I generally think of every single aspect of my life as its own discrete cycle. Everything from the banality of work scheduling and train schedules down to keeping track of which people ride the same train car as me and at what rate they cycle their outfits. At my most metaphysically lucid, I can almost see myself as a walking set of billions of ephemeral perambulations consisting of every relationship I have to animal, vegetable, mineral, or ideology. I think most people would find this a touch obsessive, and there are times that I would agree with them, but I view it in another way that, while definitely more dark, tends to take on more of a philosophical bent. Jean Baudrillard, the great French semiologist/philosopher, take a similar stance in view of the human need to collect. He says that we collect things in a series (the people that do collect things, and most musically minded people are like this in my experience) to rehearse completion. In other words, we collect a series to either complete it and thus rehearse the only thing in our life which is absolutely a positivity....its end, or we collect a series to prove to ourselves that there is always something else, thus giving ourselves a false sense of immortality. Now, as a firm believer in reincarnation, I don't really see how it would be any different with my lust for cyclical tabulation. I watch the cycles of my life, or enforce a subconscious cycle on things to rehearse or deny the end of my existence in this form, depending on the situation. That's the way I justify the amount of energy that goes into these exercises at least.
Now, that has nothing to do with the meat of this email, which is this story I'm about to relate, but I think you need the background to understand why such a seemingly banal occurrence could be so incredible to me. One of the cycles that I pay close attention to, because I experience it almost every day consists of my walk from the PATH train at World Trade Center to my office on Broad Street. I always take the same set of streets (are you really surprised by that?), and they cycle consists mostly of a set of people, a series of thoughts, and generally a group of a/b psychic switches. It is basically a binary cycle...."at this news kiosk there will be the old black man yelling at the younger Middle Eastern man...or not"...."the blond woman that always wears tweed jackets will cut through Trinity church....or she will continue straight"...."I will have the urge to buy a coffee at the Wall Street deli....or I will not think about it". One part of the cycle is always the same though and it has always kind of bothered me. On the corner of Broadway and William Street there is a Travelex office, a place where they do currency exchange. As I walk up William, I pass by their office on the left and at the last cubicle on the Broadway side there is a woman. I have never actually seen this woman, so I don't know if she is young or old, beautiful or homely, radiant or dull. All I have ever seen, in fact, is the part in her hair as she hunches over her desk, working on her computer. Every day, I see this part. I have wanted it to change, somehow, looking for small discrepancies in the slightly off center nature of the part, but it always remains the same. There was a period of time when I thought perhaps she was a mannequin, seated there as part of an elaborate scheme for Travelex to pay a seperate salary. That is insane, obviously. Today, a day that has forever rocked my "going to work cycle" by its ever loving foundations, I walked up William Street, hoping perhaps she would be wearing a beret, or would have gotten a hair cut. But, as I turned eyes left to take in the part, my darling Travelex worker had not only finally looked up from her computer, but was standing behind her desk.....dancing. I don't know why she was dancing. I've been in Travelex and it is not that exciting a place, nor have I ever heard any dance worthy music (or any music at all) played in a Travelex, but there she was, exploding a small part of a small part of my perambulations. I was in shock. I stopped on the sidewalk and watched her dance. Finally, inevitably, she looked out the window at the beardo in the army jacket. I was using all of my Scandinavian power of self control, but I couldn't help it and danced a little with her. Nothing big, a few white boy steps, the best I could do in my bulky jacket and glittens. She smiled and sat down. Now I have to come to grips with the fact that there is a possibility of something more in this cycle. Was this just an aberration, or can I at least count on my Travelex buddy for a new binary....."Travelex girl sits in front of computer showing only the part in her hair.....or busts a wicked move". I"m hoping for the latter.
Enough of that, lots of super fun gigs this week.
Come out, let me add you as a part of my spinning spinning spinning:
Tuesday January 12
Issue Project Room
232 3rd Brooklyn
Bram Stadhouders-solo guitar from the Netherlands
Heave and Shudder (Audrey Chen/Nate Wooley) with Gil Arno (video)
Kenta Nagai-solo something (you never know with Kenta, always good though)
Wednesday January 13
Abrons Art Center
466 Grand StreetManhattan
FONT's 4 night festival (this is the first night, you should check the schedule, looks pretty rocking)
I'll be playing the piece "Rugby" with John Zorn
Friday January 15
168 7th Street
Telluric Currents Series, curated by Jeremiah Cymerman
Dafna Naphtali/Chuck Bettis
Nate Wooley (solo)
Alexander Waterman/Ryan Sawyer (woohoo)/Zach Layton
thanks, see you soon! Nate