“It was a good moment, the kind you would like to press between the pages of a book, or hide in your sock drawer, so you could touch it again.”
― Rick Bragg, All Over But the Shoutin’

Black Warrior River, Tuscaloosa, AL

I think that what Rick Bragg is talking about here, is a spot of time. I had so many moments during my time in Alabama and Gulf Shores that I wish I could press between the pages of a book, to keep forever and revisit when I needed something to remind me of the beautiful things in the world. Spots of time. 

One of these spots of time was the first and only evening that we spent it Gulf Shores. Laura’s family friends moved there after retirement and were so excited to show is around. I was the only who had never been there before. I am a beach lover, I have never lived more than ten minutes away from the beach and I was still in awe of how flawless the beaches were. Bright white, sandy beaches, bright blue water and bight blue skies. Maybe I have over-used this phrase, but it was like nothing I had ever seen before. I will include some pictures of the beach, and of our sunset boat ride, but I can assure you that pictures do not do it justice.

Sunset on the Florida, Alabama state line.

After dinner that night, we went to a famous bar/music venue called “Flora-Bama”. I’ve been hearing about this place for two years, so it was with great anticipation that I walked into this warehouse of a bar. We walked through a gift shop into a dimly lit, open area. You could smell the ocean and see the sand. There was a 90’s cover band finishing out there set. We kept walking until we ended up in another large, dimly lit room where a classic rock band was playing. This room had a dance floor with a pretty good crowd. I was the youngest person in the room by about 20 years, but I was assured that was because it was a Sunday night during off-season. This whole bar is covered in graffiti from various college football players, and rival college students. Room after room, band after bad; again it was like nothing I’d ever seen or experienced before. I could only imagine what it was like during spring break. The next morning we took a boat to a restaurant called “Tacky Jack’s” where I had the most amazing shrimp and grits for breakfast. As I sat there, right on the water – I kept thinking “how is this my life?”. 

Daniel, Laura and Me at Flora-Bama

Gulf Shores

          So many country songs mention “where the blacktop ends”. I found this place in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. We were driving along and suddenly the road turned into rust colored dirt. For miles and miles we drove on a bright orange dirt road – the color contrasted by the blue sky and setting sun. The trees that lined the road were much shorter than the ones here, but are full, bright and beautiful all the same. We drove up to the tiny house on the river, the sun was just kissing the sky goodbye – there were flowers, candles, and the smell of a delicious fried chicken dinner in the air. We had arrived to the Metcalf’s river side oasis. My roommate/travel companion, Laura’s parents showed us the most genuine southern hospitality. We spent three days eating home cooked meals,  and learning what it’s like to live in the south. We were introduced to people who had lived in Tuscaloosa their whole lives. Their parents had, their parents parents had. The culture was radically different than what I grew up knowing. One of the days we were there, we took a tour of the University of Alabama and got to meet some of Laura’s family. In 2011, there was a severe tornado in the city of Tuscaloosa that killed 64 people, and destroyed so much of the town. Almost everyone we met on that trip mentioned something of it, whether it was recalling the day of the tragedy, or rebuilding of the elementary school down the road. Much like New Orleans, people of Tuscaloosa have turned to music to encourage, morn and process the loss and devastation.

During our time on the river, I read a book called “All Over but the Shoutin’” by Rick Bragg. Rick Bragg was one of Laura’s professors when she was a student at the University of Alabama, and the cousin of her God-father. Laura suggested his nonfiction books to me because his writing is honest, and true to his life growing up as a poor white boy. He recalls with deep revere about his mother, and her strength raising three children by herself. It’s hard not to read this book without hearing his deep southern drawl in your mind. I sat for two days on the Black Warrior river, listening to the sounds of birds, barges and laughter while I read this book. It gave my imagination a break – as I felt like I was already in the setting.

In a lot of ways, his book reminded me of the writing I am doing now, with these blogs – really just recalling and processing real life events; a memoir. In my next post, I will work hard to synthesis all of these experiences and touch more on the connections I have made between history, city, rural and urban sounds. For now, I think it’s important to just remember and reflect on my experiences. While I know this program is not about making value statements on the places we traveled to; I’m going to come right out and say it. I love Alabama. I love all of the people I met, I love how rich in history the city of Tuscaloosa is, I love how different the trees and landscape is, and I love that I didn’t eat a single vegetable the entire time I was there. Everything was different, and beautiful and I would go back tomorrow If I had the opportunity. 

I have written about my first moments in Paris, thought about what the stone on the buildings feel like on my palm, planned return trips to that city of light and warmth, viewed the same old movies depicting Paris and even started a savings so that I may, again, experience new streets and old relics. I’m so obsessed. I do get this way when I return home from anywhere, even after Buffalo. Paris is no different from other cities that leave me with the feeling that I belong there but, it’s also so magical and as long as I don’t visit too often I’m sure it will never let me down.

Destiny’s Green Pen at The Eiffel Tower!

This week I veered from my reding list because I found a book at my library by a French author, Colette. I would have chosen her earlier, instead of “Paris To the Moon” (a wonderful book that I’m nearly half done with) but I didn’t know of her existence until I visited the Pere Lachaise Cemetery. Colette was a famous entertainer and writer but was not exactly a role model for young girls of the time. She was accused of seducing her stepson and she neglected her only child but she was also a real person that, in my opinion, tried to navigate her way through life on the right path. Unfortunately, she seemed to be eternally adolescent, frustrated with the life that society offered women at that time. I can relate to her in many ways (not the perverse or neglectful ways).

Pere Lechaise Cemetary, Colette

Colette, in “The Vagabond” tells about the grief one woman feels at finally being fed up with her husbands affairs and she decides it would be better to be lonely than to be alone in the marriage. Her character, who is said to have much in common with Colette herself, says to herself “to stay would mean to hear people say that she is one who has everything to make her happy” (29). As if to say that a wife does not need freedom to make her own choices. Colette was married three times and had romances with several women, as well, so, whether she was lonely, like her character, is unknown. However, she did seem to keep her independence, which was very important to her. Her character speaks of the strength women have;

“”You can be certain that long patience, and griefs jealousy hidden have tempered and sharpened and toughened this woman till everyone cries “She’s made of steel!” No, she is merely made of “of woman”-and that is enough.””(32)

Esplanade des Invalides-A place for everyone

I have hardly found any information for my research although deep inside me is the answer, I know. I’ve always known. I was the sibling that couldn’t seem to keep up with the rest, partly because of my responsibilities to my disabled sibling. I’m not complaining (Sometimes I do though. And I go on and on. I’m no saint!). I appreciate my situation now. I think Paris takes care of their people differently than we do. It seems to me that they make a place for everyone, which would be nice but, I think there is little choice, compared to the choices we have in the U.S.. While in Paris I looked for signs for children like school and play signs and especially disabled accommodations. There seemed to be wheelchair access into nearly every building (sometimes around the side of a building) but the signs were very small and I don’t think there were many restrooms that could be accessed by the disabled or elderly since most were in basements that were reached by a narrow winding staircase. Of course, if you were to leave the establishment and head toward a major street you would likely find sidewalk pottys. I didn’t see anyone that had a developmental disability so, what could one assume but that it is no place for anyone that is ‘out of the ordinary’. I’m jumping to conclusions, I know, and I plan on finding out more, hopefully proving myself wrong.

Oh look, it’s adorable little armor for children……!Found at Invalidies-Napoleon’s Tomb

For certain, my book this week, is a romance but, it is a romance of a city and of a lifestyle as well as a romance of the heart. As I read, I googled the names of places the character describes that involve her daily life. Some of the places are there, like the Bois de Boulogne, a park in the 16th arrondissement where she takes her dog to run. Other places, like the cafe concert, Empyree Clichy, where she performed, does not exist, at least, not anymore. Eventually she describes the beauty she finds while on her train travels all around France (174-215). The novel saves it’s reputation of being another ‘Harlequin Romance’ by having a feminist turn down the life of luxury to save her independence. This is also different from most romances in that, it touches on the subject of lesbianism. I enjoyed the read but, not necessarily to the end.

Rai

As I began working on my project in Los Angeles, I realized just how much work it would take to chronicle every single thing that I was trying to. To study the real estate alone of the city is not enough, for L.A. is not just one city. Before arriving, I had no idea just how spread out and divided this city was, and how widely distributed power within the city truly was. To go about this task would take much longer than the time allotted in this project. Therefore, in an effort to make my work more manageable I have decided to do a more local effort, studying the neighborhood that I resided in during my stay, which was off of Woodman Avenue by Highway 101.

The neighborhood that I stayed in was off of Woodman on a street called Valleyheart Drive.   Stylistically, the house appeared to be an L.A. take on the American Colonial Revival architectural style, with half brick/half white wood walls, symmetrical windows, and ivy on the walls. What made it seem more L.A. was the car port in front of the house, as well as spots of unsymmetrical aspects, such as the garage jutting out of the side and the fact that the house was a one-story. Although it was a smaller, one story home, any house that close to Ventura Blvd sells for around 1 million dollars, this particular one selling for 1.2 million. But in Los Angeles, you’re not paying for size, you are paying for location (location, location, location, as they say). With easy access to Studio City, Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Laurel Canyon and downtown, this neighborhood has the location to bulk up the price of living.

Back when these suburbs were first built in the 50’s, they were largely white. as the white population began to leave the metro area due to fear of minorities and crime. This phenomenon, called ‘white flight’, occurred in almost every major U.S. city during this time frame. In the 1980’s, white flight occurred again in Los Angeles, and many moved even further north, into the Santa Clarita Valley (Valencia, Newhall, Stevenson Ranch). And even today, white flight has continued to push. With a large Filipino population moving to Valencia, many have resorted to moving as far north as Bakersfield and Lancaster (central California), which is known to be an extremely racially segregated area. However, in the past ten years the white population of Sherman Oaks has jumped nearly 10% in the past ten years (73.8-82% increase) due to the sharp rise of housing prices skyrocketed, as well as the recession happening in 2007. However, historically this area has been mostly white throughout history. As well as this, many in the area work or have worked in the entertainment industry.

For instance, in the house that I was staying in, there was quite a history of entertainment. It was first owned by the Porcaro family. Joe Porcaro was a jazz session musician, who worked on soundtracks for movies, such as Enter the Dragon (1973) and Kelly’s Heroes (1971), as well as with artists such as Pink Floyd, Gladys Knight, Frank Sinatra, The Monkees, and Madonna. His sons Steve, Mike, and the late Jeff Porcaro were also session musicians, but were more popularly known as the band Toto. In fact, the room that I stayed in was the drummer’s bedroom when he was a kid, and apparently, because the room is so far from the master bedroom, he would sneak out of his window at night and go to parties. The studio that they practiced in is still intact (a garage converted into a studio with a vocal booth and many instruments) and is still used for recording.

(the video above was filmed on a rooftop somewhere in downtown L.A………) :))))

The house is now owned by Olivier Ferrand, who I briefly discussed earlier. An immigrant from Switzerland, Olivier moved to L.A. to be a photographer, where he worked for modeling agencies, Penthouse, and shot for some larger concerts. He eventually became a recording engineer, working with artists such as Iggy Pop, Steve Jones (Sex Pistols), Keith Strickland (B-52’s), as well as many other artists. He was also an actor, featured in many films as an extra (most notably the 80’s sic-fi cult classic Xanadu (1980), where he met Olivia Newton John. Although he is retired, he still does recording sessions for various lesser known artists, such as Gary Allen, who had a session while I was staying there. I showed the class a video of his before I departed.

The house has had quite a rich history of Los Angeles entertainment. I found that staying here gave me a perspective that I most certainly wouldn’t have gotten if I had been in a more isolated living quarters, and really helped me begin to and further my engagement with the city.

Sometime during week six I ran into Dave from class last quarter in red square. He and three other guys where hanging out in the sun shine shootin the shit, so I swung by to say hi to Dave. He and the three cats, he told me, are doing an ILC this quarter and he asked me if I wanted to be interviewed what its like being an Evergreen student, also adding at the sight of my guitar if I wanted to record a song as well, I said yes. He texted me later that week informing me that he had reserved four hours in a studio in the media lab under the library for yesterday Friday the 15th 1-5.

So I showed up at one and we got going around 1:30ish and by the end of it had recorded eight songs, with only three first takes of the first track and knocking out the other seven in a single take. I recorded four originals and four covers and intend of making and releasing a demo. It was my third time recording but only second time in a studio and it was my first time doing so on my own.

We miked up the amplifier and ran my vocals through the analogue mixing board before going into the computer. Its pretty cool because the mic I used to sing in to also picked up the amplifier from behind me causing the guitar to sound like two, we put effects on the guitar track and allowed the space where the bleed over happened to act as a “natural” guitar backing under the miked guitars track.

Hes going to spend a few days producing a few different versions of each song and then Ill compile them on to a cd and will begin to distribute them to the class during my presentaion. Yesterday was so much fun and I cant wait to do it again! It honestly was the hardest I’ve worked in a looonnnnggg time. But so worth it.

TRAFFIC JAM IN HALEIWA

On April, 19 Kimani and I took a day trip up to north shore.  While venturing up to Haleiwa for the day, a small town on the north shore of Oahu, I came upon a couple discoveries such as some mural art by Ron Artis, who was an artist and musician that lived in Haleiwa. Also, there was a rally of lifted trucks and lowriders with the Hawaiian state flag trailing in the wind on the back of the trucks.  All of the trucks were parked along side Kamehameha Highway for a long period of time causing traffic to move very slow for several miles.  Moments down the road we pulled over at a breakfast spot in Haleiwa.  As we sat on the deck and ate our food we watched as all the trucks drove by in a line with the flag in the wind. Some of the flags were flipped upside down, representing a sign of distress and a protest towards the American government.  Some locals in the area are not really for Hawaii being part of the United States, and this was just one way of showing it.

I’m not sure exactly what the three hundred plus sovereignty drivers were rallying for, but they sure did put a halt to the traffic.  It was bumper to bumper on the drive up to Haleiwa, mainly due to the large trucks.  It had come to my attention that the government was considering turning the one lane highway into a double lane highway. After talking to some of the locals, I learned that this is one of the ways that the sovereignty group protests.  This was one of the ways the activists in this particular area acted.  After furthering my conversation with the locals I later found out that the kamehameha highway would have a huge negative impact on both the environment and the small town of Haleiwa.

I never got to talk to anybody in the trucks but the locals I talked to told me because the highway is directly next to the Dole pineapple plantation it has a better chance of happening.  One of the major reasons for this is because the Dole plantation has such a large impact on the economy on the island.  The plantation is one of the major tourist attractions on the island, bringing in over a million visitors a year which is a major boost to the surrounding economy. The reason the Dole plantation is a negative in this situation is that because whatever is more beneficial to the economy will probably take place in this region.  Therefore Dole will be the reason that the locals will lose an important part of the town and a lot of their surrounding environment.

Due to the tourist increase at turtle bay, a lot of the sea turtles that come in annually to lay their eggs have started to migrate down to the little town of Haleiwa.  if the construction of the highway started to take place the whole natural cycle of the sea turtle could change dramatically if not end in that certain area which is so close to the road.  One of the reasons i chose to come to this particular region was from talking to other visitors and locals about this amazing experience, therefore by the highway being constructed in this area it will cause a negative impact on tourism for someone such as myself and future tourists coming to the region that can support if not boost the economy.

At the end of the day I was given a lot to think about.  Are Hawaii’s economic issues more important?  Is a little less traffic in a day worth the forced migration of a herd of beautiful sea turtles? At one point while in Haleiwa i had the opportunity to swim with the turtles and to hear nothing but the sounds of the awesome town and nature surrounding it,  Certain things that really stood out were the sounds of the waves crashing all along the shore, the birds sitting in the store fronts, and sound of some street musicians in a near by ally.

Having experienced just a small piece of what the locals are surrounded with everyday, I can understand why they would protest against the highway. Although this conflict is so important to the locals, it appears to be an issue they are fighting alone because there is little to no coverage on the topic.

My stepping stones of my research began from constant reminders when interviewing people in across Honolulu, Hawaii. The first day of exploring/interviewing consisted of people listing the same people in a seeming similar pattern when I asked the question “Who are local or favored artist in Honolulu?” People absolutely answered with good an precisely what I needed giving me a good bit of mentioned locals along with some like Mike Love, Ron Artis and Iz. An some alternative. The bands that occurred the most were through the roots & Rebelution. They are known in Hawaii  and they aren’t even Hawaii Natives, but are respected like so, why is that is what I wondered?  It was all the buzz during that day they were preforming and it was exciting. When I interviewed around briefly with the people of Honolulu they commented mostly with suggestive places where artist would preform. This is where I found the venue ‘The Republik’ and the people who performed at it.

Now ‘The Republik’ is a general admission bar that allows 18+ up age venue with a bar, which meant no drinking, but then again I wouldn’t wanna really want to have drunk anything alcoholic anyway. It’s stage was nice, wide and big enough for the crowd to see an the performer to resonant sound along the space. This venue truly had sound resonating from it! I mean you could hear the music from five blocks away.  The bouncers were as tall giant troll’s off of some magical/fantasy genre like Lord of the Rings or something similar in that manner. I ended up in the middle of this big venue with young adults and adults of mostly the descent of White, Asian & Pacific Islander. To put it in perspective I was one of of few black individuals in the room. Although that’s not a major part of this it should be noted that most of the people in the club were older Asian/Pacific Islanders, but I gotta say this concert was neat.

I didn’t only observe the people in the club, but the music and how it affected them, how it moved them, what it meant to the crowd to hear this music. From what I gathered the crowd generally and excitingly loved ‘Through the roots & Rebelution’ with the same screeches and howlers which each song they played. To be apart of this was  epic because the music moved the musicians & the crowd in a way where they were so comfortable enough to produce a natural emotion of presentation to give a good show while bringing in their own flavor of the indigenous roots. You can see the audience in the video above is feeling the beat & reacting in a calm moving flowing manner to the beat of the music. This came as a clear distinction that the citizen in Hawaii prefer this musical genre more than most. I’m not saying they predominantly listen to reggae and calming music its just seems like a preferred musical taste. Well maybe for just city standards, I believe the indigenous music of Hawaii would have a different take on this. I wouldn’t know enough of that to back anything up to form a opinion about it.

Now looking back on that concert experience, I actually miss it because as I was there I was talking to people left and right hearing things like “these band is so awesome” or “these guys need to just live in Hawaii and preform forever” with this I came to my own realization that these guys & girls are all different genders uniting over experimental indigenous music. It made me think does the type of music that Hawaii like cater to outside musicians the same way it caters to local musicians?  Through the roots is from San Diego, California and Rebelution is from Santa Barbara, California which are outside of Hawaii, but both have treated Hawaii as a home. Hawaii has accepted them, and was also told by many of the adults that they tour and that they absolutely love the cultural aspect of Hawaii and all its inhabitants. They get when preforming in Hawaii. I absolutely would agree by just being in the energy you can sympathize with the musician on stage, his resonate sound becomes your resonate sound is what was thought as I confronted the dance and jig of the music moving through me.

I still think about it from this day…How wonderful it was…

Something I really noticed in New Orleans was what seemed to be a need for identity, something I don’t really see in Olympia. What I mean by Identity is like there, in N’arlens, in all the stores it seemed there where L.S.U(D) merch, or something about Mardi Gras. I suppose because there isn’t much else down there for them other then Mardi Gras and the French Quarter, and the Universities, they really don’t give a fuck about nothin’. Like I’ve said before the streets are neglected and what construction I did see (outside the Quarter) was just standing dinosaurs in sandbox. I suppose Im being objective as an outsider, I do really love it, I would like to go back, but its just a fucked up place. I guess everywhere you go out side of the “Cascadia” region seems like a fucked up environment but it feels like those who cant get out just wallow in their sorrows by fucking and getting disease, drinking to oblivion on the streets (its not illegal to walk around drinking as long as its in a cup or something that wont break… Im going back when I’m 21., I have to say, a lot of people told me to be careful and watch out for hostility, of all the things I really didn’t feel like I was in a hostel city, it felt more sad and pathetic than anything.

(Click to see full pic)

Every city has it’s street art but not every city has its street art on every street like I’ve seen in Montevideo.

Latin America has a rich culture of street art. It’s not illegal and is not considered graffiti like it is in some other countries (U.S.) Most of the art is ripe with cultural and political meaning although the meanings aren’t as obvious to me, an outsider to the city. The emotional meaning, as for all art-forms, speaks for itself. One theme I see in four pictures here are trees and roots connecting people. I love the character/culture street-art contributes to a city and wish there was more of it in American cities.

—————–

Monday, we attended an incredible performance of La Filarmonica at the splendid Teatro Solis. The program was: Alexander Borodin’s Polovtsian Dances, Tchaikovsky’s Variation on a Rococo Theme Op.33 with Stanimir Todorov playing the violoncello solo, and, my favorite, Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade, Symphonic Suite Op. 35. Tickets were 150 Uruguayan pesos, a jaw-dropping $6.00. There was a lively social scene in the lobby with both the audience and the performers who showed up about twenty minutes before the show. When it was time, everyone filed into the concert hall. In Teatro Solis, one must allow an usher to show you to your seat. The ensemble played with a type of freedom and abandon that reminded me of feelings I felt were more potent when I was younger. In this style, the performance lacked the tight-jaws some associate with classical music. The dynamics were constantly in very noticeable flux and not a single audience member dozed, not even the sleepiest. The instruments blended together so well that I believe La Filarmonica of Montevideo rehearses together more than the Seattle Symphony! 

I only makes text posts because we’re threatened with a loss of credit if we don’t (this is gauging the value of learning based off of ones ability to follow directions, no thanks). But the blog site has a maximum amount of data that can be hosted at one time. 100MB. Apparently we live in 1995. I can’t upload anymore music or photographs and this directly conflicts with my prospectus, my ability to construct my education creatively as well as my requirement to post sketches. This is discouraging and I’ve decided to take the path of not giving a f*ck.

Here’s one track (of seven) Eli and I performed in Huntington Beach:

I have a lot more to post and reflect on but I’m over it until the presentations. Playing games with technology is not how I learn.

-Seacrest out.