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June 28, 2007
Howdy
We've been forced to delete several Gallery pictures lately because of spam infestations: the vile culprits typically post an unbelievable number of "comments" on a photo, each of which must be individually deleted. It's a tedious and infuriating process, so I generally scrap the affected shot rather than attempting to clean it up. Too bad...
After the current production frenzy abates in mid-July it'll be time to give the entire site a serious overhaul. Although most entries in this journal/blog are throwaway day-to-day blather, there's a lot of substantive musical material buried deep, deep in the archives-- and who takes the time to wade through all that ancient history? Practically nobody, that's for sure. In the past, when I've written something useful and informative and plopped it in the blog, the tacit mindset has been OK, I've covered THAT subject now-- on to other things! But what long-term good is it, since very few visitors who haven't followed this opus from day one are likely to dig deeply in search of a few hidden nuggets?
Sheesh, even I virtually never venture into the Archives, so how can we expect casual flute truthseekers to do so? Ain't gonna happen for the most part, so it's up to me to excavate the useful blog artifacts and recompile them in some readily accessible form. And after that's done, there's still the "button departments" to deal with, whose cringingly archaic content I've already bemoaned for ages. --Arrrgghhh!
Well, that's where we stand... y'all know what hell's highway engineers used for paving material, right? --r.
Posted by Romy
11:21 PM PST
The Flute Zone
Been in the zone the last few days: the zone where all that Is is flutemaking, from dawn until long after dark. Two weeks from tomorrow we decamp to camp at the Oregon Country Fair, the sole substantial show still on my yearly calendar. It's actually refreshing to get into the Zone again, and surely there must be some way to harness that manic energy without the whip-cracking dread of an imminent deadline. For now, I'm riding the familiar wave of old-time madness which formerly arrived multiple times per year as various events loomed: every dawn finds me thinking of the instruments which were half-finished the day before, and those that are yet to be begun. How can the next flute be a bit better than the one that came before, and how can this single-minded instrumental energy be optimally channelled to peak at the right moment two weeks hence?
This is how the best work gets done, in the heat of forced creative fervor; unfortunately I've never been disciplined enough to efficiently convert unhurried leisure time into slow, incremental productivity. Instead the Fear must loom to prod me into frenzied action, and that fear will rule the Complex over the next two weeks.
"Fear" of what? --Well, it's merely the dread of showing up without enough stuff to fill the racks for a three-day stand. Silly, yes-- but it serves its purpose, and perhaps I should return to a schedule of several yearly shows. The irreverent and totally un-businesslike tone of this website is calculated to deflect such fears: would-be customers are obliged to make detailed inquiries before placing "orders" which may or may not be ultimately realized... good thing I no longer request advance payment!
Well, it's late and I'm tired. Ten hours of flutegrinding await tomorrow... more on these themes soon. --r.
Posted by Romy
12:10 AM PST
June 26, 2007
Checking in tersely
Things have been slow here on the site lately, and yet the Complex is humming with new instrument-making activity-- news of which should presently arrive in the blog and the gallery.
Days are just too short, even at the peak of the temperate Northern Hemisphere's summer. --r.
Posted by Romy
10:43 PM PST
June 24, 2007
Stale typos
It sucks to revisit an entry from awhile back and immediately notice overlooked typos. A friend recently requested the Yambrosia recipe, so I sent her a link to our April 22nd opus revealing the Secret Formula. Unfortunately, in the original recipe I'd written "preserve the water-soluble vegetables," instead of "preserve the water-soluble vitamins." Why didn't anybody point that out sooner-- where's my proofreading crew?
What I ought to do is get about a month ahead of the curve; there's not much real-time commentary on this site anyway, so if most of these entries were written several weeks in advance it'd hardly matter. That way, each submission could be tweaked, honed and corrected long before its public debut. What a great idea! (Off now to compose July 24th entry)
[Added a bit later] Uncharacteristically, I've taken almost no photographs over the last few weeks and haven't added to the Gallery in some time. So, here's a shot of nasturtium leaves with clinging raindrops, which really doesn't do justice to the effect: as the individual raindrops hit those horizontally-held leaves this morning, they performed a strikingly beautiful surface-tension spiral dance, finallly coalescing in the middle. Isn't Nature wonderful? --r.
Posted by Romy
04:36 PM PST
June 21, 2007
Solstice Eve
Summer solstice tomorrow-- actually it's today, since this is being written after midnight on Solstice Eve. After that, we again begin our long slow slog to the dark days of December. Here in the Pacific Northwest it's been unseasonably chilly for the last couple of weeks; feels more like March or April. Our sole mostly-dry weather window falls over the next two to three months, with the highest temperatures typically arriving mid-July through August.
If you can't think of anything else to say, the weather is a reliable conversational gambit! Sorry about the dearth of postings lately, but I've been quite busy with other Stuff-- mostly house and yard work around the Swamp Shack, with a few hours of flutework squeezed into opportune moments.
I'd resolved long in advance not to suffer through a last-moment two-week rush in preparation for the Oregon Country Fair, with those familiar twelve-hour days spent frantically grinding bamboo. Unfortunately, it now appears that the Rush is inevitable... sheesh, you'd think that with just one major show remaining on the yearly calendar it'd be simple to stock up amply long in advance. But no... fortunately, the Fair falls relatively late in July this year so we're still about a week from the real crunch-time.
Ever tried to trap a mole? Since the Swamp Shack sits in a wooded area bounded on one side by a creek and on another by the mighty Tualatin River, quite a few moles get funneled into the area, and if left unchecked they burrow throughout the yard and make a shambles of the lawn and garden. So far this spring I've caught six of 'em, a new record! It's actually quite tricky to trap moles effectively, and a surprising amount of analysis, planning and meticulous excavation goes into each trap placement.
More moles will always eventually arrive to take the place of the eliminated ones, and since it's now been quiet for a week or so I'm thinking about approaching the immediate neighbors and offering to catch any moles in their yards on the hunch that trapping moles farther "upstream" might enable us to get a year or two ahead of the curve, in terms of the moles' gradual range expansion into newly vacated territory. Moles aren't at all sociable and maintain separate territories, and since we're bounded on two sides by water a bit of upstream trapping might in theory keep us virtually mole-free.
Yes, this is romyb.com: home of exciting flute information and mole-trapping updates! So, what else was I going to write about tonight--? Oh, something about listening to jazz radio and noticing a big increase over the past few years in the number of tunes featuring clarinet. Clarinets largely fell out of fashion in jazz and popular music after their '40s swing-era heyday but seem to be making a comeback, and as one who has often lamented the atrocious latter-day oversaturation of saxophones in those genres I welcome this development.
So here's a shout-out to our clarinet-playing brethren: forge ahead, and ignore those nerdy-geek stereotypes! We flutists have our own problems overcoming the wimpish, effete preconceptions associated with our chosen instrument, but that hasn't always been the case-- I blame the electric guitar, mostly.
So, for any saxophone or electric guitar players out there: I hereby challenge you to a mole trap-off. Good luck, suckas... you'll need it. --r.
Posted by Romy
01:25 AM PST
June 18, 2007
Swamp Shack Solstice Social
We originally intended to host the Social on June 23rd but the weather forecast looks dicey, so for now it's been bumped up a week to the 30th. However, even that date is subject to change; we're determined to hold the bash on a warm dry weekend so that the spongebums who show up can sleep overnight in the yard without getting soaked. One large tent will be provided which holds five or six, but beyond that you're on your own. More info soon!
Posted by Romy
10:09 PM PST
June 15, 2007
Presidential Endorsement
Since we've taken the gloves off and are now free to comment intemperately on politics, it seems appropriate to alert y'all to an unbelievably edgy and bizarre ad put out by Mike Gravel.
Gravel may be generally regarded as a beyond-long-shot candidate for '08, but I actually remember the days when he was our senator from Alaska. He was much, much different from the typical troglodytes that Alaska inflicts on Congress nowadays, such as Ted Stevens and Don Young-- eccchhh.
I haven't laughed so hard at a video in a long time, even the self-consciously "funny" ones. Here's a politician who actually knows how to keep his mouth shut-- for an excruciatingly long time in this video; check it out! Our far-sighted political acumen compels this blog to throw its full and massively influential weight behind Mike Gravel for President in 2008! Gravel is Swell, and he's our man! --r.
Posted by Romy
08:07 PM PST
June 14, 2007
Insidious Earworms
An earworm is any infectious tune that infiltrates your mind and runs repeatedly through the aural imagination whether you "like" it or not. Over the last few days a certain 90's pop song has been cycling through my brain to an almost unprecedented degree: its title is "Sunny Came Home."
Back in '97 or thereabouts I'd often wander into cafes and other public spaces and hear this song, and it grabbed my attention immediately: what was this tune, and who was the performer? It seemed so catchy, and I haphazardly asked a few people if they knew who the artist was, but never got a definitive answer. Eventually, it fell off the heavy pop rotation and was forgotten... fast forward ten years.
While listening to Internet radio recently this song popped up: it's Shawn Colvin. Turns out that this recording won Grammys in 1998 as "Record of the Year" and "Song of the Year." Who knew?
Nobody can tell me that this isn't superbly crafted pop music. I've always been a sucker for melody, and the refrain of this song has run amok in my imagination for several days straight. Sheesh, my first conscious awareness upon awakening this morning was of this melody, and it hasn't let up yet!
Characteristically, when hearing this back in the '90s I paid almost no attention to the actual lyrics, since melody always comes first. Now that I'm clued in, I like the song even more after discovering that its dark and disturbing lyrical content contrasts sharply with the breezy, infectious tunefulness. Dang-- I wish I'd written that (warning: direct audio/video link)song! Might even have to try my hand at writing one someday... --r.
Posted by Romy
07:37 PM PST
June 11, 2007
Busking
Some weeks ago an article appeared in the Washington Post magazine, describing an interesting experiment with busking. (We won't link to the actual article, but it's easy enough to find, and a simple Yahoo search will reveal much commentary on the incident. Boycott the evil Google!)
In the described experiment the hotshot, mega-ticket-selling classical violinist Joshua Bell plopped the case of his multi-million dollar Stradivarius onto the floor of a Washington, DC subway station and played for the better part of an hour. Over that period, almost 1,100 people passed directly by Bell's position, and only a few paused for even a short listen. Of those few who lingered momentarily, just one actually recognized this world-renowned musician, and the total take for his 45-minute performance was just over thirty bucks.
Unfortunately, the overall tone of the article was rather condescending; it implicitly branded those who streamed past Bell's performance as typically pig-ignorant, uncomprehending American philistines. However, there were several glaring problems with the setting and timing of this stunt, so that interpretation was a stretch. Just for starters, it happened at the peak of the morning rush hour-- and at a spot where most passers-by would be hurrying between one point and another at that time. As any halfway competent busker would know, that was hardly a recipe for success.
Not that I'd know much about busking, never having tried it myself; haven't had the nerve. Many years ago, I was hired by a street fair for a holiday event with a Dickensian theme: dressed in a ragged chimney-sweep costume, I was assigned to roam the festival tootling Christmas carols on a flute. My, what a humbling experience! Most attendees were apparently unaware that this get-up and shtick were part of a prearranged, paid act, and seemed to assume that I actually was the very character I depicted: a shabby, down-and-out mendicant flutist grubbing desperately for spare change.
Actually, that's not too far from the truth! Well, far enough... barely. At one point two young sisters of about ten and twelve watched me in fascination for a few minutes; presently they engaged in a whispered consultation, pooled their resources, and the older one approached with outstretched palm, proffering perhaps thirty-five cents in tribute. How sweet! I stopped and thanked them profusely, explaining that I'd been paid to be there and didn't need to take their money.
And that's about as close as I've come to busking. *shudder* Not that there's anything wrong with the long and honorable tradition of busking, which dates back to the troubadours and far beyond; indeed, many now-famous performers began their careers that way, and many others continue to do quite well on a more modest scale. I should probably try it for real at some point, but overall the extroverted teflon mindset required to busk effectively is alien to my reclusive and retiring nature. More on this theme in a bit... --rb
Posted by Romy
04:46 PM PST
June 8, 2007
Poetry Notion
Yo! The liberation of this blog continues, and since I now feel empowered to include political rants we might as well throw poetry into the mix. Yep, expect limericks, sonnets, free verse, raps, and much more to appear in this space soon. While we're on the subject, it's rather odd that I've never really experimented with song lyrics. The line between lyrics and poetry can be blurry, since poems can be set to music, music can inspire poetry, and good song lyrics are often intrinsically poetic.
Is that the first time the word intrinsic has been used on this site? If so, it's long overdue... say, could we work "intrinsic" into a poem? Oh, nevermind: I'm easily amused; all apologies. Anyway, let's start with a rap.
The setup: a certain anonymous swamp-dwelling chick with whom I've bonded fondly over the last few years has a skeptical and protective father-- let's call him "Burton." When Burton first heard that his daughta was seein' a musical dude, his first response was -- get this:
"He's not a rapper, is he?"
HA HA HA and LOL! Naturally, my immediate response was to compose a rap. But first, we need to backtrack a few years and introduce y'all to my hiphop alter ego: Puff Pasty. There are a few photos buried somewhere of y'all's truly dressed in character as Puff P., so we'll try to dig those up and throw 'em down for y'all soon. Meanwhile, here's that first rap best as I can remember it:
Yo, Burton-- I been consortin' with yo' daughta, (beat, beat)
An' I'm thinkin' that you oughta... (beat, beat)
Understand the situation, (beat, beat)
'Cuz Puff just pulled into the station! (beat, beat, beat, beat)
[chorus]
Get used to it, if the shoe don't fit--
Get used to it-- Only hurts a little bit!
Get used to it, 'cuz brotha Puff can bring da sh*t,
An' he's gonna rock yo' baby anyway!
Like a bee to da honey, (beat, beat)
That cat, he really on the money... (beat, beat)
Puts his moves on da ladies, (thump, thump)
(He just a little bitty shady.) (thump, thump)
They eats it up like da candy, (boom, boom)
He gettin' mighty mighty randy! (whack, whack)
They never able to resist him: (throb, throb)
Yo' daughta very very kissed him! (beat, beat, whack, boom)
So get used to it, if the shoe don't fit--
Get used to it-- Only hurts a little bit!
Get used to it, 'cuz brotha Puff can bring da sh*t,
Suck it up, 'cuz brotha Puff is here to stay!
[To bridge; different beat]
Yo, Burt-- it might hurt if you wear a hair shirt,
An' you whip yo'self severely with a cane.
Every monk has got his mantra-- if you start to thinkin' contra,
Puff will plant a little crazy in yo' brain!
Bro, it's all in the thinkin'-- if it drives you to drinkin',
It's just because yo' attitude is vain!
So adjust yo' attitude, an' just dig that crazy dude!
He sho' won't cause yo' daughta any pain!
Get used to it, if the shoe don't fit--
Get used to it-- Only hurts a little bit!
Get used to it, 'cuz brotha Puff can bring da sh*t,
An' he's gonna rock yo' baby anyway!
(Repeat chorus and fade)
So there you have it. Much more to come soon. --r.
Posted by Romy
04:25 PM PST
June 7, 2007
The Upcoming Surge
It's been strange to feel an complete lack of blogworthy inspiration over the last month or so. Normally there's no shortage of utterly trivial subjects on which to lavish a few thousand silly words, but lately a vast emptiness has reigned. Were I an actual writer, this recent void might be attributed to Writer's Block, but the mantle of "writer" is much too august for a frivolous, bamboo-flutemaking nincompoop such as yours truly.
However, I sense a Surge coming on-- the pendulum may swing slowly but swing it does, and the inevitable upswing is nigh! This blog hereby resolves to be much more combative and polemical in its non-flute-related ramblings; much of the recent paralysis probably relates to the fact that my daily readings -- and several hours each day are spent simply reading, reading, reading -- are heavily weighted towards politically oriented material.
The surpassing weirdness and insanity of the American sociopolitical scene takes a heavy toll, and the fact that such subjects have heretofore been largely banished from this blog creates a certain cognitive dissonance; it's hardly surprising that paralysis might set in given this disconnect between incoming and outgoing data, if you will. Therefore, we're going to largely discard the pretense of bland neutrality in that vein, and if the result is a steep dropoff in Republican flute clients, so be it! Republicans are probably more likely to play harpsichords or trumpets anyway.
Back to the silly stuff: I've always wanted to make a Skin Flute. Here's the plan: obtain a sheet of rawhide, soak it, then wrap it around a cylindrical mandrel such as a section of PVC pipe. Once it's dried and hardened, remove the plastic form and coat inside and outside with epoxy resin... drill holes, and bingo: an authentic Skin Flute! Hey, come to think of it, we promised awhile back to fashion a zucchini flute, too!
Now, those are truly absurd and non-political projects that could lead to a renaissance of bloggery, as well as some interesting YouTube videos... yes, Internet video is a great untapped resource that I've resolved to explore very very soon. Yay!
Also, Bush sucks has been somewhat of a disappointment.
Surgingly yours,
rb
Posted by Romy
11:30 PM PST
June 6, 2007
Ahhhhh... relief.
Rainy and cool weather has returned to the Pacific Northwest for the next week or so, according to the weatherdudes. If that prediction holds, perhaps I'll regain some blogariffic momentum and get back to a 5,000 wpm (words per month) pace soon. We'll see...
--rb, the Alaskan refugee
Posted by Romy
12:55 AM PST
June 1, 2007
Ultraviolet Culpability
Sorry that the blog's been short on words over the last few weeks. What with our recent trip to the arid Desert Southwest and the current seasonally abnormal sunniness here in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, a hefty dose of UV radiation has wreaked havoc on my productivity. I'm convinced that there really is a connection: too much sun = indolence, apathy and sloth.
From now on I'll be slathering on the sunscreen and sticking to the shade as much as possible... but at this rate, real site productivity may have to wait until September or October.
--Hey, come to think of it: only three months to go until September, my favorite of the lot!
--r.
Posted by Romy
12:10 AM PST
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