In the middle of this afternoon, I decided all of what I'm bringing with me to Nevada in my canvas bag. Here's what'll be in it:
- Two blank composition books (I bought these a long time ago, but never used them, and now's the time to do so, not only to keep tabs on where we went and what we did, but also to look at the businesses all around and attempt to write copy for them in order to create a copywriting portfolio for myself, should I decide to pursue a career in that. I'm also going to write about what's all around me and how I feel while I'm there, because I'd like to expand my desert music soundtrack. I've done well enough so far with "Amazonia" by Paul Lawler and Paul Speer, and two tracks by Jeff Oster ("Serengeti" and "This Place"), among others, but I've done it at a distance from Las Vegas and Henderson. I want to take what I feel about each area after I come back to Santa Clarita and put it into choosing new music to be part of this soundtrack. No goal. Just a continuing hobby to have music express my feelings about my new home and that vast, inspiring desert atmosphere.)
- 28 Barbary Lane by Armistead Maupin (The first Tales of the City omnibus, and a perfect time with a little over four hour drive to Las Vegas to begin rereading the series by reading light, since most of this drive will surely be while it's dark outside. I learned earlier though that we have no more AAA batteries, and if my reading light cuts out, I'll have to replace the batteries with what I have in my fabric mp3 case. We'll probably get more in Las Vegas or Henderson, since prices are more reasonable there.)
- Everywhere That Mary Went by Lisa Scottoline (After reading Best Friends, Occasional Enemies: The Lighter Side of Life as a Mother and Daughter by Scottoline and her daughter, Francesca Serritella, I was curious about everything else Scottoline had written, knowing that the same lighthearted style would probably not be prevalent in those books, but after learning that Scottoline's main series is legal thrillers, I immediately ordered the first of them. I may not even read it because of all there will be to do in two days, but it's what I do, and my canvas bag won't be as heavy as it was on previous trips.)
- Dog On It by Spencer Quinn (I tried reading this novel about a dog named Chet and his private detective owner Bernie in May 2009, but it didn't take. Yet, the concept still interests me, that of the dog narrating the story, and participating in solving the mystery. I ordered it last year (I borrowed it from the Valencia library the first time), but hadn't even looked at it until now, when I was deciding what to bring with me. It's another first mystery novel, first in a series, so there's that, but also because it has Chet, it's worth bringing with me, since I'll be missing Tigger and Kitty, our two dogs.)
- Personal Pleasures by Rose Macaulay (I'll be taking deep pleasure in a lot of things in Las Vegas and Henderson, so it's appropriate to have this British satirical novelist's book with me about her own pleasures. It's also just the kind of book I like, reveling in pleasure.)
I'll bring new pens with me from the holder in the kitchen cabinet, cheap and reliable blue click pens from Target. I have two in a holder next to my bed, but those are nearly out of ink. I'll start new, since many of these experiences to come, such as seeing a movie at a theater that's inside a casino, will be new to me.
Dad and Meridith are done at work at 2:15, though Dad has to wait for his substitute to arrive since she has a meeting about a student first (It's another teacher who's agreed to cover for him). Once that's done, they get home, we make sure we have everything we need for this trip, and I presume someone from Enterprise is going to pick us up since we're renting a car for this trip. I don't know yet, but chances are we'll be out on the road toward 5 p.m., onward first to Baker (Our favorite rest stop, and really the only good one that there is on the way), and then to Nevada and our new home area. For the next three days, life is going to be perfect and hopefully it'll be successful enough to lead us to permanent perfection as residents of Henderson. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy everything about it.
Showing posts with label desert music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label desert music. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Tracking the Day's Music with The New Yorker
The October 24th issue of The New Yorker arrived today, always the first thing I look at at the mailbox, before I take anything else out of the cubbyhole and out of the parcel locker. I get news of the contents of the week's magazine in my e-mail, but I skim through it. I always like to see it in print because it's there, immediately accessible. No waiting for anything online.
The most promising issues to me have a review by Nancy Franklin, my favorite TV critic, and a review by Anthony Lane, one of my two favorite film critics (Josh Bell of Las Vegas Weekly is the other). This issue had both. All it needed to make it potentially perfect was a restaurant review by managing editor Amelia Lester, since she's the best at it. No luck. The review, of St. Anselm in Brooklyn, was by Hannah Goldfield, but now I will be looking for her name in these reviews just as much as Lester, because of a very funny three-quarters of a paragraph about the desserts offered at St. Anselm:
"St. Anselm (with whom Carroll's grandfather shared a name) was a Benedictine monk who made the first ontological argument for the existence of God. St. Anselm's dessert menu makes a less than convincing argument for the existence of a pastry chef. There is little appealing about a half-full jar of peanut butter surrounded by chunks of chocolate (unless, of course, you're stoned), and a plate of marshmallows, strawberries, and crumbled graham crackers drizzled in chocolate sauce looks like what happens when a four-year-old is left alone in a pantry."
Also stocked in this issue was an article about premature births and the methods taken to save babies who are prematurely born, a piece by David Sedaris about summers in the '60s spent on swim teams, and a profile of Jill Abramson, a veteran of The New York Times who was named the new executive editor.
This particular issue also served another purpose. Every day during the week, I have a purple index card next to me on the couch, and whenever I hear music I like on the Spa channel on XM Radio, I write it down and look it up either on YouTube or elsewhere to listen to it more closely and decide if it fits the desert soundtrack I'm creating (More details here: http://scrapsofliteracy.blogspot.com/2011/09/desert-soundtrack.html).
The XM Radio in the living room was on when I came out after getting up at 11:20 this morning, and the mail came not long after, so I had this issue in front of me, but no purple index card with me. Two at the computer are still not all filled up, so I could have used those, but I didn't feel like getting them. Mom was on the computer anyway.
I had a pen with me for the purpose of circling those names that interest me in the "Contributors" section on page 2 to look up later (Their books especially), the plays that are listed under "The Theatre" that I want to read, if they're published, and anything else that I want to look up later, including references to some books in the Jill Abramson profile.
And then, while circling names in the "Contributors" section, I heard a flute piece that sounded familiar, that I probably had heard before on the Spa channel. I got up to see what it was, and it was, as listed, "The Dreams of Ch", by Shadowfax. I found out just now that the full title is "The Dreams of Children." It seemed like a bit of the desert to me when I heard it on XM. Listening to it now, it's less so, but it conjures up populated desert streets while driving to Henderson from Las Vegas, not far at all, and farmer's markets I've heard about in the area, that I want to go to.
Later, on page 34, in the middle of the piece about premature births, I heard "Fruits of the La" by Shinji Ishihara, very familiar to me. I hear this one at least twice a week on the Spa Channel. The full title, via YouTube, is "Fruits of the Land," and it feels like it fits the view of that ocean of desert seen from the large rock ledge near the Hacienda Hotel and Casino, the rippling of the heat that made it seem like it was coming closer and then receding, much like the actual ocean. Unfortunately, a search on Amazon and on Google reveals no way to download it. I need this in my desert soundtrack.
And so it went, also through page 44 ("Hakusha-Sonso" by Wall Matthews) and page 55 ("Come My Way" by William Aura). There are weeks when "The New Yorker" totally captivates me, and this came close with that first piece, David Sedaris' appearance, and the Jill Abramson profile. It rests on the steps to that Pantheon of New Yorker Perfection because of being right there when I needed space for music.
The most promising issues to me have a review by Nancy Franklin, my favorite TV critic, and a review by Anthony Lane, one of my two favorite film critics (Josh Bell of Las Vegas Weekly is the other). This issue had both. All it needed to make it potentially perfect was a restaurant review by managing editor Amelia Lester, since she's the best at it. No luck. The review, of St. Anselm in Brooklyn, was by Hannah Goldfield, but now I will be looking for her name in these reviews just as much as Lester, because of a very funny three-quarters of a paragraph about the desserts offered at St. Anselm:
"St. Anselm (with whom Carroll's grandfather shared a name) was a Benedictine monk who made the first ontological argument for the existence of God. St. Anselm's dessert menu makes a less than convincing argument for the existence of a pastry chef. There is little appealing about a half-full jar of peanut butter surrounded by chunks of chocolate (unless, of course, you're stoned), and a plate of marshmallows, strawberries, and crumbled graham crackers drizzled in chocolate sauce looks like what happens when a four-year-old is left alone in a pantry."
Also stocked in this issue was an article about premature births and the methods taken to save babies who are prematurely born, a piece by David Sedaris about summers in the '60s spent on swim teams, and a profile of Jill Abramson, a veteran of The New York Times who was named the new executive editor.
This particular issue also served another purpose. Every day during the week, I have a purple index card next to me on the couch, and whenever I hear music I like on the Spa channel on XM Radio, I write it down and look it up either on YouTube or elsewhere to listen to it more closely and decide if it fits the desert soundtrack I'm creating (More details here: http://scrapsofliteracy.blogspot.com/2011/09/desert-soundtrack.html).
The XM Radio in the living room was on when I came out after getting up at 11:20 this morning, and the mail came not long after, so I had this issue in front of me, but no purple index card with me. Two at the computer are still not all filled up, so I could have used those, but I didn't feel like getting them. Mom was on the computer anyway.
I had a pen with me for the purpose of circling those names that interest me in the "Contributors" section on page 2 to look up later (Their books especially), the plays that are listed under "The Theatre" that I want to read, if they're published, and anything else that I want to look up later, including references to some books in the Jill Abramson profile.
And then, while circling names in the "Contributors" section, I heard a flute piece that sounded familiar, that I probably had heard before on the Spa channel. I got up to see what it was, and it was, as listed, "The Dreams of Ch", by Shadowfax. I found out just now that the full title is "The Dreams of Children." It seemed like a bit of the desert to me when I heard it on XM. Listening to it now, it's less so, but it conjures up populated desert streets while driving to Henderson from Las Vegas, not far at all, and farmer's markets I've heard about in the area, that I want to go to.
Later, on page 34, in the middle of the piece about premature births, I heard "Fruits of the La" by Shinji Ishihara, very familiar to me. I hear this one at least twice a week on the Spa Channel. The full title, via YouTube, is "Fruits of the Land," and it feels like it fits the view of that ocean of desert seen from the large rock ledge near the Hacienda Hotel and Casino, the rippling of the heat that made it seem like it was coming closer and then receding, much like the actual ocean. Unfortunately, a search on Amazon and on Google reveals no way to download it. I need this in my desert soundtrack.
And so it went, also through page 44 ("Hakusha-Sonso" by Wall Matthews) and page 55 ("Come My Way" by William Aura). There are weeks when "The New Yorker" totally captivates me, and this came close with that first piece, David Sedaris' appearance, and the Jill Abramson profile. It rests on the steps to that Pantheon of New Yorker Perfection because of being right there when I needed space for music.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Desert Soundtrack
My latest project, among the many others already stacked up, is to create a personal soundtrack representative of the desert that I know in and near Las Vegas, the view of that ocean of desert from that mountain ledge next to Hacienda Hotel and Casino near Boulder City, the Mojave Desert from Baker, California on, and in Victorville.
So far, in a Windows Media playlist, I have placed Amazonia by Paul Lawler and Paul Speer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LHdqmU5lXSs), which has a vast desert feeling; Viva Las Vegas as sung by Shawn Colvin (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g87Mu9SNqwk. It has a slower tempo, more grounded, and is the Las Vegas I know and love); Cherry-Coloured Funk by Cocteau Twins (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WybSSagVvoU. For me, it embodies nighttime in Las Vegas); Heaven or Las Vegas by Cocteau Twins (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtBr5JKSuks. It's like an introduction to Las Vegas); Serengeti by Jeff Oster (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sd6TvuJMEhIand. It reminds me of crossing the California state line into Nevada and approaching Primm with the outlet mall, the three casinos, and the Desperado rollercoaster); and Cluster One by Pink Floyd (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRqrpfzpTaA. It has the feeling of parking your car somewhere in the desert at night, lying on the hood, looking up at all those stars).
Since the Spa channel is on our XM Radio in the living room every day, full of the ambient music I love, I listen to it to see if any songs feel like the desert, and write down the titles and artists and listen to them more closely online if they're available either on YouTube or through another source. My goal here is to create a soundtrack that's just as much home to me as Henderson will be, that makes me feel even more like I truly belong in this vast wonder of desert living. Does anyone have any suggestions that could make for an effective soundtrack?
So far, in a Windows Media playlist, I have placed Amazonia by Paul Lawler and Paul Speer (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LHdqmU5lXSs), which has a vast desert feeling; Viva Las Vegas as sung by Shawn Colvin (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g87Mu9SNqwk. It has a slower tempo, more grounded, and is the Las Vegas I know and love); Cherry-Coloured Funk by Cocteau Twins (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WybSSagVvoU. For me, it embodies nighttime in Las Vegas); Heaven or Las Vegas by Cocteau Twins (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dtBr5JKSuks. It's like an introduction to Las Vegas); Serengeti by Jeff Oster (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sd6TvuJMEhIand. It reminds me of crossing the California state line into Nevada and approaching Primm with the outlet mall, the three casinos, and the Desperado rollercoaster); and Cluster One by Pink Floyd (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRqrpfzpTaA. It has the feeling of parking your car somewhere in the desert at night, lying on the hood, looking up at all those stars).
Since the Spa channel is on our XM Radio in the living room every day, full of the ambient music I love, I listen to it to see if any songs feel like the desert, and write down the titles and artists and listen to them more closely online if they're available either on YouTube or through another source. My goal here is to create a soundtrack that's just as much home to me as Henderson will be, that makes me feel even more like I truly belong in this vast wonder of desert living. Does anyone have any suggestions that could make for an effective soundtrack?
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