Fire and Rock I'm Coming Home To You

(AKA, The Sad Romance of Punk)

I've been listening to a lot of punk lately-- the driving rhythm keeps me moving, and the ragged sound reminds me of Philadelphia and the life I used to lead. While I'm so very busy, buried under dozens of digital shapes and looming deadlines and a skillset that I've absolutely no experience in, it's good to have music that's simple and anarchic and idealistic.

I think I mentioned that I like Mischief Brew before-- they're a ratty, DIY band that goes on about anarchy and the punk scene and like that. I take a certain pleasure in riding in to school early in the morning singing,

There's MUD ON MY BOOTS!
And BLOOD ON MY JEANS!
I'll take those pretty dresses
TEAR 'EM AT THE SEAMS!
Open up the gates of hell... Ah please
And I'll be back-
IN YOUR DAUGHTER'S DREAMS! 

Even if I remembered to put my face on, and my messenger bag is clean and my bike is upright and my hair is parted straight, songs like these keep a part of me in the world I loved so much-- the gentle souls with their community gardens and giant bike piles, kitchens full of drying herbs and cats and trashpicked art. Maybe I'm romanticizing. Here's a song about it:

Wish you were here. 

Not that there's anything wrong with Brooklyn, but I have no time for adventuring and riding out, and I don't recognize any faces on the road. I suppose it will take time, and until I'm not at school twelve+ hours a day I won't be able to make a community for myself (aside from my colleagues, who are generally wonderful). 

One of these colleagues drives along my rout, and informed me that I'm always riding behind the same guy. So now I expect some dude to wheel around and say WHY ARE YOU STALKING ME? I am really unobservant in the morning.

I think the one thing I object to about Brooklyn is a poorly calibrated sense of irony. People make such an effort to be coolest of the cool, so over everything, and then you get things like this: 

What happens when a mushroom gets stuck in the tubing?

And this, a bike powered steampunk carousel that combines everything young, wealthy, ironic Brooklyners like:

I'm actually ambivalent about this. Part of me thinks it's pretty neat.

I really need to go to a punk show. And a bike co-op. Wish I had time. I haven't even got time for laundry or groceries. Christmas break is gonna be very sociable... 

'...And its not long

Before I start to roam.
Seek out the patches on the punks,
Maybe a band I know.
I bet you in five minutes time,
We find that we know all the same
People, places, and roads.'

But damned if this city isn't beautiful. 

Off Governor's Island

Next post will be about industrial design! Today I made some scanners...

-Isis

A Fish that Walks and a Dog that Talks

Brooklyn is definitely having a good effect on me. I get up with more than 10 minutes to spare (15) so I have time to play with the cat and paint my eyebrows on. I've been following traffic rules. I always have two lights on me and I haven't forgotten them yet. And I am always astonished by something when I ride out...

Nope nope nope nope nope!

 I'm working harder than I ever have in my life.

It's astonishing how much my attitude has changed since undergrad. Then, I wanted easy classes and I wanted to excel and that was about it. Now, the one easy class I have makes me ragey-- this is really expensive and I need to get really good pronto! Make this harder! That was an inconceivable attitude three years ago. Now I have a clear goal in mind, a clear set of tasks I need to do to achieve that goal, and damned if I'm not putting every bit of energy I have into it.

I think undergrad was as much about growing up as it was about learning things. Now I'm more or less content with who I am as a person, I can really concentrate on being a person with a CAREER. That barely entered my mind in 2006...

My program crams four years of industrial design undergrad into one year of grad school, so the workload is kind of staggering. I can just barely keep on top of it, and my mind is always skipping ahead to the next thing that needs to be done, planning, allocating time. I expected to be more stressed, but so far, while there is stress, I've been uncharacteristically calm and peaceful. And whenever I do get jumpy there's always a nice spoiled Pratt Catt to chum with.

Meet Winston. He is chummy. 

And I do miss Philadelphia and my dear friends and sandwiches not costing $10 and everything being close and only having to ride four miles to my gentleman-friend's house. I miss the rivers and the space and the lazy long evenings in company. But it was time, past time. And I seem to be wired for new things and striving, rather than comfort and consistency.

 I DON'T miss subpar bagels though. And the light here has been extraordinary:

I just about fell off my bike.

Speaking of bikes, this Saturday is the Brooklyn Bike Jumble so if you're in NYC you should go. And if you're selling bikes two of my classmates need 'em-- a 50 and a 55ish respectively. I am not allowing myself to buy anything! 

I was singing this as I rode home tonight, making up verses when I ran out of real ones. It's been in my head all day:

Tomorrow's the day my man's gonna come...

Is it bad that I like her version better than the original?

We'll see how long this good mood lasts. Ask me again at finals! 

Isis OUT.