Song of the Day (Blurred Lines) 05.31.13

End of May! How did this sneak up on us!?

Well it's here so onto June and summer! Hell yeah! Beaches, booze, and frisbee ahead. Hope all of you had a great week and have some fun plans for the weekend.

As I said, I'm being a bit skimpy this evening because of the nice weather and frisbee, but I'm sure you'll get over it.

Let's get onto the music shall we?

This week I just had the need for something funky. Fresh. Feel good. And I have exactly the song for that. It's been out for about a month and recently just began flooding all the radio stations out here, so I wouldn't be surprised if you have heard it before. When Daft Punk's "Get Lucky" first came out, I was pumped because it brought Pharrell Williams out of the woodwork and back into the mainstream, and thankfully he's in the following song also. Score! I hope you enjoy it. If you haven't heard it before, get ready, this will be another one of those "summer songs." This is Robin Thicke's "Blurred Lines."

Back to Morocco

Yeah yeah, I know it should be "Day Four..." regarding the Ireland trip. But I'll be straight with you. It's 7pm as I'm writing this, still sunny out, and 80 degrees. I'm going to play some frisbee.

My continuation of Ireland experiences can wait until next week. Cause I have bigger fish to fry.

But I'll leave you with another wonderful video. Of course it's of Morocco. Why? Because I love it there. The sights, sounds, tastes, cultures, people. Everything. And this video showcases it. But unlike any other video I've shown regarding the country, this is super stylized. With clashing music, in-your-face editing, and some fun camera effects (film burn, focusing, etc).

I hope you enjoy it. Cause I sure do. And I promise...Ireland will return promptly Monday!

Watchtower of Morocco from Leonardo Dalessandri on Vimeo.

Day Three: Kilkenny, Waterford, and Killarney

Waking up super early, we packed our things, said goodbye to our more than gracious host and made our way to the car, ready to begin the first day of driving outside of Dublin. Of course this was to be my first real day of driving and I will admit I was super nervous. Driving on the opposite side of the road, combined with the the controls being on the right side of the vehicle freaked me out a bit. But surprisingly, it was much easier than I imagined. It only took me a few minutes to feel comfortable behind the wheel. Only on turns did I want to naturally make my way into the wrong lane - but thankfully that urge passed quickly and we were cruising down the highway in no time.

At first the driving was easy. Three lane highway - oncoming traffic separated by a median. But then we began to travel via back roads. And that's when the fear started to kick in a bit. Yes, the roads had two lanes, but each was barely wider than our car. They also bent and curved constantly, with no shoulder. Oh yeah, and the speed limit was 100km (60mph). So there was little room, poor visibility ahead because of the twists and turns, and locals zooming by at ridiculous speeds. Hair-raising to say the least. But I adjusted quickly and it soon became fun. Hugging the turns, coasting over bumps, tearing ass down farm roads.

Eventually we made it out of the country and into the city of Kilkenny. Our first stop of the day. To see our first castle of the trip, appropriately called Kilkenny Castle. As a kid I had seen castles on TV, in books, on the internet, but there is something so magical about witnessing something first hand that was built in 1195. The craftsmanship, the weathered stones, ornate decorations spread throughout. Everything about it felt regal. The large halls, the artwork, the different themes of each room and wings. It was wonderful wandering through it, learning about the different families that once resided within its walls, how it was built, the battles it had survived. We even had some tea and coffee in the refurnished kitchen. The whole experience was pretty eye opening, really putting in perspective Ireland's lush history.

Hopping back into the car, we continued along through the countryside until we hit Waterford. By the advice of Paige, there wasn't much to see in the city. It was rather plain, kind of boring, except for of course the Waterford Crystal factory. My mom has a few of their pieces, so it was only fitting to take the tour and man was it a blast. Walking through, watching the crystal get blown, molded, cut, and detailed. From beginning to end. Learning all about how the pieces are made - being allowed to talk to the craftsmen as we wandered about. I was honestly surprised they let us see every asset of the process and I would highly recommend it to anyone in the area. Really educational and fun. I will admit though, I was slightly dissapointed. As a child I always thought crystal was some sort of rock, like limestone or marble that was pulled out of the ground and milled down. Because of the tour, I learned it is just glass with a certain level of lead in it (33% for Waterford). Bummer. This whole time I had thought it was miles apart from everyday glass. Damn.

After the tour, we walked around for a bit before we got back into the car. What came next? More driving of course! All the way to our final destination for the day, Killarney. We were staying in a cute little bed and breakfast nestled along the coast of a river. Pulling in, I couldn't believe how picturesque it was. It seemed absolutely perfect, until we met our host for the night Kathy, and it only got better. She welcomed us with open arms, a warm smile, and a thick brogue. She showed us to our room, gave us a brief tour, and let us be for the night. After doing a little research, we found a restaurant and went out to grab a bite to eat, gorging ourselves on lasagna, shepherd's pie, and chicken. Returning back to the bed and breakfast, I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow - exhausted from the driving.

Tomorrow began a new day. The Ring of Kerry, the town of Dingle, and making our way to Galway.

Dublin Day Two

I apologize for going silent for a week. Ireland was crazy and at the end of every day, instead of sitting down and writing, I crashed hard. I was exhausted by the time we checked into wherever we were staying for the night. So let me fill in you on everything that happened.

We awoke day two, charged and ready to attack Dublin aggressively. We each grabbed a bagel, some coffee and tea from a local cafe, and went out exploring. Stop number one? The Old Jameson Distillery. We aimed for the 10 o'clock tour (I'm dedicated to my whiskey) but missed it by a few minutes, so we had to settle for the 11 o'clock tour instead. And boy was it fantastic. Seeing the old machines, hearing the story of John Jameson, and of course tasting it. I even became a "certified" Jameson taste tester, certificate and all.

Next, belly's warm from the whiskey, we wandered over to the Guinness Storehouse. Yup. Double duty on the booze. Now I understand I same the Jameson Distillery was fantastic, but the Guinness Storehouse was literally like the Willy Wonka of beer. Waterfalls, large containers of malt, interactive videos, tastings. I felt like a kid in a candy store. Running around, reading all the signs, watching all the videos - completely enthralled. Best part? At the end of the tour, you end up in the Sky Bar, a giant glass bar at the top of the storehouse with panoramic views of Dublin. It was absolutely breathtaking. Throw in a free pint upon arrival and I really couldn't be much happier. We ended up meeting a nice older couple from South Africa while sipping on our pints and shared life stories with them before finishing our drinks and heading out back into the city.

From Guinness, all a little tipsy by this point, we headed through the antiques section of Dublin, down to the Church of Christ and an old castle in the middle of the city. Both were stunning. The architecture,  stained glass, history embedded within. Truly unlike anything you can find in this country. After the tour of the church, we sat out in a park for a little bit relaxing, before heading over to Trinity College.

Unfortunately by the time we got there, the library was closed (shucks) but the campus was still great. Rich in history, encased by beautiful buildings, lush lawns, and cobblestones galore. I'd compare it to George Washington or Princeton, but lets be real, Trinity came first and those others can't touch it.

After Trinity we did some brief trinket and souvenir shopping. Nothing too special, but like any trip, necessary. When shopped out, we made our way back to our flat where we recharged before heading back into the city to the Arlington Hotel for dinner and some live Irish music and a step dance show. I'm sure I sound like a broken record, but the meal, music, and dancing were all amazing. I had a lovely lamb stew, listened to some great music (heck, they even played one of my favorite Flogging Molly songs), and was mesmerized by the dancing. Through the entire night my mom couldn't stop smiling - which was the best outcome.

Stomachs full, we trudged back upstairs and passed out. Ready to leave early to drive down through Waterford, Kilkenny, and eventually end up in Killarney to drive the Ring of Kerry.

Dublin Day One

So we made it here. Alive and well. Air Lingus was well beyond my expectations and the flight was extremely easy. Only a short five hours. When my mother and I first landed we got some tea, coffee, and breakfast as we waited for my brother to arrive a few hours later. Eventually he made it and the adventure really began. 

First step was getting our rental car. We chose not to pay for insurance so I have the added pressure of not crashing. Oh boy. And they drive on the wrong side of the road here - which, to be honest hasn't been that bad. Only slightly harrowing in certain parts of downtown Dublin. So yes, we're in Dublin now. Mom and bro are recharging with quick naps and I'm just wandering around taking in what I can myself. Before they crashed we walked around for a bit, got lunch (first real meal was bangers and mash), had my first Guinness. WAY better here than in the states and checked into  the apartment we are staying in. Who knows what is on store for tonight but we'll determine that when they wake up. 

Bangers!

Apartment view. 

Song of the Day (Drunken Lullabies) 05.17.13

I've made it through the week of 15 hour days. God damn. I knew I'd be dragging but I didn't expect to be hurtin' this much by the end of it. Oh well, I survived right? Onto the Guinnes, meat, and potatoes!

Right and I suppose some music.

I'm not diving into it tonight. Take it for what you want. I just don't have much to say about either song. They just feel right and dammit, you're going to enjoy them (I hope).

Song one is just unavoidable. I've posted some music by them before but I just have to share some more with you today. I found them back during my freshman year in high school and have loved them ever since. Their energy, stage presence, lyrics, melodies, fun attitude, and the fact that they are Irish. As I'm sure you guessed it, this is Flogging Molly with "Drunken Lullabies" (which I'm sure perfectly sums up what the next week with encompass).

Cliche much?




Song number two comes from a completely different direction. For anyone out there who likes Bon Iver or The Black Keys, this should be right up your alley. The next song has the unique, bluesy rock and roll sound of The Black Keys, but is from a band led by Bon Ivar frontman, Justin Vernon. Apparently he felt a little burnt out from Bon Iver and decided to spontaneously form a side group and release a record with them. I just love everything about the new group's sound. Fun. Raw. Dirty. This is The Shouting Matches, "Mother, When?"

To the Homeland

Obviously I love Spain. I've only been there once. Only seen a fraction of it. But it left a lasting impression on me. The sights, sounds, tastes, smells, people, culture. Everything about it was absolutely stunning. It also didn't hurt to have one of the best guides for my trip. Showing me the ins and outs. Telling me what I needed to see, eat, drink. Honestly, I hope I can make it back soon. It really was a trip of a lifetime - as most of you can tell, since I'm still talking about it today.

So why exactly do I bring it up now? Well, tomorrow I leave to begin another journey. One that'll bring me back across the ocean. To the homeland - Ireland. Am I excited? Yes. I can't wait to drink real Guinness, taste true Irish Whiskey, walk along the alleyways of historic Dublin, feel the cobblestones beneath my feet, wait for flocks of sheep to cross the road, struggle to understand the local accents. But back to my original thought. The video I'm sharing with you is of a Spanish Road trip. No - not mine, although I'd be more than happy to share it with you again. It's of a couple who traveled throughout all of Spain and documented their drive via video. Originally, I wanted to just mimic the kind of piece I made earlier in the year, but after watching what is below, I'm inspired to change my plan. I love the contrasting footage, the multiple shots shown at once, the attention of the little things that would often be forgotten. So watch below and imagine this, with more time lapse, thousands of photos, Guinness, potatoes, and lots and lots and lots of pastures and some cliffs.

Oh - and the reason I'm not posting an actual video about Ireland is that I can't find a good one. I'm utterly shocked at the lack of Ireland pieces out there. So, consider this a challenge that I am accepting. To create and contribute to the web, an absolutely beautiful, short documentary about my time there.

And I promise to post next week as I can, when I can. Although, that is all dependent on wifi. See you on the other side!


A Spanish Roadtrip from The Perennial Plate on Vimeo.

Pedaling On

It was nights like these that were her favorite. Riding down the middle of the walkway, swerving ever so slightly right to left, snaking across the shimmering stone blocks beneath her. Not a care in the world. No one to run into. The path was her's and she was going to take as much advantage of it as she could.

The air was still thick with moisture from the rain that had fallen earlier in the night. As she rode along, she breathed in deeply, taking in as much of the rich ozone aroma that she could. It was a pleasant change from the smog that usually lingered between the buildings during the day. Spewed out form the thousands of cars that roamed the streets. It just hung there - clogging the streets. An unpleasant acrid scent that attacked the throat and blotted out the sun. Every time it rained, it was a salvation. The sky would just open up and wash away the filth. Knock it down to the ground, sweeping it along until being sucked into a storm drain. She was always surprised at how clean everything looked after a storm. Every surface glistened as if brand new. Littered with thousands of tiny droplets.

As she continued on, it was nice to let her mind wander a bit. Just float away from her body for a few moments. Not anywhere in particular, but just out, allowed to stretch and catch a breath. It was refreshing to not think for a moment. To just ride along, lost in the dull red glow of the lanterns stretching out before her. Listening to her tires thumping against the spaces between the blocks, the slight squeaking of rubber against wet stone. There was something surreal and serene about it. Just her senses at work. No thoughts or subconscious. Rolling along.

When she had first been assigned the late shift, she was dissappointed. Feared that she would be missing out on time with her family. Thinking about not making it home in time for dinner upset her. Missing the chance to hear about everyone's days, unwind in the company of others. It had been a routine she looked forward to the last few years. The first couple nights were the hardest. Dragging by. Her body wasn't used to the time change and she hadn't prepared. By the time she walked through her front door she wanted to collapse. But she knew she had to adjust for the sake of her family. To help put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads. After a couple weeks, the shift didn't seem so brutal. Her biological clock had synced and she looked forward to the ride home every night. Especially after a storm.

Nearing the end of the path, the sky began to open up again. Spitting precipitation down onto her. Prompting her to pedal faster. It wouldn't be long before she was at her front door. Just a few more blocks and she'd be there.

The thought of kissing her children as they slept in their beds was all the motivation she needed to hurry up.

Those Little Unassuming Moments

As he sat there, it was hard to find fault in anything.

The sky was bright blue - an endless sea stretching on forever. Not a cloud for miles to taint the view. The air was pure. Crisp from the winter winds that were sweeping through the city. His ears invited the sound of the river bubbling below. Absolutely soothing. In his hands the little expresso did its job. Keeping them warm. Its aroma wafting up to his nose, bringing a smile to his face. It was fresh. Hot. With just the right amount of sugar and cream. He knew it would taste divine. Looking down into the cup, it almost looked too perfect to disturb.

In front of him, people were just gliding by. Each in their own world. He saw individuals, chatting away on their phones. Looking down at their feet as they crossed the bridge, minding their own business, not interested in those around them. Couples walking hand in hand. Smiling and laughing together. The occasional family. A father carrying a little daughter on his shoulder or a mother pushing her new born in a stroller. Groups of tourists wandered by. Cameras hanging around their necks. Their eyes wide, searching for the perfect shot. School children giggled and ran through the crowds, dodging in and out, racing to the other end of the structure.

It seemed surreal. Everyone around him was adhering to some sort of schedule. They had places to go. People to see. But he just stood there, soaking it all in. Not a care in the world. No where specific that he needed to be. Operating on his own time, bound by nothing. And to his right was the reason for all of that. Standing just like he was, back pressed against the granite wall, surveying everything that was happening before her. It wasn't about the location. The environment. Or even the perfect little cup of expresso that was still radiating warmth into his hands. It was strictly about the company. How without any spoken words he felt like he was in a conversation. That a simple look or smile stole the breath that was in his lungs. Somehow she managed to make him feel embraced even if they were standing a few feet apart.

It was one of the few times he could remember being completely at ease. No sort of pressure weighing down upon him. His heart was light. Pushing against the inside of his chest - wanting to escape and float away. He wished that this moment would never end. He wanted to live within that little bubble forever. With the clear sky, pure air, delicious coffee, and perfect company.

He had gone on the search for something true and was almost there when he met you.

Sharing a Path

Every time he walked down the path, the memories of his childhood bombarded him. He could remember every moment. Running between the trees. Climbing branches, striving to make it higher than he did the day before. Snapping twigs over his knee and throwing the shattered pieces deeper into the woods. Smelling the freshly decaying leaves. Pungent and invasive. The dank aroma of growing moss. The memories brought him back to his younger days. When his life seemed that much simpler. His joints weren't sore in the morning. His back didn't argue with him when he got out of bed. When sleeping until eleven o'clock didn't seem impossible - but was expected.

It had been some time since he had last wandered into the woods. Years. Time had flown by. Grey had begun to creep into the stubble on his chin. He had matured. Become a man. No longer able to spend every afternoon and evening amongst the trees - having to venture out into the world to make a living. Find a job. Pay rent. Make something of himself. And he had. Moving around, eventually finding his niche, where be belonged. He became comfortable. Settled down, met the one, and started a family. And the years had continued to tick by. Their children grew so fast. It seemed like days between when they were crawling and walking. Hours separating when they rode the bus for the first time and were walking down the aisle, high school diploma in hand. Then they were out on their own. First for college, then out to explore the world themselves - leaving the nest for good.

As the years kept on, his and her lives together started to slow down. No longer was there a draw to the big city. They weren't young anymore. The hustle and bustle didn't have an appeal like it once had. So they packed up their things, taping them securely into boxes and began a new adventure. Heading back to a quieter place. Somewhere more suiting.

He was excited to show her the path. To hear the crinkling of leaves underneath his feet again. To smell the musk of autumn, hanging thick in the air. Share a piece of his childhood with her. It almost seemed sacred. Hidden from the rest of the world. He felt honored to be showing her this part of his life. Couldn't wait to dive into the stories, showing her the trees he conquered, the rocks he peered under, or the stream in which he skipped stones for hours. But the moment they reached the mouth of the path and her looked over at her, he was speechless. The reflection of the sun off the leaves had illuminated her auburn hair as if it were ablaze, accenting the perfect curves of her face. Eyes twinkling like dark pols in the evening light. And for that moment, he was beside himself. Reminded that he had found the most beautiful woman in the world and shared a life with her. And just like that, the desire to share his memories with her diminished. So he took her hand in his, and started down the path.

There was no need to share his memories when he only had more to make with her.

Happy Mother's Day

It's rare that I post on the weekends, but today, it just seems fitting.

Recently I was lucky enough to help be a part of a Mother's Day fundraiser/auction for a local LA school. My role? To put together a piece for all the mothers of the children. Man - did I had an absolute blast. All the kids were phenominal. Super cute, helpful, and for the most part, good listeners (although, I will admit some just stared at the camera in confusion).

Overall, I think this covers Mother's Day pretty well and how we all feel about our respective moms.

But Mom - thanks for everything. You've been my number one fan and supporter throughout all these years. Helping me to move across the country, find myself as a man, and push me along when everything hasn't gone my way. You've taught me respect, dignity, and how to always keep my head held high. I wouldn't be half the person I am today without you. With the new developments that have taken place in your life, I can only hope that I can contribute a shred of what you've given me over the last 25 years.

Thanks for everything. Love you.

And as the description to the video says: Although this was specifically made for the parents of these children, it is safe to say the messages found within apply to all mothers out there.

Happy Mother's Day!

Thanks For All The Love from Andrew Kalicki on Vimeo.

Song of the Day (The Only Place) 05.10.13

Seriously? The second week in May already? God damn - time just continues truckin' by.

I'll be the first to say that I'm glad this week is over. It's been tough, on multiple levels, for multiple reasons. I just need the weekend to get here to let my mind ease a bit.

Let's not dwell on that though - it's over, we've made it through the week together. Now let's dive into the music.

Song numero uno is very much "west coast." It's some modern surf rock. Yeah, I know my last post kinda tore into LA a bit, but I still live out here and I recognize it as my home. Plus, the music is just so damn good. So roll with it. The song is totally a feel good, bop around (preferably on the beach) tune. Lyrically, no, its not very deep, but it's a love letter to the west coast. As they say, "we've got the ocean, got the babes, got the sun, we've got the waves."  And I'll agree. For now, this is the only place for me. Hope you enjoy Best Coast's "The Only Place."




Song numero dos isn't getting much of an explanation. It just feels right at the moment. Lyrically it's poignant and melodically, it's super catchy. It doesn't need much more than that. This is Good Old War's "Can't Go Home."

My Home

You know, thinking about it, it's all pretty funny. I've lived out here for almost three years and I know I promote the city a lot. But to be honest, I have a love hate relationship with LA. While I cherish it for being the film capitol of the world and where I need to be, I also have a disdain for the industry. The types of people that live here - no problem stepping on others to get to where they want to be. Yes - I know this is pretty much the case for any and all fields/industries - but I do honestly feel it is a different breed out here. Now, don't get me wrong either - I've met some of the most wonderful people thus far in my life out here in LA. I'm not saying all people are bad. Just the select few. Are there other parts about LA I love? Absolutely. The climate. That the beach is right there. The cool, laid-back demeanor of Southern California. So where exactly am I going with all this? Other than spelling out my loves and my hates? One of my biggest gripes is that LA isn't a "beautiful" city. Sure, the sunsets are amazing, so is the ocean, but when we're talking about the city itself, it's just "blah." It doesn't stand a chance being compared to San Francisco, New York, Boston, or even Chicago (I won't even get into European cities because they're in a whole different league). It's just too spread out. Downtown is tiny. There are too many suburbs. Theres just not enough history here. But, Los Angeles as a whole, is gorgeous.

Is that confusing? Ok - let me explain. To this day, in my mind, LA isn't a city. It's hundreds of different little communities jam packed into one collective body. Each with its own unique style and flare. Most of which, I don't think the typical person gets to see - the cultures, lifestyles, architecture. The piece I'm about to show you highlights all of this. Personally, I think the following film is absolutely gorgeous. Not only because of the colors, camera work, or editing. No - because it focuses on the mundane. The everyday life in all the smaller, less seen parts of LA. The first time I saw it I was absolutely mesmerized. Sucked in. Hell, I didn't even recognize most of these spots, but I thought everything was beautiful and now have a desire to go out and find every single one of them. Honestly - this is just eye porn. Glorious eye porn.

And don't get me wrong. I love LA but sometimes I just want to run away for a while.


Balmorhea - Pyrakantha [official] from Colin Kennedy on Vimeo.



Wooh - ok, I guess above is a little heavy. So want something a little happier? Feel good? Not to say the piece above isn't happy or feel good - but I have something up my sleeve for you to ride into the weekend.

I'm not even going to go into details about it. Let's just settle on that it's cute, involves kids, and trying news foods for the first time. Oh right, and the fact that it is shot in slow motion only helps.

Recuerdos de Verano

They had both waited so long for this. Nearly eight months. For the moon to hang just right in the sky. The tide to rise perfectly along the shore. The weather to finally turn and become pleasant - warm enough that all they needed was a light cardigan at night.

It was their release. A few times a week throughout the summer. To meet at the end of their street and walk down to the coast, arms full of equipment, rods slung over their shoulders, cooler filled with cerveza. They didn't care if the fish weren't running or that their lines remained slack, drifting aimlessly in the waves. They were there to unwind and enjoy one another's company - even the occasional cigarette. Their wives were back home, comfortable and asleep in their beds, knowing that their husbands were out rehashing old times amongst the dunes.

And rehash they did. After a few cold brews had slid down their throats, the stories began to come out. Of their first kisses. Their first girlfriends. How the first time either of them were arrested, they were actually together, spray painting a cop car. Not because they had a reason - only because it seemed like the hip thing to do at the time. They laughed at one another. The many mistakes throughout their lives. Cried for one another. About lost loves and siblings. They smiled at the thought of being young again. With joints that didn't ache the moment they woke up. Hair that wasn't grey. But they didn't linger on those thoughts to long. There were too many stories to share. The first steps of their children. The joy they felt when learning they were going to be grandparents. How happy they were the moment they each realized they had found the love of their lives.

There was just something so magical about sharing stories with one another. As if the memories somehow seeped into their bodies and revitalized them - made them feel younger and looser. More alive.

Neither was really sure what it actually was.

It was either that or the cerveza.

Word of Warning

Tomorrow I embark on a week of 15 hour days. So I thought I'd do the responsible thing, and let you, the reader, know that if my writing suffers, or is sub-par, it's not because I've lost respect for you or interest in my blog - it's just because I'll be dead ass tired. I'll do my best to keep posting as I usually do, with the same quality of content. But I make no promises.

So please bear with me for the next seven days.

Roji

Regardless of how dark the alleyway was that stretched out before her, she would be able to find her way. Sometimes she even challenged herself - closing her eyes at its mouth and slowly making her way down, deeper and deeper into the shadows.

It was one of those unassuming alleyways. It didn't garner much attention from the average tourist or citizen who may happen to pass by. During the day, frankly, it was rather boring. Lined with shops. Fresh produce on display. The occasional trinket to try and lure in said tourists. Nothing out of the ordinary. It didn't offer beyond what one of the other hundred alleyways already had nestled away. At night it was even more unassuming. Most of the lights were turned of - bathing anything beyond the glow of the streetlights in darkness. What could be seen from the street didn't seem too appealing. Piles of garbage, waiting to be picked up. Stray cats and dogs roaming between heaps - hoping to find their meal for the day. The neon signs hummed, casting an eerie echo into the shadows. Paper lanterns rustling in the occasional gust of wind. To anyone else but her, it surely seemed dangerous.

An alleyway perfect for mugging.

But she knew it wasn't. It was a safe neighborhood. There were no gangs present. No Yakuza. They held territories in the much larger cities and wouldn't dare be caught wasting their time in such menial places. The worst reported crime the past year had involved a stolen car - which turned out to be parked around the corner. The city itself was harmless, as was its residents. So as dark as it may appear, she knew the path before her was safe.

She had walked down it so many time that the whole process was engraved into her brain. The first few times she had counted the sewer grates for reference. But now she did it without even a second thought - knowing that she would connect to the next street shortly after walking over number six. The animals that burrowed through the trash, as mangy as they appeared, were as friendly as could be. Just yearning for attention. Over the years she had grown attached to them - often times trying to sneak food from the office to give to them on the way home. She also knew that by step one hundred and fifteen, the overpowering smell of gyoza would invade her nostrils and tie her stomach in a knot. Each night she'd wish that the little storefront would be open, knowing well before she even began her walk home that it wouldn't be. They were the best dumplings in town and their aroma teased her the entire way - until she rounded the corner onto the main street. The green onion, savory pork, friend dough all popping into her mind. Seeping out from behind the doorframe. It was pure torture. But at least she knew that once she smelled them, she was only fifty three more steps from the other end.

Sometimes she had thought about it. There were quicker ways to the office. Shorter ways. Routes that were much more well lit. Yet none of that mattered. She loved the little things about her routine. How she felt protected by the alley, in good company of the cats and dogs. But what she loved most was the fact that it was hers.

And she was going to keep it that way.

Move Along

There once was a little boy. Who grew up in a far land. Not anything like where he was today. Since he was a child he knew the outdoors. Grew accustomed to the wilderness. Surrounded by tall mountains - rounded with age. Raised on a valley floor, in between towering trees. Woken by calling birds, greeted by thick mist that rolled in from the forest. He loved nature. Spending hours in it everyday. Running through the woods, tracing the banks of rivers and streams, looking under rocks and stumps for creatures. But somewhere deep down, he knew it wouldn't last forever. He'd have to grow up. Abandon the wild. Mature. And hope that one day he would be able to return. Back to where he was raised.

As the years passed, he grew like the forests around him. He could feel himself growing taller and wider - shoulders becoming broader, chin more pronounced. Until he didn't fit at home anymore. So he ventured away, further than he ever had. For years. To study and evolve. Learn about the world in ways he didn't think he could or ever would. Pickup a new craft. To ultimately set forth down the path to determine what kind of man he would become. He met many new people. Crafted bonds with some that would last a lifetime, while also becoming aware of those he did not wish to associate with. For the first time he felt truly independent, like he had created his own life. But it all ended too abruptly. And those he had tucked away into his heart disbanded. Friends, loved ones - his family, all ventured forth in their own directions, to find their own lives and define who they would be.

And so did he.

After a long journey over mountains, through great plains, down winding, twisting roads, he finally reached his new home. For all he could have known, it was on the other side of the world. So far from where he associated home. And he was alone. Left to plant himself in the new environment. Hoping that it would not take long for his roots to take hold and he could begin to flourish. Luckily it didn't. There were a few moments of concern early, but they quickly faded and he became comforterable. Aiming, like everyone else he knew, for the American dream. It was exhilarating. Being in control. Living how he wanted. But he quickly learned how jaded it all was.

Success revolved around capitol. Wealth. Economic status. He was young. None of that mattered to him. He saw through the guises of those around him. Down to the dark, spoiled cores that were hidden beneath all the layers. The glint in everyone's eyes. Looking for the first opportunity to get ahead. Soon work became a chore. No longer was it fun. Didn't pull out his passion. Instead, it drained him. Sucked him dry. Leaving him wanting more. A shriveled husk. He had become so involved. Needed to take a step back. And he tried to.

It didn't take long to pack all of his things. He hadn't left home with much. Just the essentials and a few trinkets he had picked up along the way. There was no real plan. Just to escape. Get as far away as he could. So he headed north. To a magical city he had heard about, nestled along the coast, connected by great iron bridges. The closer he got, the thicker the air became. Choked with moisture. It didn't take him long until he finally reached his destination. A city on the bay. Bright and beautiful. Accepting of all types of people and culture. Teaming with life and vitality. As he sat there on the bluff, looking down at the city, it was the first time in years that he felt invigorated. His heart beat with excitement deep down in his chest. Off in the distance he could see the great forests that littered the hills on the other side of the bay - trees taller and thicker than he had ever seen before. The air smelled sweet and tasted clean - intoxicating to his lungs which hadn't felt something so pure in quite some time.

And for the first time in years, he felt young again. Like a little boy. Excited to take his first steps into the world by himself. Precautionary and safe - unsure of what was out there. Butterflies were welling up in his stomach, begging for release. It was something he hadn't felt in a long time. It felt good.

It felt like he was home.

Song of the Day (Cats and Dogs) 05.03.13

Well, I'm back from paradise. I can't say I'm too thrilled, but the show must go on right?

And here we are. The first weekend in May. I remember as a kid my parents told me that once I hit college, time would fly and I'll be the first to admit just how right they were. Those four years zipped by before I even realized I was packing to leave Ithaca. But I never expected that life would remain in fast forward. I've almost been in LA for three years. And to be honest, I swear it is just picking up speed. It's kinda scary.

Anywho - enough with that philosophical jargon. We're all at this location for a reason. It's Friday. And on Friday, we have music. So let's dive into it.

The first song is on the shorter side, but then again, who ever said anything about songs needing to be long to be enjoyable? It comes from a band formed out of Seattle named The Head and the Heart. I can't really place them under a single genre, but according to Wikipedia, they can be considered "sub pop." What that exactly means? I'm not sure - but I'll go with it. The following song is light, fluffy, has a great chorus, and a driving beat. One that you can really get behind and just want to sing to. It's a good song to drive up and down the coast to, windows open - breeze playing in your hair. This is The Head and the Heart's "Cats and Dogs."




Song number two is by the same band and the same album. Say what!? Just wait - because I have even more for you. It actually comes right after "Cats and Dogs." It's one of those songs that transitions into the other with no break, hopefully tricking the listener to not even realizing the change. If you don't know what I mean by this, a great example of songs like this can be found on The Beatles' album Abbey Road (starting with "Mean Mr. Mustard" and going through until "The End"). No one does it better than The Beatles, but I love when musicians blend songs together so effortlessly. Much like "Cats and Dogs," the following song is light-hearted, cheery, but I think the true magic comes with the sudden change in melody near the end (along with the lyrics). Sure, by listening to these two in order via two seperate youtube links the magic of their seamlessness is lost - but just imagine it. I promise it sounds great on the album. This is "Coeur D'Alene."

Brooklyn Sole

So I saw this video a little while ago and it just grabbed me. Something about it is just extremely charming. It could be that it takes place in Brooklyn, the camera work, or the little old man, Frank, that it follows. And on top of all of that, the music in the background is just perfect.

His weathered hands. That warm smile. Soulful eyes behind the glasses.

I love Frank's journey and story. How he started young, helped his father and just kept going strong. Working in the shop, eventually buying the shop, keeping the tradition strong. I think there is something increasingly important about that. In a world full of corporations - independent business is something we still need. If I'm presented with the opportunity, I will always support a small business over a large one. They are what the country was founded on. And we need to remember where our roots are.

There is just something about Frank. His humor. His cheery attitude. The fact that he is "90 and a half." I also find it amazing that he refuses to retire - even if he isn't as able as he once was.

I'd love to spend a day with Frank, to hear his stories, witness his routine, just absorb his energy.

He's won me over.

The Shoemaker from Dustin Cohen on Vimeo.

Omelette

After a long week, I just need something to make me smile. Something light-hearted, colorful, engaging.

And the video below is just that.

A student film, it has everything I'm looking for. Great animation, cute story, great background music. I'm not going for anything deep here. Just a fun piece, to help you escape for a little bit.

Oh - and the French doesn't hurt.

Omelette from Madeline Sharafian on Vimeo.

Companionship

As he sat there, the waves below him began to slowly disappear out deeper into the sea. No longer were they crashing against the cliffs below. Throwing themselves against the rocks. Shattering and smashing into nothing but white foam and sprays of mist. They knew what time of day it was. They had the same routine everyday. Dying down as the sun fell below the horizon. Painting the sky orange, highlighting the wisps of the last few cresting waves. He could feel the air getting cooler around him. Circulating out with a breeze that was coming off of the ocean, heading towards the land. A few hours ago his skin singed under the sun. Browning then becoming a lush pink. Covered in sweat. Pores open - doing their best to cool him down. But now the wind licked at his t-shirt and pants. Sucking out moisture from earlier in the day. Pushing the fabrics against his skin, bringing out a thick layer of goosebumps. He began to shiver as the stars began to come out above him, dancing in the sky. Twinkling brightly.

There really is nothing like the night sky near the ocean.

The longer he thought about it, the more it all made sense. Next to him was all that he owned. Packed away in a tiny little duffle bag. Easily considered a carryon by any airline. No need to check it. There was only enough to make it through the week. All he'd need for where he was headed. And his camera to document his journey.

Behind him there wasn't much of a path to follow. He had quit his job. Sold his posessions. Donated the clothing he didn't need. Pooled his money in an international account. And said goodbye to his family and friends. He wanted no constraints. Not to be tied down. To live. Experience. Explore. He wasn't happy. He wanted out. So he bought a one way ticket and began his journey. Heading West. With no real destination in mind. The plane was like any other he had taken before. Dimly lit. Crammed with other people. Stale air pumped through the vents - drying his lips as he slept. The occasional movie took his mind off the passing time. His joints ached. Neck was stiff.

When he finally stepped out of the terminal, he just started walking. Past the pleading cab drivers and bus attendants. Out through the entrance gates and towards the coast, mind empty. It was one of the most relaxed moments he could remember. Not a single through floated between his ears. There was no stress. No concerns. He had no agenda. No schedule. As his continued down towards the water, the occasional person would nod their head at him, wishing him well. He'd smile back, glad he already felt welcome regardless of the language barrier.

Eventually he made it to the water and he immediately began climbing the hill that stretched out ahead of him. Reaching the top after a while - finding the perfect spot to sit down and soak in the view. He was completely alone at what felt like the top of the world. The longer he sat, the more he was at ease. At the apex of the afternoon he pondered stripping off his clothes and jumping from his perch - into the crashing waves below - timing it perfectly so that he'd be swept out of sea, away from the rocks. Out further into the ocean. Into the unknown.

When the sun had begun to fall he was caught off guard. His mind began to race. He could feel it deep down in his chest. Working its way out towards his fingertips, through his limbs. It wasn't that he had no where to go, no job, no bed to call his own. It manifested itself out of want. He had just begun the greatest adventure of his life - a rebirth. A time to call his own. The first actual moment he was completely in control.

But truthfully, all he really wanted was someone to share it with.