I want to do make this trip.

Packrafting the Kenai Fjords in Alaska. Great pictures.

http://www.aktrekking.com/2004/KenaiFjords/KenaiFjords1.html

Stuff

I posted about this before (and screwed up the link when I did), but I just added stuffwhitepeoplelike to the sidebar. Consider it a guest star, bound to come down eventually. Maybe I can set the tentative date for its coming down as such time as the site includes stuffwhitepeoplelike (the site) among the list there.

The Winds of Thor are Blowing Cold

Something has awoken the Scythian in me. (The last distraction I need right now is combination of Nordic curiosity and wikipedia addiction, but that's what has happened). Suddenly, I have some need to boat through the North Sea, scale fjords, tramp through strawberry fields in Sweden, summer-ski in the land of the God of Skiing, camp under the midnight sun, see old wooden kirks and red fishing cabins, dig through dead history and languages of the North, wander through millenia old grave markers rock carvings and runestones--a need to scratch some ancestral itch.



Soon I will be back to dreaming of Papua New Guinea, New Zealand and Marquesas, to be sure. Sunshine, beaches. Exotic fruit and spicy sauces. But somehow today, I have the North on the mind. Idle daydreams of Scandinavia. How exactly does a North American move to Norway or Sweden? Work for an oil company or a bank?



Daydreams will just have to be daydreams--for now. But I enjoy them. Soon, I will make it back. And then, I can explore the far reaches of the North. In the West, Bergen, the Faroe Islands, Iceland, Greenland. In the East, Finnland, Aaland, Öland, Latvia, Estonia. Last time I stretched from North to South. Maybe I should finally buy that bike and place a bike-ferry-and-train trek. That way I might lose this 10 pounds I've just gained back.

Tea

The English have their afternoon tea. And I have my afternoon Cha shao bao.



Not sure what I would do without it. Especially on a rainy day.

No use roaming.

Posted this cause I wanted a friend to pack up some sorrows. Listening to the words, I found them apt in other ways too. Beautiful, and don't anybody dare call it country. At least not out loud.

It's more Tim on local Chico radio ("Pack Up Your Sorrows"):

No use crying, talking to a stranger,
naming the sorrow you've seen
Too many bad times, too many sad times
Nobody knows what you mean

Chorus:
But if somehow you could pack up your sorrows
and give them all to me
You would lose them, I know how to use them
Give them all to me

No use rambling, walking in the shadows,
trailing a wandering star
No one beside you, no one to hide you
and nobody knows what you are

(Chorus)

No use gambling, running in the darkness,
Looking for a spirit that's free
Too many wrong times, too many long times
Nobody knows what you see

(Chorus)

No use roaming, going by the roadside,
Seeking a satisfied mind
Too many highways, too many byways,
and nobody's walking behind

When I think of Northern California, I feel like the Harness maker

The Mother Hips do some great Neil Young:



More exxxxcellent Neil:


And some really great Gene Clark too:


These two songs come from Everybody's Know this is Nowhere, my all-time favorite album to listen to while driving through the desert (just ahead of Joshua Tree and the the Exodus CD Willie Nelson compilation).

But if we're talking about my all-time favorite band to listen to while out on the open road, particularly within the Golden State, it's gotta be the Mother Hips.

Here's some stripped down (just Tim on this one) California soul:

-less

was listening to strawberry wine just now, played by mr burton, and put pen to paper. . .

Devil may care
Come now, my new ascetic friend. To strawberries and the desert. Up the streams and autumn pathways. Along the banks.
Come now, and leave those ones. To their own candid horrors. And unspoken highways of pain. Mornings will be.
Leave now, my favorite things. To be upset or heartboken. On to greater stories of the fallen. Fistless go on.
Die now, my teasing temper. Die or be woken to live. Life cannot wait for its end to begin. Be on alone.

Wolves. Idaho. And Slow Covers.

i love this song. and this cover is amazing.




thanks heaven for youtube playlists. I'm switching over from a tired iPod playlist, plugging in to my work computer and using mr burton as my soundtrack for another late night. Starting with his nick drake covers.

EDIT: an hour or so later, some of the nick drake to share:

As I Lay Me

The previous post was a reprise, written years ago. This one, a debut.

As I Lay Me
Night drenches my room in a funeral parlor stillness
And I ache at its coming alone
Sleep should be its accomplice
But night still comes alone
Descending inky deep and isolating
A solitary coyote
I muse that night has no friend
Still I'm wakeful in the cool tarry moat
Pondering the lone lowing wolf as it seeps in my window
I hear sounds in the silence.

Night Thoughts

"Will ich ein Komet sein? Ich glaube."
--Hölderlin

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three Translations of Goethe's

Nachtgedanken
Euch bedaur ich, unglückselige Sterne,
Die ihr schön seid und so herrlich scheinet,
Dem bedrängten Schiffer gerne leuchtet,
Unbelohnt von Göttern und von Menschen:
Denn ihr liebt nicht, kanntet nie die Liebe!
Unaufhaltsam führen ewge Stunden
Eure Reihen durch den weiten Himmel.
Welche Reise habt ihr schon vollendet!
Seit ich weilend in dem Arm der Liebsten
Euer und der Mitternacht vergessen.


1. Night Thoughts [My trans.]
You I mourn, unfortunate stars,
You who fair are and gloriously shine,
Downcast sailors gladly enlightening,
Uncompensated by gods or men:
For you love not, nor ever know love!
Unfailingly leading for hours eternal
Your rows through the wide skies.
Which journeys have you finished
Since I dwelt in beloved's arms
Forgetting you and the midnight?



2. Night Thoughts
Stars, you are unfortunate, I pity you,
Beautiful as you are, shining in your glory,
Who guide seafaring men through stress and peril
And have no recompense from gods or mortals,
Love you do not, nor do you know what love is.
Hours that are aeons urgently conducting
Your figures in a dance through the vast heaven,
What journey have you ended in this moment,
Since lingering in the arms of my beloved
I lost all memory of you and midnight.

3. Night Thoughts
Oh, unhappy stars! your fate I mourn,
Ye by whom the sea-toss'd sailor's lighted,
Who with radiant beams the heav'ns adorn,
But by gods and men are unrequited:
For ye love not,--ne'er have learnt to love!
Ceaselessly in endless dance ye move,
In the spacious sky your charms displaying,
What far travels ye have hasten'd through,
Since, within my loved one's arms delaying,
I've forgotten you and midnight too!

It's interesting how differently the ideas move over the language into English.

. . .

Woodeye! Woodeye!

From an unfortunate story and a conspiracy theory:

OSLO, Norway (AP) -- Austrian skier Matthias Lanzinger's lower left leg was amputated Tuesday because of complications from two broken bones in a crash at a World Cup race.

Lanzinger broke his shin and fibula Sunday during a super-G. The double fracture severely damaged blood vessels, hampering circulation in the 27-year-old skier's leg.

The Austrian ski federation said the surgery Monday night was only partly successful and left doctors no other option in an effort to avoid further risks.

"The circulation could not be stabilized," said doctor Thomas Hoelzenbein, who was flown in from Austria Monday to lead the operation.

Hmm . . . Thomas Hoelzenbein, eh? Doesn't Hoelzenbein mean "Wooden leg"? Lanzinger is almost sure to sue somebody (the World Cup event didn't have a medical helicopter available and have been criticized for other reasons). 60-mile per hour crashes are never pretty: but it does seem unusual that they'd have to amputate his leg because it healed poorly, so they might be looking at a malpractice suit. To that end, I'd love to spring the above question on the good doctor at the deposition. Hoelzenbein, eh. Is that your real name?