walking in the summer sun

It's a strange thing, the body and mind's habits. I suppose those are two things. Hmm. At any rate, they're odd.

After spending a month being devoured by work hither and yon, a lull gratefully sets in. Except it's an odd lull, one I probably shouldn't be relishing nearly as much as I am. All October I bounced from assignment to project (as evidenced by my absence from these 'pages' so as much as I'm in the habit of productivity on one front, productivity on this front (in my head at least) feels starchy, forced. Not just a little unpleasant in the always thorny theoretical realm.

So at some point the 'lull' and the time off has to not be enjoyed any longer and built upon. More things are coming up (I can see them like little pinholes of light) so really I should be Using This Time Wisely and tending to other parched little potted plants that have been clinging to life for a few years now. And yet...

There seems a need to enjoy the accomplishment a week out, to bask, just a little bit. That's human nature, just like Michael Jackson says (sorry). But in any case, while waiting between inspiration and the next bout with, well, perspiraction, it's time for a song.

'Keep Drawing Suns,' by Japancakes

I seem to be addicted to posting things on the slow and introspective side of late (when I can be bothered to post anything at all, that is). Still, no matter how much you might crave some LifeSavers-lit dancefloor framed my a boxing cage (oh they're out there), there is no denying how simply and achingly beautiful these nine minutes are. Take some time and stare out the window with me because no, this isn't dancefloor appropriate. Or maybe it is. Surprise me.

I'm not terribly familiar with Japancakes, but this album--this song, when I first heard it--pretty much floored me. As much as you can be floored by a thoughtful, atmospheric instrumental. There's a little bit of Friends of Dean Martinez in here, maybe Calexico at their most mum and spaced-out (like the tour-only Travelall, which is so blindingly lovely, scary, dark and hopeful that I can hardly stand it), and maybe a little bit of some Nashville bar band after devouring a handful of tranquilizers.

But in a good way. This song starts slowly, all sinister and cloudy courtesy of a wad of shapeless guitar fuzz, but then the pedal steel comes in, bright as tinsel on a thrown away Christmas tree, trading thoughts with a echoing electric piano. Think of this as first opening your eyes in the morning, or maybe at the beginning of a road trip as the song goes down or comes up. Maybe you can't tell. Where are you going? It doesn't matter. The first (or last) bit of sun feels warm, the air around you is a little cool, but things (and the drums) are picking up. Just keep going. You might hear some electronic blips, things might get slowed to where you feel dizzy, tired, or even a little lost, but you'll get there. Stop, slow down, step on it, whatever, but keep pointed forward. Everyone arrives.

Buy a copy of Japancakes' 'Waking Hours' from InSound