Blues & Bluster is in service to Summer this evening, my wonderful partner and all-around awesome woman, whose birthday is today, and whose birthweek is this week.
So tonight, all songs played will either be ones she loves (or that I think she does) or which reference summer in some way. Fer instance:
It's Blues & Bluster! Another fabulous two-hour block of the old, the wondrous, the odd, and you. Only on Hollow Earth Radio. Every Thursday from 11pm - 1am PST!
Blues & Bluster has a slight case of the melancholy sighs this week, and instead of trying to deny it, pushing it down to the flats of our feet so that we might walk all over its face, we have decided to embrace it with our long limber limbs like a scarecrow blown around a fencepost.
So phooey on this fantastic summer weather, we make our way toward Low, Antony, Nina, Neko, and maybe a roundtable discussion on the nature of the blues.
It's Blues & Bluster! Another fabulous two-hour block of the old, the wondrous, the odd, and you. Only on Hollow Earth Radio. Every Thursday from 11pm - 1am PST!
Blues & Bluster has a two-fold purpose this week, above and beyond our usual sound adventure mixmastery:
We say goodbye to poet William James, as he steps out of state into Oregon; and
We give a few sets over to the musicians of Summer Meltdown, the multi-day outdoor music and camping festival up in Darrington this weekend.
It will be a sweltering mix of poetry and long-form jam, mashed by bare feet and cooked in the sun.
It's Blues & Bluster! Another fabulous two-hour block of the old, the wondrous, the odd, and you. Only on Hollow Earth Radio. Every Thursday from 11pm - 1am PST!
Tyson and Summer were kind enough to give me a tour of their spacious apartment, and show me some of the adorable antique and salvaged accents they've added to this ultra-modern space.
The King County Regional Trail System spans over 175 miles, bounded by Bothell, Auburn, Seattle, and the Cascades. It is one of the nation's largest trail networks, with paths for travel by hikers, equestrians, and walkers alike. And this past weekend, I and 50 other folks covered a not insignificant portion of them.
The brainchild of artist Susan Robb in conjunction with 4Culture, The Long Walk is many things: an reframing of time and space, a glowing love letter to our parks and trails, an experimental venue for site-specific pieces of art, and an exercise in endurance, because 50 miles is actually quite a distance when taken on foot.
Between 5:00 a.m. last Thursday at Golden Gardens and coming to a blistered rest Sunday afternoon at Snoqualmie Falls, we walkers explored Magnuson Park from beach to hangar, met the people of Duvall in a decommissioned train depot, discussed the nature of landscape by a re-purposed barn in Carnation, and tried to spot the bottom of the falls by Salish Lodge. The entire weekend was spent in engaged constitutionals, thoughtful meanders, intentional pacings.
For me—someone who does not take hikes and who had not, before this, walked more than one mile of the Burke-Gilman, even though I live in Ballard—the Walk was transformative. I did not know the extent of the trails, nor how they connected the city and the county, and I had little desire to find out. Why would I? This is why I have a truck.
Now, I'm struck by the possibility of going cross-town via tree-shaded trails, scheduling extra time to get where I'm going, devoting weekends to hikes and undirected rambles. Why wouldn't I? This is why I have a bike. Feet. Access.
And access, turns out, was a contentious word during the Walk. Articles from Josh Feit at Publicola and Mike Seely at Seattle Weekly went live Thursday and Friday, decrying the use of public funds on The Walk, especially since the group of Walkers themselves numbered only 50. What Seely and Feit seem to be most concerned by is whether a percentage of the public constitutes The Public and, if so, what that percentage should be.
Seely, in particular, seems particularly chuffed by it, calling me (not specifically or anything, just the Walkers in general) an "in-the-know urban scenester". Which is true, I guess, in that I read about The Walk in The Stranger last year and saw the open call for applicants that 4Culture put up this year. It's true in that I was familiar with and interested by the project. There is a degree, I must allow, to which the audience for this is self-selecting, but seems to me there's a saying about forest and trees that might be applicable.
Personally, I think most art is not for all people. The only difference here is that the size of the audience for this piece of art is specific and known. Your interaction with The Long Walk is my telling you about it. At least this year. But maybe what you read here will excite you in the same way I was excited when I read Jen Graves' coverage in The Stranger. Maybe next year, you'll keep an eye out for The Long Walk's call for walkers. And maybe you'll be as surprised as I was by the expanse and accessibility of these trails, their beauty and adventure, and without needing to wait for someone to lead you, you'll take off on your own.
Blues & Bluster is in service to Summer this evening, my wonderful partner and all-around awesome woman, whose birthday is today, and whose birthweek is this week.
