after crossing the atlantic ocean and seven time zones, only to arrive nine hours later with only two noticeable hours gone on my watch, my head was heavy and eyes were hazy. i jumped the el train to my friend’s apartment which is a spacious subterranean and rather windowless dwelling to make any bear with a desire to hibernate quite content. it’s been two days in this basement and i’ve watched five movies, read part of a book and a whole early may edition of rolling stone magazine, and have used the available laptop to email at leisure.
my only ventures outside have been to get food(twice) and to see a band called “devil in a woodpile” at a bar called the hideout. a no-frills dive, the hideout has an unrare old style beer sign poorly displayed out front and pabst blue ribbon drinking clientele. the three piece group which rotated a couple of its members, though maintained a trio, played a fine southern fried country style rag blues incorporating guitar, upright bass, washboard, harmonica, clarinet, and washtub bass. they put on a fine show with some solid gravelly belting by the main singer and washboard ricketyracker, swilling tall rolling rocks between numbers.
maybe i’m taking time to digest the loads of information i’ve collected in my two months of european travel, but though an impulse to do some form of work nags me internally, instead of motivation i’m temporarily cultivating hibernation.
Metalsmith Studio