finding a voice

last night, with one of my dearest friends in the world, i got to experience the force that is massive attack. i've spent a bit of time writing here about music -- going to shows and having some pretty incredible experiences. music is and always has been my life. i mean really. i collect it, i seek it out, i relish in the feeling of that song or that riff that transports me to some other place, some other memory. i've been listening to the new massive attack album pretty obsessively for the past however many months, starting with the Heliogland EP. the first time i heard 'pray for rain' i got that rush --a transporting, transforming, what-the-hell-am-i-hearing rush. now, i know this isn't their best song, or nearly their best album. i get a lot of 'they were better long ago' opinions. but for me, there's something deep that this album reaches. and, really, i cannot resist hope sandoval. i melt every time i hear her.

last night, the very talented songstress, martina topley-bird, performed with the band, and she was fantastic. they all were. i didn't have many expectations for the show. just an opportunity to get in front of huge sound and lose myself for a while. i got that...and quite a bit more. the stage set up was comprised of a huge backdrop of LED ticker display screens a few inches apart, creating a canvas for words and digital images that cascaded behind the band throughout the show. it was so simple. and so amazingly powerful. every word, every image, politically provocative, triggering, highly charged. snippets of descriptions of torture from gitmo, quotes about freedom followed at the end by a simple question: "What the fuck, Arizona?" In case you didn't know, Massive Attack has something to say.

other images included silhouettes of people migrating, perhaps across borders, perhaps to refugee camps followed by running headlines from the tabloids. stats and facts from around the world -- number of days someone can be detained without cause in a dozen countries (7 days in Ireland, 43 days in the UK, indefinitely in the US). the encore came off huge with a hard hitting version of 'Atlas Air' that began with the creation of a flight departure board listing domestic flights and then extradition flights, morphing into simple red, white and black graphic representations of flags that slowly transformed into a barrage of corporate logos rotating faster and faster until they all just blurred together. there was no question of the message: our priorities are fucked. our world is too. do something about it, for fuck sake.

say what you will about art and politics. last night inspired me, got me fired up, reminded me of why i live my life the way i do. i believe in art. i believe in its power to transform the way we think and feel and see and hear. music has been doing this for me my whole life. so has art. i've been working with the flaming lotus girls for about a year now, building huge, interactive, metal fire art. right now, i'm spending nearly 30 hours a week building a huge piece of art with a community of people who have vision and passion and brilliant ideas and who also believe that we can change something with what we do (http://www.temple2010.org). it may not be everything, but it is always something.

we've all got the opportunity to make something in the world. and despite how definitely dismal it all is, we are not the first to experience a moment in time that feels desolate and depressing and devoid of any hope for change. we are also not the first to find our voice and say something about how and what needs to change. and we are certainly not the first to try to inspire change in whatever way it's possible. i'll keep making art and teaching people how amazingly capable they are of doing the same, just as people have taught me. i hope you will, too.

(Image above via Flick user Umbar)

(Video below from YouTube User Fourad)

Tell me what you have and that's when I'll know if you have anything to start with...

once in a blue moon, you get to a show just early enough to catch the opening band, and you fall in love. you've probably never heard of them. maybe they're local. maybe they're not. but something about the newness of the sound, the way it catches your ear and pulls you through, it sticks. and it leaves you wanting more.

this is my memory of mates of state. years ago, at slim's one night, we were introduced to their discordant, sing-at-the-top-of-your-lungs harmonizing. it didn't hurt that, together, they're two pretty hot individuals. that week, i found a song i loved and put in on a mix. (don't ask me the name. such things have fallen out of my head). i've been singing at the top of my lungs to their complicated, beautiful melodies ever since. perhaps our collective memory can recall some details from the past--who we were there to see in the first place, who was actually with us and what the hell the name of that song is...

tonight, emalie and i made it to the independent to catch the first of two nights they'll be playing. we made it just in time to catch one of the two opening bands, black kids. can't say i fell in love in quite the romantic way i remember swooning over MoS, but they were pretty damn great. big sound, great set, jump around and have fun with lotsa instruments kinda music. after the set, some guy standing next to me asked if I'd come to see Mates of State. yeah, i said. well, what kind of music do they play. hmm, i said. well. it's kind of hard to describe. see, there's this couple, and she plays the keyboard and he plays the drums and they do this amazing harmony thing that's sometimes really discordant and strange but its beautiful and... you're gonna tell me the whole story aren't you, he asked. yeah. yeah i am. i guess i can't do it any other way. welcome to being me:)

two or three songs into MoS's set, i thought to myself, THIS, this is why I: a) love the city I live in and b) love that i'm alive and get to experience such things as the show that's happening in front of me. just as i was waxing nostalgic for the days of slim's and beer and dolores park on a friday so long ago, they yell out to a girl in the crowd and bring her up on stage to dance with them for their next number. "we met her outside, and she's awesome," they said. suddenly, there's some other guy on stage, and as the girl moves to the far left, he leans into the mic and, in only the way that can happen in my romantic, school-girl crush vision of this band, he proposes to this girl. "this city is so cliche," he begins. "i knew from the moment i met you..." and thrusts the box with ring in to the air. the crowd, all crushed out, just like me, goes totally wild. she, thankfully, says yes, though is rather baffled and dazed by the whole shebang. they kiss, jump into each other's arms and the band bursts into one of its hot, hot dancy numbers.

now, i'm not here to tell you MoS is the BEST band EVAH. i am here to tell you, though, that what they do is pretty damn great. they're good. talented, creative, energetic, unique and passionate. they sing about calling people on their bullshit, lying to the ones you love, doing it all over again, and making up in the end, after all. they hold a pretty special place in my heart and, every time i see them on stage, i think about the rush of love at first sight.

dear mates of state, thanks for coming back to the bay that was once your home.

infectiously brilliant

Tom's latest creation: The New Fish Car

This morning i learned that a brilliant man lost his life at ocean beach yesterday. Tom Kennedy, art car genious, artist extraodinaire, inspirer of light and bringer of love was pulled down by the riptide yesterday afternoon. throughout the day today, nearly 70 people have weighed in on their memories of tom, the sadness of the loss, and the utter joy he inspired in their lives. you can read them all here at laughingsquid.com. a tragic loss but what a measure of a lived well lived. 

I met tom just a month ago out at the box shop. bright eyed, i started going out the shop *finally* after many years of wanting to work with metal. running around the yard, i met haideen (his wife) and tom one sunday afternoon. haideen was in the process of making a gorgeous orange hippo for one cute lil’ 2 yr old lulu, and tom was busy at work on one of his many gorgeous bells. the bell he’d transported to the shop that day was tall and lizard green and stood about 6 feet. the bell itself is encircled by a heart of spiraled metal. the intricacy, the detail, and, oh, that sound! the gorgeous, deep, resonating sound that that bell made. he said he’d made one like it for his folks and that he and haideen were planning to box this one up and send it off to her folks. i was fascinated by the work–and by the joy and light that emanated from both tom and haideen. 

last weekend, at a long FLG work day of packing up mutopia, i saw tom again. this time, while standing over the bbq table, i asked him about the bells. he told me all about the process, from beginning to end with all the steps in between–the practice, the experimentation, the evolution. he spoke with such relish, such excitement, such passion about the discovery. i told him about the project i’ve been mulling over–my first attempt at metal sculpture. in those 10 minutes we shared over pork sammiches, i got it–everything that everyone has written about him today on that post. my friend, mimi, has this great phrase she uses when she talks about people with such tremendous creative joy like Tom: infectiously brilliant. 

Though my glimpse of him was so very brief, it will always be remembered as one of those great moments in life when you know: Yes! Of course! It’s all possible. All of it. Thank you for being infectiously brilliant, Tom. You will be missed.