Caffeinated Reflection

I love snapping reflections in coffee. Something about that dark, oily surface and the hint of another world lurking within the caffeinated opaqueness.

After much procrastination, the two-wheeled birdsmobile is fully juiced, tuned, and bouncing on its new lower bracket. Oh what a difference it makes. I bombed around the periphery of the island via the superb riverside paths (on the east south; west past the Battery Park hoards; north on the west) like a greasedgit in the brilliant Manhattan afternoon. Watched the tourists and rigging for a bit in South Street Seaport, took my time on the west side north of the seventies (one of my fave parts of NYC), and felt fully sprung.

First visit to the Bronx Bombers tomorrow. Definitely Spring!

Whichever Way the Wind Blows

I witnessed a City Discustoid Moment walking down Morningside Drive yesterday evening. Youngish bloke about 20 m infront of me decided to piss up against the wall of Morningside Park, but did so without bothering to stop walking. Nonchalantly spraying urine to his side and then wiping his hands down his side when he got to the light. Ughhhhhhh. Someone hose him down from a fire hydrant, please.

Imagerly (nice word), I've been inverting my world a little this week. Like some of the results. Haven't inverted much else....

Moosakkerlie (nice wordler), I've gone a bit ambient and heavily delayed. Nothing digitally deposited yet, mind.

With the spring clocks sprung, I'm off out into the real world more & more. Looking forward to both the 5-boro bike tour (thanks, JDB!) & the Great Saunter coming up soon. Gimmie baseball, n'all.

Greenbirds

Things have definitely gone a bit green...(Hell, 'tis springtime, clocks just turned, after all innit.)

Manhattan in the moist mist of a marine monsoon. Dampens (figuratively, literally, and then figuratively again) the weekend wanderlust.

Continuing on with the Ming-Liang Tsai mini-fest: Vive L'Amour. Another great meditation; bit more work and not with the impact of What Time Is It There, but worth the slow pace and gentle unfolding. Definitely a few themes shared with WTIIT and Goodbye Dragon Inn. Director certainly knows how to extract some intense and focused performances from the cast. Final in-park sobbing scene quite extraordinary.

Musical pores somewhat blocked and dispondent recently. Happens. A mild abandonment.

Vowell Movement

She looked like it was a necessary evile decended upon her by the publishing powers that be, but the dry wit shon through and was a fun 20 minutes listening to Sarah Vowell reading herself at Astor Place. "My life is so much boring now that I'm a writer". Yeah, I bet....

A few minidiscs clattered out from under an electronic stone last night which has led to the resurfacing of the Birdw0rks Radio Show - a faux slice of madness & music from across the years mixed together with a tin cup and a pair of waders last year. Definitely a product of spending too many late nights listening to Blue Jam in the dark, but I have a particular fondness for the product. There are a couple more, slightly less deranged, lurking in the recent pseduobirdsdeejay archies n'all...