Frozen

Yesterday afternoon was a brilliantly sunny, blue skied day. Gorgeous except for the fact that we were suffering from a dearth of degrees. At 1PM here in Boston we’d reached the day’s warmest point – it was an entire, whopping 8º F. For you Celsius folks that’s NEGATIVE 13 bloody degrees!!! Just for comparison and shit, at the very same moment, in Dublin (where it was six in the evening – i.e., no warming sun), it was 38º(3º C). It was warmer in Reykjavik where they were enjoying a full on, toasty 27º (-2º C). In Berlin, it was 34º (1º C).

Hells bells, it was 10 motherfucking degrees in Fargo, North-fucking-Dakota yesterday! Two more precious points than we had here in coastal, theoretically warmer, New England. I think I want a refund or something and winter’s only just begun.

Also, I only mention it but, when I zoomed out just now to catch the gorgeous bruise colors of the embryonic dawn, it was 2ºF. Would’ve been molto smart to have donned a coat and hat OR, at least, socks. NOOOOOOOOO, I saw the brill hues and just dashed out the door into the snow and ice.

Will I ever learn? Let's not bet on it.
~~~
In last night's last dream, I was with friends from back in my early 20s. Back then, seemingly, everyone I knew was a brill MIT science-type or a musician in a punk band.  Yup, I ran with some interesting crowds. In any case, I was helping my science chums come up with THE perfect doughnut for some big competition they’d entered.

First: Doughnuts? I’m dreaming about doughnuts? I don’t even like doughnuts so lemme just ask, what the ever livin’ fuck?

Second: I don’t cook. I don’t bake. This is a known fact. So, why would anyone ask yurs truly for help in crafting any sort of comestible?

In this bizarro world, I was VERY serious and nervous about creating a stellar beignet. I so wanted to do my pals proud. At the end, I brought out my solitary (I’d only baked the one) creation and presented it to Cindy. She took a bite, allowed that it was very good and kept eating it.

EEEK! I panicked. Stop! Stop eating – we have to submit this to the judges! 

Just make another one, she calmly replied.

Oopsie, not only had I made only one, I hadn’t written down how I’d crafted it. DOH!
~~~
The other morning I woke with a rock solid idea for an installation piece. Great BUT, here’s the thing, where would I install it? Isn’t an audience the whole point of an installation? Do I need to be a famous artist or a college art prof to get this happening?

In any case, here’s my idea: In the center of a darkened room I’ll have three or more streams of steam or smoke rising from one point on the floor. Each will be in different primary color. They’ll roll and roil through and against each other – colors merging and passing through each other. In the background there’ll be three voices – alto, tenor and baritone. Each modulating through a minor scale – separately but overlapping like the smoke.

Yeah, very Brian Eno/Ambient. It’s probably already been done but, like the perfect doughnut, I’d like to try my hand.