feather2pixels

Spring Break is great! Although I mostly just continued the aimless roaming through museums, coffee shops, and neighborhood cinemas that I started over the weekend, the city just feels different on a Monday. Especially the Mission. There are a lot of kids here and they make me laugh.

Here are two good things, two bad things, and one reason for alarm

-I am in the best biking shape of my life. On Thursday, I biked to the top of 17th street, just to see if I could. My drug test doctor said I had a pulse of sixty, an 80/50 blood pressure, and nice quads. Then he felt my balls. Nothing can stop me! Except for probably even the smallest car ever made.

-In her prime, Emmylou Harris was what could be the most beautiful woman who ever lived. I have a retroactive crush on her.

-As of today, I am caught up with my 2007 resolution of averaging one movie a week in the theater.

-In a single night I scored and lost a press pass as a photographer to the most anticipated San Francisco rock show of Spring 2007. Technically my name is still on the guest list but there’s no way I can show my face there.

-This is not a joke:

-It’s surely a sign of insanity, but I am getting used to the horrifying sound of my car. I find myself putting off the repair and not just because I am lazy; I am turning heads on the street and I secretly like it. This is what school counselors for years described to my parents as “bad attention.”

Since I can’t stand failure (beyond the point of fault and to much unnecessary personal distress), I reprinted my jellies postcards. The results, which were mixed, don’t quite stand on their own since I got rid of the labels. Either that, or this is the best one yet. If you look carefully, you will notice it’s actually a three layer print, the third layer being a light halftone pattern over the jellies. Maybe I will send them.

I love this. This is why the Maritime Academy is so great:

So now I teach in the auditorium. It’s better than the ship.

One of my favorite friends is Kristin. The following are seven items I admire about her.

1. She gave me a typewriter. Weighed in pure inspiration, it’s the best gift I have ever received.
2. She sends mail.
3. Her aesthetics are paramount to her meanings.
4. She always picks up the phone, even after midnight.
5. She grew up in Astoria.
6. She owns every Bob Dylan album except one on vinyl.
7. She saw Rocky Balboa in the theater five times.

My wide-eyed cousin visited last weekend.  More on that later.

My silkscreening activities didn’t work out this week. The reason for this minor tragedy is that my screens fell apart. Oh it’s all my fault. Processing a screen involves coating it with a UV-sensitive emulsion and subsequently exposing it to light through an image. The exposed areas of emulsion harden and the unexposed areas are prevented from exposing by the image. These unexposed areas can be washed away, leaving holes through which ink can pass (A positive printing process).

Unfortunately, this week’s emulsion was laid on thick and I didn’t expose the screen long enough to evenly expose my light areas. The result was a blown out screen and seventy-two unintelligible “Jellies of the San Francisco Bay” postcards. Feather2pixels is certainly not known for backing down to a grungy aesthetic, but these suck. I didn’t even bother with the third layer of detail over the silhouettes.

Here is the best one:

Here is the worst one:

I just came home from the Independent, which is a funny little club in the neighborhood that SF hipsters are shamelessly trying to rename NoPa (NOrth of the PAnhadle). “Western Addition” is apparently much too black. Anyways, I went to see John Darnielle, independent rock’s everyman, and it was a really excellent show.

He made me ponder the rarity of hearing lyrics at a rock show. Sometimes inaudible vocals are well and good (Brightblack Morning Light immediately comes to mind) and sometimes it’s a matter of poor acoustics, but I often get the impression that I can’t hear what performers are saying because they aren’t great performers. This dude knows how to play a show. He knows exactly when to sing loud, when to whisper, when to yell off-mic, and it’s fucking inspirational (So…many…similes….). And all I can think to do with all this inspiration is blog. Awesome show.

Two years after winning it, I finally replaced the chain and sprocket on my bicycle. A near death experience involving the disengagement of my transmission system on Valenica Street necessitated it. I would prefer to spend $60 on tacos, but this is for the best. Besides, there is something deeply satisfying about wearing out a piece of stainless steel under your own power over the course of several years. And although I am sad that I forgot keep my old wearied gear–it would have been great blog material–the thought of my bike dust scattered throughout San Francisco comforts me like a cup of black tea on a rainy day, mixed with milk and sugar. And look: The Mountain Goats have me talking in comparisons, which means it’s time for bed.

I experienced my first San Francisco earthquake last night (magnitude: 4.6. time: 20:40:00, location: 37.901°N, 122.098°W, depth 16.6 km). Of course there are hundreds of seismic events that take place every day as California continues its steady drift into the Pacific–I just happened to feel this one because I was in the silkscreening studio, gingerly painting at a rolling table. I looked up at Josh as it started to sway and we both laughed. Anyways, there are only a few Bay Area conversations more insufferable than earthquake pissing contests (passive whining about the cost of living and about national politics come to mind), but I was excited to finally feel one. Considered with the Telegraph Hill landslide and the stock market slide, it’s been a strange week around here.

The 2007 CMA Automation midterm is officially in the books.