MANHATTAN AS AN ISLAND

It's easy to forget that Manhattan is an island. Just a couple of minutes under ground and a few dozen ears popped per subway car leads you to a metropolis so totally different, it is in its own state of being. Some will look at it and grasp it by the horns while others will be overwhelmed, yet often in awe and fascination. 

As I said before it is easy to forget that New York is an island, for it is so serene in its constant bustle, and yet manages to stay stable and forever present.

Some will walk past its less prominent treasures without a second glance, while others will stand back and experience. What makes New York what it is is not the island itself, but the people and hot canteen of soup that is its culture; a pocket full of odds and ends accumulated on the east end of a massive country. Five burrows connected by bridges, land masses, and character, not available any where else in the world

It is often easy to forget that Manhattan is an island - because it is not the island that makes New York what it is, but the presence, the feeling, the people, the endless bustle and the self serenity that at times to the common New Yorker will often seem nonexistent. 

I love Manhattan.

Recommended listening that relates to the subject matter of this post:

Octoberman - I Know A Nurse

Islands - Vapours

The Kills - What New York Used To Be

WHERE THE CUTE THINGS ARE

Every time I see the trailer for Where The Wild Things Are I cry. Every time, guaranteed. And I am not the cry-whenever-I-see-a-remotely-sad-and/or-touching-scene-in-a-movie-type. The only other movie I'm ever really guaranteed to cry whilst watching is Cast Away. Every time Tom Hanks loses Wilson in the ocean I start to tear up. 

But that being said, by the time the little kid is announcing "Starts October 16th" at the end of the WTWTA trailer I am blindly reaching for a tissue. I think it's the sentimental mixture of childhood memories and Arcade Fire that sends my heart in a whirl, and because of this mind-numbing effect I am now desperate to go see said movie. Desperate. 

LA FRATERNELLE

Saint-Claude is the capital of the pipe. Magon is happy to visit it.

One century ago, a lot of factories of pipes were running the city (now only 2 remain), also the polishing of diamonds. Facing hard life of work and strong winters, the workers were meeting in this "House of the People", La Fraternelle (name that I can roughly translate by "The Fraternal"), to make their life better : common food, reunions, art, brotherhood...

Their heads were on coal

Grandaddy Jean-Jaurès still looking after the people in the court

The gig was really nice, in this beautiful grand room with the mountains as a background.

We felt at home, and the people there received us like close friends, linked by this belief in music and art (and good food) as true ways of upgrading humanity. Winters stay hard, so does the feeling of fraternity.

We believe in signs. This time in this factory mountainous city is totally connected with our new ideas and themes of the songs we are composing nowadays. As I often say, making Magon laugh a lot, everything is connected...

Charlotte

*****

Charlotte & Magon sent me this today, and I'm glad they had fun.

WRITER'S BLOCK

Every week I come up with a new story. A new idea. A new movie plot. The theme to a tale I've been mulling over in my head for weeks on end. An ending scene to a movie I remember first imagining a year ago. Characters are often loosely based on actors I enjoy like Jason Schwartzman or Joel McHale. The plots range from alienated families to Jewish violinists. 

A nerdy but incredibly smart boy who becomes student council president at his local high school. Eventually he becomes corrupt with power and is expelled, while subplots carry on throughout the story until its end, where the boy reflects on all of his mistakes. A man who's nightmares intertwine with reality, to the point where the line is blurred beyond belief. He is eventually restrained at a mental hospital, which serves to only worsen his nightmares, and completely wash away the imaginary line between reality, and dream. These are just a few.

Nonetheless, there is still the every present Writer's Block. I will capitalize it because I believe it is an illness that can be treated. By treatment I mean a walk, a shower, a vacation, a nap. Something that will help the mind stray out of the hole it fell into. I often get Writer's Block when I've toasted two slices of theoretical bread, possibly spread on some mayonaisse, but can't find the tuna. By tuna I mean the theoretical meat of the story: dialogues, meeting places, filler-uppers. What would the main character do in this situation? What would the love interest say to comfort him or make him feel like crap? What would the Mexican sidekick do when shot in the arm at a bodega? Let's think.

Recommended listening that relates to the subject matter of this post:

Soul Coughing - Screenwriter's Blues

SING SANG SUNG

My new favorite music video for my new favorite song. Directed by Mrzyk & Moriceau, sing sang sung by Air.

NEEDLES

I have a great fear of needles. When I was younger, however, I used to be fine. Fearless, per say. I was as nonchalant about blood tests and vaccines as I was going about my daily business, which didn't consist of much, being that I was five years old. 

After a painful doctor's visit when I was around seven years old, I have since strongly feared needles. It was a blood test gone wrong - though the red fluid was eventually extracted, it's cost was greater than expected. The doctor missed my vein several times, arguing that I would not stop moving, though I had sat still the entire time. 

Since that day the fear of needles and blood, especially mixed, has sent a chill down my spine. "I have a great fear of needles" may be exaggerating, being that I have mostly conquered my fears by now, but I still have trouble taking vaccines, and squirm in my seat when I see that needle filling up with blood. The worst part is the build up - possibly having to squeeze a ball tightly or having a rubber band wrapped around my arm - because that is when my heart rate rises considerably. 

Fortunately, I have not had to take a blood test or a vaccination in a while, and after years of putting up with the needles and blood and maturing all the way, my fear has greatly lessened. I can now watch a gory horror movie without flinching! My favorite part in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" is still that scene where the Black Knight is chopped to pieces by King Arthur and his blood spurts in fountains as he proudly proclaims "It's just a flesh wound!"

Acupuncture's still something I will never put myself through though. I don't care how many Chinese people say it works wonders, there isn't a snowball in hell's chance I'll become this guy at any point in my life.

Recommended listening that relates to the subject matter of this post: 

Grand Salvo - Needles

Project Jenny, Project Jan - Pins and Needles (w/ Fujiya & Miyagi)

I'LL BE GLAD

Greetings blogging community. All you little guys that know how to work the "interweb." I am back and have had possibly the best summer in a very long time. After taking a long vacation from Danish Poet, I thought now would be the best time to get back into the swing of things. 

I have an immense amount of emails to check and read and reply to, being I haven't taken a look at my inbox in a month. As I was sifting through the countless messages today I found a lovely video described best as:

"... a Brooklyn band's attempt to promote for a residency at Piano's in a unique way...pretty sweet (literally sweet, as in will make you smile and want to eat cake)."

I think it is safe to say that this video, made by the Brooklyn indie boys Akudama, did put a smile on my face, as well as give me quite a craving for cake.

Thanks for the tip, Falon.