The luckiest.

While at work today, I received an email from my boyfriend (Captain Amazing) that included a link to the video below, and said:

"This reminds me of you for a bunch of reasons. It's from the south, it's beautiful, artistic, complex and admirable. Just to name a few."

Aside from indulging in how unbelievably sweet my boyfriend is, I couldn't not seize the opportunity to share this beautiful video and project. The video is apart of a campaign to raise money for an artist's work, entitled Boxcar Fair. I've included information "about the project" and a link to the pledge page below the video - if you are so inclined to support this beautiful and poetic work of art.



ABOUT THIS PROJECT

Hello. Thank you for taking time to look at our project.

My name is Brock Scott. I am an Atlanta based artist / musician who lives for making cool things. I love using collaboration as a way to bring different artists and mediums together in creative ways. I studied sculpture in college and while there became really interested in artists who create unique kinetic systems in their work. i.e. Arthur Ganson and Theo Jansen who were artists that took the ideas of traditional mechanical engineering and adapted their own style to how we have perceived things to work. You could imagine how ecstatic I was to find that one of the most amazing kinetic sculptors I have ever seen lived just down the street! His name is Tom Haney. Tom is an artist who creates beautiful automata vignettes depicting figures performing random and often beautifully mundane actions. The delicateness of the pieces mixed with Tom’s amazing craftsmanship and ingenuity creates a window into his intricate world.

5 months ago, I approached artist Tom Haney with an idea for a unique project that was part puppet show, part kinetic sculpture, part musical performance and immortalized on film. I called it Boxcar Fair. The piece will follow a wandering explorer who stumbles upon a magical fair in the middle of a desert.

The explorer interacts with many characters along his journey including a giant anglerfish a fortuneteller an ornate elephant an enchanted mouse and a high diving dame, each of whom is more fanciful and elaborate than the last.

The video will last the duration of one song (approx. 2:30) that my band, Little Tybee, will compose and record. The entire sequence will be shot in a single take, with no cuts, panning from left to right (Similar to the platform view of the Super Mario Brothers game). The set itself would be approximately 45 feet long. The camera will be mounted on a robotic motorized dolly fixed to a rail that allows filming the entire length of the set smoothly. Tom and I are extremely motivated and itching to bring our vision to life. We have hired an amazing artist from LA named Ram Bhat to paint the backdrop for the entire 45 foot long set. Ram Bhat is a truly incredible artist and has worked on many amazing projects collaborating with Bjork, Black Eyed Peas, Greenday, Ozzy Osborn and Nintendo just to name a few. Ram has a very unique style that will compliment Tom’s figures and our musical score perfectly.

We have received amazing support from the local puppet and artist community and from the center for puppetry arts here in Atlanta. We are getting incredibly close to finishing this project but are asking for your help in raising funds to make sure this project will reach the potential we think it deserves. The money that you donate will go towards materials needed to finish the set, supplies needed to make the puppets, paying all of the artists involved in making this vision come to life and reserving a space large enough to house our ambitions. With your help, lets make something beautiful together.

Thank you.

You can follow the progress of the project here.
You can pledge a small (or large) amount to the project here.

Hurry up, I must be dreaming.

I first discovered the French electro-dreampop god M83 (aka Anthony Gonzalez) back in 2005 with the release of his Teen Angst EP. Suffice it to say, I fell head over heels with his uniquely electrifying stylings - and every day since, I continue to fall further. Much to my overwhelming excitement, it was recently announced that M83 will release his new double (that's right, I said double) album, Hurry Up, We're Dreaming on October 18, 2011. For a taste of what's to come, I suggest listening to the track below, which it just so happens, that you can also download the track 'Midnight City' for FREE right here, right now.

M83 (aka Anthony Gonzalez) will release his new double album, Hurry Up, We're Dreaming on October 18, 2011.

Oh, and to my fellow Los Angelinos, M83 will be playing at the Music Box on November 9th...you can bet your sweet buns I'll be there.

Midnight City by M83

If you keep spinning the dime...

Eventually it will land heads up.

This, unlike many other things, will never, ever grow tiresome to me.

Last night I lost a family member.

(I took this photo 3 weeks ago.)

Thank you for 15 1/2 years of nothing but friendship and love, Boo. As a dog, you'd never understand the joy you brought to our lives, and that is something we will carry in our hearts forever.

Caught in an underlie.

Disclaimer: Let it be known that I don't post this to pass any judgment. Well, that's entirely false. But, what I mean by that is, that I mean no harm to the parties involved.

Fact: I've never watched one single episode of Glee.

This is a badge I wear with honor. It's true; I was/am a theatre geek myself (seeing as I acquired one of my undergrad degrees in said subject), even musical theatre, as much as it pains me to admit. However, I feel like a good bit of theatre is more or less identifiable as "fluff" and I really have no interest in anything that exists solely for the purpose of my mindless entertainment. (I appreciate the reality that most people don't feel this way.) There have been times where I have been moved in inexplicable ways by certain theatrical "acts" so to speak, even musical ones - depending on which ones we're referring to - therefore, I know firsthand that something seemingly vapid can have layers of depth hidden between it's foundational cracks. Yet, I find myself consistently resistant to the pop-cultural trend that is Glee, and therein lies the true answer to my resistance. I'm much more apt to remove myself from anything (or anyone) that appeals to the masses, for (lack of a better quality) a self-admittedly sense of superiority in taste. This is not to say that reaction is always well deserved - in fact, I'm fully aware that it's probably to my own disadvantage - and very well may be the case in my case of Pundit VS. Glee.

As luck would have it, one of the facets of my job landed me face to face with an interview that one of my co-workers did with a Glee cast member at last night's Golden Globes.

I felt like everything about this particular interview embodied my ongoing distaste with this show that I, as I stated before, have never seen one episode of.

I will not name the actor, not only out of respect for partial-anonymity, but also because I don't have the slightest freaking clue who this kid is, anyway. All I know about him is that someone coached him on how to answer in sound-bytes, instead of speaking in complete thoughts, and that he was too much of a piece of shit to take off his pink-rimmed hipster sunglasses while answering questions about his Award winning show.

Actor: “Well I think there’s a lot of basic um, ideas that Glee really celebrates and that is sort of all-inclusiveness and acceptance, and then you throw on the garnish of songs, and music and dance which transcends language and ideology and I um think it’s a worldwide success because people really respond with this very carnal celebration of life and basic values, so uh, I think it’s really great that people have responded well to it because that tells me that the world’s in a really cool place."

Listening to it was probably worse than reading it, or at least that's what my initial reaction of horror makes it seem like, before I - to my own surprise- settled in to listen more closely. I liken it to like walking into a dirty bathroom stall where the walls are covered in crap stains smeared on top of Nietzsche quotes. His response was not well-delivered and his point was not well made, but if you swim through the sea of structural sludge, you can clearly uncover the meaning of what he is saying. It's a good reminder to myself that just because something comes in a personally objectionable package, that perhaps it doesn't deserve to be dismissed.

Perhaps I'll watch an episode of Glee. Or perhaps I'll at least consider it.

By far my most anticipated film of the upcoming year.

Sorry suitors, but this heart belongs to Terrence Malick.

2010: Hear in Review.

In a year of phenomenal album releases such as --

High Violet (The National)
The Suburbs (Arcade Fire)
Teen Dream (Beach House)
Astro Coast (Surfer Blood)
Gorilla Manor (Local Natives)
Sigh No More (Mumford & Sons)
The Winter of Mixed Drinks (Frightened Rabbit)
The Violent Blue (Electric President)
I Learned the Hard Way (Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings)
Disconnect from Desire (School of Seven Bells)
The Orchard (Ra Ra Riot)
and so many more...

-- it's an incredibly difficult feat trying to narrow down the best album of the year. I don't envy editors having to publish their pick by this weekend's deadline. That being said, the past few years, I've challenged myself into compiling a mixtape of my top song picks for the entire year, which has ended up being a much bigger pain in my butt than I care to unload in this space. But, I've finally narrowed down my top 16, with one slot to spare, in preparation for distributing the mixtape amongst my dearest pals (and any others who've requested their own cherished copy.)

It was beyond hard to make the final selections, but alas, it has arrived.

Track Listing (in no particular order-though the order will be finalized before the mixtapes are signed, sealed and delivered):

1. Norway - Beach House
2. Heat & Hot Water - Arms
3. Old Man - Harry's Gym
4. Numbers Don't Lie - The Mynabirds
5. Rococo - Arcade Fire
6. Bloodbuzz Ohio - The National
7. Mouthful of Diamonds - Phantogram
8. Wide Eyes - Local Natives
9. Bullfighter Jacket - Miniature Tigers
10. Promises - Morning Benders
11. Little Lion Man - Mumford & Sons
12. Windstorm - School of Seven Bells
13. World Sick - Broken Social Scene
14. Majik Marker - Mini Mansions
15. Twenty Two - Wakey! Wakey!
16. Blue Blood - Foals
17. **TBD**

Honorable Mentions go to:

- Little Golden Age (Wolf Parade)
- Barlights (Fun.)
- Pittsburgh (We Are Scientists)
- The Ghost Inside (Broken Bells)
- On the Line (In Grenada)
- Willis (Sea of Bees)
- Ambling Alp (Yeasayer)
- Safe and Sound (Electric President)
- On Trees and Birds and Fire (I am Oak)
- Phenomenons (Twin Sister)
- Walking Through That Door (Future Islands)
- Kids (Sleigh Bells)
- Mr. Peterson (Perfume Genius)
- Black Crow (Angus & Julia Stone)
- Curves of The Needle (Field Music)
- Journal of Ardency (Class Actress)
- The Curse (Josh Ritter)

Of course, there was an immeasurable amount of incredible music released this year, and I can only skim the tip of the iceberg here.

Can't wait to see what 2011 has in store. My ears eagerly await.

C.

And on a personal note.

Just because he's my big brother, doesn't mean I can't be proud of him.

He put together a wonderfully directed promo for his new wine bar, Red Red Wine, opening in Annapolis this May.

Your New Wine Bar ... from Red Red Wine Bar on Vimeo.

Not to mention, the Washington Post did a spread on his career as a DC news anchor and newly found entrepreneur: http://wapo.st/cjB2e4

My j-o-b.

I know I haven't mentioned it much here, but as of June, I started a new venture in the TV/Film industry.

SO, here's the cliff-notes version: I now work full-time as a producer for an entertainment production company (here in Los Angeles) that is in the process of launching a new "under the umbrella" sub-company. The new project is an ipad/iphone app and website that provides short-form entertainment news blasts and original segments. Additionally, the main company is the west-coast/Hollywood affiliate for Canal Plus Spain, a popular cable network in...you guessed it...Spain. Basically, what that means for my part is that I get to do international press junkets, interviews, etc. (for upcoming films), which has already turned out to be pretty interesting.

Some of the segments are typical entertainment news format, but others...well, we're working on exactly how much creative wiggle room we're going to afford ourselves. So far, it's been an incredible ride and I'm ridiculously lucky to be a part of this process.

ANYWAY, my new job covers a lot of different ground; one of those facets being that I often do voice-overs for the segments that I write and produce. Yeah, that's right; you will now get to hear my charming coos in the palm of your hand (iphone) anytime you please. BUT, the entire point of this entry, and I'm pretty sure the question on your mind as well as mine, is WHERE THE HELL DID MY SOUTHERN ACCENT GO?

Jinglin and-a janglin.

The past two weeks have been unfathomly (overwhelming)(busy)(exciting) so I haven't had much time to post, much less share all the (amazing) (wonderful) changes that my life has suddenly made. More on this subject will appear soon, pinky swear.

For now, I'll share my recent music review for the company with which I'm now writing editorials. I was very happy to recieve this particular assignment, since it was one of my favorite albums last year.


Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros,
Up From Below


The debut release from Los Angeles based Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Up From Below, was a sure fire top 10 of ‘09 pick for any hardcore hippie loving indie fan. For the virgin listener, this album poses an assorted collection of sounds, never defining which turn they’ll take next, but rousing a sense of enchantment and unquestionable confidence that it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

Starting off with a bang, the album’s opener, “40 Day Dream” evokes memories of Arcade Fire’s dynamic debut album Funeral; complete with clapping, steady rhythms, strings and compelling lyrics, “She’s got jumper cable lips, she got sunset on her breath now, I inhaled just a little bit, now I got no fear of death now.” Slightly seasoned with the flavor of the 1960’s and backed by a group of roughly 12 musicians, it’s an engulfing kick start that inspires curiosity of what’s to follow.

Ala the immortal style of Polyphonic Spree, “Janglin” opens with a childlike chorus of “mms” and “pops” that eventually intertwine with the song’s refrain, yet somehow each vocal manages to maintain their own anomalous quality of sound. A playful beat only adds to the enjoy ability of the song while impressively balancing heavy piano chords and strong horn interludes. “Janglin” takes a room that’s stacked full of vocals and instruments, then spits out a sound that’s perfectly clear; each element standing on it’s own to build an absolutely encompassing sensation.

The fifth track, “Home,” is undeniably the album’s Ace of Spades. An old-timey folk jam that connects co-ed vocals, horns, acoustic guitars, slap-happy beats, whistles, hoots & hollers with drippingly sweet lyrics like, ‘Home is where I’m with you.' “Home” carries a sense of happiness and simplicity that simply can’t be matched.

It’s tempting to peg this album as falling into indie-folk or alt-country, but let’s not forget the album’s esoteric magic carpet ride, “Desert Song” or “Black Water” in which Ebert’s haunting vocals at times seem to channel the late, great Elvis; or even the Spanish sung “Kisses over Babylon” or “Om Nashi Me,” a Sanskrit chant song. With so many twists and turns, it’s impossible to nail the endless depth of this album to any particular pseudo-genre.

Consistently throughout the progression of Up From Below, each track sustains an air of magic and mystery, and maintains a dizzying sense of wonder, even at it’s darkest moments. With each song acting as a chapter of it’s own, Up From Below is less of a collection of songs, and more of an adventurous storybook that keeps you turning the page, eager to discover where it will take you next.

Album Review - Copyright © Caroline Bolter, 2010.

Lately.

It's not much, but it's all mine.

I recently was asked to write a review for an online music community that focuses on independent artists and labels. As excited as I am, I'm already feeling the pressure of writing something that I exchange for actual non-Monopoly money. I am completely aware that I have a long way to go in terms of skill, as music reviews are really an art in themselves, with a specific style and nuance different from straightforward editorials.

I've been instructed that ordinarily I will be seeking out indie artists to review on my own, but this time I was given the specific assignment of reviewing Tokyo Police Club's latest LP, Champ. As I close my eyes and jump blindly into a world I'm unsure of, I offer to you, my first review :


"It's good to be back..."

A well anticipated follow-up to their 2008 LP, Elephant Shell, Tokyo Police Club's latest release, Champ, has already proven itself to be a title-worthy winner.

Opening track "Favourite Food," sets the album's tone, but sneakily not until the second half of the song. There's a detectable hint of growth right off the bat as it transforms from a simple intro track into a delicious up tempo pop tune. Even though the formula seems recognizable (gradually building rhythms and upbeat tempos) it's easy to anticipate that each song to follow will be a step away from the TPC we're already so familiar with.

It's hard not to play along once the toe-tapping beat strikes up in "Bambi," an electro-pop mix that combines impressive guitar melodies, clever hooks and start-stop rhythms into a well-blended dance anthem. Don't be surprised when you find yourself clapping along in triplicate form before even finishing the first go-round.

"Your only souvenir is a suitcase full of sand...But when you feel like you're a million, then I feel like I'm a grand," Monks croons in the crush worthy "Hands Reversed." The album's most ballad-esque track is as devastatingly gentle as a warm summer breeze, carrying a sound reminiscent of days spent blowing dandelions into the wind, while drowning subtly in the words of a heartbreaking childhood romance.

As semi-solid as it is, the entire album bears no preparation for the second to last track, "Frankenstein," as it peels back the curtain to show the growth that TPC has undergone in the last two years. Jumping right into a startling, all-encompassing melody with deep bass undertones, hypnotic beats and synthesized instrumentation, "Frankenstein" churns out a sound that's capable of sending goose bumps right down your spine, ten seconds in. I only wish they would have saved this gem to be the final track, as it teases in anticipation for what TPC might have in store next time around...

Champ finds Tokyo Police Club crossing over into a new era; a band noticeably more comfortable in their own skin, having lengthened their songs, strengthened their construction and explored their own capabilities. This record takes you away to an indie-pop landscape filled with dreamy childhood innocence showing signs of maturity as it progresses, leaving you with a band that has begun to ripen, much like their sound.

- © Caroline Bolter

Listen to my favorite track from Champ:

...and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Beep.

Ring Ring...Ring Ring...

Never in the 10 or so years I've been using cell phones, did I ever expect them to have any major impact on deciding what path my life goes down. I've never treated them with the respect they truly deserve, but only because of my own naiveté towards the magnitude of their power.

Two weeks ago, I went through a first interview with a job that I could easily describe as a dream; a step in the right direction towards what I think I really would like to spend the rest of my life doing. My application was a shot in the dark, since it's a jump from the TV/Film industry (which I have been working in the last 7 years) to the music industry, one that I have virtually no contacts or professional experience in. Someone even asked me who my contacts were in order to land this interview in the first place, because apparently it's not the easiest battle to feat. I suppose I should reveal specifics; are you ready for it? The job is to be the assistant to the Vice-President of Music Licensing for Television and Film at Interscope-Geffen-A&R Records. Yeah. My thoughts exactly.

After 2 weeks of no follow-up from my first interview, I had pretty much written off ever hearing from them again. That was my first mistake. I often forget that in the corporate world (and being under the umbrella of Universal Music Group - this is definitely a corporate position) the hiring process can sometimes take a lengthy amount of time, depending.

Last Thursday evening, a voicemail notice popped up on my cell phone screen, which I immediately called to check. It was my friend Candace, calling from Texas to say hi, and shoot the shit. Good to hear her voice. But wait, my call didn't end; there was another message, one that was from the HR rep that I initially interviewed with at Interscope. He was calling to see if I could come in on that Friday (note : this was Thursday evening that I'm hearing this message) to meet with the hiring manager. And then the time stamp : Message recorded at 10:30am, Wednesday morning. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. I frantically called his office, even though it being after hours, left him a message explaining that I had just received word and I was completely available to come in the following day, or any day the next week.

Friday comes. No return call. I call again and leave a second message. "Hi...It's Caroline...still available this afternoon or anytime next week. Thanks much..."

Friday ends. No return call, leading me into a weekend of wrestling between the thoughts that missing this message may have entirely screwed me for life and "No, I'm sure they have just been busy and are going to get back to me first thing Monday."

Monday comes. I call for the third time, like a gal who hasn't heard from the blind date that she thought "went really well" and is just calling to "check in" (ugh), but this time the interviewer answers. "Hi...It's Caroline..." He already knew exactly who it was. I'm not sure what I said, and specifically what he said, all I heard were scattered words here and there, each one like a tiny cannonball shooting flaming metal orbs straight into my heart. "Zero-ed in on another candidate" , "coming in to finalize tomorrow", "we'll let you know if it doesn't work out"....

36 hours. I missed the message by 36 hours. It only took 36 hours for my life to jam it's foot on the brakes and slam the Interscope door in my face.

Everyone (everyone = my mom, my dad) keeps saying, "Well, nothing is completely done quite yet, so you never know..." That's really just a mom and dad's way of saying, "Shit, honey. That blows."

The only valuable lesson I've gotten out of this situation is to really acknowledge the power of communication mediums. If an email accidentally gets looked over, a phone call returned just a bit too late, you never know what weight it could hold.

What if the next time the phone rings it's your Aunt Ida calling to tell you there is a plane flying right above your house that has blown out it's last reserve engine and your future is sitting in aisle seat 12C? And that you should probably get out before it's too late?

Eh, I'll just let it go to voicemail.

Can Caroline come out and Playa?

{that's me in pdr, trick.}
I mentioned a few posts back that I've been spending quite a bit of time with a whole new crop of friends lately, which with no surprise has continued to be a wonderful investment of my time. It just so happens that the majority of this group lives in a little area of west Los Angeles called Playa del Rey, which is just a hop/skip down the road from where I currently hang my red knitted hat. (Technically, there are only 4.58 miles between my front door and the edge of the sand.) With all of the time I've been in and out of PDR lately, it's starting to feel as homey as my favorite yellow hoodie (which much to my chagrin, I recently misplaced, so if you see it, please tell it to call home.)

I have to admit, I'm starting to think this little alcove of a neighborhood is one of the best kept secrets of L.A. Sure, the east side has it's own appeal; it has some of the best little bookstores I've found to date. However, I've never desired to live in east L.A., which could be sub-consciously attributed to my mother's impression that anything east of La Brea is "where Cheech is from", though I chock it up to my intense desire to be within running distance to the water. (Note : I did not say beach.)(Also note : I don't run.) I've always had such a strong fascination and internal drawl to the Pacific Ocean, and being more than a few miles away just wouldn't feel right.

But I digress, per usual.

Playa is a tiny beach town that for some reason or another, is actually within reasonable financial reach. (Note : Something I've heard of but am unfamiliar with.) My friends whom call it home theorize that the affordablity is attributed to it's semi-adjacent proximity to LAX's flight path. But, all the days and nights I've spent in this little gem, I don't recall hearing anything at all (which says a lot for a soundie like me.)

One of my friends is gunning for me to take my little PDR-lust-affair to the next level and officially become a local. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally take the plunge, commit and settle into a little water-side property. (Again, note, I did not say beach.) But then again, maybe certain things are more enjoyable when you're not totally immersed in them. (Okay, no more puns, I swear.) Either way, I'm really glad I've been able to find another little nook that makes me feel at home, when I'm almost two thousand miles away from my own.

-C.

PS. Check this little nugget out - I have some inside sources that claim Huell Howser will be doing a Playa del Rey episode of California's Gold within the year. Oooowee! That's GOLD!

It's always Sunny in Los Angeles.

I've said it before, and I'll shout it from the rooftops again, I have a lot of really amazing friends.

Recently, one of my fantastic gal pals has been integrating me into her group of long-term co-ed besties. I can't even begin to explain how wonderful these peeps are, and how they're everything I look for in good old-fashioned partners in crime. It's one of the biggest factors in what determines the quality of my life; the people that I surround myself with. At the risk of sounding like a curmudgeon, it's not always the easiest thing to come by in this town, necessarily. I've invested time in people that have seemingly redeemable qualities, and yet still turn out to be self-centered sourpusses in the end. I'm not sure if it's because they're jaded or indifferent, and frankly, it doesn't matter. I just don't see the need to carry a constant air of disdain and there is certainly no need for me to expose myself to it. My latest and greatest palsies are a constant reminder of what constitutes genuine friendship. Plus, they're WAY more fun than anyone else I know.

We're kicking off the summer this weekend with a big BBQ/pool/hot tub shindig. Lucky for me, the forecast is predicting perfect conditions for mirth and merriment. In fact, I have a feeling I should get used to this weather.

Studying the art of self censorship.

First Dates.

Someone asked me recently what my idea of the perfect first date would be. (UGH, I know, right?) Without a second thought, I answered with all the things that I love to do in this city : go to the Museum of Jurassic Technology and marvel at the silly exhibits, catch a Criterion or experimental film at the New Beverly or Silent Movie Theater, peek into other worlds at the Griffith Park Observatory, peruse a thrift store/garage sale for someone else's treasures, dig through the plethera of fiction at the Mystery Book Store, catch a Saturday lecture on contemporary art at LACMA, drive around looking for the oddest places we can find and laughing at their strangely wonderful presence, go to a food festival and make ourselves sick on things like garlic blue cheese fries and plantain sundaes, compare notes on our musical discoveries for hours on end, go to a vintage clothing store and dress up in costumes and re-enact our favorite movie scenes, go to a public park late at night and have a 'who-can-swing-the-highest' contest, and so on and so on.

I was recently reminded that none of those things have anything to do with the question.

My answer has been revised, and sure, it's completely obvious, but nonetheless, it's a small revelation to me. It has nothing to do with what you do. It has everything to do with whom you do it with.

So, what's my idea of the perfect first date? One that ends in being told that they would love to do it again...tomorrow.

Made for me.

A Story : Last year, my dearest friend in the world (Amanda Rogers, a musician from upstate New York) was on tour for her most recent record, and was coming through Los Angeles on the West Coast leg. (It may help to note : Amanda and her boyfriend, Mike, lived with me for a few months while she was recording said album the previous year. While here, they met my closest friends, who naturally welcomed the two into our group with open arms. How could they not? Amanda and Mike are the cat's pajamas, and the absolute sweetest vegan, tree-loving hippies you could ever meet. ) It goes without saying that we all went to every show she played while in the city. For a group of people with a lot of issues (we're like family - love and hate, all ecompassing), we can surprisingly pull our shit together when it comes to supporting one of each other.

AN ASIDE : It's a funny story how Amanda and I know each other, actually. Ready for it? We have the same ex-boyfriend. Yep. Of course, he's long gone, but the best gift he ever gave me was introducing me to her. Amanda is probably the closest thing I'll ever have to a soulmate. She gets me, I get her, we're different and yet, I think we're exactly the same. We don't get to see each other often considering that we live on opposite coasts. So far, we've somehow worked it out to visiting about twice a year. We don't talk on the phone (we both abhor it) and we don't get the chance to email much, either. (Though lately, she's been way better about it than I have.) When we do catch each other, we mostly just fill each other in on the what-nots of the past week, month, whatever. But, when we get the chance to see each other it's like no time has passed. Some relationships I like to think of as a favorite sweater. It's comfy, it makes you feel good in and out, it fits you just right and you wouldn't trade it for the world. Amanda is my fuzzy red cardigan.: ASIDE END.

Back to where I was intending to go with this : During one of Amanda's shows in Los Angeles, she played a song that I had never heard before, but instantly seemed to recognize. After the show was over, she came up to me and said that she should have warned me, but that song was about me. It's interesting, because it's not really a happy song, but it's not really a sad song, either. But it definitely is a song that reminds me of how well she knows me and I couldn't ask for anything more.

I wasn't recording that night, so I don't have my own video to show. However, our friend Ryan managed to capture it live at a show a few days after they left Los Angeles to head back east.

Amanda Rogers, The Taming of the Lonely One :

What's that quote about squandering time, again?

Tonight I designed my book cover, if I ever write a book. Note : I probably won't write a book.

Ex Machina.

I have a gigantic heart. So huge that it's almost cardiomegaly freakish. Kidding. It's way bigger than that.

Here's how I think of it : I have a tiny little machine in this one corner of my heart that makes my love. I guess you could say the creator of my machine was feeling pretty audacious the day he put my particular model together. To the naked eye, it looks like any other machine of it's kind, but there's more to it than your eyes can recognize. My machine was built with a handle on the side that cranks unusually fast (faster than almost every other version of this same machine), pumping out lots and lots and lots of love; in fact, so much love that it almost bursts the seams that hold my heart together (from being broken, of course.) The funny thing is, that no matter what kind, size or shape of love it is, it all comes from this same machine. Sometimes, anyone within it's radius finds the shape of it hard to make out, even me (the owner.) Not to mention, it's a far from perfect version; sometimes the gears get a little stiff, sometimes the footing is a little unstable, and sometimes what is cranked out that particular day belongs in the "damaged" pile. It doesn't always know when to start and it surely doesn't always know when to stop; but the one thing that's perfect about my little machine is that it sits in a little corner of in my heart, and there it will always be safe.

-C.