( part 1 - 8 )

The following is a body of work created between August 2001 through late May of 2003. All of the music used as background is either my own, or a collaborative effort between myself, Patrick Hazen (of Dental Circus), and Ennio Torressan (of Headless Man). Vocal work is performed, in character, by my friends and family members.

Inspired by the work of Joe Frank whose late night audio on KCRW broke all levels of norms and tradition, at some point I came to believe that audio diaries themselves might have long term historical importance for future societies. That, on their own, they capture just as accurately a feeling and understanding of the times we live in as any music CD or interview. And since there are many recording artists, why not have many audio journalists? And though I love Joe Frank's work much more then my own, it had seemed at the time that the flow of new material stopped coming from him, and that perhaps there was room in the field for amateurs like myself to push the category forward.

Of course these were only the stupid, the tired and the vain reasons for such an experiment, not touching the true core. I wanted to go in, to capture a time, to use tools that I had all around me freely available which at no other time in history had been so accessible. I wanted to touch down upon the moon, to go beyond.

Something that has no words, no boxes, no frames. Concurrently, I wanted this piece of work to be 'readable', and, at the very least, somehow sustaining.

Well, I find it almost impossible to continue. It is now almost two years since I started to formulate these recordings into some form of package. Currently, I am offering them, as is, to the other would be creators out there.

Due to the nature of recording yourself and everyone you deal with constantly, almost without thought, and then listening to it, night after night, alone in the dark, my mind began to drift into a realm of pure abandon. My inspiration, Joe Frank himself probably knows this place well. In fact, I am beginning to believe that Joe went so far into this place, that, well, he had to stop before it consumed his whole life. I think there is only one way to really understand this, and that is to do. But the act of doing warps your perception, you no longer remember what it was you sought in the dark, headphones on, with no love. You begin to drift off into the sound of speech, into the mood of tone.

In the end my own search became one for truth, something to believe in, anything, nothing, something? Empty nights, just a recorder of the day and not a participant, it leaves you feeling non meaning, non life, a void.

But the work itself propelled me further to at least finish something. And this, ultimately unraveled the whole experience.

Having lost a regular job, I was living mostly off of a unemployment checks, and the occasional web work for various clients inside the LA region. I found this work largely meaningless and consuming compared to the awe inspiring trips down conversations or news reports just released.

The world was at war, and they would probably call me insane. And yet, they were the ones who were at war, not me, so, who is really insane. What is the nature of war or want, of ego, and ultimately of vanity?


(photo taken aboard a boat circa July, Austria 2003)