James A. Reeves
Journal Stories + Essays Books Installations Broadcasts About

Journal

February 1, 2023

Ten years sober today. Proof there’s such a thing as grace.

Journal

January 31, 2023

I don’t mind feeling older. It brings a liberating sense of honesty.

Journal

January 26, 2023

The desert is littered with bizarre facts, and I often think I invented them, like a fragment from a dream or a misremembered film.

Journal

January 10, 2023

Here in Las Vegas, we’re catching the faintest edge of the atmospheric river, a weather event that sounds like something from a fantasy novel.

Journal

January 3, 2023

In the grip of my delirium, I half-watched a lousy Netflix series that can be viewed in any order, which seems like a trial balloon for AI-generated entertainment.

Journal

January 1, 2023

C. and I rang in the new year at the top of Route 93.

Journal

2022 Rotation

My favorite albums this year sounded messier than in years past: scuffed and bruised yet defiant—which sounds like the future.

Journal

December 28, 2022

The unique scent of desert rain has a scientific name, petrichor, derived from the Greek words for stone and the blood of the gods.

Journal

December 27, 2022

Unlike the blank winter grays of the Midwest and East Coast, the clouds over Vegas are well-defined, painterly, and startlingly low.

Journal

December 22, 2022

Las Vegas feels like the future, but I’m also living in the past.

Journal

December 21, 2022

It’s the longest night of the year, and I went for my first Las Vegan run.

Journal

December 20, 2022

Billboards across the panhandle told me to find nirvana, win a free furnace, and invest in crypto.

Journal

November 30, 2022

As we pulled up to our ninth small tan house of the day, “American Woman” rocked the block.

Journal

November 29, 2022

As we consider each room, there is much discussion of orientation.

Journal

November 28, 2022

The Pacific Time Zone is turning me into a morning person, and I do not like it.

Journal

November 27, 2022

There’s something so tranquil about an illuminated palm tree. It’s a science-fictional kind of calm.

Journal

November 26, 2022

Warm Leatherette on repeat as we drive into Vegas.

Journal

November 25, 2022

Heavy art followed by a fingernail moon over the Rockies as we crossed the Continental Divide.

Journal

November 24, 2022

A lone tree becomes exciting. A sign for the National Agro-Defense Facility fires the imagination.

Journal

November 23, 2022

At Cracker Barrel, C. and I discussed Tristan Tzara, Model 500, Basic Channel, and vaporwave over Grandpa’s Country Fried Breakfast.

Journal

November 22, 2022

Making an oldies playlist like it’s 1995 and I’m smoking clove cigarettes while speeding down I-75 to the Packard Plant or Saint Andrew’s Hall.

Journal

November 21, 2022

Overpass graffiti, institutional fuckery, and a solid Joy Division cover.

Journal

November 20, 2022

The strike against nefariousness continues. Mastodon feels wholesome. Veronica Vasicka delivers another top-shelf playlist.

Journal

November 19, 2022

Cold running. Twitter might be dying. The Menu was an okay movie. Digital ghosts.

Journal

November 18, 2022

Five days until we drive into the desert. Illinois and Indiana look like fangs. I should go to bed.

Journal

November 17, 2022

Repetition on a grey November day.

Journal

November 16, 2022

It’s nice to have a new place on the map to romanticize. And William Gibson has nothing on the Catholics.

Journal

November 15, 2022

Good news: Wolf’s Kompaktkiste is still around. Bad news: I’m on strike.

Journal

November 14, 2022

Maybe one day we’ll reach a point when all possible frequencies have been recorded, every combination of words written.

Journal

November 13, 2022

Hopefully there won’t be too many outages on this station while I untangle my nameservers.

Journal

November 12, 2022

For weeks I’ve been grinding through histories of medieval Europe in search of a point of inspiration.

Journal

November 11, 2022

The pulse of distant highway traffic in the rain is the most soothing sound I know.

Journal

November 10, 2022

C. and I spent the afternoon in a dark gallery and tested how our video reflected off different surfaces.

Journal

November 9, 2022

I love driving at night. It feels like a video game.

Journal

November 8, 2022

Today I learned your gun permit is an acceptable form of voter identification, which feels almost too American.

Journal

November 7, 2022

This afternoon I idled behind a white Honda with a crumpled fender.

Journal

November 6, 2022

The end of Daylight Savings Time is my favorite holiday because it brings the night closer.

Journal

November 5, 2022

C. and I are trying to determine our best route to Vegas.

Journal

November 4, 2022

I’d like to live in a world of apologetic gods and talking satellites.

Journal

November 3, 2022

I’ve decided to embrace the upside of insomnia.

Journal

November 2, 2022

We often discuss what would happen if one of us saw a ghost. It might be the most fundamental test of any relationship.

Journal

November 1, 2022

You can almost taste it, that bright metallic sensation that floods the brain when it decides there will be no sleep tonight.

Journal

Future Sweat

The mounted head of a deer gazed down at a golden Buddha and a silkscreen of Audrey Hepburn.

Journal

October 25, 2022

Above a shuttered rest area, a billboard announced “Jesus Christ is the Answer! Call Dan’s Windows & Flooring!”

Journal

October 19, 2022

Last week I logged into LinkedIn to hunt for some design work. Depression hit me in seconds.

Journal

Good Fortune

I keep this one in my wallet.

Journal

Sockets and Flames

Ohio. Sunset: 7:01pm. When I stepped outside this morning, I saw my breath—the first frost of the season.

Interstate Scenes

Hallucinator

Interstate Scene 14: “He thought it was a Civil War ghost,” she said. “But I didn’t start believing in ghosts until a few weeks ago.”

Journal

October 1, 2022

It’s the first of October, and I give praise for proper autumn at last. Deeper nights. Sharper weather. There’s room in the air to think.

Interstate Scenes

Antistatic

Interstate Scene 13: A jumbotron flashed above an overpass, and I held my breath.

Reading List

The Throwback Special

The action unfolds in hotel rooms and hallways, where the hum of the ice machine veers from reassuring to sinister.

Interstate Scenes

Plaza

Interstate Scene 12: Munching a cold french fry, I counted the logos flying around my head.

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