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“As I type this in the room at my home in which I keep my media library, at my feet are two bags lying rather indelicately on the floor. One, a knapsack, is filled with, let’s say, 60 CDs, the top third or so of which I just played on my most recent show. Lying next to it, also inviting itself to be stepped on, is a messenger bag with approximately 40 LPs; the ones in the front of the bag are the ones I’ve already spun. (I also store a few 45s in a front pocket of that CD-holding rucksack.)”

“In any given show, anywhere from 95% to 100% of the music I feature comes from my personal collection. That familiarity allows me, like a minority of WFMU DJs, not to bother planning a show at all. I know there’s one in my two magic satchels.”

via WFMU Blog circa 2011: Gaylord Fields Tells How He Prepares (or, Rather, Doesn’t) for His Show

Detachment: One of six basic psychological needs as meta-analyzed by Ed Diener and his colleagues.

(via Psyche)

Boston: City of spiritual refreshment, at least it is for me.

Hannah and I haven’t lived together since 2013, but every (non-lockdown) year, one of us has made the Amtrak pilgrimage to see the other for a weekend involving food, wine, window shopping, a performance of some sort, an arty excursion, long discussions that remake the world, and at least one transcendent, unplanned experience that transmutes the weekend from a visit to a homecoming.

This time around, it came from visiting a shop on 6 Birch Street, which is depicted in the uppermost sections above. I won’t be able to recount my experience with the purveyor, Joanne, in any great detail that will do the encounter justice. All I can say is that it is such a rare thing to be in a shop that is infused with such caring energy and even rarer to feel personally blessed by its owner. After we had a brief exchange about jam, loss, friendship, the pace of life and its many crossroads, she told me she was honored to have a New Yorker come visit her shop. How validating and nice that felt to be seen that way.

Other highlights I have to record here before they float away:

- A warm welcome meal at Ten Tables

- Meditating at 7:30 am both mornings in the perfect quiet stillness

- Meandering around Papercuts, the platonic ideal of a bookstore if there ever were one (I do regret not buying the sweatshirt I was contemplating)

- Finding TWO ‘90s-era iMac desktops this weekend: one grey, one blue, both smaller than I remember.

- A very good chat (and smuggled-in apple cake) at Ula Café

- Provocative first readings with my newly acquired Pulp Tarot deck

- An incredible pre-show meal (and deeper than deep conversation) at Frenchie

- Mass confusion and ridiculousness in line for the Dita show

- Having our minds melted by the exquisite sensuality and strength AT the Dita show

- Our Sunday morning jam-on-toast flight, stroll through the Arnold arboretum, stop at the farmer’s market, and serendipitous visit to see Joanne one last time

…and so much more that can’t be put into words.

Οι ντομάτες και τα λεμόνια και τα πορτοκάλια και οι πιπεριές και τα αγγούρια και τα πεπόνια

“As I said, when I’m outside or at home, I’m hearing what hits my eardrums, I can see what I’m seeing. What do they call that? Primary source material, that’s what the world is for me. I’m not going through a secondary source, which is the phone.”

— The Last Man Without a Cell Phone via CAFÉ ANNE

“When people sigh about radio, they are yearning for a mass medium that stimulated the imagination instead of stunting it.”

From Listening In: Radio and the American Imagination by Susan J. Douglas

Renaissance frescos overlooking the Berry Fresh checkout area.

Oh, hello there! I spontaneously made Yossy Arefi’s honey spiced snacking cake this evening because I was dangerously close to running out of sweets.

It has a light and spongy crumb, a toasty, rum-tinged flavor, and a caramelized texture around the outside. Here, it is served with the customary yogurt plop and enjoyed while listening to the latest “Rotations” show on WFMU.

After learning that David Crosby passed away yesterday, I searched my little record stack to see if I had any CSN(&Y) on hand, and I did indeed. Their 1970 album Deja Vu, which I must’ve stolen from my parents at some point.

Inside the dust sleeve was a folded up piece of paper, on which the lyrics to “Woodstock” were typewritten. A cool little keepsake from the past.

le-corbustier