May 2012
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Wolves - Phosphorescent
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This has grown on me all day. What the heck,...
brianstowell asked: You rule. Thank you so much!
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You will be pleased to know that I've initiated... →
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“He was also installing microphones under the eaves outside his window. Thanks to...”
– Jack White, ”Jack Outside the Box” by John Eells
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I could really use that key-dropping gif right now.
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Blunderbuss - Jack White
Cover by Amelie...
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“Despite what he said, Jane knew this was why Paul wrote: without a book, he was...”
– Amelie Andrezel, “One Short Dance”
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“There were photographs in bookstores and photographs in airports and a couple in...”
– Amelie Andrezel, “Handedness”
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One Short Dance
Today I posted all of the finished parts of “One Short Dance.” I had forgotten how sad it was! Anyway, here’s the whole thing in order, if you want to read it:
Sam Thomas
Peter McGinn
Arnold Blum
Puget Sound
Vienna
Paul Mitchell Hayes
Eleanor and Katharine
To Be Full
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Peter McGinn (Unabridged)
In the summer before Jane’s senior year in high school, her friend Corina Williams had a pool party for the Fourth of July. Corina’s parents lived in a duplex on Richmond Avenue, the kind with a deep lot and proportionally tall fences. It was on this legal pad of land that an above-ground pool had been erected, complete with sprawling concrete patio—ideal for beers and barbeque. All summer...
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Sam Thomas (unabridged)
Jane Allison Parker’s favorite memory of the seventh grade was the dance class she attended in the little studio above her uncle’s hardware store on one hundred and eighty-second street. Every Saturday, she would tie up her straight, red hair and wear a black dress with a low back. From eight thirty to noon, she and the other girls would bend and glide in time with the music. They watched one...
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“For the first time in a very long time, she thought of the faceless men. It had...”
– Amelie Andrezel, “One Short Dance”
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To Be Full (unabridged)
On a bright September afternoon, when Poppy was in the fourth grade, Jane sat in the printing studio with the windows open, listening to the birds in the tree outside.
It was one of those timeless hours, where the sun freezes between the yellowing branches and the whole day takes on a twilight quality. The earth pauses momentarily in the last throes of summer before its dramatic swing into the...
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Eleanor and Katharine
Some nights, when Poppy had been put to bed, Jane and Paul would watch a film on the old television in the living room. To keep down the noise—and ensure Poppy stayed asleep—they would mute the dialogue. Sometimes, they invented their own storylines—particularly for action films. Paul would take the male roles and Jane the ladies. The object of the game was to deliver lines each more...
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Paul Mitchell Hayes (unabridged)
Five years after her first show at the Evanston Community Arts Cooperative, Jane’s photographic essay, “Structure”, landed a solo showing at the Smart Gallery in downtown Chicago. On May 14, the day of the opening gala, Jane spent most of the afternoon in front of the mirror, deciding what to wear.
She had spent her last paycheck on two new dresses, both of which she loved with equal devotion. ...
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Puget Sound
The first time that she noticed him was when he was in the records section, trying to decide between “Desire” and “O! Mercy” in the original vinyl. He had on a long, tan coat—longer than had been in fashion for years. Underneath it, he was wearing jeans and a Puget Sound Intramural Champions t-shirt.
From where she was standing behind the register, Jane couldn’t make out much of his face. It...
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Arnold Blum (unabridged)
Janey moved to Evanston in July after her junior year, to a little box situated at the back of a somewhat larger box, erected sometime before the war.
The pink and orange sunlight of Sunday morning filtered into its constituent wavelengths around the towers of unpacked boxes on the floor of her new apartment. Pushing one of the stacks aside to create an open place at the center of the room, Jane...
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Jealous
These are the things that make you jealous:
A girl’s hair on the train, spread out like fire bursts on some grey stranger’s shoulder.
The color of fresh eggs, cracked against the frying pan and firming in the heat.
Paper folded twelve times lengthwise, incapable of bending to another pair of hands.
The music in the moment when the music has just ended: chairs and footsteps and cat-calls and...
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“She always seemed to float in photographs, a woman made of air, nothing keeping...”
– Amelie Andrezel, “Handedness” from Trajectories
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Handedness
The man sat at his desk and folded the length of paper three times before crumpling it into a ball and letting it fall to the floor. He spread out another piece of paper in front of him and bent his head over the table so that his hair fell in his eyes. The sun shone through the window on the back of his neck. Gently, he smoothed the edges of the paper with his long fingers, trying to get it to...
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Yeah, this happened...
Super jealous you’re going to see Jack White this weekend! Let me know how it goes. :) “It Might Get Loud” is a really incredible documentary and I hope you enjoy it. -Amelie A.
[^ Asked by andrezel]
queenofisreal: I’ll make sure to keep you updated on what I’m sure will be an exhilarating and phenomenal performance!
Ah yes, I’ve heard wonderful things about it. It’s so...
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“You should know
That I won’t be your’s
One second longer than you...”
– You Should Know, Amelie Andrezel
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smokeandsong:
andrezel:
Love is Blindness - U2
Cover by Amelie Andrezel
Holy everliving hell how did you do that
Put good in, get good out.
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“Jack : G, B-minor?
The Edge: G, D, C.
Jack: Oh, right here?
...”
– Jack White and The Edge, on playing The Band’s song, “The Weight,” in It Might Get Loud
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Well, it’s official. PhD defense date scheduled for 10:30 am, Thursday, June 28, 2012. The day of reckoning is upon us.
Well, me, really.
Just me.
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By the way, this is awesome and free... →
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Sometimes I feel like you could solve the inverse problem of my internet search history using only this blog.
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Awake My Soul - Mumford & Sons
Cover by...
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Trajectories (continued)
A little bell rang at the front of the cafe and the young man raised his eyes toward the door. He waved with a tired smile at the woman who walked through it. She looked about his age, with slim shoulders and dark hair pinned in a wave at her brow. She sat down beside him at the bar, lying her hands across her purse on the counter.
“Is seven a large number?” he asked, as if to...
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