Despite the [ahem, cough] hiatus between 2015 postings, the reigning Queenie of Quelpville has not been dethroned. Not even voted off the island (not yet at least). Just, well, giddily consumed with life, music work, love, and admittedly, the immediate gratification of two-way, real-time-or-nearly interaction with thousands of people on that social media spot that involves lots of faces and not nearly enough books.
Deja vu-finder: a fox enjoys 15 minutes of fame on Facebook.
My cameras remain within reach at almost all times, and you can peruse some of the watery, wild, and occasionally weird results on that aforementioned page and within the photo albums to which it links. Like WiFi in a friendly coffee shop, I have an open door policy, and offer a reliable connection to the public (whether two-legged or four-pawed).
We have an open door policy at home. The foxes often take advantage of it, and it’s fun to photograph Dan photographing our visitors.
A leisurely, loooooong scroll down the AlexWorld website will solve any mysteries as to what’s kept me either tethered to my composing desk or seated in airplanes and board rooms this past year, and the fun is destined to continue onward through 2016. As will this blog, my love letter to the beauty around me, which began January 2006. I ain’t stopping now.
Don’t you dare stop. I’m always ready for my close up!
I mean it.
This sizable collection of essays and observations is my ongoing virtual coffee table book, with the multimedia bonus of giving you something from inside my head to hear, while you see what my eyes saw, and read what I think about the whole shebang. Granted, Facebook (for now) and any engagement-driven social media sites of the future, offer a sense of tribal community to a greater degree than the formality of comments on a blog like this one. The latter, however, is a better space in which to share a more developed story line, and for this reason I intend to keep these pixels burning. Composing my thoughts on this tiny spot amid the bustle of the inter-tubes is much like composing a piece of music with rhythms, themes, and a sense of purpose.
The tribe awaits. Impatiently. If I do not provide bugs, I have no purpose.
Looking back to random posts from the past decade, I’m struck by how current most of them remain. Entertaining, even. The timelessness of squishy things rather than weekly politics and news (squishy in their own less attractive ways), has long-term benefits when it comes to relevance. Like the nearly 200 pieces in my catalog, there are none of which I’m not proud. That’s ‘cos I know where the delete button is. I’ve never 86’ed a post. Writing music, however, is a far more murderous occupation. The gum eraser that rests on my piano has gotten about as much use as the mechanical pencil next to it. As with most of life, knowing what you don’t need in a piece is as important as knowing what to keep. Probably more so.
Eagle on a mission: a salmon is soon to be deleted.
Failing sheer obliteration, change is usually a very good thing. After all these years, I’m going to search for a new layout for Notes from the Kelp; the current 400 pixel confines are just too limited for the sights I catch in my lens these days. Yup, that’s been another attraction to social media: the photos can be larger! And so many of my larger-than-life experiences deserve to be shared in a way that can at least attempt to offer Kelphistos some sense of the the scope.
This view from the boat cabin should be seen larger!
These unlucky Dungeness crabs should be seen larger!
The trusty crew of my vessel should be seen larger!
Ok, maybe you don’t need to see my plastic dino collection any larger than it is. They do make excellent– and buoyant– company on any voyage, though.
And so, 2015 comes to a close, while much in this life feels as though it’s endlessly, beautifully, opening. Cheers!
Looking forward, to beauty!