You ever have a week where, when you get the end, you realize that you've spent an inordinate amount of time just staring off into space? What? That's every week for you? I can sympathize.
It's true, it has been one of those weeks. For reasons that are not entirely clear to me (or which will become clear to me right after I publish this thing, making me wish I'd mulled this over a little more) there has been a whole lot of fuzzy thought going on. A pile of brain scatter. This happens to me every so often and the true indicator is that some events seem dreamlike and non-specific. For instance, I wrote reviews of the new R.E.M. and Devendra Banhart CD's but can barely remember doing so. Weird.
A few nights ago I saw an interview with Rainn Wilson. It wasn't about The Office (which is good because I hate that show and would have changed the channel…or at least maybe turned the volume down and continued to stare off into the distance) but about spirituality. That word is sort of cringe-inducing in my mind but Wilson had an interesting idea with his website Soul Pancake. The site's mission is: "We want to make discussions about Spirituality, Creativity, and Philosophy cool again." It's an interesting idea and there's quite a lot of thought-provoking content and discussions going on there.
So far, my favorite post has been What's the most beautiful thing you've experienced this week? It shook me back to the reality that, despite episodes of DroolStare™, I still do look at the world with a writer's eye. Found objects/sounds contain infinities of beauty. Why just yesterday, I stumbled onto a story about Icelandic composer Ólafur Arnalds, who recorded a piece once a day and tossed it out into the digi-ether via twitter. A really great idea with some moving music attached.
Hmm…what else? Well, I did finally get my post-surgical splint off last week, so I have my hand/wrist back. In truth, that was sort of ugly/beauty. The parts don't all work yet and it's all kind of wrinkly and pathetic. Still, it is my hand.
No, the most beautiful experience came last Friday night. At a show of local performers, sandwiched in between free jazz mavens Sisters and Brothers and the toga party acid trip of Ros Bobos, was the electronic oddity of Eric Hnatow. There was just something about being in a room full of pleasure seekers, watching a guy dance around draped in Christmas lights, as the music throbbed our inner organs. It made me forget about a whole lot of stuff that needed forgetting. It was a beautiful thing.