Monday, June 04, 2007
Grass and trees courtesy of the apparently infinite amount of water supplied as if by magic to the Phoenix metro area. Rumbling down State Highway 87 into Mesa, one crosses a couple uncovered canals, brimming with water, slick-surfaced and sparkling. I guess the water comes from somewheres they got some sorta unlimited supply cuz, by golly, everywhere in Tempe and the whole area, sprinklers, hoses and car washes (for example) spew prodigious, profligate exudations of dihydrogen monoxide molecules. No end in sight. Even the restaurants on the strip adjacent to Arizona State University (P. F. Chang's, Chili's, Pizzeria Uno) mist the customers foolish and daring enough to eat outside in a constant cool spray of water. This in the Sonoran Desert heat sink, recipient of an average of 8 inches of rain a year.
The above happy shack is my future home, starting around the end of July.
There's a way in which a single image encapsulates the strangeness of Tempe, at least in some measure. Check it out. If you dare. (To be fair, the image encapsulates the strangeness of Jazz Studies programs all over this great nation of ours as well).
Meanwhile, back here in quaint Santa Fe, Duology Two is set for July 6, featuring duets with Carlos Santistevan, bass; Milton Villarrubia III, drums; J A Deane, live samples; Molly Sturges, voice; Jennifer Lowe, language; Ross Hamlin, guitar. Chris Jonas' Rrake ensemble is getting geared up again; I'm one of two drummers in that one, along with Milton. Apparently we are being joined by sound artist, violinist and Harry Partch scholar David Dunn this time around. (I had the pleasure of teaching David's daughter in a class at Desert Academy here, before I was aware of who Dunn was; I used to play music and have the students free write. Once I chose Partch's The Dreamer That Remains, and Dunn's daughter rolled her eyes and said "My dad is on there. He's the one yelling "help!")