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Timeslip. A post I wanted to make on the day, but couldn't for several technical reasons. I suppose it more or less won't matter; it'll be properly Arranged. Here, then:
It's October 31st, 2010, several hours before the REDCAT performances of The Fifty Year Sword. My traveling companions and I have driven from the heart of Georgia, encamped just southwest of the REDCAT, and have been traversing the city by foot and train for the better part of the last 48 hours.
Gathering our things for the shows, one of us decided to excurs herself to the Fashion District, where she happened upon the Cat Hats I summoned on the way into LA. We had pointed up the road, saying "Let's meet there, at that Tea Leaf."
Once there, we realized it was on the corner of 9th and Hope.
Here we are:
IMG_2827 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
Oh, and the signs a little more clearly, a little more fiercely (that's me on the right):
IMG_2824 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
And I won't go into the fervor of that time, of the connections sprunging up everywhere; we talked and read and noted and listened ceaselessly for several days, mostly about Danielewski's books, and the results of those conversations are slowly trickling onto the forums.
I won't bring too much attention to the hoarseness of voice that the barista shared with me. That she might have been named Gracie Redwood. That everything seemed entirely too... Dark Tower, frankly. All parts aligning. All paths ordered. Ka-tet assembled. How I had to get snipsnipscissors to release the parallel lines of honey for my tea. No big deal.
There are... so many things I won't elaborate on right now. Now, it's just show-and-tell. A few more pictures to show you. Do you mind?
There's this courtyard, somewhere between our hotel and that tea
. A big business building. Apparently it's illegal to photograph tall buildings, since the World Trade Centers were photographed destroyed by airplanes, or even to photograph the art surrounding a tall building, as a zealous security guard was repeatedly reluctant to inform us. However, these photographs were obtained, at great personal risk, for the benefit of the forum.
In this courtyard, a collection of artworks co-created by pairs of visual artists and poets. Beautiful pieces in and of themselves. When considered in a haze of revolutions and cats, they took on additional meaning. I wonder what you think of these pieces?
The whole set is here, with much more interesting material:
A few choice samples:
IMG_2762 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
IMG_2764 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
IMG_6852 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
IMG_2773 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
This enormous iris hovered over a pit of commerce, and at night was illuminated by thousands of blue points of light.
IMG_2795 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
And, most pertinently, one of a set of three gold silhouettes:
Like you, glad worker, the cat hungers before noon. by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
And, in closing:
IMG_6882 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
There's much more, potentially, to say, but I'm trying to overcome my own inertia and backlog of potential posts and live presently. In today. Which is October 31st, 2010.
It's October 31st, 2010, several hours before the REDCAT performances of The Fifty Year Sword. My traveling companions and I have driven from the heart of Georgia, encamped just southwest of the REDCAT, and have been traversing the city by foot and train for the better part of the last 48 hours.
Gathering our things for the shows, one of us decided to excurs herself to the Fashion District, where she happened upon the Cat Hats I summoned on the way into LA. We had pointed up the road, saying "Let's meet there, at that Tea Leaf."
Once there, we realized it was on the corner of 9th and Hope.
Here we are:
IMG_2827 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
Oh, and the signs a little more clearly, a little more fiercely (that's me on the right):
IMG_2824 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
And I won't go into the fervor of that time, of the connections sprunging up everywhere; we talked and read and noted and listened ceaselessly for several days, mostly about Danielewski's books, and the results of those conversations are slowly trickling onto the forums.
I won't bring too much attention to the hoarseness of voice that the barista shared with me. That she might have been named Gracie Redwood. That everything seemed entirely too... Dark Tower, frankly. All parts aligning. All paths ordered. Ka-tet assembled. How I had to get snipsnipscissors to release the parallel lines of honey for my tea. No big deal.
There are... so many things I won't elaborate on right now. Now, it's just show-and-tell. A few more pictures to show you. Do you mind?
There's this courtyard, somewhere between our hotel and that tea
. A big business building. Apparently it's illegal to photograph tall buildings, since the World Trade Centers were In this courtyard, a collection of artworks co-created by pairs of visual artists and poets. Beautiful pieces in and of themselves. When considered in a haze of revolutions and cats, they took on additional meaning. I wonder what you think of these pieces?
The whole set is here, with much more interesting material:
A few choice samples:
IMG_2762 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
IMG_2764 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
IMG_6852 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
IMG_2773 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
This enormous iris hovered over a pit of commerce, and at night was illuminated by thousands of blue points of light.
IMG_2795 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
And, most pertinently, one of a set of three gold silhouettes:
Like you, glad worker, the cat hungers before noon. by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
And, in closing:
IMG_6882 by N. O. Splendorr, on Flickr
There's much more, potentially, to say, but I'm trying to overcome my own inertia and backlog of potential posts and live presently. In today. Which is October 31st, 2010.
, it becomes something else entirely? Like, fear is making those decisions, but then it becomes integrated into the systems, and the guy on the ground is just carrying out orders, he's not afraid of me with my little camera and my tiny backpack, but he's still trying to convince me that it's for our safety that I can't be a tourist and photograph art for further consideration later.
?
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