Point of Interest

Sign

/sīn/

noun

1. an object, quality, or event whose presence or occurrence indicates the probable presence or occurrence of something else.

2. a gesture or action used to convey information or instructions.

I’ve moved 5 times in the past 4 years. Two of those moves were fewer than 10 miles. But the last one was 1,878 miles. Regardless of distance, a new neighborhood demands that you learn new rules, new routines, and a new sense of familiarity. I prefer to explore on foot, or bicycle. So when I arrived in Colorado, I took to the streets as much as possible, without a car. What I noticed were a lot of signs I had never seen before. I started taking pictures of signs and was reminded of my father, who also took pictures of signs. So many that when we’d return from vacation, and he turned our photographs into a slide-show, as one did in the 1980s, my mother would be so embarrassed. “Why did you take so many pictures of signs?” She’d ask. Now I get it. Like seeing a new language. A farmer/tractor sign. A sign about what bait can be used. A sign about rattlesnakes. And on and on. Most of these signs were easy enough to interpret; but some of them left me baffled. Clearly this is a warning, but for what? The other thing that I enjoy about exploring on foot or bike, is that my mind wanders freely. I started imagining outlandish versions of the signs that I didn’t understand. I started leaking one translation into another, until I was left with ridiculous—sometimes very personal—ideas of what each sign meant.

If you're in the Upper Arkansas River Valley of Colorado, stop by!

Watershed Project Number One: "Point of Interest" by Micah Ling 

410 E Main Street, Buena Vista, CO

OPEN HOUSE: 5-8pm, Saturday, August 13th. Interactive! Stop by to add your translation!

Official launch: September 10, 2016

It's a Dog's Life

Life is better with dogs. That's just true. If you're a cat person, that's a shame. Dogs are hilarious. I've been living in Leadville, Colorado for the past 8 weeks with some friends and Muddy, their dog. Muddy has his own pack when he goes hiking. He carries his own food, maps, toys, and sometimes the walkie-talkie. He has responsibilities. And when you give him a bath, he gets the serious zoomies for about an hour. Sometimes he falls asleep on your shoulder. After a while, you start to hear his voice: a little sarcasm, a little cockiness, but mostly just a guy who want to be part of the scene. The other day he said, "Guys, how about you treat me my age (in dog-years) and pour a little Bailys in my water bowl?" It was weird. He claims to have a lot of friends out here, even though he just moved from Chicago. He also has a theme song. "I am the Mud Man. Do-do-do-do-do-do-do. Four paws down, two paws up, I don't really give a fuck, I'm the Mud Man. Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do. Two paws up, four paws down, I pretty much, run this town, I'm the Mud Man..." It goes on from there. Anyway, get to know the area dogs is my point. They're full of character and full of love, even if they do fall for the "relax your paw, relax your paw...why are you hitting yourself?" gag every time. 

Life is a Dream

Last night I had a dream that I was at a Damien Jurado concert. I lost my phone, but was sure that someone had stolen it, and was worried that Jurado would need to text me to check the sound. Dreams are more vivid at 10,200 feet. And farther up, things just get weird. Mount Belford's summit sits at 14,150 feet. Toward the top, vision gets a little fuzzy. You're not sure if you're actually seeing pikas carrying bouquets of flowers, or if that's a hallucination. Wind gusts are such, and dizziness is just right, that you have to make sure not to literally get blown off the mountain. But there's something about getting to the top that is powerful. Like, 50 feet below the top is just as difficult to get to, but being as high as possible feels like such a finished task. Maybe I was at a Jurado concert last night. Maybe I checked the sound for him. I definitely saw a pika on his way to a hot date on the mountainside.  

45 Degrees at 30 Miles Per Hour = Cold Hands

I rode from Leadville to Minturn (just south of Vail) this morning. A little over 30 miles, beginning at 6:30am. Leadville is often frosty for morning rides and runs (usually between 37 and 43 degrees at sunrise). But this morning it was a balmy 48-degrees, so I wore shorts. Long spandex in July just gets old. My legs felt good. The first 10 miles were steady climbing. By the time I hit 11 miles, I took my gloves off and was sure that I'd regret long sleeves. But by 13 miles, I had to stop and put my gloves back on. The downhills were frigid. My body got so cold that all I could do was look forward to more uphill climbing, just to warm up. Miles 20-24 were pretty intensely uphill. By the time I pulled in to the Sticky Finger Cafe, I was no longer shivering, but needed to sit in the sun long past breakfast to truly be warm. Moral of the story: mountain roads are not to be tempted. They'll always make you wish you had your spandex.  

Pizza at 10,200 Feet

There's an indoor aquatic center in Leadville, Colorado, run by a plump man with dreadlocks, who wears purple John Lennon-style glasses at all times. He told me that I should eat more, because the elevation, "Sucks the weight right off," (he gestured at the mountains when he said this). He also told me to drink a lot of water, and avoid too much alcohol. All good advice, as far as I can tell. Things that are still difficult after living two miles above sea level for 3 weeks: running at any incline, swimming more than 50 meters, biking hills, sometimes folding laundry or talking while walking. Things that are surprisingly not difficult: making pizza. Baking times take a little longer, but pies turn out great! (Half vegan, half...not, as pictured here). The altitude is always in the back of my mind in Leadville. I notice it when I try to go to sleep, I notice it when I get up too quickly, I notice it when I shower. A lightness, a dizziness that never fully takes over, but constantly has me wondering if it's all a dream. A dream with consistently great pizza. 

Buena Vista to Salida

Ride a road bike at a decent clip from Buena Vista to downtown Salida, and you’ll cover the mostly flat/slightly downhill 30 miles in about an hour and a half. To your left will be the San Isabel National Forest. To your right, Mt. Princeton and Mt. Antero. There will be a few slight uphill climbs, which will make you realize how much more difficult the reverse trip would be. You’ll see cows, and llamas, and alpacas. Prairie dogs will dart away from the road as you whisk by. A red-tail hawk will call at smaller birds. You’ll notice the way things smell more than you would in a car, or even standing still. Manure, pine, sage, possible rain moving in. You’ll see the things on the side of the road: a single Twizzler. A paintbrush. Think about how tiny you are, and how lucky to be here, on this road; and about how huge the sky and snow-capped peaks are. Think about how a bike works: how efficient and productive it is. Think about power and energy, and how it seems like you could ride forever. But when you do stop, it will feel good. Order a local beer and a sandwich and watch kayakers play. Be part of this place. 

Day of the Dead

The National - Peggy-O (Grateful Dead cover) - San Francisco, Live, Treasure Island Music Festival 2015, Sun. 10-18-15. "It was Bob Weir's birthday like 2 days ago... and we're in San Francisco so... This was not a Grateful Dead song, but it's a song they played it a lot."

In 1993, when I was 12-years-old, I went to my first concert: The Grateful Dead at Buckeye Lake, just east of Columbus, Ohio. Sting opened. Yes, I went with my parents and their friends. No, my father wouldn’t let me try Jello shots. But it was amazing. (See my full review at Hobart). 

Los Dead interpretan el clásico "Peggy O". Impecable versión.

The Lumineers

I’m allowed to love The Lumineers because I live in New York City. Hear me out. There are now more than 8.5 million people in this city. Meaning, we’re all searching for an escape most of the time. We get up even earlier than the early-birds so that we can run the path next to the river and only see 2 or 3 others for 45 whole minutes. Listen to “Gun Song” on the Lumineers’ new album, Cleopatra: that’s what we’re singing when we want to escape. “La-la-la-la-la…la-la-la-la-la” Read my review at Hobart...

Buena Vista, Colorado

When I was between the ages of about 9 and 16 years old, my family always took a summer vacation. This meant heading west. I know now that my parents saved all year for those trips, and found ways to make them as cheap as possible. But I never knew it at the time--as a child, I thought we were living like kings. We went to Utah, Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado. We visited national parks, and out-of-the-way towns. We hiked the Grand Canyon, and drove our old station wagon to the top of Pike's Peak. We camped and stayed in YMCA lodges. We found swimming holes that locals told us about, and stayed up late to look at the stars. At the end of each summer trip, I felt my first real versions of depression. Back home in Ohio, I ached for the mountains. I asked my father why he couldn't get a job near the Rockies. I think he probably tried. In one month, I'm moving from NYC to the Arkansas River Valley of Central Colorado. There's a 12-mile paved trail--for bikes and pedestrians only--that goes around the historic mining town. It has views of the Sawatch and Mosquito mountain ranges. My adolescent self is so goddamn proud. 

Prince

If you didn’t learn how to have sex with Prince playing, you might still not know how. Everything about Prince was, “Wait, you can do that?!” It’s not that he was (just) a genius musician, it’s that he was doing something that no one else had done, and may never do again. See my full recap at Hobart... 

Prince, Tom Petty, Steve Winwood, Jeff Lynne and others perform "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" at the 2004 Hall of Fame Inductions. http://rockhall.com/ ⁍ Buy "While My Guitar Gently Weeps": https://goo.gl/8sEuNp ⁍ Buy the Rock Hall of Fame Vinyl: http://goo.gl/fVR2Go ⁍ Buy the Rock Hall of Fame 3 DVD set: http://goo.gl/W7mKXa Visit us!

Weezer

Last week I was in LA: Venice, specifically. It was amazing. I miss it. While I was there, I discovered that Rivers Cuomo wrote the new Weezer album there, which made a lot of sense. Here's my review on Hobart Magazine. 

Jim Harrison

There's little that can be said about Jim Harrison that he hasn't already said perfectly himself. This "What I've Learned" from Esquire is everything. When I lived in Livingston, Montana, I worked at a restaurant called the Second Street Bistro: upscale, for Montana. It's attached to a famous hotel and bar: The Murray. Jim used to come in often, and drink the best wine we had. People in Livingston rightfully loved him. He was so gruff and so gentle. He loved writing, and art, and eating, and being in the the last best places. That's all there was for him. Anthony Bourdain did an episode of No Reservations at the Bistro, and spent much of the show exploring with Jim, which I found--and still do find--hilarious and lovely. Jim croaks to Bourdain about food and hunting and Montana: about how life should be lived. I would love to be at the Yellowstone River now, reading, and re-reading. There's something about that place that makes you ache to get back to it. In Search of Small Gods is amazing. The English Major is certainly true. The Big Seven is pure fun. Brown Dog is worth just reading on repeat.    

Damien Jurado

Secretly Canadian: http://smarturl.it/djurado iTunes: http://smarturl.it/djurado_it Amazon: http://smarturl.it/djurado_amz Support your local independent record store: http://smarturl.it/djurado_ind Director: Elise Tyler Editor: Dillon Hayes Damien Jurado 'Visions of Us on the Land' out March 18th, 2016

When I lived in Bloomington, Indiana, Secretly Canadian had just signed Damien Jurado. What I'm saying is, I've liked this guy since before he was so cool, and so I'm cool. He came to town and played shows in Bloomington houses, which is to say, houses with porches and gravel driveways and people hanging around outside with a dog or two. At one of those shows, someone had one of those lights you clip to something while you're working under a car. And it made an enormous shadow of Jurado on the wall. I'll always love And Now That I'm in Your Shadow because of that. "Hoquiam," "Denton, TX," "I Am Still Here." So many solid songs. Jurado has an incredible range. His falsetto in songs like "Cloudy Shoes" and "Arkansas," is so tender. But his tenor dominates. This new album is the third in a trilogy of albums (including Maraqopa and Brothers and Sisters of the Eternal Sun). In all of these, Jurado is telling a sort of magical story. I imagine there's a lot of fog and mist in the story. It's certainly eerie. It's an odyssey. This installment has a lot more synth play than before. But as usual, Jurado focusses on place--being in a place, and moving on--trying to get to a new place. Even though a lot of these 17 songs seem sad, you could totally do the two-step to them. This album will improve your mood: it will get you where you're going. 

Bloomington, IN

March Madness: Jimmy Valvano

You can donate at 1-800-4JimmyV or www.jimmyv.org. Jimmy Valvano's 1993 ESPY Speech. "Don't give up . . . Don't ever give up!"® The V Foundation for Cancer Research was founded in 1993 by ESPN and the late Jim Valvano, legendary North Carolina State basketball coach and ESPN commentator.

My extended family on my father's side has conducted an NCAA bracket-pool for as long as I can remember: I haven't won since 1997, and this likely won't be my come-back year (curses, Michigan State!) When I was accepted into the MFA program at Indiana University in Bloomington, my dad bought me season tickets to see the Hoosiers play. I was in basketball country. On more than one occasion, I was an arm's reach away from Larry Bird. Of the sports we watch, college basketball has always seemed like the least corrupt. Maybe that's naive; certainly the sport isn't clean, but it seems like there's a lot of raw talent on the court. With final scores that sometimes don't breach the 50-point mark, the players still seem like kids. When I think of clinging to the wholesomeness of a sport, I think of Jimmy Valvano. He died of bone cancer 23 years ago; he was 47. Eight weeks before he died, he gave his epic ESPY award speech. Most notably, he was the coach at North Carolina State from 1980-1990, but in his speech he talks about his first job, at Rutgers University. This speech is such a tear-jerker, because Jimmy embodies everything that a person can be, and also everything a person can fear. He encourages his audience to constantly think about where they started, where they are, and where they're going. He says that every day, we should strive to laugh, to think, and to have our emotions moved to tears. "That's a full day: that's a heck of a day." By the end, Valvano can barely walk off the stage, but he's grinning and full of hope. Anything can happen in March Madness; anything can happen in life--the only thing a person can do, is have hope. 

Andrea Fraser

The Whitney Museum is currently featuring Andrea Fraser's take on the expanse of 18,200 square feet that makes up the fifth floor. The exhibit, called Open Plan, will feature four other artists in the coming months. Fraser's version of Open Plan is called "Down the River." It explores the reality that 32 miles north of New York City, in the town of Ossining, sits Sing Sing: a maximum security prison on the Hudson River. The experience of being in the new location of The Whitney, is exceedingly impressive. The clouds and the sun and the shadows emphasize the space itself: it's profound and empty. But the sounds of the prison play on a constant soundtrack; to the point that you can't stay maybe as long as you'd like to. There's an uncontrollable eagerness to move along: to escape outdoors. In her statement, Fraser notes that since the 1970's, both museums and prisons have experienced a boom of expansion. Museums have seen ten times more attendance, while prison populations have grown by 700 percent. Fraser says: 

Beyond this parallel growth, museums, and in particular art museums, would seem to share nothing with prisons. Art museums celebrate freedom and showcase invention. Prisons revoke freedom and punish transgression. Art museums collect and exhibit valued objects. Prisons confine vilified people. Art museums are designed by renowned architects as centerpieces of urban development. Prisons are built far from affluent urban areas, becoming all but invisible to those not directly touched by incarceration.

Ross Gay

Shot and edited by poet and photographer Rachel Eliza Griffiths, P.O.P is a video series featuring contemporary American poets who read both an original poem and a poem by another poet, after which they reflect on their choice. They then answer a question contributed anonymously by a poet in the series, and leave their own question for another to answer.

It was announced yesterday that Ross Gay won the $100,000 Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award. I'm reluctant to say that these kinds of announcements usually make me a little envious; but that was not the case with Ross. When I read the news, I was nothing but thrilled. I've had the great fortune to work with, and be neighbors with this guy: he is all good. He recently read at the Fey House in Radcliffe Yard. He spent the night explaining himself; I wish I could have been there. Ross is the kind of guy who can change your life for the better, just with his smile. He's so goddamn cool. I ran into him on a hot-as-hell summer day in Brooklyn a couple years ago. I thought he was a mirage. In my mind, Ross was in Bloomington: how could he be on my street in Clinton Hill? That day made my week, maybe my month. But he's also a very, very serious poet. (And a silly poet). The kind of poet who is reinventing how we talk to each other, and treat each other. Ross Gay makes everyone he encounters want to be better at what ever it is they do. I think this is because he's always on a quest to learn and be better himself. He's always asking questions. He's always practicing his jump-shot. I can only imagine that everyone who knows him feels like they won yesterday. Honoring Ross is making us better. 

Carter Tanton

First Release off the upcoming solo album 'Free Clouds' from former Tulsa front man Carter Tanton. http://luxurylinerpleasurecruise.blogspot.com/ http://cartertanton.bandcamp.com/

Carter Tanton is one of those guys who was clearly born to do what he's doing. At 15, in Baltimore, he started performing in bars. He can play the guitar ambidextrously, and is also an incredibly talented composer and arranger. Tanton has worked with numerous bands (Luxury Liners, The War on Drugs, Tulsa, Lower Dens), and in his new album he collaborates with Sharon Van Etten. He's got a voice that marries Jeff Tweedy and Chris Martin, and maybe has a side thing going with John Lennon. The new album, Jettison the Valley, is due out on Friday from Western Vinyl, but a couple songs are available to stream now. "Twentynine Palms" is especially lovely. It'll make you want to go somewhere beautiful. Van Etten harmonizes perfectly--their voices match in an almost eerie way. Hopefully these two will be on tour together soon. (Hint, hint). 

Daaaaamn, Scramble

My take on Damn, Daniel.

Maybe you haven't seen "Damn, Daniel" yet. Take a moment. And then there was Damn, Spaniel. Now there's the egg-tribute. It's incredible that there have actually been articles written on why this meme is such a "success." Incredible, and hilarious. There's no reason to figure out why this kind of thing captures our attention. I actually think it's what makes us great. Why are we saying "Daaaaaamn, Daniel" like it's the newest pop song? Because it is. Clips of weirdness and greatness that get stuck in our minds. That's what makes us part of the wired sea. We have favorite shoes, and favorite people, and favorite moments; and we want to share them, with everyone. I only know the author Steve Edwards from Twitter, and he recently had an essay published at Orion: it's worth reading. It's beautiful and honest and eyeopening. After receiving due praise for the piece, he tweeted, "Don't let anybody tell you community can't be had on Twitter!" There seems to be a lingering fear that the Internet is still a sort of fake interaction, and maybe it is. It certainly has its dangers. Edwards would probably be the first to tell us all to get outside. But there are also beautiful moments that can only come from a community that has a bit of anonymity. The moment at the end of Edwards' essay is something that will stick with me: something I want to share, even though it's not mine. We're goofy and playful and unafraid when we have a little shield. We put things out there that we might not otherwise have the guts to. The kids behind "Damn, Daniel" were just being kids--having fun, being stars--and that seems worth mimicking.  

Mount Moriah

From the album How to Dance, out February 26, 2016 on Merge Records. http://www.mergerecords.com/how-to-dance Directed by Jordan Michael Blake Produced by The American Standard Film Co.

Mount Moriah drops their new--third--full album, "How to Dance," just in time for spring: dancing season. In an interview for Speakeasy, front woman Heather McEntire says, "I don't really care if anyone likes it. It saved my life." I'd say that's art. When you do something because you have to--because it's saving your life. People will either get it or they won't: it's out there. Despite what she says, this album seems intended to help. McEntire is honest about the dark year or so that she's had. But this album is her healing--her getting back into the light. It's a reminder that we're all on the edge of both winning and losing, all the time. The album says that it's dedicated to anyone who has ever felt the cold shadows...to misfits, outcasts, and loners. Mount Moriah has always produced comforting music worth dancing to, but this time it seems like their work is even bigger--even more crucial than before. 

Mark Ronson, Bruno Mars

Mark Ronson's official music video for 'Uptown Funk' ft. Bruno Mars. Click to listen to Mark Ronson on Spotify: http://smarturl.it/MarkRonsonSpotify?IQid=MarkRUF As featured on Uptown Special.

It was zero-degrees fahrenheit on Saturday: today it's 55. Open the windows and just dance!  I'm a fan of Beyoncé: the video for "Formation" is beyond powerful. But, Bruno Mars stole the Superbowl halftime show last week. And last night, Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars won the Grammy for duo performance. If you can listen to this song and watch this video without dancing, it might be too late for you. I was a child of the 80's. I remember Bowie saying, "I want my MTV!" My brother and I watched music videos when we weren't supposed to. Michael Jackson dancing around the (Hoyt-Schermerhorn) subway platform in "Bad" was life changing. These guys are at that level. Born in London, Mark Ronson moved to NYC as a child and was good friends with Sean Lennon. As a DJ prodigy, he started making genius mixes. Teaming up with Mars was inevitable. Ronson never actually met Michael Jackson, but Mars embodies the moves perfectly. These guys emulate the Jacksons, Prince, Marvin Gaye, all things Motown and funk. I live in Harlem, and while this video seems starkly placed in the past, there are things uptown that remain timeless. Barbershops, street corner stores, diners, gold chains. In the video, people are just beautiful and simple and ready to get down, uptown.