Five things about work make a post about work.
1) So for six months I've been sitting on a really great set of live, off-the-floor recordings of me and Ivan E. Coyote at Empty Sea Studios in Seattle, and we're going to make a live CD out of them. I am reluctant to Kickstarter it because I don't really needs "kickstarting", per se, I mostly just want to take pre-orders in some relatively tidy internationally enabled way.
1a) It'll be a downloadable album. Though I suppose with the kickstarter model people could kick in extra for video clips or, uh, other things. I dunno, what would your dream backer reward under $25 be? Under $50?
1b) Pre-orders of the album will be $8, I think? $10 at shows.
2) I'm actually writing this sitting outside with my coffee. It's just barely warm enough for me to the comfortably, but I am seizing the opportunity on account of who knows when I'll get to do it again? Also, I feel slightly rugged and terribly Canadian, out on the patio on 4 December. Check me out.
3) Last week I had fan mail from three different high school students, each of them totally authentic and a little heartbreaking and full of questions that boiled down to "how can I manifest myself in the real world the way I am in my head?"
3a) I cannot help but think about what a good question this is. How, indeed? And perhaps more importantly to me this morning, why does our willingness to ask this question start to dwindle so substantially as we get a little more tumbled by life?
3b) Okay, I actually know the answer to that question. Perhaps a better question would be: how do we /stop/ that happening?
4) I have a beloved friend, a beautiful writer, who has more or less checked himself in at the monastery (or perhaps a shack at the foot of the hill upon which the monastery is built) and is "awaiting further instruction." Another thing I am thinking about the morning: it seems like it would be wonderful to have the freedom to wander everywhere and anywhere and so on, in the subtropics, warm sun and fresh fruit and monkeys and muses around every gorgeously unfamiliar corner. But I honestly don't know if I would like it. Maybe for a week or two, but not for longer I don't think. I do better in the mix. Or at least, I suspect so - this may be one of those things I don't need to try in order to decline.
5) People keep looking at me out here, tapping away, and smiling. Like "Oh good, there's still someone outside."
5a) But also, brrr.
This entry was originally posted at http://sbearbergman.dreamwidth.org/24261.html.
1a) It'll be a downloadable album. Though I suppose with the kickstarter model people could kick in extra for video clips or, uh, other things. I dunno, what would your dream backer reward under $25 be? Under $50?
1b) Pre-orders of the album will be $8, I think? $10 at shows.
2) I'm actually writing this sitting outside with my coffee. It's just barely warm enough for me to the comfortably, but I am seizing the opportunity on account of who knows when I'll get to do it again? Also, I feel slightly rugged and terribly Canadian, out on the patio on 4 December. Check me out.
3) Last week I had fan mail from three different high school students, each of them totally authentic and a little heartbreaking and full of questions that boiled down to "how can I manifest myself in the real world the way I am in my head?"
3a) I cannot help but think about what a good question this is. How, indeed? And perhaps more importantly to me this morning, why does our willingness to ask this question start to dwindle so substantially as we get a little more tumbled by life?
3b) Okay, I actually know the answer to that question. Perhaps a better question would be: how do we /stop/ that happening?
4) I have a beloved friend, a beautiful writer, who has more or less checked himself in at the monastery (or perhaps a shack at the foot of the hill upon which the monastery is built) and is "awaiting further instruction." Another thing I am thinking about the morning: it seems like it would be wonderful to have the freedom to wander everywhere and anywhere and so on, in the subtropics, warm sun and fresh fruit and monkeys and muses around every gorgeously unfamiliar corner. But I honestly don't know if I would like it. Maybe for a week or two, but not for longer I don't think. I do better in the mix. Or at least, I suspect so - this may be one of those things I don't need to try in order to decline.
5) People keep looking at me out here, tapping away, and smiling. Like "Oh good, there's still someone outside."
5a) But also, brrr.
This entry was originally posted at http://sbearbergman.dreamwidth.org/24261.html.