bookmark_borderCH – Miles Davis’ Face on a Vinyl Record – 09:20; 10 July, 2019

A vinyl record with a face painted on it affixed to a brick wall in Winterthur, Switzerland.

One of the first things that caught my eye as I walked from the Winterthur station to my hosts house was a record suspended on the brick facade of a building. Thinking back on it now. I can’t be certain whether it was at the base of a set of stairs which lead up to a second floor entrance or not. I’m pretty sure it was. What struck me as odd was not merely the fact that someone had nailed, or somehow affixed a vinyl record to the outer brick wall of this very industrial looking building, but that someone had painted a face on it. Nowadays, vinyl records are being produced with all manner of designs on them as a way to make the object of the record more appealing, more visually interesting. As if a large disc of plastic with microscopic bumps and grooves that makes music isn’t fascinating enough.          

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bookmark_borderPoem: When I Say I Love the Rain – 14 June, 2021

After a fairly unproductive day, I ate a small dinner outside the back of my apartment which is a small slab of concrete upon which there are two small tables, and three chairs. A neighbor was outside a few apartments away. He was on the phone and holding one of his young children. They both went inside shortly after I finished eating. Perhaps they knew the rain was coming.

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bookmark_borderPoem: I Saw A Missile Lying in a Bed

It has been difficult finding ways to cope with all that is going on in the world these days. After a long walk with my dog I sat down and tried to write. This poem, a work in progress, is all I could come up with. It is difficult to write about these things. About death and war and massacres, genocides, occupation. Difficult still when I have no experience with them. Do I even have any right to write about them?

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bookmark_borderSome Brief Thoughts on Art, Censorship, and the Responsibility and the Ethics of Creating

Fri. 30 April 2021 – Bed

Sometimes, more often than not actually, conversations are the best mediums for thought. Tonight, a friend of mine messaged me asking if I had seen the film La montaña sagrada (The Holy Mountain), Alejandro Jodorowsky‘s visually stunning (and arresting) surrealist fantasy which offers a critical look at mankind throughout the heavily symbol-laden epic.

As their phone was malfunctioning, most of their comments were shared via audio recordings, most of which I did not think to save or transcribe. My apologies. However, I would like to share my responses, as half of the discussion, for some thoughts on art, censorship, and the responsibility and ethics of creating.

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