Learning about the tonbak, a Persian drum, from the Hidden Drummers of Iran documentary. (Look up esfahan_tonbak_arefacademy on Instagram.)
Bob Dylan’s Q&A with Bill Flanagan from 2017.
“The melody in [‘There’s a Flaw in My Flue’] is kind of like the background in the Mona Lisa painting, a mystical, phantasmagorical fantasy land. To me that’s the real painting, like a science fiction world. The person looking at me is just a face …”
At an Andy Warhol-themed event, watching a man in a period-incorrect blond afro wig amusingly but horribly yell at the event’s DJ for playing period-correct records — an “I can’t believe anyone could behave this way” moment.
Yanyi’s interview in the Creative Independent: “I realized that creativity is not in the business of being productive.”
The typo in a text from an acquaintance: “have a good nugget.”
The moment, while looking at your olive drab shirt, olive drab belt, olive drab watch band, and olive drab carry-on bag, when you realize that you’re like one of those military geeks who wore fatigues to high school.
Taking the Amtrak train home to Chicago, like a quaint little pioneer.
Passing a gravestone shop called Grieff’s.
Smelling a smell in Union Station that, for one super brief moment, seemed to change my entire experience of the world — like a whole new feeling of life in one second. It’s weird how smells can do that.
Kim Gordon’s No Home Record and Mohammed Reza Mortazavi’s Ritme Jaavdanegi (thanks Billy-John).
Rebecca Solnit in Hope in the Dark: “The apocalypse is always easier to imagine than the strange circuitous routes to what actually comes next.”
The dump truck with a bunch of rubber flaps strung beneath it, like scales on a centipede’s underbelly.
Getting more and more uncomfortable with the cognitive dissonance of driving while despising oil companies — not because of my individual car’s emissions, but because I’m complicit in those companies’ horrible practices when I buy gas from them.