I started this blog at the time when my wife and I moved from our home in Louisville to New York City. Under The Flood was a title that inspired by the mystic grip the tital wave of Christmas 2004 had on my psyche as I experienced a life of 20 years endure a transformation that felt as destructive as it was creative. Since my last transmission, New Orleans has flooded, and I find myself in the timeline of things looking at incredible photos of flood wreckage in department stores and kids bedrooms where mud-wracked colorful clothing spills and dangles in primitive, postmodern beauty. This reminds me of a quote from the Village Voice this week: the cities of tomorrow will be build with mud and sticks.
Many moments have ripped new holes in me. The latest is the loss of Nathan. If you didn't know him, you have no idea. Many people in my life have an admirable capacity to appreciate interesting and compelling individuals who are at work on this earth. Nathan was such a person, but in knowing Nathan, you found yourself stepping past the point of admiring to wanting to see the world in the way he did. My walks in Bushwick (where Traci and I have finally have a home) have all week been in the company of Nate Dog. I may, in a free moment, try to share it with you.
For now, in honor of Nathan, who was a genius music engineer and even better human, and in honor of my sad self, who walks with his shadow, I sign off with the words of my neighborhood: develop, do not destroy.