Though most of my friends and family know. I’ve rarely shared my passion for music or vinyl records on this log very often. Having sold all of my original collection of LP’s, EP’s and cassettes on Ebay in the months prior to my initial three week trip to Japan in 2001. I soon learned that my choice to do so, might have been a bad one. Though having just about everything I sold on CD’s or CDR’s. I did not think that the crates of records and boxes of cassettes would be missed. I later found that my decision might have been a hasty one.
Starting only a few years ago. I slowly started to purchase and collect vinyl again. Since that time, I’ve managed to recollect most of the records I originally owned and sold. I’ve also eclipsed the original size of what I once thought of as too many records. I’m at a point now where I’ve become a bit more selective with what I buy, often reminding myself that I’m getting older and will someday have to pack them up and move. Still, my obsession and my wife’s support of my weekly trips to various vinyl record outlets doesn’t look to be slowing down anytime soon.
It never fails. Whenever I enter a record store, it happens. Something, whether it be a song, a record, a shirt or any exchange regarding music. A connection is made. From my days as a teen working in a record store or m\y visits to record stores in any town, city or country I’ve visited.
During my first days in Seattle I found myself in a small record shop talking to a native New Yorker who did time on the early New York Hardcore scene. He pointed himself out in a Live DVD of the first Bad Brains show at CBGB’s. Later on that week I struck up a conversation with another employee who used to volunteer at the legendary Gilman St. Project. Just last week I was pulling records out of the bin when I learned that the clerk behind the counter was also originally from New York City and worked at a record store just a few blocks from the one off St. Marks St. where I was working nights.
Then there was this Sunday when I visited a record store a mere block away from where my wife and I had just devoured delicious servings of chicken and waffles. I had been to this particular store numerous times when I first settled in the area and had always found something to my liking. On this day, as I took my stash to the counter. I noticed the clerk was wearing a shirt from the surf rock superhero band Daikaiju. I pointed out the shirt and asked when/where he had seen them. Adding that I had had the pleasure of seeing them up close at a bar in Brooklyn, NY.
In late 2017 I found a kindred spirit while talking music with the record guru at a local West Seattle record store. and found myself in deep conversation could go on and on with countless stories regarding friends and relationships that began while visiting record stores or going to shows, but I’ll spare you of my never ending tales of geekdom. Instead, I offer this images of the mighty Daikaiju from their show at Hank’s Saloon in Brooklyn, NY.
For years now, I’ve tried to make meditation a part of my every day life. Quickly, I moved from one of those people who thought “How can I possibly find the time in my busy schedule?” to “How can I not?” Since my early attempts, I’ve used basic breathing techniques to conquer panic attacks, anxiety and overthinking while cultivating a sense of peace and mindfulness I never imagined possible.
Earlier today, as we boarded the Ferry from Bainbridge Island to downtown Seattle. I found the perfect opportunity to meditate. With nothing but the sound of waves crashing alongside the boat, the subtle breeze wafting through the car window and the gentle rocking of the car due to the ferry’s pushing it’s way across Elliot Bay. I found myself removed from the thoughts of the days, weeks and months that have crowded my head and battled for space and permanence in mind. The feeling was of warmth and peace. I became so completely calm and at ease. That I hardly noticed the ferry attaching itself to the dock. As I heard the announcement of our arrival over the loudspeaker. I nodded over to my wife to notice that she too had fallen into the spell. She sleepily asked, “When we could do it again?” I was quick to reply, “As soon as we can.” as we headed home from our day’s trip.
The more I learn about and inevitably embrace meditation. The more I want my friends and loved ones to join me. The most important thing I’ve learned in all this is that you really don’t need a special room, place, pillow or chant to enjoy it’s many benefits. All you need is a few minutes to allow yourself to check out and unplug. I highly recommend it.
Having seen my share of iPhone and Samsung commercial spots talking up the wonderful images you can create with their new technology and reading various articles predicting the beginning of the end of SLR’s as we know them. I’m somewhat surprised by how well I was responding and reacting. After hearing “Do you think you can set up a studio in this room? Or “Do you think all your photo gear will fit in this closet?” during our years trying to buy a condo. That and the fact that I’m holding on to a dozen or so film cameras. I found myself feeling more relieved than stressed.
And why not? How often have we wished for a magic wand to clear away all the clutter and extra stuff that takes up our closets, our shelves, floors, the space under our beds. Forcing us to foolishly rent storage space and make hard decisions about what stays or goes. Though I haven’t gotten into the disease / disorder that, as it progresses, wrecks havoc on my balance and ability to walk. The practice of carrying around a camera back full of gear is becoming a major issue. What if all of that could fit in the back of my pocket? Times change and the media we use to create art changes with it. I clearly remember the resistance I had when switch from film SLR’s to Digital. And though I put up a good fight. I was and still am feeling the rewards. More and more these days I’m reserving my camera, the myriad of lenses and my add on flash for more demanding moments. While keeping my iPhone handy for when my wife texts me or I see something like what I’ve posted above to capture for future consideration.
I love Seattle, living in Columbia City, our apartment, our neighbors and living within spitting distance of Columbia Park, the Public Library and Seattle Lake. Each of which I don’t take for granted, but don’t take advantage of nearly as much as I should. As I’ve grown to understand and embrace the importance of time, how it’s spent and how to make the most of what we have. I’m finding more focus and a new found ability to properly manage it. As someone who’s dealt with anxiety, panic attacks and depression over the years. I’ve done more than my share of worrying and overthinking. Thankfully though, I’ve learned and I’m still learning how to manage if not control my thoughts. Putting things in perspective, as opposed to letting them build up and let them effect me in a negative way. I feel that in changing my environment, I became more open to shifting the way I see things. Something I see as a major positive. The pictures below were taken over the weekend at nearby Lake Washington.
Instead of writing a long winded recap regarding our first ever trip to Portland Oregon. I thought it might be better to just refer to some of the images taken over our two day stay. Since moving to Seattle in June of 2017, there has been no shortage of things to do. From our trips to the mountains, beaches, island hopping, drives to Tacoma and Olympia. As well as our future plans to visit Vancouver, Canada and Alaska. We’ve definitely made the most of our time in the great northwest. We both loved our visit to Portland. Leaving our car in the hotel garage was a great choice. We really enjoyed walking and burning some of the calories we amassed at the hotels breakfast and the bacon donuts we picked up at Voodoo Donuts. Though we often credit ourselves anti-tourist. It’s probably easy to say, we probably stood out like sour thumbs on a hand model.
The images below were taken along Mississippi Ave. in the less tourist driven area of Portland. We really enjoyed spending much of out Sunday strolling around the neighborhood. Along the way, we stopped for ice cream and ice coffee before our final stop at Mississippi Records. Now I can happily join my friends when they say how much they love Portland.
Earlier today I took a short, yet rewarding trip to Gas Works Park . As I entered, the early afternoon sun was almost blinding (Definitely not the best time of day for taking picture.) Just ahead of me was a large hill where a number of families were enjoying one of the most beautiful days Seattle had seen in months. The sight of a Father and son flying a kite refreshed a moment from my childhood that, though I may not have recalled in more then thirty five years, had a profound effect on me and my respect for my Mother.
Now, I haven’t flown a kite since I was around ten. However, something about what I was suddenly paying close attention to brought back a very important day in my life. I remember it being Mother’s Day and my Mom wasn’t too happy about spending the day with her highly dysfunctional in laws in Corona, Queens. So, instead of spending the day cooped up with Ella, Al and the rest of mentally challenged. She excused herself and me escaping to nearby Flushing Meadow Park where we were able to clear our minds, enjoy the fresh Flushing air and learn to fly a kite. Picture, if you will an uncoordinated Mother and her clumsy son not only trying to get that just purchased kite in the air, but trying to keep it there and look as if we had even the slightest idea what we were doing. I can assure you, it was not a pretty site. Regardless, we had a lot of fun.
And though we tend to look back on that short, yet agonizing time and the negative hold it had on our lives. There were still many little moments that are still worth looking back on. Ones that brought us closer together, made us stronger and still make us laugh so many years later. I’m grateful to have so many stories and memories to share with her. Proud to say that with all the things we’ve been through. We can still enjoy one anothers silliness. Thank you Mom. Thank you for making me the man I am today and the man I hope to be in the future. Happy Mother’s Day. Love, your son.