

back to the pants. i wonder how many piles of these pink chaddis have winged (eheh, wing) their way to Pramod Muthalik. Does he seethe in anger at the pink hordes? And given that he finds it distasteful and very "unindian" for (indian?) women to traipse around town, would he be turned on or off by the sight of so many female intimates?

Also, does he have facebook? His PR assistant should hook him up, and have him read the wall posts in the group. This would allow him a better view of the challenges he faces in reel in loose women and unmarried couples on valentines day, even if only in Karnataka.

Sidenote. If Paris Hilton turned Indian, can you imagine how many millions the global (because you know, one individual here does affect the economy there) economy would lose if she weren't allowed to booze and shop her way through many nights and days. "It's really scary about the economy right now. So the way I'm playing my part in helping is doing a lot of shopping wherever I go."

perfect valentine.

[ . from homesweethomewrecker ]

now. throw in some sexy, and that's the perfect valentine day after day, year after year.

for the manlier gender, of course.

eclipsed.

[philipines. manila bay. from the telegraph ]

a partial solar eclipse gave a setting crescent on 30th january.

that's a red anyone can respect.