Richard Swift: Dressed Up For the Let Down

As the plane dropped into holding pattern above Chicago, I was still in Nashville, in my love's bed through the old, ratty headphones I had dug out when I knew I'd be traveling by plane (I get a little nervous about flight) and still worked pretty well. I was held down in Tennessee by a dreamy, lovely collection og songs by Richard Swift called Dressed Up For the Let Down. Nick had burnt the LP for me just before I left, and scribbled on it in an olive green sharpie. I consider our song "Most of What I Know," which I believe is track 04., but the whole album is a comfortable, hangly lullabye, perfect for bovering just above the coast of lake michigan, wishing I were back under the blankets, in the hills, in the right arms, the best arms.

Below, I've posted one of my favorite tracks off this nostalgic, soft carnival rock collection called "Kisses for the Misses." Swift releases on Secretly Canadian Records, and hails from California. He definitely has that dreamy Cali piano alley style, much like the Jon Brion gang (Michael Penn, Aimee Mann) but his lyrics follow the catchy meoldies more faithfully than that clan, who lose some pop credibility with cereberal chatter sometimes. Swift isn't afraid to repeat a short chorus or add in filler for the sake of pop and flow. I appreciate this as, sometimes, I just don't want to dissect meaning and wonder about song origin. These songs are anonymous and happy to be, which makes them so listener-friendly that it's hard not to fall asleep and dream of wandering for the sake of wandering.

Brittany Pisano: Know This Person, She's Cool

Brittany Pisano. I worked with her at the Landmark Century Cinemas for two years, and since have been stalking her Myspace persona like a tiger. Her blogs are witty, her perspective clear and high-focus, cynical and a little vulnerable but mostly hilarious and honest. I have this feeling she would hate to be reading this right now, but I wanted to get her Myspacing out there because I enjoy it nearly every day.

What I like about Brittany's blogging persona (I think she would ask what the fuck I meant by persona) is the fine balance of irony, sarcasm and vulnerability. She's a self professed dork but overtly just cool and she's always finding interesting things to splay in picture on her page. She knows what's up in LA, Hollywood, all the corners of popular culture that make our mouths water no matter how hard we try to look away. I was always fascinated by Brittany's celebrity stories and secrets. And I'm always impressed by her dead pan. She's someone you should check out if you want to know someone cool. Brittany is a clothing designer, an artist, and a fashion diva. What's her style? I guess I would call her a Los Angelesist designer.... urban, chic, vintage, grotesquely beautiful shit. I tried to find her clothing line myspace (Harvest) but lost it somewhere in the Myspace chaos. Still, I recommend digging around for it, and adding her to your Blog Subscriptions. P.S. Brittany also listens to bands that don't exist yet, and she reads only really amazing, classic books or really awful, weird books. This makes her even more intriguing to me.

Paint.NET: Fun With Collage!

paint.NET is the real free Photoshop, I kid you not. I adore having a photo program again that lets me fiddle with collages like I used to when I was a dorky college girl in her dorm room smoking and eating vending machine junk till 4a.m. Not so sure that I've still got the magic, but I started in on the collage above the moment I installed this free program, just t test it out. I honestly thought there'd be compromises and conditions to the freeness, but I am pleased to announced that paint.NET is smooth, easy and capable. Feels just like the old days on Photoshop 5.0, layering randomness until it was ugly, and then starting over again. Give it a try! I high recommend digital collaging as an alternative to Myspace reloading.

If you need creative input or technical advice, just email me at thinkofwinter@yahoo.com

Death Becoming/ Death Be Comin'

Do you want to hear my Heath Ledger conspiracy theory? Do you? Okay, let's just call it the begining of the end hypothesis. Or let's call it the Freddie Mercury Phenomenon. Here it comes: One big, shiny star falls under mysterious circumstances. Something is wrong with his body. Something that might have been porevented. Something that looks a little like this and a little like that, but just can't be determined wholly quite yet. It wasn't a drug overdose? It wasn't scuicide? It wasn't toxicty at all? Was it the pneumonia? It was the pneumonia for Christian Brando. But....? How could a young heart fail in it's dream soaked sleep? ........

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe that Ledger is the first major celebrity to die of an unknown, undiscovered, incurable disease coming on the scene now much like the HIV virus in the early eighties.

Been feeling sick lately? Yea, so have I. So has everyone. Superbugs, chemical warfare, mutating cancers? Who knows what's going on, but I'm going to put this out there now so that, when the time comes, I can say, 'Yea, that's what I fucking thought.'

I mean, what the hell is happening? Why are our bodies failing us at younger and younger ages? Why are our bodies turning against us? Lifestyle? Modernity? Get those stem cells cooking please. So many untimely deaths, so many shocking tragedies. It's almost not shocking anymore.

Why would a 28 year old have a heart attack? You may say the druges, lack of sleep, pneumonia. Pneumonia? Really? Eighty year olds and small third world babies die of pneumonia. I'm telling you people..... We're being stalked by the next big epidemic, and it's breathing on the back of our necks. But, in the words of LeVar Burton, don't take MY word for it.... Go google it. I'm at work, so don't expect any fancy rabbit holes from me today. Go find it yourself, please, thank you.

I WILL give you this link, however, to a Celebrity Unusual Deaths page. Did you know that Tennessee Williams died by swallowing a cap that flew off his bottle of nasal spray? How poetic. And from this senselessness and patheticism, you can click on over to a related Celebrity Last Words page, Just go to Morbidtown on the Moribund Express, right? Face that ultimate fear! That's what I'm doing today.

The morning after Heath Ledger died, my first words were, "This is the first day that Heath Ledger does not exist," and my heart ached for his daughter, Matilda. I will think of them when I am in Brooklyn.

Scientology: RUN FOR YOUR LIF!E

Some of you know how I feel about the Church of Scientology, L Ron Hubbard, and all of the deceipt, manipulation and narcissism that this bastard faith embodies. In light of the newly leaked promo video of Tom Cruise welcoming, lecturing and charging new scientologists with an are- you- with- us- or- are- you- against- us rant that reveals not only a few personal mental issues but an overall attitude that is, essentially, the ugliest part of his "faith," I've decided to post a little TIME magazine article for today's blog.

Read and Be Afraid. And then tell people. So that no one you love will EVER be sucked into this fake religion that was founded by a maniacal closeted gay homophobe with a greedy, cold heart and an INCREDIBLE classic case of clinical narcissism. Please spread the word... and for GOD'S sake, do not give any Scientologist your money for ANYTHING.

Oh, and you can still watch the leaked video (immediately pulled off of YouTube by the Church of Scientology citing "copyright infringement" just after it's leak) at Gawker.com. Just click the asshole above.

The Auteurs

This is Luke Haines. He's a total asshole...

But his music is the stuff of legendary indie, and me being me and pretty clueless, just caught on to what you might call Classic Indie Rock. The Auteurs, which I bring to you here and now, are definitely of this genre, if you ask me. Which you shouldn't. But, consequentially, they're also just perfect soundtrack for a January afternoon in a messy apartment, with a little cold sun streaming in and fat kitty cats walking all over your computer. They're good for dreaming of that grunge-era-esque Euro backpacker you're shooting for in March, or just New York in genral. The old New York. The thumbholes in somebody's thermalway back when or the smell of a soft pack of Camel Lights.....

Where You Can Find Me, and Where You Might Want to Be Found

I obviously never tire of myself. Here are some places you can find me. And I recommend setting up your own profiles too!

shannon @ the Brink/fierystatehotel

shanon @ Myspace/fierystatehotel

shannon @ Amazon Profiles

B.J. Soloy and Matt Larson, Old Friends Feature for the New Year

Two of my friends deserve a little attention.
Your attention. So I'm gonna bring you to them.


He's my friend and one ofmy favorite poets. I will never forget those sopping drunk nights, sitting on the floor and watching B.J. retrieve papers from his backpack, all wrinkled or folded but ready to be read. He let me see all his stuff in those days, but now we're in different states and different lifetimes I think, sometimes. Still, I respect B.J.'s work now more than ever, and I was so pleased to hear by the Myspace wire that he was recently published in an online poetry journal called Diagram.

B.J.'s poetry has always been musical and masterful in its language play, sound and rhythm. Any poem I've read of B.J.'s has been tactile, it's language-image has been so powerful. But what I love about these new pieces is the heart, the humanity and the "I" that only peered around the words before. These published poems are my friend, right there inside. And that makes them that much more beautiful.

The picture of B.J. (left in blue) above is from a goodbye party for friend Matt Larson, a humble,intelligent and beautiful bluegrass musician that left Chicago for Iowa last year. He's one of the sweetest and well-meaning people I know. Matt gets involved with green projects, theater projects and all kids of projects-- the biggest being his haunting musical endeaver, the album Son of Lars. I listened to many of these lonely, lovely tunes sitting with Matt in his attic back in Chicago. I was never so moved by simple tunes or impressed by such complex story. The lyrics are pulled from many different sources, including Norse mythology and tall tales, in the tradition of Folk and Bluegraass, of course. Matt Larson is a classic storyteller, and his voice will break your heart.

B.J.'s now on to Iowa as well. I miss them both, and loved these parties at Danimal's house. This was a rare performance, though. Good times. Go see their work. It's worth it. And not just because they're friends and amazing people. But because I know what's good. Really. I do.

DeYarmond Edison/ Bon Iver Makes for a Bon Hiver Indeed

Let's talk about the kind of music that makes you think you could score an indie film better than the next guy, and even inspires you to start writing the screenplay to something heartbreaking enough to bring the tune to life, bring it to image.

I'm always the last one to discover the next heartbreak kid, but my renewed obsession with David Bazan of Pedro the Lion fame has opened my ear up to a bunch of knive-sharp melancholy these days, and the one that stepped first out of the hype machine to play me a little something to cry to was this guy. Who is he? Well, your guess is as good as mine.

Is he Justin Vernon? Is he DeYamond Edison? Is he Bon Iver? I think he's all of these and, whoever he is, he's my latest sad-eyed minstral. We sit together today, a Monday, and I hug my pillow and rub my feet together and whimper my fears to him, and he strokes my hair with lullabies like. "Flume" or "Skinny Love" over and over, as many times as I ask him to play.

I found it on the Hype Machine. You know the Hype Machine right? Oh, well, you should. Go find Bon Iver, and find anything else you think might be too cool for you to find first. You never know.

Here's a intimate little moment too:

The Church of Lomography

The language used on Lomography.com is classic Euro-perceived American slang, with sometimes cocained enthusiasm and lots of little elbow nudges and asides. It's as if you've stumbled across the website of an Austrian vintage camera-obsessed geek that has just returned from a three day vacation somewhere touristy in America and has picked up some Midwestern, antiquated catch phrases to use on his photoblog, where he personifies his collection of cameras. "I introduce to you Zork, he's an awesome guy!" and "The Diana is mad hip, and she likes zany fun!" is just a little taste...

But you can actually buy these cameras. And this is the official website of the Lomographishe company, yes of Austria, and their line of vintage camera reproductions. The site also sells weird, old, expired and rare "quirky cool color!" packs of film from around the world. They also run a photo upload album for all the lomohraphers out there who want to share their zany photos with the world.

Forget Photoshop. Go manual. It's fairly inexpensive. The Diana+ is fifty bucks, and comes with a complete package of instruction, tripod, a "storybook" (?) and other neato add-ons. If you're traveling, why wait till you get home to desaturate, add film grain, antique or overexpose? These cameras will do it for you randomly, every shot you take. Just pick up some old slide film for your Zork and shoot away on a sunny day, crazy cool American friends!

This kind of novelty photography and camera-shop scavanging community is serious about their collecting and vintage camera photo taking. It's pretty intense. Check it out. I've got my eye on the Diana+...

LOMOGRAPHY

Shelter on The Brink

I've been drooling over this site called The Brink lately, and one of my favorite features on the site is a section called Shelter, which is essentially a virtual open house into any Brink member's home. Brink is an interactive site, but I wouldn't call it a network like the Myspace or the Facebook. It's more like a hub for hungry voyeurs and exhibitionists and the otherwise quirkly, lonely weirdo like myself. There's also a section on style called Brink Moda taht I find intriguing and sometimes humorous.

Basically, The Brink is there to let you know that people are still interesting. Some of them. Out there. There they are. Look at them. And let them look at you. It's only fair.

watch-movies.net

Wow.
I hope this isn't the tiny fly on the cow that kicked the torch that lit the barn that started the Chicago fire or anything, meaning I hope the whole operation isn't shut down immediately after I post this.... which it very well could be, considering Blogger is now affiliated with Google, which is likely affiliated with very bad, powerful people but we shall just have to take that chance because I have to tell you about watch-movies.net.

In my minimized window right now is a pirated, Japanese-subtitled copy of I'm Not There, a film I've been wanting to see for months now since I left my job at the movie theater, where I could see any film that mattered for free. And when I say film I mean film, and when I say free I mean free, and until now this didn't exist on the internet, as far as I knew. Sure, you can use-- what's that file called again? Where it takes a year to download a t.v. episode that may or may not have sound? TIFF? PNG? What the hell is it? I've forgotten. But forget that. Forget the downloading and the compressing and decoding and gambling with viruses. Because now, you can watch new, cinema-release films like you're watching a bow-tied terrier say it's ABCs on YouTube.....

Simply go here. And don't anybody I told you.

Color Hunter

Shannon at nineteen sits alone in her dorm room night after night until 4a.m., teaching herself basic HTML and CSS styling, designing version 1.2 2.0 3.3, trying to smooth out the perfect color palette over navigation, iframe, table. If only she had found something like color hunter to help with that harmonious color theme.

Upload or Google a jpeg of favorite magazine art, painting or photograph, and the generator pulls out the color palette and translates it into HTML code, you know like #993333. That's my favorite web color. There's also a tagword search at the bottom of the page that can search the web for pictures of, say, "Paris" or "starfish" or "yerba mate." Give it a try.

Note: I also used Color Hunter when I wanted to paint the rooms of my new apartment, and wasn't sure what colors would look best with my stuff. I simple uploaded pictures of the wall art I own (a Dali print, an antique map of Paris, a few favorite movie posers) and let Color Hunter show me that my living room would look best a deep, dusty blue. Well played, computer generator.

Marianne Nowottny

I came across an artist I had never heard of before on The Brink today, and wanted to share the find. Marianne Nowottny is her name. And I thought, after reading a review likening her to Kate Bush, that she would be yet another in a long line of young, overencouraged mediocre women making run-of-the-mill pop rock, and trying to howl, tremble and snarl through the fancy production quality just like one of their predessesors; those queens of early nineties woman-rock who paved the way for forgettable, lyrically immature shit to flood top 40 radio for years. Thanks Kate, Tori, Bjork, PJ and Liz. Truth is, there will be no one like you. But the refreshing thing about Marianne Nowottny is: she's not trying. This girl could have been Warhol's pet, she's so pretty-ugly and bad-good. Is that a drawn on beauty mark above her smirky mouth? Is that a Casio? Is that her real name? Fabulous. How New York. I adore.

Look her up on myspace, or Google her. She's something else. I find her experimental piano/string work mesmorizing, and her voice vintage and fragile. Her new album is definitely more pop than world easy listening, so that will be nice. Here's a vid of one of the new tracks:

The Dollar Store

I love visiting the local Dollar Tree every week or so to check out what's new. The Dollar Store could be the new Thrift Store, if the indie kids could just get past the corporate aspect and the less eccentric store staff. But while they pack themselves into their little vintage shops, I will comfortably stroll the aisles of the nearest dollar heaveb, humming to rediculous pop country and routing through piled shelves for treasures. Here are a few things I found today.





Vintage storybook style Peter Rabbit notepads.
Great for jotting down spontaneous poems or grocery lists.
I carry one in my purse at all times.



Great big bag of generic ballpoint pens.



Amazing DVD...



Winter scarves. The colors were cooler in person,
but you get the idea. One dollar, and you get warm.




Ceramic frames. Look just like Grandma's,
and they're a dollar. Vntage chic decor
up in here.