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the late summer purples

Listening to:	EarthCore
Reading:	Chronicles, Bob Dylan
Weather:	78, mostly cloudy

The milkweed and Joe Pye weed are starting to bloom, both a dusty orchid purple. It won't be long before the iron weed blooms, vivid deep purple, usually beautifully contrasted with the deep yellow rag weed in my meadow. But as much as I like the blooming ironweed, it is a sad signal - summer's almost over, back to school time. Alas.

Larry and I sat on the porch eating breakfast this morning, and he said "why would the Bushees nominate a judge who had penned so few opinions to indicate his positions?" Uh, because he was a judge who had penned so few opinions to indicate his positions. They know exactly where the hell John G. Roberts' biases lie, don't kid yourselves. And barely 50 years old, we could be stuck with this one for 40+ years. His wife has been "deeply involved in the anti-abortion movement" according to the Houston Chronicle. Jumping on the clue train yet? Of course you are.

Well I got the opportunity to play some cello in the studio for dhruva and Erik on a lovely tune of Erik's called Little Queen. Now, I know exactly what little funky riff that DJ in your brain just spun, but no, that's not it. Totally diff. But very groovy nonetheless. I had me a blast.

Whenever you (the grand you, that is) play or sing in the studio, you get a little taste of what it feels like to be a rockstar. Seriously. Phat mic in front of you, stacks of gear everywhere, instruments lying about, headphones on, isolated from the control with its rows and rows of sliders and knobs and blinking reacting lights. But take that and twist it bizarrely with these added circs, and you get the unique Zone 8 experience: The isolation room is the bathroom of this neat little one bedroom house. Control room is the bedroom. No air, it's hotter than hell. So you open windows and blast the fans, which are everywhere, till it's time to hit record. Then you close up, turn off, and start to sweat. And hope a passing coal truck doesn't ruin your take, since the house is RIGHT on the main drag through Granville.

Sounds kinda miserable? Well, it's not at all. Because Mark Poole is just the smiliest kindest encouraging and most humble engineer you can imagine. Plus with dhruva and Erik there, always generous with the attaboys and compliments, it's just lovely. It's uniquely groovy, lucky cat to get the chance. I'll point you to the track when/if it gets posted to the web.

Finally it dropped below 70 last night for the first time in about 6 weeks. Dang, it's been a hell of a hot humid sticky hazy summer thus far. But it dropped to a miraculously comfortable 57 last night! Sweet. Finally burned some brush and burnables last night in the fire ring. Back up to the 90's and misery tomorrow, so I'm glad I got to enjoy it while it was here.

permalink posted by cat 5:13 PM

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