Sunday 11/17/24

November 17, 2024

On Sundays I reflect.

I had a few beers at my cousin’s wedding last night. For the most part these days I’m not drinking. At this point it’s been a few months since my last drink.

It’s just after 8 am and I’m slightly hungover on a plane home from Memphis. I got about three to four hours of sleep last night.

I’ve got to take a step back before sharing more about my cousin Rachel’s wedding. It’s been a wild week. Should I go forwards or backwards? Time is just a construct. A friend Ben told me last night that he doesn’t do chronology but he can do math. I guess I feel the same way.

I’ve been consistent in the gym this week with my routine. A few things interfered this weekend but overall I’m feeling pretty good about the return of Body Builder Ben.

I’m listening to some far out shit right now. It’s all over the place but one gem I found is the absolute rager “Doorman” by Slowthai and Mura Masa. High energy UK punk rocker grime rap. It’s quick and hard, and features samples from an obscure Australian documentary about UK punks and drugs.

My dad recently discovered Brian Eno and reminded me to get back to that can of worms I opened in college. It’s on the agenda but I haven’t had time yet.

This week I got a rare opportunity in the studio. Sometimes they are immediate and sometimes these take years.

Over the last couple of years since Red Cliff Stan moved in to Bat Country Studios I’ve been introduced to a man named Shane. Since the day I met Shane he’s been a friend and supporter of the studio. He built and installed Stan’s station at the studio with help from NüBen and then he built a closet that served as a dark room for a bit. Finally, Stan and I made time to get Shane’s cup made from some dichro and crushed Opal tubing Shane had picked out over a year ago. He never nagged us and gave us the space to get to it when we could get to it. I had a great time making the cup with Stan even though he’ll tell you I was talking shit across the room about his prep the entire time. Sometimes we just gotta give each other a hard time to keep us on our toes. Without Stan’s help the cup would not have come out as nice as it did.

Never has selling my art ever felt as good as the feeling I get from making it. The process of glass is like a game or a puzzle, and the outcome is never guaranteed.

For the record, I’m in the aisle seat and the middle seat is open next to me on an otherwise full plane. The same arrangement played out just two days ago on my flight to Memphis.

Anyways, I got to blow glass this week and that’s rad. Sometimes it’s a struggle and other times it flows.

I had a friend tell me at dinner this week they read my blog most Sundays. It was flattering and surprising as sometimes these can really just drag on and on for weeks at a time until any real clarity emerges for me.

I haven’t even gotten to mention opening day at Vail on Friday. Some of you know I would never go to Summit County in the preseason much less any other time, so it was my first day of the year on my board. I got to shred groomers with my pals in the hot sun. My body remembers what it feels like to use every single muscle at once. I’m about ready for some powder and I heard we might get some soon.

After a few cups of coffee at Two Arrows and a few hours of riding I made my way home. I had a bag packed for Memphis and had to drop my ski gear. This is where things took a turn.

I’m on my way to the airport and thank God I was flying out of Eagle rather than Denver even if I did have a layover there. I start to think about how funny it would be if I forgot something after assuring my mother that snowboarding wouldn’t cause me to miss my flight at 322 pm. It’s a 24 hour trip. What could I possibly need?

Cruising down the highway I remember as long as I have my ID I’ll be fine. I continue the thought and realize I should double check my wallet. I never take my ID out of my wallet of course it’s there. I’m starting to panic. I open my wallet and fuck me I put my driver’s license in my ski pants pocket and never put it back.

It you haven’t been playing “Doorman” on repeat this would be the time to give that one a listen. It’s been playing almost as long as I’ve been writing this one and it was definitely playing in the car at the time of my actualization Friday. It’s at this time I notice the gas indicator telling me I’m below 40 miles of range.

I gps the airport. It’s like 30 miles but now I need to backtrack home to fetch my ID. No time to get gas. I’m flying and time is closing in. I legitimately thought I might miss the flight. I get back to the house and thankfully found my license promptly where I left it. I’m scrambling to find keys to another car and messaging Seth who would be helping with the car swap required for an Eagle Airport Shuffle.

Now I’m heading back down the hill ready to mob. Boarding closes at 307 pm and my gps says 259 arrival. It’s a good thing the sheriff wasn’t out.

I arrive in a frenzy and as I approach security he’s closing the gate. He sees me and reopens but it’s clear I’m the last person. Our airport has one terminal and four gates. There are three other people at the bag inspection and I try to circumvent the older folks who are moving slow.

TSA informs me that they are short staffed and I’ll need to wait until the agent can bring us all through together.

It’s some kind of tragedy of errors as I get on the plane and we begin to taxi. I’m in my zone ready for a quick hopper of a flight when they tell me Denver airport is busy and we cant depart. Thirty minutes later and I’m wondering if I’m going to make it to Memphis or not.

I made my layover but not before another delay taking off out of Denver.

I was born in Memphis before moving to Chicago. My childhood school breaks were almost all spent in Memphis with my mother’s family the Glazers. In my twenties and thirties I’ve hardly been back. Beyond being back only twice over the last decade I’ve hardly seen that side of the family or been much in touch. Sometimes I just get wrapped up in my own world. It’s easy to do being an artist in the mountains.

So ultimately what we’re getting to here is my youngest cousin’s wedding at the beautiful Jack Robinson Gallery, an artist I just began learning about last night. Rachel and Phil had a beautiful ceremony which my father officiated. It was full of jokes and witty banter but also serious enough when it needed to be to honor their commitment to each other.

My cousin Aaron not only carried in the couple’s dog above his head, but then he and his friends played a few sets of live music at the reception upstairs.

I grew up admiring Aaron’s drumming and looking forward to playing bass or guitar with his friends on our trips to Memphis. Last night I was reminded that he’s one of the best drummers I ever played with, if not the best. I didn’t know he was playing his sister’s wedding and it was a real treat that he put together a band with his friend Ben, another prodigious musician.

The first dance was light hearted and fun, setting the tone for the rest of the night.

I was introduced by various family members to single women, glass collectors, and ski enthusiasts. I attempted to engage but admittedly struggled to.

So by this point I have a feeling you’re exhausted reading my ramblings and I don’t blame you. I’m exhausted just recalling them.

That sentence reminded me of one more mention I can’t leave out.

Last Sunday night I went down to Denver to see my friend Alex Ubatuba’s show at the Purple Haze Gallery. Over the last year I’ve been able to see this work being produced by an artist who is truly pushing the boundaries of our medium; borosilicate glass. The show was amazing and I just want to wish Alex a congratulations; to a true visionary artist.

So life has been challenging as always, but there is more to be grateful for than I can write. I feel so privileged to live the life I do, and to be able to share these experiences with you.

Ok one last music tip. After probably two decades I was able to find an obscure album I’ve been looking for. K’antu Music Of The Andes - Taquirari. Look it up for some fierce flutes.

Thanks for tuning in and enjoy your Sunday. If you made it this far, you deserve to!

PS - I can’t believe I didn’t have time to write about the brothel slash speakeasy…