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I've got serious GAS (Gear Acquisition Syndrome) for an iPhone 3G S, Apple's latest iteration of this delightful machine. The latest supports MMS, shooting video, voice control, and many more improvements, in addition to being much faster. The prices have even been improved (a regular iPhone is now only $99!) so there's a chance I can afford one, especially if they have refurbished ones available.

*Poem*

Wisdom

I took a cab ride home the other night.

Straight up First Avenue from

the east Village to East 58th Street.

One of those scenes you just sort of

find yourself in and start picking up

on some transcendence, some greater

work of art in the wind, some spark

of continuity and clairvoyance.

I rolled down the window as I got in

and as the taxi picked up speed

I felt as though the wind blowing

through the open window was in fact

blowing me back to square one,

to the conceptions I began with,

to my first larger aims,

but now with all the wisdom 20 years

will bring in retrospect.

I passed a street corner where I had

a nasty run in with a street person once,

passed a block where I was schooled

by one or two fists (for reasons

since forgotten), an awning under which

I kissed one of the very first girls I loved,

a stretch of blocks that has always

reminded me of the me I left behind

when became a man, and the intersection

where I first came to know that love

means loss necessarily. Rarely are we

wise enough to love what we've always had.

Perhaps this is the essence of The Journey:

one must love what one has

and the quest is to clarify exactly

what one can call one's own, what one loves

enough to live well and fully and proudly,

even as the boy is banished from

the terrain of one's face,

the home of the ghosts of one's dreams,

the last known address of one's longing.

My new address is simple. Plain. Everyday.

*Quotations*

Good writing is always about things that are important to you, things that are scary to you, things that eat you up. But the writing is a way of not allowing those things to destroy you.

--John Edgar Wideman

Art is the triumph over chaos.

--John Cheever

Art, in itself, is an attempt to bring order out of chaos.

--Stephen Sondheim

We adore chaos because we love to produce order.

--MC Escher

Chaos in the world brings uneasiness, but it also allows the opportunity for creativity and growth.

--Tom Barrett

Chaos is the score upon which reality is written.

--Henry Miller

Chaos is a name for any order that produces confusion in our minds.

--George Santayana

Real discoveries come from chaos.

--Chuck Palahniuk

Any change is resisted because bureaucrats have a vested interest in the chaos in which they exist.

--Nixon

Anything you build on a large scale or with intense passion invites chaos.

--Francis Ford Coppola

*Sacred*

When I was a boy in the 70s my mother kept a big scrapbook in which she inscribed her most loved language. Occasionally we would go to the book together and she would read to me; my memories of those occasions strike me distinctly now as sacred occasions, more so than I've ever felt in a church or temple. I remember this poem, I am Waiting by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, as if it makes up an essential part of my original ideas about the world. It does. As such, my original conceptions were radical and revolutionary; my ideals most certainly still are. To me this sums up the whole idea of beat poetry. Every word of poetry I've ever written is in my heart of hearts an homage to this transcendent piece. I am eternally indebted to my mother who gave me a deathless and ever-inspiring gift in my appreciation for this piece. As per the final words, this poem _is_ the 'great indelible poem' in my life. Success, Mr Ferlinghetti! I will transcribe my favorite verses here, 1st, 5th, 7th/final stanzas:

I am Waiting (Lawrence Ferlinghetti, 1958)

I am waiting for my case to come up

and I am waiting

for a rebirth of wonder

and I am waiting for someone

to really discover America

and wail

and I am waiting

for the discovery

of a new symbolic western frontier

and I am waiting

for the American Eagle

to really spread its wings

and straighten up and fly right

and I am waiting

for the Age of Anxiety

to drop dead

and I am waiting

for the war to be fought

which will make the world safe

for anarchy

and I am waiting

for the final withering away

of all governments

and I am perpetually awaiting

a rebirth of wonder.

I am waiting for my number to be called

and I am waiting

for the living end

and I am waiting

for dad to come home

his pockets full

of irradiated silver dollars

and I am waiting

for the atomic tests to end

and I am waiting happily

for things to get much worse

before they improve

and I am waiting

for the Salvation Army to take over

and I am waiting

for the human crowd

to wander off a cliff somewhere

clutching its atomic umbrella

and I am waiting

for Ike to act

and I am waiting

for the meek to blessed

and inherit the earth

without taxes

and I am waiting

for forests and animals

to reclaim the earth as theirs

and I am waiting

for a way to be devised

to destroy all nationalisms

without killing anybody

and I am waiting

for linnets and planets to fall like rain

and I am waiting for lovers and weepers

to lie down together again

in a new rebirth of wonder.

I am waiting

to get some intimations

of immortality

by recollecting my early childhood

and I am waiting

for the green mornings to come again

youth's dumb green fields come back again

and I am waiting

for some strains of unpremeditated art

to shake my typewriter

and I am waiting to write

the great indelible poem

and I am waiting

for the last long careless rapture

and I am perpetually waiting

for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn

to catch each other up at last

and embrace

and I am awaiting

perpetually and forever

a renaissance of wonder.

*Progress*

One of the essential problems with the idea of progress (and infinite growth) is that with every supposed improvement there comes an unforeseen cost which often negates the benefits of the improvement in the first place. [For what it's worth, in my mind's eye this problem is definitely orange.] Examples include: with improved speed of travel comes the cost of noise, with improved speed of communication come heavier demands on the energy infrastructure, with improved cleanliness we become more susceptible to germs when we are eventually exposed to them, with improvements in efficiency and environmental areas often come drawbacks like mercury (in CFL bulbs) and MBTE (a gasoline additive intended to reduce harmful emissions but which causes cancer and birth defects), and improvements in the price of raw materials (to manufacturers) and manufacturing processes often end up yielding inferior but less expensive (to end users and manufacturers both) products, with acrylic clothing at the top of the list.

In fact clothing is the quintessential example of "progress" not being progress at all: we started with the most efficient and best-working material, animal skins; when the world became more populated skins themselves became impossible for everyone to use so we moved to wool, next best to animal skins; eventually even wool became too expensive and we moved to cotton. Every step has been necessary and has left us worse off than we were before. Lord knows no one should have to wear the polyester and acrylic crap that lines clothing-store walls today! More harm than good, I'm sure I don't have to tell you. Beware progress! Do not be quick to think that every movement forward is in fact progress. Importantly, real progress invariably involves improvement in intangible things, relations (race, cultural, religious), understanding, sympathy, forgiveness. generosity. These and similar notions constitute our only way forward!

*Synesthesia*

A Facebook friend (Dan Godston) posted this notice this week. Wish we could explore every city this way.

"2009 is the centenary of the publication of The Plan of Chicago. The Synesthetic Plan of Chicago: A Multi-Sensory Journey Through Chicago and Its Neighborhoods corresponds with the celebration of this historic event. An interactive installation at the Chicago Cultural Center Visitor Information Center (77 E. Randolph Street), The Synesthetic Plan of Chicago is part of the citywide summer tourism initiative, Explore Chicago: Take A Neighborhood Vacation (June 1–September 30). More than 40 artists and organizations have joined in creating this exploration of Chicago through the five senses. Visitors and locals can experience Chicago imagery, sounds, fragrances, flavors and textures captured in miniature neighborhood scenes such as a mapping of the tastes and recipes of Chinatown, and an exploration of East Garfield Park candy. SPC’s participating artists and organizations have designed installation pieces which invite people to interact with the sensory “artifacts” of Chicago in creative and imaginative ways, and to think about synesthetic connections with things that relate to Chicago. The Synesthetic Plan of Chicago is commissioned by the City of Chicago, and it is co-curated by Annie Heckman and Daniel Godston."

*Design*

The best education I ever received on graphic design--designing anything for that matter--came from a book called "Forget all the rules you ever learned about graphic design, including the ones in this book," by Bob Gill, son of the man who created the greatest 20th-century sans-serif font, Gill Sans (the ultra-bold variety in particular somehow encapsulates the modern day). This book is the perfect anti-establishment work. Mr Gill went from being a designer to being a teacher and this book is largely a product of his dismay at what he saw from students in design school. His basic premise: any given design project presents a problem that needs an answer (Is our product the best? Will you benefit from our product? How are we better than others? Etc.); often the best answers come from turning the question on its head. For example: Why is our company the worst possible choice? It isn't; it's actually the best choice--but we got your attention.

This intellectual starting point is very unlike what one would learn in art school. In the book Gill excoriates what he sees as the ineffectual products of anti-intellectual schooling--folks highly skilled at design solutions they can't explain, justify, or back up. When he first started teaching he was stunned that students actually believed just the right font, or the right color, or the right geometric shape were things that could make or break a design. Quickly he got to the point where his rule was simple: if one cannot _describe_ the design solution, in words, the design is lacking. He required all students to _talk about_ there ideas rather than showing off the latest design trick or technology--and this was back in the 70s. This caused no small degree of discomfort among his art-centric students. The point he tried to get across is that this is _communication_ art, emphasis on the communication of _ideas_.

I found all this incredibly valuable. One of the first solutions I came up with after reading the book was a poster for Whatcom Watch; it was a poster calling for volunteers. I thought, "Okay, we need volunteers. How do I turn this problem on its head?" I worked with an illustrator who drew whimsical line-art portraits of everyday people, a student, a nurse, an old lady, etc. I put them together in an attractive, text-heavy layout; Gill would have been proud as the graphics were clearly not the point. The point was the patter that appeared: "What, do you think we _need_ people like you? You're right, we do. We are Whatcom Watch, Whatcom County's environmental monthly. We've been keeping tabs on local environmental and political issues for almost a decade--and we're not about to stop. But we need your help." This is one of my designs I'm most proud of. Thanks to Bob Gill.

*Poem*

Moon Rock II

That old piece of the moon

my old friend Katie gave me

survived the recent

tumult in my life

better than anything else I own.

As I've come full circle

I see the importance of

the commemorative stamps

better than ever.

We landed on the moon

the year I was born!

How full of hope

people must have been.

Anything was suddenly possible.

My mother must have been

equally hopeful,

about her new son,

about her marriage,

about what would be possible

in her lifetime.

The sad thing is

we have all been schooled.

Anything is most certainly

_not_ possible,

we have overstepped our bounds,

and the world is unhappy, unfit,

and uncared for.

The hope we had in 1969

is bursting into flames

like Icarus's wings.

*Music*

"I was raised in a Catholic school, learned who to fire with and pray to.

I learned how to hold on from a book of old Psalms.

And if you're trying to sing an old song, you're getting all the words wrong.

Well, you're just a-following along too closely in the book."

--M. Ward

"Though our fathers' fathers slept in stolen houses--

all that's over now.

And our babies never cry.

And we can look you in the eye

and say, 'We're not afraid to die'.

And, yes, our mothers' mothers saw in black and white--

but all that's over now.

And our children never lie.

And no matter how we try

we are not afraid to die."

--Iron & Wine

The above song, which is a little more than a minute long, is the best track I've heard yet from Iron & Wine. It shows remarkable depth of historical understanding, and insight into the human condition, with the tongue-in-cheek and sardonic character so typical of Sam Beam.

_____

Top ten random jazz tracks:

12. Soul Dance, Joshua Redman

11. Suspended Variation II, Tomasz Stanko

10. Once in a Lifetime (Talking Heads), Jacqui Naylor

9. Birdland (Weather Report), Niacin

8. Company, Patricia Barber

7. Do like Les, John Scofield

6. Revolution (Marley), Charlie Hunter

5. Waltz for Geri, Pat Martino

4. Lonnie's Lament (Coltrane), Kenny Garrett

3. Poochie Pie, Mike Mainieri

2. Who was That Girl?, Bill Frisell

1. November, Dave Douglas

Peace, love, and ATOM jazz