i spent today strolling backwards on lush properties in the Southlands area of Vancouver. Backpack blower strapped upon my back—making piles of leaves to be raked, thrown on a tarp and carted back to the truck.
red, rust, coral, yellow birch, the ones from the tree that smells like brown sugar—so many colours—so many new tree names to learn.
a couple of months ago Gretchen Snakes performed the song sour cream at the lido in Vancouver—an 8 hour epic. My friend Alexi visited me soon after when I was sitting at the gallery one sunny Saturday afternoon. He had just received a copy of the recording and we sat and listened to it between cups of tea and conversation.
5pm came around quickly
only a few hours in—sun streaming through the windows—bicycles and an outside adventure called—it was a wonderful afternoon.
Lucky for me Lex sent me the song and today—last day gardening for the season/first day with music on the job—sour cream was the soundtrack to the leaves dancing in the wind before me.
For 8 hours a whole body in time—the leaves ahead—sound in ears—4 bodies recorded in time—ahead of time—leafy lines meet distortion time.
A solo—in mono//two time//two too time///a solo in two time—one body two times—two bodies one time—two bodies—stereo time.
The studio one time—converging many times—two time—three time—four time—many time—many times in time—off beat—out of time—exit studio gather more time—weaving line—day time, night time, beach time, preach time, think time, drink time, listen time, look time, smell time, book time, in time, out time, tuning time, loosing time—sun meets horizon line.