<i.>
The old Ramen Noodle Corral has gone a bit quiet lately, through no fault of our own, as The Squawker and I have endured nearly two months of bang-bang-bang, busy-busy-busy, full-on, full-on, go-go-go activity. We wound up moving 30 feet down the hall of our current tower block, due to some fast-growing mold that prompted Management to say: "Right, you can't stay here anymore." And so, therefore...we had to up sticks, simple as that, which ate up the second and third weeks of February. As the old cliche runs: you never realize how much stuff you've got, until you move. Which, in my case, means an entire archive -- flyers, live CDs/tapes, magazines, musical equipment, photos, press cuttings, the list goes on and on -- plus hundreds and hundreds of books. Put it this way: it wasn't your standard issue job. I'm just glad it's done and dusted.
<ii.>
As if the above-mentioned tasks weren't stressful enough, we had loads of paperwork to do. Our federal/state taxes topped that list, followed by the signing of a lease for the new space -- only a couple weeks after we'd signed a renewal on the old one -- and various bits of records that we needed to produce for this prescription, or that one. We also had loads of calls to make, as well, in providing the new address to the usual suspects (insurance, phone and electric companies; Social Security; and so on). And that's how February blurred right on into March.
<iii.>
March rolled on with its own array of challenges. To our mutual dismay, The Squawker and I discovered a snag in our state refund, which was being held up due to a random ID check that the state imposed...or perhaps some other unspecified glitch that some gremlin at the Department of Treasury discovered. Well, those were the differing explanations that their customer service representative offered.
We didn't get to the bottom of it, exactly, nor could we afford to spend too much time on it, since we use much of that state windfall to pay the federal tax. I wound up having to borrow the entire amount, with a promise to make good...as soon as we completed that damned ID check, and that doubly damned state arrived. Which it finally did, last week, so now we can repay the appropriate parties. Which is how we've got to April, and hopefully, we don't have anymore adventurous hurdles to overcome!
<iv.>
Now we come to these images, shot while The Squawker and I were on a trip to Chicago last summer, if I recall correctly. Naturally, I'd forgot all about these, until I'd picked up the camera, looking for other images, per usual...and stumbled across them. With Squawker's approval, I've posted them, since their blurriness creates a cool effect,I reckon. For me, it's a reminder of the quote attributed to Miles Davis: "If you don't make mistakes, you aren't really trying." (Or the lesser snappier version: "Do not fear mistakes. There are none.")
<v.>
That point made, now I see why I've rolled out these images from our cheapo cheapo punk rock camera. It's about the art of the blur, the feeling of constant motion, as Squawker held up that little red camera, click-click-click, snapping away with mad abandon, through the window of our friend's car, catching as catch can...a fitting comment, I think, on how hectic and frantic these last couple of months have felt. At any rate, enjoy these images, brought to you by the Outsider Art Gallery...while we enjoy some hard-fought peace and quiet. --The Reckoner
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