Opening Up Mountains and Selves
“Don't worry spiders,/ I keep house/ casually.”― Kobayashi Issa
I want to begin by acknowledging that the newsletter has been coming out less over the past weeks, only because life has been offering less space for a writing practice (everyone has swells of busy-ness, and I am surfing one). That being said, I have also been working on some bigger projects for The Signal. Over the next month, I will be publishing interviews with Argentinian writer César Aira as well as Bill Millions from The Feelies (around their new live Velvet Underground covers record). I am also working on a deep dive into the world of the Free Jazz record which will include contributions from collectors, critics and musicians. Speaking of records, as soon as I get over the hump of my daughter’s Bat Mitzvah, the “Founding Member” subscribers will be getting their yearly package of music (a choice between new soon-to-be released vinyl reissues of Roy Head or Derrick Morgan) and the regular paid subscribers will be getting a playlist, this edition being a gem of an unreleased live blues show from the 60s (the Founders will get this as well). And as the month finishes, The Signal will go back to being published more regularly.
As always, thank you for reading!!!!
It has been a really interesting past few days. On Sunday I took part in my first circumambulation of Mt Tamalpais, a 55-year-old tradition of circling the mountain as a sacred place, started by Beat poets Gary Snyder, Allen Ginsburg an Phillip Whalen, which is based around Zen technologies. Later that night, through yesterday eve, I practiced the Jewish tradition of Yom Kippur. The former is a 17-mile hike with over 3,000 feet of elevation, stopping in spaces originally marked by Snyder to chant and read poetry (Lew Welch! I had no idea!), the latter is a day of fasting, of standing up for long periods of time reading prayers, poetry, stories. Both had leaders following traditions (with Yom Kippor being a tradition I have been a part of since I was born), both with opportunities to open up and look at the self, both filled with both physical and mental exertion, both challenging the self to open up.
I come to these experiences and rituals as what I call an open atheist, having struggled with the idea that there is some higher power since I was a teenager, and yet being open to the power of ritual, of traditions, and the human energy that weaves through them. I have observed Yom Kippor, in one form or another, all of my life with the holiday gaining meaning and depth to me as an adult, when I started sitting in temple with my dad during the late services, initially so he would not be sitting by himself, at time when everyone around us was tripping on hunger and fatigue as the gates of the previous year closed.
This is not a religious newsletter and I am not a religious person. Having these two experiences back-to-back, weaving seamlessly together, the first with a truly intense physical hike framed by an intergenerational crowd who created a day’s worth of meaning through shouting poetry through the hills about awareness and justice and humor and the self…and then after digging into an ancient tradition I know so well that requires deep self-introspection through ancient texts and poetry and fasting: those two full days ended up being an inspirational soul rinse. With a crazed life of work and family and extra-curricular pursuits, the idea of stepping out of it for a moment…stepping back and looking inward: it was cleansing, inspiring. As I reflected on it all, the golden nugget that I pocketed was that it is so necessary in the chaotic world that we live in to remember to breath. I started listening to my breath on the initial accent of the first peak of the circumambulation, which also brought focus and intention. Remember to breath before action, as life continually, sometimes quickly—often times without notice—throws curveballs and darkness. Remember to breath and let art and artists offer us…show us…a better world.
Near the end of Yom Kippur last night, I came upon a famous quote from Gilda Radner that has stayed with me since:
I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.
Top 25 Most Expensive Items Sold on Discogs in August 2023
You want to hear what a $10,000+ private press 70’s rock record sounds like? Click here to listen to a track from the LINDWURM album Erinnerungen An Klaus that topped the discogs MOST EXPENSIVE RECORD SOLD IN AUGUST. How about 4K for an a-side? That is almost what someone paid for Bob and Fred’s ‘66 soul beauty I’ll Be On My Way….
Painting Emerges After a Century in Storage as a Long-Lost Artemisia Gentileschi
What else was in that storage locker??? “A painting left in storage for more than 100 years has been reattributed to Artemisia Gentileschi, a Baroque painter who, after centuries of relative obscurity, has in recent decades been reconsidered as a major figure of her era.”
‘How a man grew to greatness’: the incredible story of saxophonist Wayne Shorter
How did this pass me by? At the beach the other day a friend told me about this fantastic docuseries about Shorter…and being a little-ways-in…I have to concur! For more on Wayne Shorter from a past Signal newsletter, go here.
Austrian writer Christoph Ransmayr wins 12th Pak Kyongni Prize
I am unfamiliar with Ransmayr’s work but since reading out this prize have been doing a deep dive and have found a few novels that look incredible.
Internet Archive Files Appeal in Publishers’ Lawsuit Against Libraries
For those following the tribulations of the Internet Archive…being sued by both the book publishing business and the music business, here is their public statement as they begin their appeal process.
[Whenever I Make a New Poem,]
By Lew Welch
Whenever I make a new poem,
the old ones sound like gibberish.
How can they ever make sense in a book?
Let them say:
“He seems to have lived in the mountains.
He traveled now and then.
When he appeared in cities,
he was almost always drunk.
“Most of his poems are lost.
Many of those we have were found in
letters to his friends.
“He had a very large number of friends.”
Happy 232nd Birthday, Théodore Géricault….
Great newsletter. Multiple gems of inspiration.