THE BOOKS
Bright and organic.The jazz night on Tuesday's at Mojo's Bicycle Cafe at 639 Divisadero is a strong massage. The whole affair touches all the tight spots. You leave feeling creamy and loose.
I've attended a few of these now, the first time a melodious happenstance. The staff, all second-career post-bohemians, walks around with candles and turns down the lights. They home-make sangria and drink most of it themselves. Their friends come and the band plays a few sets. A disproportion of attractive Asian women arrive wearing things like foxtails that, allegedly, "everyone in the Midwest has." It's peaceful conduit.
That candlelight is perfect for scribbling. I'll end up with a range of nonsense, salient observations and strange rhymes and unfunny comics all sharing the page. The ceiling is so low, I noted. The keyboardist's right hand seems spectacular, I observed. I could not love a girl with dreadlocks, I thought.
I want to share an unblocking technique. When I can't think of what to write I think of an uncommon first name and an action. Then I string them together and call their union a sentence. I rinse and repeat until I think of something else to write or my hand gets tired—either way the page fills up. Here's what I unblocked with last jazz night:
After that came out, the night became easier. I wrote some lyrics that included the line: "For the hundred thousandth time/you have monster truck eyes/don't blame me for intelligent design."
I sneezed more than ten times writing this.
I've attended a few of these now, the first time a melodious happenstance. The staff, all second-career post-bohemians, walks around with candles and turns down the lights. They home-make sangria and drink most of it themselves. Their friends come and the band plays a few sets. A disproportion of attractive Asian women arrive wearing things like foxtails that, allegedly, "everyone in the Midwest has." It's peaceful conduit.
That candlelight is perfect for scribbling. I'll end up with a range of nonsense, salient observations and strange rhymes and unfunny comics all sharing the page. The ceiling is so low, I noted. The keyboardist's right hand seems spectacular, I observed. I could not love a girl with dreadlocks, I thought.
I want to share an unblocking technique. When I can't think of what to write I think of an uncommon first name and an action. Then I string them together and call their union a sentence. I rinse and repeat until I think of something else to write or my hand gets tired—either way the page fills up. Here's what I unblocked with last jazz night:
Jasmine hoped I would come too. Langdon wore the dessert all the way home in Roberto's new ride. Caspian waits on the shelf while Jaime wishes Caravalho wellness and prosperity. Davenport has another. Sybil can't take her eyes off Wanda's neck brace, on which Regan excerpted the Declaration of Independence.
After that came out, the night became easier. I wrote some lyrics that included the line: "For the hundred thousandth time/you have monster truck eyes/don't blame me for intelligent design."
I sneezed more than ten times writing this.
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Jazz Night was great. I might make it my weekly let's-be-artistic night. The environment is awesome. Good recommendation!
ReplyDelete-Tyler