tatearchives

[tatearchives]

I made a video journal of 2024.

[tatearchives]

I went up north the other day to give David the carving I made for him, and to see the new Almodóvar film at the Center for Contemporary Arts with James. David did a haphazard installation of the piece (pictured above) and it was so nice seeing it in his home.

David lives on the plaza, so we set out on foot with the goal of hitting three different museums and galleries. It was really cold and even the water from the drain pipes was frozen. We saw my friends’ work who are all in a show together, a group show I also applied for but got rejected from. We got distracted and didn’t end up going to the museums, but we did eat at a Japanese restaurant where we were the only two guests.

The Almodóvar movie was beautiful. James and I talked a lot about it on the car ride back from the theater. That’s my absolute favorite thing about seeing a movie with a friend. You must either drive back from the theater together or get coffee or take ten in the parking lot at the very least (not ideal but will do in a pinch). Otherwise what’s the point? You may as well see a movie alone.

Driving home is one of my favorite parts of visiting up north. Especially at night, when the roads are emptier and you can see all the stars out of your window. One hour and fifteen minutes of what is, to me, meditation. There’s not a lot in between the two cities, so it’s totally dark around you. A lot of people from my city don’t like making the trip up there because of the drive; but I love any excuse to be in the car, driving by myself for that long. It forces me to be still.

On the drive up I had listened to Dvořák’s 9th. You can tell a lot of movie score composers have been inspired by it. You can hear some Jaws and even some Lord of the Rings and something else I recognize but can’t place. But on the way back I listened to Rach’s 2nd symphony because its melancholy is unreserved and has little grandeur, which is better for a contemplative night drive. I’ve been really only able to listen to classical music lately. I find lyrics too unrelatable and for some reason irritating right now. I love jazz, but right now it feels like classical music is the only genre that allows me to feel my current range of emotions, which lately is vast and implacable. Maybe I will move on soon. Maybe it will last a while.

[tatearchives]

My first “blog” post. Kate and I were talking about how blogging should be in for 2025, and more importantly, with a sense of reckless abandon. I like this medium and see it as a sort of online archive. This may evolve into some more specific format over time, but organically—and for now, I’m just stepping out onto the proverbial train platform of blogging with little vision and a sense of earnestness.

These photos are from my recent walk by the river with Frankie, who is not pictured, but runs around freely. She in the most loyal dog I have ever known, and won’t let me out of her sight for more than a moment. I never worry about her.

We first stopped by the duck pond before making our way to the river. For the first time this winter it was mostly frozen over, but the ducks still remained.

I listened to Rachmaninov’s 3rd symphony as we ambled along the river, which was ice only at the shore. I have been fixated on this work lately. Most recently I was obsessed with Rach’s 3rd piano concerto. Before that it was Mahler 5. I thought Mahler 5 was my favorite symphony of all time until I discovered Rach 3. Something about it feels inexplicably magical. It was nice to hear it in a new setting.

On our walk we bumped into two old men. They had thrown their walking sticks down and were fixated on the tree above. They were excited to tell me that there was a porcupine up there, and that it was a special sighting because it was awake and eating. They also told me that last week they followed the river farther north and saw 17 total, which is now their personal record.

They were really the only people we saw out there. In the winter people stop going down to the river. It’s colder there, and everything dies. We don’t have evergreens, so the landscape turns brittle and becomes drained of all its color. I like going year round, and watching the incremental changes as they come. It makes me feel a part of it.

[tatearchives]

More archival footage from my teenage years. Big Sur was a crucial part of my adolescence…

I made this video. I’ll be your best friend if you watch it.

[tatearchives]

Archival footage from my teenage years

Went up to Big Sur with my sister and took some video.