I did go to the CD release party. I missed the opening band who the posters informed me was called “Disguised by Birds” and Jason informed me that I would have liked. The second band, Test Site, was extremely loud and screamy, but pretty skilled in a speed metal sort of way. I enjoyed them, but my ears are still suffering a bit. 1956 closed strong with some songs from the new album. They also played my favorite song of theirs. I can never remember the title but the first lyrics are “She’s got lightning… in her eyes… don’t you?” Good stuff.
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Giants come and giants go
and they leave their mark on the foot-filled snow
I follow, losing faith as I go
I can’t fill the holes where my feet should go

Going nowhere, leaving nothing, doing nothing wrong

but I’m not giving all there is to give
still I do have big things I believe in
I’m no giant, but I’ll walk tall if I
keep climbing, keep climbing

Redwood falls as another grows
and they pass it on ’til the last one goes
If I knew how to love as they do
I would never stop growing into you

Going nowhere, leaving nothing, maybe just this song

but I’m not giving all there is to give
still I do have big things I believe in
I’m no giant, but I’ll walk tall if I
keep fighting, keep fighting

– Tracy Bonham, I’m No Giant

I needed to find a way to maintain equilibrium and optimism in the face of creative despair. I fought my despair with what I call “morning pages”—three pages of longhand writing about anything: “I don’t like the way Fred talked to me at the office”; “I need to get the car checked”; “I forgot to buy kitty litter.” They don’t look like they have anything to do with creativity, but in fact, as we put these worries, which are sort of a daily soundtrack for most of us, down on the page, we are suddenly much more alert, aware, focused and available to the moment. And we begin to see that we have many creative choices. As I wrote those pages, new ideas began to walk in. Over time, I began to share the morning-pages technique with other people.”

From this article on how to unleash creativity.

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Thinking about headshots, I played around a little bit with PhotoBooth, with the following result.

I had an audition with the artistic director of the Boulevard Theater in Bayview this past weekend. Because I am currently engaged in both my day job and that production of Carousel that I have been selling for the last couple of months, I really did not think I would have time to prep anything for the fellow, but he assured me over the phone that I should still take some time to come in and talk. After all, he repeated, this is an audition for the theater as much as it is for me. I liked that attitude and it certainly seemed to be more than lip service to that sort of ideal.

I sang a bit of the Soliloquy from Carousel for him, after we chatted for a few minutes. He was not forthcoming with specific feedback, not surprisingly; it is probably unbecoming of directors to be so. But he did ask me a question (one question?) for which I was not fully prepared. It was something along the lines of “Where are you going with this acting thing?”
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My friend, Jessica Frantal — who will no doubt be on Project Runway next time, Gadget — was featured, on the cover of the Metro section no less, in the Journal-Sentinel today with her latest designs. Much praise, Hey-soo-kah.

“Students won’t find out who won what for a couple of weeks, but as the jurors huddled to pick the winners, it was clear Frantal was a hit.”

JS Online: Designers try to make cut

I had the good fortune of stumbling across a beautiful Christopher Walken sketch at my hotel room for my cousin’s wedding on Saturday. Here, my friends: drink in Walken’s magnificence.

It makes me giggle with glee. Any man who can do an entire show for people just reading from cue-cards (news anchors don’t make me laugh typically, so they don’t count) is a mad genius.

From this place.

J: Your pardon; did I break thy concentration?
Continue! Ah, but now thy tongue is still.
Allow me then to offer a response.
Describe Marsellus Wallace to me, pray.

B: What?

J: What country dost thou hail from?

B: What?

J: Thou sayest thou dost hail from distant What?
I know but naught of thy fair country What.
What language speak they in the land of What?
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LOLGRUES is possibly my favorite variation on the whole LOL meme. If you don’t get it, don’t sweat it.

I’ve been sitting on this package for months.

Maybe I should have held off telling you that I was going to mail it, but
I was so excited to send it off
that day and I wanted
instant gratification
even at the expense of the firework boom of surprise.

But the post office,
while not far away,
not really,
is a bog of bureaucracy,
paper trees that never blossom,
just sit obscuring vision,
and people wandering lost,
wondering, lost,
thinking that’s just the way of things.

The post office,
no matter how much I decorate the box,
or fill it with little big nothings,
the post office
would ruin my moment and
your moment
for me.

The package is just sitting there now
dust replacing meaning
dust usurping thrill
until it’s just a box
to be checked off a to-do list.

And even I don’t remember
what’s in it.

I want to open it,
and see
what you’re missing.