"The earth does not need me, but I do need the earth"

Although my eyeballs are close to completely dried out, I do not blame Rivers and Tides- at least not in a negative way.

It was fitting: it captured and complimented Andy Goldsworthy's vast collection of work. Some cuts seemed to tickle just as I would imagine stumbling across his work in the wilderness would. Others teased, showing clips of a nearly finished piece, only to later flash back to it being overtaken and put into play by nature. The merging of both diegetic and non-diegetic sound made the images on screen that much more satisfying.

As one of the first pieces we see Andy focus on for an extended period of time is swallowed by the sea, he explains that this process does not feel at all like destruction for his pieces are a gift he gives to nature, and nature accepts.

His admiration of movement and change was illuminated not only through his words, but through his actions as well. In fact, at one point towards the end of the movie he tells us that "words do their job, but what I do means so much more".

To say the least, I find his lifestyle and work incredibly endearing. Each new creation, no matter how simple or complex it was, how dark and deep or light-hearted, made me smirk.

His patience, intuition, and originality seem never ending. This film was refreshing and stimulating. Weee

In other news, frogs are taking over the world.

It felt just like old times

Unbearably self conscious, lazer beams of hatred shooting out of each surrounding pair of eyeballs, wanting desperately to leave but also wanting to stay, wanting to hide but also completely incapable of tearing yourself away from what seems at the moment the most intimidating crowd of your life.

An outsider wouldn't be able to fully understand. One may sense the soypudding thick tension clogging the entire campus of the venue, he or she will probably mistake it for first-time-participation-jitters. It is not. Every Doylestown show of this genre ever since I can remember has been like this. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

Although it is possible to find some relief when stepping outside of the teen center or church or lodge in which the concert itself is taking place, it seems impossible to rid of your churning stomach and/or desperate fidgiting until the end of the evening.

The show I am currently referring to was the Tigers Jaw/Balance and Composure Split release at CUMC- dangerously close to Doylestown in both location, sound, and ambience. Saturday May 15th, 2010 was quite a long day to say the least. After a cuddle, making some cookies, running around in some sunning around, we ended up at CUMC sometime after 6- but let me tell you it felt like 2pm.

The first couple bands were cute- I was impressed by Fear n Loathing's set. I bopped my head around to Man Overboard n stuff- pretty charming. We all had to take a break from the pressure of the indoors and escaped for some cookies. Upon our return, dusk was settling in so we grabbed a wedgie burger/dog combo for only $5-$&^%$#@@!

Daylight was not bad, Transit was coolish, and I actually really enjoyed End of a Year.

Of course, the highlight of my night was singing into Adam McIlwee's microphone- especially during Tigers Jaw's encore of Chemicals (I'm happy that Casey always gets what she wants except for at Beach House when them bitches don't play Saltwater for us).

Balance and Composure's songs are really long, k? I guess it is mandatory for me to add that there were a few songs I didn't completely mind, I was just really super tired at the end and wasn't patient enough for their overwhelmingly long set.

All in all, a great day. Hope there is another similar show 10-15 minutes from both of my residences sometime. I'm a sucker for those butterflies in my belly.

Confine

I sat in the center of the Sax, my default "I don't know where else to go" spot. The comfy chair was taken and the corporate aliens were working which meant no free tea- and Jack Johnson. Needless to say I kept my headphones in place, gloomgaze oozing out all the while. Rifling through some enviro, my peripheral vision blurred, I began to feel like I was in the middle of the gymboree parachute: everyone else had lifted it up and I was now surrounded, seated in the middle.

My car gave me a headache and I couldn't get a good breath anywhere indoors.

It's time for a run

This ain't good but at least it's something.

Been smelling like smoke

And may have gotten better at not having expectations.

Flexibility always will be an important tool of teendom.

Slow dancing is where it's at

A Place to Bury Strangers

No other title seems suitable.

At least for APTBS' set, my setting resembled such a locality, both tactillicly and auditorily.

Even between songs, at least two players kept the airplane noise of doom goin' strong. Then tormented the audience with tantalizing build-ups followed by hypnotizing explosions of distortion.

And I ate it all up for dinner.

Not only did tonight sound like the funnest halloween I've ever had, but the band looked and even smelled the part as well. The light show consisted of a seemingly-purposefully-off-centered projection of some combination of Yes and Nirvana album art and graph paper. It shined as if turned on by a preoccupied substitute teacher who left the room to make copies, leaving the guitarist/vocalist in the dark only half of the time. Leaving me just enough time to catch a glimpse of his festive boxers: a pair covered with my favorite land creature. So like, who told him I loved bats?

The evil odor I speak of was a result of the two fog machines which I am now a firm believer are completely underrated. I should speak more of the catchy riffs and satisfyingly dance-able beats. Or how my entire body tingled at from start to finish. Or how MJ and I made it to Philly and back with ample time. However, watching the moon shrink back to its normal-sized whiteness and screaming Louder than Bombs louder than, well, bombs has seemed to have lulled me further into a daze and I must get a bit of sleep to fuel the prose portion of my Lit final tomorr- today.

My ears are almost back to normal which means I may have to travel to New York sometime in the nearish future and have my mind blown by "craziness".

I hope to dream of zombie Oliver Ackermann and his string-less guitar walking slowly through lingering fog and somehow catching up to me as I struggle to run in my Docs.

Misty Reflection

As mist stung my arms on this beautiful Monday evening, I recalled the events that made up my weekend that seemed to slip by quick as usual.

Friday was frisbee followed by baking. I baked Bambi's mini bleeding strawberry cupcakes and famous chocolate chips until I actually dropped. All worth it, of course, to hear reassuring "mmmms" and smiley munchers enjoying free music.

By fresh fire light, Tryina Be A Mammoth (http://www.myspace.com/tryinabeamammoth) began the evening of free music with a soulfully sweet set like no one but Joe could have. He began bravely with a new song he had just completed a few hours prior. The entire set could not have been more charming what with us all cozied on the carpet of the cigar parlor, eyes fixed on the Mammoth's magic hands. Occasionally, I'd catch him let out a characteristic (and contagious) giggle.

Me and my crew of treat carriers packed up and moved on to enjoy the next show at Esteticks. Delicate Steve from North Jersey (www.myspace.com/delicatesteve) pleasantly surprised just about everyone in the sneaks store. Color was everywhere and although this was an entirely different atmosphere and acoustics set up, the crowd assimilated immediately; in fact, I believe we all skipped past the headbobfoottap and went right to a hop.

Next stop was Sparta Philharmonic (http://www.myspace.com/spartaphilharmonic) at Siren. I always enjoy this band of brothers- lol-but seriously. I've seen them probably about 4 times at very different venues throughout the Doylestown area, and each time was equally as mind blowing. The pair excretes so much power, it's almost uncomfortable. Yet, it is impossible to turn away. I've honestly never seen so much passion condensed into a few live songs and I'm always yearning for that blast of crunch finale.

That Smell of Swamp

The sun's not so bad afterall.

The stars were better though.

Thangs I want to do soon:

See oscar-nominated shorts at the County

Have Devon pierce me somewhere

Read in the grass

Head butt someone

Run in trails

Blink 182... again and again and again and again and again....and again

Play bass and sing

Make Bleeding Cupcakes

Ninja Turtles