The Cement Sea Meant … ?
While we all lead some kind of hurried life, this town of white buildings on windy hills breathes & has moods, slower & deeper than me or you.
by joshua heineman ( about cb )
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"Deeply Into Whatever"
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J[at]CURSIVEBUILDINGS.COM
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[ archives ]
Resonant Frequency
Sung in a certain pitch, your favorite words could shatter the windows.
ETERNAL SUNSET
![[ DDD ]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/MRcXpQ0mrmly9oz3AmcehYqHo1_400.gif)
SOFT AS SAND BLOWING OVER & THOUGHTLESS
at 8 am, in the newborn light of a birthday, an empty piano bar above san francisco sings “après avoir vu le déluge“… & is happiest.
PARAGRAPHS FROM A NOVEL I’LL NEVER FINISH
The next morning, sunlight brought me out of bed, into the streets before noon. I stopped at the corner store for cigarettes and a newspaper, which were placed in a plastic bag and pushed across the dirty counter without a word. I thanked the clerk, a Chinese man with bleary eyes set on a small television near the register. He didn’t say a thing or nod or look from the screen. A few moments later he turned up the volume and I left.
The streets were full of music. Not songs - though they were part of it - but sirens and screams, laughter, the revving of engines, the slamming of doors and footsteps on the concrete. Everything you’d imagine. I passed an old man with his cane rhythmically clacking out the beat of his weary steps. He wore a nice hat. I smiled and he didn’t smile back.
On the next block, three dark-haired children ran out in front of their parents, screaming in delight. The girls, they looked like sisters, stopped several times to gaze back in bewilderment at the sturdy faces of mother and father, who plodded along steadily behind them looking tired. They noticed a puppy dragging its snout through the crosswalk as a young couple pulled from a short leash. The kids jumped and hollered in place until the dog’s head left the scents of the asphalt, ears up, to face the commotion with tail wagging. I think they had a moment, these kids and that dog. It was just a moment, though, as the leash tightened and pulled again. “Girls!” mother said. “Stay close. Mind your own business.”
Cars filled three lanes of the one-way as I walked against traffic. They weren’t moving. Congestion or an accident further along the road had reduced it to a parking lot. The more-agitated drivers slammed at their horns, the sound of which populated the city sort of like coughs in a movie theater. Mostly the drivers wore looks of defeat, with heads in hands and cigarettes out the window. I watched a teenager pluck a smoke right from the fingers of a jaded driver, who fumbled with his seatbelt and got halfway out the door before dismissing the theft with a wave. He got another cigarette from his shirt pocket, picked up a phone from the passenger seat and added several honks to the chorus. I only heard him say “Yeah Charlie? You wouldn’t believe what some bastard kid just…” as I turned the corner.
Here, the hill dropped the street at an insane angle into the financial towers and empty canyons of the weekend business district. Four- and five-story apartment blocks opened onto an epic sky and skyline, lifting my heart. I felt like an angel descended from the neighborhoods while a flock of pigeons curled from over my head into a loading dock, as if on cue. There was a halo of blue water behind the city and fog surrounded the entire view, blocking out any thoughts of the wider world. This was my home.
ROOM W/A VIEW
sometimes i feel like a guest in my own apartment. i dream here, sleep or no, while s.francisco deconstructs itself in every direction around me. this city is intense & short-lived… but the saltwater tucks its edges in on three sides like a mother putting her baby to bed. & so we carry on & reimagine our lives every morning. i’m a sucker for such springtimes. i think it’s what keeps me here for now.
ps. i have an unfinished painting study from my grandfather pinned to the wall of my bedroom. it’s the first thing i see every morning… the only thing on an otherwise empty wall. i think it’s perfect. potential is a drug. merry evening & happy new weekend.
GOODMORNING MARCH
saturday afternoon i took a train to south san francisco, where i picked up a car & pointed it straight at the sunset. i have friends who live on the coast just north of devil’s slide, & i’m housesitting this week. it took only one evening of television to completely wreck my mood… i have no tv at my apartment (internet is tv since 2004!). so i went outside & sat on the curb, beneath the dim starlite & damp chill of this pacific seaside. i played songs on a guitar & drank homebrewed double ipa’s that my nice friends had left for me. still i felt restless. later i fell asleep on the couch w/my face pressed into a jacket. i woke up sunday morning, j’ai brossé les dents, grabbed a book & walked to the beach. the sun was holy. i paced back & forth on the sand while reading the birth of tragedy to myself in whispers. eventually i realized how weird that was & retreated behind a concrete wall, which also blocked the wind. the seagulls overhead cast funny bird-shaped shadows on the ground around me & i had trouble concentrating… even the sounds of crumbling waves cast a sleepy haze. i returned to the house, found an ideal spot in the backyard, set up a plastic reading throne & switched books. before long i was simply lying on the concrete, half-asleep & hopeful.
TOOTHBRUSHING IN THE MORNING LIGHT
please click this tiny pic to see the epic clip.
TWO CHAIRS BY A WINDOW
the reason it’s hard to see beauty is because everything is.
Selfportrait as Conductor: Though control is illusion.
BLUE BOTTLE BLUES
except for the 20 minutes i spent waiting in this line for an americano from blue bottle coffee company, i stayed in bed all day trying not to think of anything except the movie production of my dreams. this is not the healthiest life, i know.
ANOTHER NITE, ANOTHER DANCE
& nothing is truly still, like those old cartoons your grandparents watched.
