There was a pile (or maybe I should describe it as a stack) of records propped up next to a tree on Silver Street the other day. Lots of the sorts of records here that you see at every thrift store: Firestone Christmas albums, repackaged classical records with new, hip album art, songs for lovers, those sorts of things. Had I a turntable, I might have availed myself of some of these records. But honestly, I don’t even know if these were free for the taking, or if they were just sitting out there waiting for a specific person. So I satisfied myself with just a photo. (It was a good day for finding things on the sidewalk — later that day, I found a pair of size-13 black tennis shoes and the November 2007 issue of Orion on the sidewalk as well — took the latter home, but not the former
Obviously, any sorts of grand pronouncements I make should be taken lightly. The resurgent photo-a-day project succumbed to the irritants of the end of the semester, which was multiplied by camera problems and generic apathy when I was in Colorado for Christmas and New Year’s. I took some pictures, mostly not-very-good ones, while I tried to temporarily forget about the obligations I had here, back at home. So, when I got back, I found that I had few photos to account for my time away. (This is what sunk the project the last time I tried to do it, too — two weeks in Grand Junction is enough to suck the creativity out of anyone.) So, back to your regularly scheduled intermittent posting schedule.
This morning, I leave for Brussels. Four days there, four days in London, and then back to ABQ for two months of intensive studying for my comprehensive exams. Yay for the first part of that sentence — unfortunately, the rest of it is going to suck. At least I had a decent winter break. I got to see my family, then spent two days in Denver with S., one of my favorite people of all time, while staying in one of the nicest hotels I’ve ever stayed in. New Mexico has ruined my ability to enjoy normal Colorado winters, though — all of the time I was up there, in 20- to 30-degree weather, I kept thinking about how much I would rather be in balmy 40-degree ABQ. Riding your bike once it gets past 30 degrees, I’ve found, is an experiment in endurance and layering clothing, more than anything else.
Back, in a week and a half, perhaps, with pictures of foreign sidewalks, graffiti, signs, meals and bikes.
Some links:
Rare interview with Roy Montgomery, one of my favorite musicians.
Tim Burke writes about competency as a specific form of cultural value.
I missed out on Happy Introvert Day on 2 January. (I didn’t really miss it — I was busy being introverted that day — but I didn’t write about it until now.)
Chez Shoes has the right idea when it comes to resolutions. (My one resolution — attain ABD status — is not quite so sympatico.) She also alerts us to this report about what’s going on to the world’s greatest style of shoe (the Dansko Marcelle).
The coffee bike. A self-employment idea tucked away for the future.
So many classic rock and r&b mp3s. Not the best sound quality, but that’s okay — you can pretend like you’re listening to the radio in 1958.
