January 2022
Decivilization
Sunset: 5:45pm. Grey skies and light flurries with dangerously cold temperatures on the way. Meanwhile at the library, a middle-aged man is braying about spreadsheets.
Hiroshima, Mon Amour
Lovers speak in monologue and monotone. They thrash and sulk in shadows. They repeat themselves while gazing into the middle distance of the emotionally detached.
Middle Path
Ohio. The snow outside my window is melting as soon as it piles up, and there might be a lesson here.
Midwinter Inventory
Ohio. Blank skies, single-digit temperatures, and the sun goes down at 5:38pm. Here in the Middle West, I’m filling the quiet with books and music, absorbed by text and sound in ways I haven’t felt in years
Winter Robots
Sunset: 5:34pm. Clear skies with highs in the mid-thirties, and it finally snowed last night.
Cusp of Things
Ohio. A grey Sunday with the possibility of snow. They’re calling it a “Saskatchewan screamer,” this weather system moving across the Tennessee Valley.
We Need New Gods
An old track that I made from a pair of half-speed classical loops, a lot of reverb and crackle, and a touch of Joseph Campbell
Tomorrow’s Gods
Ohio. Cloudy skies, no snow, and a high of 43 degrees. There’s an old Roman maxim that fear gave birth to the gods.
A Low Rumble
Ohio. There’s a waxing gibbous moon and omicron everywhere. Ronnie Spector died today.
Rewind
Ohio. Another frigid and atmospherically pointless day without any snow. My brand new cassette tape arrived.
Word Count
Ohio. Wind chills in the single digits and still no snow. If I’m not paying attention, I can push commas around for hours.
17 Minutes Remaining
Ohio. The grey skies of January continue, the moon is in its first quarter, and I bought a tiny telephone.