I stayed late recording every night then I drove back to my parentsвЂ™ house. I loved recording and the equipment seemed to be living and it sang to me like static interference from the small AM radio station down the street, night in Anacortes in the mid 90вЂ™s, oil tankers rumbling. I called it вЂњthe MicrophonesвЂќ on the 3rd cassette I made. I was already by then a couple years deep into this weird pursuit playing drums, copying lyrics out to hang them in my room until I started making my own embarrassing early tries at this thing that sings at night above the house,ДЄt first I called my recordings a different name. I put the name вЂњMicrophonesвЂќ on the tapes I would make late at night after work at the record store.

Now I circle back to look into the spring. This spooling out repetitive decades-long song string, I drove back to Olympia clear headed temporarily and went back into the studio to resume whatever this thing is: I returned to my station wagon with a wet face. Slowly the sound of roaring waves returned. It was raining so hard, I was wet wool caked with sand.

I decided I would try to make music that contained this deeper peaceД«uried underneath distorted bass, fog imbued with light and emptiness, With a purity of heart that transcends gravity The sound of empty wind when they sword-fought weightless in the bamboo Walking slowly, making eye contact, gliding, Un-tip-over-able like the bambooвЂ™d undulating hills, The way they held themselves upright with tea in the opening scenes,ДЄ warm formality, spines straight and feet planted wide, It looks ridiculous now but the truth is: At that moment my mind flashing like a blade.ДЄ 22-year-old in flip flops running around in an empty mall parking lot lost in a martial arts fantasy, I stood glowing with ideas of what I might try to convey It was a rainy matinee 2001, Sunday, March 18th, I watched Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon in a dollar theater in Aberdeen. I would drive out to the ocean and not tell anybody. Spending hours each morning reading poems and staring offДЄnd then snapping back to urgency, I did my dishesДistorted bass, spliced tape, singing lines likeДЄnd вЂњI wonвЂ™t look for you in my roomвЂќ about my friends. I took my breakfast to the couch on the porch of the punk house.Д¬offee and low tide smell and my life stretching out. The disinterested sun would still rise every morning Looking back to see if I could draw a map Shaking out the dust to bring some empty space back,ДЇilling a long merch table with artifacts, Going through the contents of my backpack, The true state of all things is a waterfall Countless sunrisesД«urying the things IвЂ™d figured out the day before. I keep on not dying, the sun keeps on rising.Дreams that I donвЂ™t trust, burning off, layered thick,ДЄ cargo that I haul, wounds and loves unresolved.Д«ut now IвЂ™m back where I was when I was 20,Д¬rashing through salal alone and mumbling,

Laughing in the wind 2001 free download