I should doodle more.

Someday I’d like to travel to Bologna to visit Niccolò dell'Arca’s Lamentation (1463). Even in a photo of it, you can hear the bottomless shock of grief.

Ventriloquism began as a religious practice. The word comes from Latin for “speak from the stomach”: venter (belly) and loqui (speak).

The ancients believed the sounds produced by the belly belonged to the dead—so who’s to say what’s spiritual today?

This is a time of dirty tans and mint greens and dead blues.

Yes! “Fang” has been in near-constant rotation for . . . oof, twelve years?!

Been revisiting a lot of @feltelabel.bsky.social artists lately. We have the same taste for postpunk. ERAAS is a favorite on Felte.
youtu.be/mxGhF3Kg4xc?...

I love this album so much.

A Chromatics megamix so glossy it’s nearly lacquered—plus notes on the Mariana Trench and unbearable weather. Here’s a sleek hyperlink. And a podcast thingy.

Fiction surrounds us, but where are our myths?

My threshold is 70°F / 21°C.

Hot coffee season has finally come to the Middle West.

Revelations and mental rearrangements always seem to occur when I’m not paying attention.

Distant traffic shushing through the rain might be one of the most soothing, even spiritual sounds I know.

The same goes for a radio talking about light drizzle at the airport.

Okay yes . . . the new Tikiman album kicks.

Waffle House. A stranger with my mom’s eyes. The lights of Do Lung Bridge in Apocalypse Now. The Electrifying Mojo. Chrome. Chromatics. Broken screens. Origen. Heat lightning. Season two of The Leftovers. Plotinus. The rose in The Little Prince saying “Let the tigers come with their claws.”

Aural destabilization. Kōbō Abe’s The Woman in the Dunes. William James and the educational variety of religious experience. Bohren and Der Club of Gore. Neoplatonism. Varvara Stepanova. The Salton Sea. Bombay Beach. Endless rain. Hubert Robert’s ruins. Static. Rumble strips and tollbooths. Mahjong.

Yep . . . One Battle After Another rolls heavy and absolutely rips.

A Chromatics megamix so glossy it’s nearly lacquered—plus notes on the Mariana Trench and unbearable weather. Here’s a sleek hyperlink. And a podcast thingy.

Aw thanks for reading amidst the lunacy.

Rounded corners for sharp times.

Portrait of my September 2025 experience.

Look, I’m saying stuff about stuff, specifically the Francis Bacon at the Detroit Art Institute. I’m pointing out the point in the work at which the catastrophe begins. I’m with Scott Ellis, Charla Ferguson, Candy Chang, and jamesreeves.co took the picture.

We are losing the ancient knowledge.

Right on, thanks for listening!