Photo Journal of our Travels

  • Streets of Seattle on a sunny November day.
I waited at a bus stop, watching the electric trolleys pivot on their lines as they turned the corner. An eclectic sidewalk crowd listed by, and cars rushed through the intersection.
For a moment i imagined the urban buzz was a huge human hive, and the liquid golden sun on the streets was honey, oozing lightly down the channels of the honeycomb.

#seattle #travel #imagination #tour #feelthedrone #cities #autumn #explore #adventure #beautifulworld #heartstrings #stillkickin #RosalindParducci
    Streets of Seattle on a sunny November day. I waited at a bus stop, watching the electric trolleys pivot on their lines as they turned the corner. An eclectic sidewalk crowd listed by, and cars rushed through the intersection. For a moment i imagined the urban buzz was a huge human hive, and the liquid golden sun on the streets was honey, oozing lightly down the channels of the honeycomb. #seattle #travel #imagination #tour #feelthedrone #cities #autumn #explore #adventure #beautifulworld #heartstrings #stillkickin #RosalindParducci
  • There be dragons.

#seattle #chinatown #travel #travelphotography #stringtownambassadors #tour #dragon #magic #surreality #photography #youneverknow #adventure #city #beyondreason
    There be dragons. #seattle #chinatown #travel #travelphotography #stringtownambassadors #tour #dragon #magic #surreality #photography #youneverknow #adventure #city #beyondreason
  • The B-1 Lancer. 
#military #america #ourdirtyhistory #fighterjet #paradoxlife #skyporn #travel #airforce #tour #sexyplanes #museum #slc #travelingmusicians
    The B-1 Lancer. #military #america #ourdirtyhistory #fighterjet #paradoxlife #skyporn #travel #airforce #tour #sexyplanes #museum #slc #travelingmusicians
  • Sunset 
#travel #tour #livemusic #RosalindParducci #rockinthegoodlife #FromTheRoad #muse #thestateroom #slc #sun #beauty #love #whywearehere #photography #saturatethat #boundless #travelphotography #stringtownambassadors
    Sunset #travel #tour #livemusic #RosalindParducci #rockinthegoodlife #FromTheRoad #muse #thestateroom #slc #sun #beauty #love #whywearehere #photography #saturatethat #boundless #travelphotography #stringtownambassadors
  • Magic Moose mural in Salt Lake City.

#moose #travel #slc #downtown #tour #stringtownambassadors #RosalindParducci #muse #beautyeverywhere #art #graffiti #badass #FromTheRoad
    Magic Moose mural in Salt Lake City. #moose #travel #slc #downtown #tour #stringtownambassadors #RosalindParducci #muse #beautyeverywhere #art #graffiti #badass #FromTheRoad
http://instagram.com/fidd13r

From Moscow Idaho 

Two days till Thanksgiving, and this entourage of minstrels awaits in Moscow ID for the revival of our RV's braking system.

We played a show last night at a sweet little venue called The Attic, hosted by the Palouse Folklore Society. Aptly named, the venue is located in the attic of an old house on 2nd street, walking distance from the quaint, vibrant little downtown.

When I first came up the stairs, I noticed a metal object perched at the edge of the back deck, and asked David, our host, whether it was what it looked like- a gallows. He chuckled, and said, "it could be," and went on to explain that it had been used back in the day to pull the roof beams into place. Inside, there was more space than I'd anticipated: the ceiling was tall enough for Ry, our sound-man extraordinaire, to stand unencumbered at 6 feet tall with room to spare. Hot water and a giant box of tea sat at the back hall, and a rather optimistic several rows of chairs were placed facing the improvised stage. Optimistic, because it was a Monday night on the week of Thanksgiving. David had managed to drum up a sweet crowd however, and over the course of the night, 10-15 people showed up to make it an intimate and cozy show. At the intermission, one elderly lady with short white hair and a mischievous glimmer in her eyes approached Erin to examine her tattoos, touching Erin's arm with her index finger and asking her to explain them, and once Erin had explained, the little lady reached out for Erin's shirt asking if there were more. We were cracking up, and Erin hastily said, "Nope! That's it!"

"Do you have any tattoos?" I asked her.

"I don't know," she replied, then called out to her husband, "do I have any tattoos?"

"I haven't found 'em!" He called back.

The elderly mischief maker met my eye with an innocent grin, said, "then I guess not," and made her way back to her seat beside her husband.

Like many house concerts, we had only set up vocal mics, and a mic for Kenneth's tabla drums.

All over the walls, posters from previous shows were thumb-tacked to the walls, mostly 8.5x11 printed by the Palouse Folklore Society in black and white.

 

Prior to the show, we walked down to the Moscow Food Coop, which served up a delectable hot foods bar at dependably high prices. I was so excited to be in a coop for the first time since the start of tour- I promptly spent nearly a third of my weekly stipend on toiletries, food, and a $6 glass jar of local, raw milk yogurt.

The RV has been having brake problems basically since Erin and Ry first purchased it, and this tour they've already had to deal with it twice before today. So we're in Moscow, hanging out the the public library and taking a much-needed day off to be in one location, and I'm finally catching up with some items of business that I have needed to take care of. Tomorrow, we'll be in Seattle, and we'll spend Thanksgiving there, staying with our friends and family members. I unfortunately lost my passport a while back, and tomorrow I will pick up a new one prior to crossing into Canada on Saturday. We are playing shows north of Vancouver and in Victoria Sunday and Monday. Erin and Ry are really excited about the proposition of golden eagles, and the botanical gardens on Vancouver Island. I'm looking forward to riding a ferry again. The last major ferry ride I took was when I was 18, from Ireland to Wales. We will have our RV with us, called the BORF (short for Born Free), on the ferry.

 

Wishing you all a very happy day of Thanks, a tryptophan-induced coma along with your potatoes, and live music all around.

 

Rosalind

 

 

 

Bernie Sanders is Throwing Down 

Well, folks, it's been a while since this I last wrote you. How are y'all doing? Have you gone swimming in a pile of crunchy, autumn leaves?
For my part, I've been staying in Santa Margarita, playing music with my brilliant friend, Erin Inglish and preparing for our fall tour, scheduled to start October 24. We've been getting riled up about a certain Democratic presidential contender by the name of Bernie Sanders, who's taken to the national stage after serving in Vermont first as mayor of Burlington in the 1980s, and then in the US House of Representatives from the 90s - 2000s.
On Tuesday there was a local Democratic gathering in Santa Margarita California, where the debates were streamed on a projector in the local community center, with some fifty to sixty people in attendance. I arrived with Erin, and it was clear from the get go that the sound system was insufficient for the room. We left to bring a sound system from her place, and came back to listen to the candidates beating around the bush on how they would like to deal with issues of immigration, foreign relations, etc etc.
When Bernie Sanders was asked questions that were framed to alienate/distance his contenders, he easily avoided backhanded comments towards other candidates and kept things to the points he wanted to make. He spoke about his goals for the country in terms of relieving students from college loan debt, particularly holding Wall Street High Finance organizations accountable for that debt, legalizing marijuana, pushing for a socialized health care system that covers everybody... the list goes on and on. What appealed to my sensibilities, both as a student who graduated college with a loan debt and as a liberal idealist who dreams of a society that gives a s**t about the underdog, was the WAY in which Bernie spoke and carried himself. He was not pretentious, and advocated his views unapologetically and with the tone of someone who has put a lot of thought into their stance, and holds his views genuinely and personally (as opposed to Hillary, whose interests are bought by a wealth that is deeply interspersed within the Wall Street Engine).
I am struck by Bernie's track record for consistently voting for the things that he continues to hold to now: He has been anti-Patriot Act since it was first introduced (and broadly against infringement of privacy rights by government and corporations), and was ardently against the Iraq war. He supported US intervention in Kosovo to put a stop to the horrific genocide. He has been paying attention for a long time, with an agenda that is reformist and revolutionary, and interested in highlighting the voices of the people. Perhaps what speaks to me the most is the fact that his campaign is run entirely off of localized, small-scale contributions from individuals, and that he has advocated a shut-down of the corporate SuperPAC methods for campaign finance. Six hours ago on Twitter, Bernie stated, "I want young people to be able to run for office and not have to beg for money from rich people and corporations."
This week, Erin and I made a campaign song and recorded it to get the word out on behalf of Bernie Sanders, who represents so much of what we want to see speaking for our people.
I'm posting our Bernie Sanders Campaign Video below, I'd like to encourage you to share with your friends! In case you couldn't tell, we had a grand time putting this together. :)

Catch and release 

I am dedicating this post to my friends who are struggling with finding balance in a challenging period of life.
This is a meditation of catch and release.

I play catch and release with my music. The muse strings me along with foreplay that isn't always ergonomically sound... but that's not her fault. Learning to let go of tension and to support my own spine is no one's job but my own. I collect memories like flowers on the edge of the road, and like flowers, the petals fall by the wayside, to be recalled as an aroma or sensation more than anything specific (I tried drying flowers in books, but the hard edges lost their appeal and I could never relate to their substance once the moisture was gone).
I play catch and release with my intent. I've found that if I hold too hard to the specifics of an expectation, potential joy is rarely realized. My intent starts like this: I imagine the smell of a rose, or the touch of my mother's hands on my face, or the spunky, green of new spring growth, or the feeling of sunshine spattering the morning and my face with freckles. Then I breathe that feeling in, let it encompass my mind and body. As I breathe out, I release that feeling into the space around me.
I'm en route to the Windy City as I write this, and I am thinking about the strong and delicate building blocks that allow us to flourish in this journey. I'm thinking about my friends, and about my family.
The support that I feel from you is what allows me to journey around this earth with levity and an open heart. I wish for you a sense of levity and an open heart in return.

Sincerely,
Rosalind

From the Ozarks 

We have made our way into the Arkansas Ozarks, once more greeted by a soft summer heat and the greenest land you ever did see. We played a show last week in Springfield MO, at Lindberg's, "The Oldest Bar in Town". There we met a fantastic duo called the Ozark Mountain Maybelle's- check them out on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thebluedel
The Maybelle's shared the bill with us, and announced that it was their third show of the day. They presented an impressive, spirited set of songs, despite their having already performed two other gigs. The only days that Arlo and I have played multiple shows in a day have been Paddy's day, and we knew how much it takes as well as how exciting it feels, to get to perform in consecutive sets.
We arrived at the ol' home place up on the mountain last Wednesday morning, after Arlo made the rugged and impassioned all-night drive from Santa Fe. At one point, sometime around seven in the morning, I was desiring sleep and finding the bumpy road slightly less than ideal for this purpose. I asked Arlo if he might consider stopping so that I could rest for a couple hours. He announced that we were an hour away from his house, and that was that. After a year on the road, and a good nine months since he'd been home, it was hard to argue that he should stop an hour out. Blinking and feeling that state wherein life becomes rather dreamlike after very little sleep, I climbed into the cab and noticed in the sunny morning how all around the road, the world was emerald and alive and billowing with leaves. A box turtle was quietly posted between the yellow lines on the road half an hour out of the mountain, and we stopped to move him out of harm's way. Then somehow, the surreal decision occurred to me to bring the box turtle in the van with us as a short term companion to the top of the ridge. He sat in a confused state in my lap for some time, and I help him in front of the sun visor-mirror to observe his reflection. He was fascinated, and I'm not sure what he made of his company.
When we made it to Arlo's house, we parked the van down the road to make a secret approach upon Arlo's unsuspecting, and happily surprised mother, sneaking in through the backyard and knocking on the kitchen door. 
The days since Wednesday have been filled with music, hours computing and emailing, and visiting with Arlo's beautiful family.
More to come soon...

Rosalind

 

One Year on the Road! 

One Year On the Road!
 
Yesterday was June 1st, the one year anniversary of our departure from North Carolina, and our dive head long into the Lucrative Folk Music Industry. This last year has been so amazing. Some of my personal highlights include; spending a week busking in the subways in Montreal, Playing music and drinking whisky all night at the Clifftop music festival in WV, playing amazing house concerts in Arkansas, California, Oregon, and New Mexico, completing the fundraising campaign for my new mandolin (I can still hardly believe how many people came together to support us and make my dream mandolin a reality) Recording our second album From the Road, playing music at so so many amazing breweries (not only are they great gigs, but I have finally developed a taste for beer!), and most of all, meeting an uncountable number of kind, fun, and inspiring people all across the land. Thank you so much to every one who helped to make our first year as professional musicians to be the best year of my life.
 
At this point things are looking up for the Stringtown Ambassadors. We have an ambitious summer tour in the works. We are really excited to be heading back to the east coast, and our old stomping grounds in Asheville, and then in the fall we have several major music festivals in California that we will be performing at, culminating in KVMR Celtic Festival in Grass Valley CA. After that we will take a brief respite, before we head back on the road with our dear friend and amazing banjo picker Erin Inglish. And after that, more music, more adventure, more living of this crazy life to the max. Hears to a great year gone, and a great year to come. Happy Birthday Stringtown Ambassadors.
 
Arlo Blaisus, 6-2-15

To The Front Row Listeners 

Contrast is one theme of this journey. Two nights ago, we slept in Arcata, where the chilly sea air settled on the outside of our van overnight and prompted the return of wool socks and sweaters. Our next show was booked at the Post Office Saloon in Redding, which is becoming a staple venue for us whenever we're driving up I-5. Last time we played at the Post Office, it was a chilly, wintery evening and rain threatened as we lugged our gear into the venue. She seemed like a ghost town, all the streets devoid of people.

Yesterday, the early tendrils of summer heat were settling in, and all the trees had leafed out in majestic canopies overhead. Redding's claim to fame is its remarkable, 23 million dollar monument called the Sundial Bridge, which spans across the Sacramento River. The bridge is reminiscent of a harp, its cables stretched gracefully like strings from an tall, arcing statue at the far side of the bridge. The footpath is paved in glass, and at night the glass is illuminated from underneath. It was there that we stopped first, and we were surprised by the number of people that actually live in Redding. We took off our shoes, and tuned up our instruments. Sitting on a white concrete bench inlaid with colored glass, we played tunes for a constant stream of sun-happy passersby.

Our gig that night went well. We played a stalwart first half, and a stronger second half, which frequently seems to be the way of things in this line of work. The show was peppered with a few enthusiastic listeners, one of whom was a cool local bassist, and several part-time listeners who were also occupied with goings on at the bar. We've been booking a lot of breweries, and each one is different in ambience than the last, but the fluctuation in focused listeners is pretty common in that setting. In Coos Bay OR, we played at the 7 Devils Brewery, which capped their stellar sound system with a generous tab for their delicious food and beer. The crowd there was engaged, and as the evening wore on, a dedicated group of listeners sorted themselves into the seats closest to us. As a performer, one of my dreams is to have the first row filled at every show, because the people sitting in the front are generally the enthused, ardent listeners. Most shows there are a few people who shout questions, asking us where we're from, have we met their cousin in North Carolina, are we married, do we know (fill in the _____ ) song. We occasionally get listeners who fancy themselves to be traditional-music savvy types and they request Danny Boy, or "that song from the Civil War documentary". The time prior to this last show in Redding, we were asked to play the current "Freebird" of the folk world, "Wagon Wheel", and we indulged the audience with a very laid-back rendition sung with a glass of wine in one hand. I know that it wasn't the wine, or Wagon Wheel, that made that show what it was... it was audience rapport, and the people who sat at the tables in front of the stage, who stood up and danced.

 

Rosalind

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hiatus terminus, aka ... Back on Tour! 

Our tour resumes this week! Our first show will be on Friday in Roseburg, at My Coffee & The Wine Experience... we're getting ready to pack our stuff back into the Trusty Van, seeing as we've spread ourselves out through most of an entire house. Things I'll miss: the bathroom. The spaciousness beneath these protective walls and roof, and the easy-access washer/dryer. Having a whole refrigerator humming at all hours, keeping our food reliably chilled. And a sink to do the dishes (ah one of the joys of the road, doing dishes in our big pot, with a small trickle of bottled water to rinse off the soap).
But as tempting as these creature comforts are, I look forward to the rolling grace of wheels on the road, the constant fever-dream of summer sun and billowing skies all around. The hours working on our computers in coffee shops, practicing music in parks and alleyways, under storefronts, beside train tracks and rivers as joggers and cyclists push wind in front of us... I look forward to the frequent passerby who is pulled into our bubble of sound.
I'm allured by the vision that is the Pacific, with towering craggy cliffs and sandy coves that suggest sculpture, the foam of ideas and music that creeps up every time I am exposed to that wild body of water.
I am tugged by the desert, Arizona and New Mexico and the bold heat that cracks the earth, highlights the true value of fresh water. In touring, I look forward to shaking hands and sharing stories, songs, imagination with all the old friends and the new, and to creating music that reflects all of our broad experiences.

Cheers,
Rosalind

Oregon Coast 

The past couple of days have been spent along the Oregon coast, since our Paddy's Day gig at Nana's Irish Pub in Newport. Paddy's Day 2015 was another round of well-focused, well-compensated, and fun gigging. We had our first show at Biddy McGraw's pub in Portland followed by the above-mentioned concert in Newport. At both shows we connected with folk music aficionados, several of whom were musicians themselves. Oregon has proven to have a solid audience for our music, and for music in general... I find myself consistently impressed at the knowledgeability of our listeners.

That night we slept in The Waves Motel, at the courtesy of Nana's Pub, which might have been any motel except for the morning bayside windows that illuminated a view of the lazy, frothing surf. We lounged our way towards the beach, and took a walk across the length of one of the widest, sandy beaches I've encountered. We must have walked a mile by the time we both noticed a stench wafting towards us, and my nose told me it was some dead animal upwind from us. Sure enough, I spied a hulking, bulbous shape laying in the sand some hundred feet away. I pointed it out to Arlo, and we made our way to examine the figure of a washed up, decaying sea lion. It appeared to be quite bloated, and the neck had been torn (perhaps that was how it had died?) to reveal the bones of its spine and sinewy muscle. We stood watching in morbid fascination for a moment, as the flies played touch-and-go with the corpse, before we ambled onward. That was the first time both of us had ever seen a sea lion so close up. I have wondered why I don't seen washed up sea creatures more regularly. The beaches always seem too clean, sanitary saltwash cleaning the sand in much the same way that funeral homes sterilize the experience of death in the everyday world. The encounter with the sea lion provided a statement of the plain fact of the circle of life, that undeniable cycle that is always taking place.

The drive up from Newport to Astoria was rich with visions of the Pacific sun glancing off the blue gray water between scraggly pines. We had decided that we may as well venture up the coast now, while we were already road bound and vibing it up in oceanside fervor. We first spotted signs for the town of Tillamook 16 miles out, a town made famous across the west coast for its cheese and dairy production. Our curiosity, both of us being cheese lovers, was piqued and we decided to stop in Tillamook to try the local staple. Our first pull-off was at a dairy, with a sign up that proclaimed it to be a producer for Tillamook cheese. I looked around the warehouse for some indication of a tasting room, but all I found were cows in small confinement stations, a busy-body fellow who kept moving around the noisy barn out of earshot, doing cleanup work, and closed doors to empty offices. We continued toward Tillamook, and were perplexed to find that no large signs prevailed in the town to tell us where the Tillamook plant was, or the tasting room. Heading out of town, there were two signs for a dairy called Blue Heron, which proclaimed "Free Samples". Not ones to pass on items gratis, we pulled over and commenced to try brie cheese and numerous varieties of jam and dipping sauces. There didn't seem to be anyone working at the place, which was impressive for it being a rather large and well-stocked store. We wandered around for a time, used the restrooms, and finally, as several more travelers filed in, saw the woman who worked the cheese-tasting counter. I've never paused at a roadside attraction that didn't seem strange in some way, and this one had its own brand of oddness... a blend of specialty products from around the world, and only a very small selection of cheeses made by Blue Heron itself.

As we were leaving town, we passed the Tillamook factory without stopping. We'd had enough roadside attractions for the day, and Astoria still awaited. The rest of the drive took us to a state park near Astoria, where we discovered a hissing sound that turned out to be our tire leaking air. We knew we had the things we needed to take care of the problem (a spare tire, a jack, and Arlo's know-how), and the question arose of whether we wanted to enjoy the space before we delved into fix-it mode or change gears and immediately change the tire. We decided to climb out the jetty first, since we had made the effort to get out there and see the sunset. Quality of life is largely determined by letting things be what they are, and prioritizing a positive attitude and go-with-the-flow mentality. We enjoyed the sunset with the waves surging against the jetty, watching massive ships in the distance, and when we got back to the car, we changed out the tire and finished the drive to Astoria.

-Rosalind

The Fourth Wall 

Being a Performing Artist

I came from a background in theater, acting and participating in the creation of plays throughout grade school and high school. Of the various concepts that I learned in classes and shows, the Fourth Wall was one of the most fascinating to me. This is a term for the space at the front of the stage, between the performer and the audience. In this space, there resides an energetic/imagined divider that serves many purposes. The fourth wall can be thick or thin, opaque or transparent. It can have a door, it can be any scenery you want. If you are a sensitive artist who needs some protection from the energy of the crowd, you can imagine any kind of wall... perhaps you are inside the Secret Garden, and vines crawl up and down, and the stage lights are sunlight folded between the branches of the trees overhead. Perhaps it is merely a wall with the windows flung open so that the world can listen. The Fourth Wall is not a permanent fixture, and audience interaction need not be impeded by its presence. The performer can transform said wall into no wall at all, and stand in front of the audience in full candor. But whatever the performer chooses to place at the tipping point where the stage ends and the audience begins, there is always a performance taking place on the stage.

 

Our Live Album Show

We performed our first Live Album show last week. Prior to the show, we were aiming to drum up at least ten to twenty- preferably enthusiastic- people. Failing that, any number of listeners would suffice. We laid down a good chunk of change in online promotion and postering costs, and told all of our personal contacts in Portland about the show.

What we got was an audience of six people (for a moment it may have actually gone up to eight, but the two we didn't know may have been a figment of my imagination, they disappeared so quickly). Three of them we personally invited, and three that our friends brought with them. So it wasn't the ten to twenty we'd been dreaming up, but it was... Success, right? Our notoriety was spreading word-of-mouth! Who knows, at this rate, a few shows down the road we could have three or four times that crowd size, all through word-of-mouth and personal invitation.

One of our friends who is touring stated in a definitive tone that her greatest successes have been due to personal invitation, and this experience plus many others on the road has solidified that concept. Sure, bands can "take off", but it requires a lot of word-of-mouth, and radio time, and a supportive group of local promoters.

We performed a good show for our low-key crowd of friends. In the venue there was a listening/music room, and a bar area in a separate but connected room. There were at least twice as many people at the bar, and a loudspeaker invitation couldn't quite convince them to come over for our show. Arlo's deduction was that our low attendance was compounded by it being a Tuesday night, which is code for "Mostly Everybody Stay Home Night (Unless You're Already Famous)" in Portland. Some of our friends hooted for us, others were busy on their phones, and I found myself putting up a more solid "Fourth Wall". As I played, I became more present on the stage. It was just us, the Stringtown Ambassadors, performing for whoever was out there, and my playing grew more and more focused over the duration of the show.

Some thoughts on the Fourth Wall in Theater versus Music Performance:

One difference between a musical performance and a play is that the actors are behaving as other personalities having a dialog with one another. Our act is likewise a presentation of dialog, but with the intention of communicating our own personal inspiration, a much more translucent and vulnerable being than the persona of an actor's character. Our instruments and our bodies are our means for communicating. Frequently, the most challenging part about putting on a show is the talking that comes between pieces, because it is here that I always lower the Fourth Wall and directly encounter the people before me (which is disheartening sometimes when the people are not even observing our actions, but finding entertainment in their phones... I can see why most theaters have tried to ban the use of cell phones during shows).

It is impossible to know the scale and scope of my impact on those who hear what I have to offer, but as long as I can imagine a Fourth Wall, I can also imagine that I am providing inspiration and excitement for our audiences everywhere.

Planning for Inspiration

We had the chance to listen to a very rough cut of the show that the sound producer sent us the other day. The final cut of the Live Album will be a proud performance of our most recent material, one that holds the inspiration we carry even through one of our more difficult shows. This Live Album is an exciting benchmark, and we look forward to carrying it on the road with us. This experience has led me to believe that you can plan for inspiration, and bring it with you even, and especially, when your environment offers you challenges. With every hardship there comes an opportunity to dig a little deeper into yourself, and the potential to come out with knowledge of your own immense capability to bring inspiration to the world. We are the purveyors of our own creative imagination, and I look forward to the many live recordings yet to come, and to the many listeners who couldn't make it to our show, I know you will enjoy the CD even more than the last one!

In good cheer, for Spring is here in Portland, and the music doth flow like the Columbia River.

Rosalind

 

Touch Down  

Well, we finally had to admit that we couldn’t live in the van forever, so we decided to take one month off to rest before our journeys commence in April. We landed in Portland OR last week, and spent many the stressful hour pouring over Craigslist adds looking for somewhere that we could afford, and that would be supply our needs for time, space, and privacy. Amazingly we found a nice room to rent in a nice house, with a nice housemate, a nice dog, a nice cat, and one cat that’s only sorta nice. We moved in last Thursday, (and by moved in I mean threw some shit on the floor and set up our sound system, we don’t really have any furniture) and settled in to a little domesticity. Actually, wait, we didn’t settle in at all now that I think about it. Instead, we drove to Seattle the next day for a three day binge of late night music and great times at the amazing Wintergrass Music Festival, and then we settled in to a… No actually we didn’t settle in then either now that I think about it, we spent two day franticly practicing for and performing our Live Album Concert, which turned out quite well despite the fact that trying to get people out of their houses to hear some music in Portland on a Tuesday night is just about impossible. But the show went off, and I am really looking forward to hearing the recordings. So. Now we are settling into a little domesticity. Right this moment. I am very much looking forward to a long week of sending all those emails I have been meaning to send, and walking the newly acquired dog, and cooking food on a real stove, and showering whenever I want. Home sweet home.
 
Arlo Blaisus 3-4-15
 
 
 
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