“For a lengthy period, what sustained me ON THE BLEACHERS was without doubt the eloquence of those exchanges between regular commentators and the resultant dialogue back and forth. It was oftentimes electric…”
“I just wanted to try something new…”
“I needed a space to promote product without infringing too much on what went before…”
“In my mind I had to divorce the two to an extent. Move on and set concrete parameters.”
in conversation with lifeinalundby
Snakes drawn by, or in the syle of, Pablo Picasso.
LikeLiked by 1 person
New can be good and looking at your new website it was positive 🙌🙌🙌
LikeLiked by 1 person
LikeLiked by 2 people
It’s a continuation of the ghosts thing. A curse, almost, if I have any old gypsy blood in me and a bend towards the superstitious. The bleachers were all but closed long before they fell into disrepair. The ghost train ran its course. People I still genuinely love simply stopped. Visiting. It was time to move on, but I didn’t get it remotely right second time around. Almost hosed the bleachers down the drain in the process. I took a wrong turn and refused to pay serious cash enough to maintain the space. A garage stripped of all assets. A mausoleum is right. Anyway, you know all this. DNS resets and verification rituals. Made my head bleed, but here she is back. The way she looked when I finally walked out on her, maybe, behind glass in the final analysis perhaps, sitting behind a partition in an art class, not a museum, chairs and easels arranged around the subject in a circle. I too yearn for the old electric. I did my best by her, but maybe my best was not good enough. I was reading your email while writing this, and I didn’t or couldn’t replicate the same redirect error, but the “deafening echoes are [definitely] frightening.” Well. Hashtag grotesque after the gramme. Dude, I have to stop listening to George Jones. Among the dub, the new stuff, and old class sicks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your original comment was so eloquent in itself that it has haunted me for days now. That heavy silence of a museum after hours, or the memory of a seance on a miserably wet afternoon. I miss (curating) the music, but those DMCA takedown notices and Blogger’s constant resetting to draft jammed a nail in the works. In addition, there were too many memories associated with the original SibLINGSHOT ON THE BLEACHERS. It was its own weight.
LikeLike
Thank you for the comment, N0. I have an itch which can’t be scratched.
LikeLike
Should anyone else encounter any strange or inexplicable behaviours, redirects, etc, while navigating back pages in the legacy edition, please let me know by leaving a comment here and I’ll do my best to address it. As of now, all areas of the domain are seemingly accessible to me, but analytics is not functioning as it should.
LikeLike