It's December 31, 2012. So the Julian calendar, a totally arbitrary way of measuring the passage of time and organizing days into neatly manageable chunks (and oh, those Romans were fond of neatly organized chunks of nearly anything), is rolling over again, meaning we all have to go out and buy new calendars...
Maybe I'm just getting crusty and old, but for the love of Mike, Pete, Jove, Larry, Mo and Curly, can we please stop obsessing over keeping track of the flow of days? The Earth spins, so we have nights and we have days. The Earth is tilted on it's axis, so we have seasons. The Earth is circling the Sun, so we have years. And we mark the days in little boxes because we think what we do with time is going to matter. A thousand years from now, the great majority of us will not even be footnotes. The human race shot itself in the foot a long time ago, and now we're living on borrowed time.
Time is precious. Time is fleeting. Time is relative. Time is too big to contain in any ledger or chart. Time is too sacred a thing. We expect it to conform because we say so. But Time is bigger, and older, and smarter than we are. It flows on whether we want it to or not. We are linear. Time is... Not... Pure Time cannot be contained, measured, or even described. It sure as hell doesn't obey any rules. Time is as big as the Universe. Don't fuck with Time. Show it some respect.
So as you mark the throwing out of one Julian calendar and replace it with another, perhaps one with pictures of cute kittens or lush countryside, take a moment and try to suspend yourself in non-linear Time. Ignore your breathing and your heartbeat. Be timeless, in order to better appreciate Time.
May your next journey around the Sun be a pleasant one.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Monday, December 3, 2012
A beautiful, wild ruckus
December 2, Aunt G and the Stone City Nephews took to the studio to record the songs we've been learning and rehearsing. It was a monumental experience, honestly...
For starters, it was well north of 60 degrees, beautiful clear autumnal blue sky, gentle breeze... And we were recording in Pete Becker's converted corn crib out in the Iowa hinterlands south of Iowa City. I got there a little early and spent some time walking around the yard with my fiddle playing for what few birds were around. John Waite got there next, and we stood outside the studio and played fiddle tunes for 30 minutes until the rest of the crew got there. It was the perfect way to warm up and get in the mood for what was to come.
Once inside, Pete began the challenging work of setting up mics to record this motley crew. He and I conferred a few times, decisions were made, and things began to take shape. Once Pete was ready, the boys set up and began to play. I sat in an alcove slightly above and beside them, sort of "conducting" and keeping track of where we were in all the songs. One by one they dropped into the pocket, like wild, shining treasure. In a few hours, we were seven songs richer, and exhausted but too elated to stop. We decided to track the lead vocals.
I stayed in the same spot, and the Nephews sat on the ledge or on chairs below me. And I sang these songs like I had never sung them before. Their playing gave me so much energy and inspiration. We all had goosebumps at least once or twice. It was magical. Perfect. And it all happened out in a corn crib in the middle of Iowa...
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/187535541/aunt-g-and-the-stone-city-nephews-cd-and-band-laun
For starters, it was well north of 60 degrees, beautiful clear autumnal blue sky, gentle breeze... And we were recording in Pete Becker's converted corn crib out in the Iowa hinterlands south of Iowa City. I got there a little early and spent some time walking around the yard with my fiddle playing for what few birds were around. John Waite got there next, and we stood outside the studio and played fiddle tunes for 30 minutes until the rest of the crew got there. It was the perfect way to warm up and get in the mood for what was to come.
Once inside, Pete began the challenging work of setting up mics to record this motley crew. He and I conferred a few times, decisions were made, and things began to take shape. Once Pete was ready, the boys set up and began to play. I sat in an alcove slightly above and beside them, sort of "conducting" and keeping track of where we were in all the songs. One by one they dropped into the pocket, like wild, shining treasure. In a few hours, we were seven songs richer, and exhausted but too elated to stop. We decided to track the lead vocals.
I stayed in the same spot, and the Nephews sat on the ledge or on chairs below me. And I sang these songs like I had never sung them before. Their playing gave me so much energy and inspiration. We all had goosebumps at least once or twice. It was magical. Perfect. And it all happened out in a corn crib in the middle of Iowa...
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/187535541/aunt-g-and-the-stone-city-nephews-cd-and-band-laun
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