This is about time and birds and sound and desert and monkey mind power lines.
But maybe not.
Right now, in this moment that was, it is raining outside.
And that is all that matters.
Too often I live in the future.
It's my vice. My addiction.
It's the main reason I never seem to escape this rotating wheel of birth, life, death.
Or so my monkey mind tells me, sending out its signals of perception along a jumble of powerlines.
The son of a New Jersey salesman working in New York City, I learned at a young age to set my watch ahead five minutes fast.
You're never late when you live in the future. A solid mind fuck that long served me well.
Except for a period in the 80's and early 90's when advanced time migrated forward from 5 minutes to 10 minutes.
Then to 20 minutes.
Eventually I was living in the future by upwards of an hour.
When looking at my watch I often found myself doing all sorts of calculations to figure out where I was in time.
But living in the future like that also gave me more time.
When selling hotdogs in the The Meadowlands for example, I'd find myself left with time to wander and explore before shifts.
I discovered secret trails in the swamps leading to wrecks of mysterious boats, hidden flowers blooming in winter and a place where you could watch the lights of Manhattan fill the sky with stars as the perpetual orange halogen haze of night descended.
It was during one of these future moments, a mid-winter day, sitting in my van, chain-smoking Marlboros on an island of asphalt in a sea of reeds, waiting to serve in the court of Harry M. Stevens, that I discovered a place on the far end of the AM radio dial, where signals overlapped and oscillated between music and words and static and space.
A determined wind clawed and rattled the van's frame and in that moment I drifted into an awareness that continues to this day.
An awareness that brought me here now, with a recording made earlier in the week with Steev Hise, a local sound and vision artist doing some very interesting things.
Steev and I will be creating a sound sculpture together as part of SonicBridge: 2 on March 24.
The workings for this set were rather intuitive: I created sounds with prepared guitar and electric ferris box, fed them into a mixer, and Steev worked with those signals and sound files of his own to recreate something new before feeding it out.
The reincarnated sounds influenced my future responses which Steev then used to create new sounds and so on until we developed a looping sonic feedback construction.
For SonicBridge: 2 we'll be working in a similar fashion but with musicians from Mexico City, Buenos Aires and Chicago.
As of this posting there are no set times known for the event, but you can tune in on March 24 at KAMP for a live stream starting at 5 p.m. (Tucson time, so check your local time configurations) and it should run an hour or two.
The track posted from our session was recorded by simply mic-ing the room itself, so in addition to the unique signals from each of our amps, you also get some wonderful ambient additions such as birds, planes, trains, clicks of buttons and the dings of cat bells.
If you decide to listen, consider closing your eyes, you might find it takes you to some interesting places.
And perhaps, if you're lucky, you'll find yourself floating out of time.
As for myself I'm going to return to the rain now and find a place in what's left of that which was.
Or so I think.