Photograph from May 12, 2012 Chicago performance taken by Mark Dawursk.

I remember when I decided to throw all my paintings away. They had moved house with me a couple times, and one day, when I was again confronted with taking them to yet another location, I seriously questioned why I needed to have them.

When I made them, I may have been saying something, yet I couldn’t be sure what exactly that was. Looking at them, I asked what they might currently say to me, and all I could come up with was, “This is what once was.”

So, I threw them away, thankful that they weren’t tattoos.

A man who played trumpet for his church on Sundays got ill and discovered that he had one year to live. He figured this meant about 6 good months, and promptly quit his job, put his affairs in order, and began the task of organizing 6 months worth of continuous trumpet concerts. Some were at churches, schools, and even bars. Anywhere that would have him, really.

He would ask the organizers to invite as many local trumpet players as possible. When he arrived at each venue, he would ask for help in hauling in the massive PA from his truck, which perplexed everyone as to why this was needed. After an awkward set up and rehearsal, everyone involved, including whatever audience showed up, would witness the high volume blast of 30 -40 pre-recorded trumpets radiating through the PA, while a couple of locals contributed nervously, having little idea of what they were doing, or why. The man would play some too, but mostly would sing, scream, and cry, which was also barely audible through the din. No one seemed to understand why this was happening, but for the man, it was simply his way of giving thanks to God for everything.

For those that missed the London performance in person, here’s a part of it – the live audio recording from that night. Of course, what you hear from the microphones is not necessarily what you would have heard in the room, or how you heard it, and at the volume you would have heard it. Also missing are the visual elements of movement and interaction with the instrument that over time become another layer just as each sound heard and analyzed.

That said, the recording was handled by John Chantler very well, and captures one perspective of the growing density pretty nicely. Thanks to him and all at Cafe OTO on this night for such a memorable event.

Having just returned from shows in the United Kingdom, I’m still thinking about the experiences and people I met, each of which shaped not only the moment, but some things about how I think going forward. One of these things is featured as the current post within The Shelf.

From a performance standpoint, an interesting thing occurred in that I found an intense relationship between my own experience with the performance and some of those within the audience that viewed it. I haven’t experienced this relationship as strongly before anywhere else. Based on words exchanged, it was as if the experience was in some ways very similar, even though much of what I experience is influenced by the physical act itself, it somehow translated.

Is it the UK? Is it me? While the answers to those questions aren’t as important as the fact that something seemed to progress with the work, I still find them interesting. This experience has given me hope in some regards, and has changed some of my thoughts not only about this particular piece/performance, but what elements to pursue in my future work.

Thanks be to John Chantler, David Birchall, Andrew Cheetham, and Alastair Cameron for making this situation possible.

And it was great to share some of the bills with Paul Gough, aka Pimmon, whom I’ve listened to for many years. A truly great guy who adds a good deal of humanity to laptop music. It was also an honor to play at Cafe OTO, which is already near legendary in its early life, St. Margaret’s Church (pictured above), and the fantastic Arnolfini in Bristol – a city I will hopefully have a chance to spend some more time with in the future.

Two girls in their early teens sat at a bus stop – a long bench covered by a roof and clear plastic walls with a garbage bin at one end. No one else was sitting on the bench. Both girls had ice cream bars, and as one of them opened hers, she quickly took the wrapper and dropped it on the ground under the bench as if to hide it. The other girl held her wrapper while she ate.

Soon, an old man in slightly shabby clothes came and sat down on the bench about 4 feet from them. Almost immediately, the two girls got up from their seat, and walked down toward the garbage bin, away from the old man. The girl who held onto her wrapper threw it away in the bin. The other girl’s wrapper still laid on the ground under the bench near where they sat.

The old man gave them a glance a few times, almost seeming as if he wanted to catch their eye, to let them know he was aware that they moved away from him on purpose.

What Will You Do? is a Death Blues text and image piece that was created for a project by Kate Mytty which deals with the ‘finding of humanity.’

Click here to view Death Blues: What Will You Do?