Back

So I am back home.
Africa was sweet.
More on that Later.

Here are some photographs:Zanzibar

Indian Ocean at sunrise


Ruaha National Park

Home stay family

Zanzibar

Here's a Salinger Quote I like:
"He said that a Man should be able to lie at the bottom of a hill with his throat cut, slowly bleeding to death, and if a pretty girl or an old woman should pass by with a beautiful jug balanced perfectly on the top of her head, he should be able to raise himself up on one arm and see the jug safely over the top of the hill."

Current Interests

I like listing things.
So here are the things i have been filling my time with lately.



I have been watching far too much West Wing. It is a good show, however, and I am on break and dont feel guilty.




Interesting read. I Recomend it.




Caleb and I started recording some Call of the Wild songs. Until Caleb's Mac began to behave like a mac and broke. So we have postponed recording for a bit.



Josh Ritter is really good. The song "Good Man" is pretty classy.




I often overlook Iron and Wine. But Whenever I give them a listen I am generally blown away. This albulm is pretty classic.



The Bon Iver Daytrotter session is pretty cool. Daytrotter is pretty cool. WWw.daytrotter.com

Alright
that is all.

sensory memories

It's been a while. I found this piece that I wrote sometime this summer in my documents tonight, and thought it was blog worthy.


The smell of zest triggers memories; zest reminds me of summer camp. In elementary school I went to camp every summer; the camp was named Indian Village and I was a proud to be in the Apache tribe. Every year, before leaving for camp my Mom would take me shopping for supplies: toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, not deodorant, I wasn't old enough for deodorant, sunscreen, bug repellent, and soap. It was always Zest soap. The problem with bar soap is that once you take it out of its original cardboard wrapping it is no longer a friendly travel companion. The only way to avoid an awful mess is to place it inside a plastic bag. However, in third grade keeping my soap in good condition was not high on my priority list - - there were rabbit furs to buy, lanyards to make, and games of capture the flag to play. Naturally by the end of the week my bar of Zest soap was pretty gnarly, with small rocks lodged into it, dirt spattered about it, giving it a sandpaper texture. Maybe even a small leaf would find its way onto my bar of Zest soap. It is interesting that this sea-foam green bar, designed to wash away dirt, was so prone to attracting and holding onto dirt itself. By Tuesday I would inevitably deem my bar useless and toss it into the black duffel bag containing all my clothes. Slowly but surely each garment would begin to take on the zesty aroma. And slowly but surely the smell of zest soap became connected with childhood and camp.

Three versions

Smokey Robinson & the Miracles



The Beatles




She and Him

What?

Something that Struck my fancy

While reading an essay for my composition class called, "On the Fear of Death" by Elisabeth Kubler-Ross; I happened upon this quote that made me pause:

"Are we becoming less human or more human?"

Guthrie

“I hate a song that makes you think that you are not any good. I hate a song that makes you think that you are just born to lose. Bound to lose. No good to nobody. No good for nothing. Because you are too old or too young or too fat or too slim or too ugly or too this or too that. Songs that run you down or poke fun at you on account of your bad luck or hard travelling. I am out to fight those songs to my very last breath of air and my last drop of blood. I am out to sing songs that will prove to you that this is your world and that if it has hit you pretty hard and knocked you for a dozen loops, no matter what color, what size you are, how you are built, I am out to sing the songs that make you take pride in yourself and in your work. And the songs that I sing are made up for the most part by all sorts of folks just about like you. I could hire out to the other side, the big money side, and get several dollars every week just to quit singing my own kind of songs and to sing the kind that knock you down still farther and the ones that poke fun at you even more and the ones that make you think that you’ve not got any sense at all. But I decided a long time ago that I’d starve to death before I’d sing any such songs as that. The radio waves and your movies and your jukeboxes and your songbooks are already loaded down and running over with such no good songs as that anyhow.”
– Woody Guthrie.

The Beauty of Ambiguity

This month on the cover of my National Geographic Magizine one of the headlines was:

"High in the Ozarks."

Perfect

This rules

Tucked away on top of my hill

I have become a hermit. Kinda.... well i guess not really at all. I have just stopped following what is going on in the rest of the world. This is a familiar occurrence for me. Every time I come back to Westmont I get so trapped in this little world of friends, books, quizzes, lectures, and essays, that I feel cut off from what is happening in the rest of the world. I haven't blogged since being here, I haven't payed attention to any current politics since I have been here, I have no idea what the current situation in Georgia is, I hardly know anything about Hurricane Gustav, I have hardly even been following the Dodgers. I hope that when I get back into a rhythm and get my schedule nailed down I will become more aware of the world outside Westmont.

current tastes

DeYarmond Edison - Silent Signs

Radiohead - OK Computer

Bruce Springsteen - Greetings from Asbury Park NJ

Ryan Adams and The Cardinals - Cold Roses

The Beatles - Abbey Road