these endless numbered days

Photo

Sat, 07 May 2011 02:55:00 -0400

Teamwork

Mon, 14 Mar 2011 00:58:48 -0400

Collaborations by Bryanjack

Suburbs - Arcade Fire cover w/ Olga by Bryanjack Added a...

Mon, 14 Mar 2011 00:50:00 -0400

Suburbs - Arcade Fire cover w/ Olga by Bryanjack

Added a vocals and some guitar sounds to a track Olga and I have been putting together at school.

Here’s the basic track (piano, ukulele & vocals) we started with: The Suburbs - Arcade Fire Cover by olgamariaa

Add your own voice, or instrument to the proceedings by uploading an mp3 to my dropbox: Bryanjack

durdenjack: the brightest burn out too early; you’d be 89...

Mon, 14 Mar 2011 00:47:31 -0400

durdenjack:

the brightest burn out too early; you’d be 89 today.

My sister saw this poem scrawled on a wall in Saskatoon in the...

Tue, 22 Feb 2011 00:58:03 -0500

My sister saw this poem scrawled on a wall in Saskatoon in the summer of 2010, and shared it with us when she got back. I copied it down and carried it around in a journal for a few months before turning it into this song.

flotsom and jetsom: you do you...

Fri, 11 Feb 2011 21:45:05 -0500

flotsom and jetsom: you do you...:

For as long as I can remember I have had an unstoppable imagination. I could spend hours occupying myself with games of escapism no matter where I was, and I never had trouble turning a cardboard box into a spaceship (come to think of it, I still pretend that my Volkswagon can fly). As I got…

Words from the sister down south.

Reworking of the ee cummings cover.

Sun, 30 Jan 2011 20:10:35 -0500

Reworking of the ee cummings cover.

Accompanied by the Deep Dark Woods’ “All the Money I...

Sun, 30 Jan 2011 19:59:37 -0500

Accompanied by the Deep Dark Woods’ “All the Money I Had is Gone.”

Cover of Josh Ritter’s “Good Man” with...

Sun, 30 Jan 2011 14:12:31 -0500

Cover of Josh Ritter’s “Good Man” with Shushwap Lake lapping at the midnight beach.

I know that John McCain will do that and I, as his vice...

Wed, 19 Jan 2011 01:38:13 -0500

I know that John McCain will do that and I, as his vice president, families we are blessed with that vote of the American people and are elected to serve and are sworn in on January 20, that will be our top priority is to defend the American people.

"When print became established it was used initially very effectively, by traveling, radical..."

Thu, 25 Nov 2010 12:38:57 -0500

“When print became established it was used initially very effectively, by traveling, radical levellers, radical democrats, to try to undermine the power system with their pamphlets and so on. And, in fact, the same’s true of the history of the American Revolution. A lot of radical pamphleteering was a significant fact in supporting some of the more radical democratic elements. And in the case of radio, the same could have been true. Over time, and in the case of radio very quickly, these media were in fact, concentrated in the hands of private power. Radio, quickly, television, instantly. In the case of the Internet, we’re right in the middle of that process.”

- Noam Chomsky

i thank You God for most this amazingday - for the leaping...

Mon, 15 Nov 2010 02:04:00 -0500

i thank You God for most this amazing
day - for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

ee cummings

Fri, 12 Nov 2010 16:44:10 -0500

On the origins of Brandon MacDonald

Fri, 12 Nov 2010 16:31:00 -0500

The morning they left the house vacant for the first time in twenty-three years it rained in horizontal shrouds that bounced on the bulge of pavement covering the cul de sac. The ring of hemlock encircling the street slouched embarrassed at the deluge. Sloping branches began to dance in the coming of an epic wind, turning the palms of leaves pale-side up. My mother washed dishes, up to her elbows in the bubbles clouding the sink and said, “There go the MacDonalds.” Then we stood silently watching.

The two MacDonald girls, who had grown up in the house two doors over from ours, opened their second-floor bedroom windows and stepped carefully onto the slant of the roof above the small lawn. Mr. and Mrs. MacDonald had come out the front door and the garage, and Brandon met them in the driveway, having emerged from behind the holly tree that watched over the entrance to their back gate.

Theirs was a house that had long since seen the overcrowding of their lawn with dandelions; shade had multiplied in the house’s eroding corners, framed with aging trees. Brandon and his parents leaned back and looked up into the rain at the girls, now descending awkwardly toward the brimming gutters. I could see their exposed toes clenching the rough shingles as they grimaced at the sight beyond the edge of the roof. They each lowered their legs above the wet lawn, and were helped to the top of the driveway by their brother. Brandon helped each of his sisters to his shoulders and crouched until they stood on their own. Their father walked them to the car.

I was twelve then and didn’t ask my mother what we were watching. It was the first I noticed of a period in my life when the answers to my passing questions seemed more confusing than not knowing. This was not insomuch as I didn’t understand them, but at the time there seemed to be fewer questions I held in common with anyone, and I grew increasingly into a silent observer of my surroundings. I had begun to wonder if I was witness to the same world as those around me. I hadn’t yet learned, watching the MacDonalds climb from the various orifices of their home, that life could be defined in shared experience.

My mother only shook her head. Mrs. MacDonald had clasped her hands in front of her. Her shoulders shook. Brandon put his arm around her and helped her into the silver SUV. When they disappeared behind the bend in the street and the hedge that rounded it, I could see pale faces in the windows of the neighborhood. No one had missed the MacDonald’s departure, and there are many who I doubt have been able to separate themselves from the memory of that day’s rain and the storm that presided over the afternoon.

Myths are the world’s dreams. They are archetypal dreams...

Fri, 12 Nov 2010 16:17:00 -0500

Myths are the world’s dreams. They are archetypal dreams and deal with great human problems. Myths and dreams come from the same place. They come from realizations of some kind that then have to find expression in symbolic form.

- Joseph Campbell

"What I’m writing about today isn’t sexy. Art is supposed to be effortless. That’s part of the myth,..."

Fri, 12 Nov 2010 15:52:50 -0500

“

What I’m writing about today isn’t sexy. Art is supposed to be effortless. That’s part of the myth, part of the beauty, right? When we appreciate art, isn’t it partly for the experience of seeing something difficult done with grace? Isn’t it a perfect metaphor for how we wish life would be?

Well, to quote one of my favorite authors, Pete Dexter, you don’t need grace to push. And if you want a life doing what you love you’re going to have to decide between grace and grit. Swinging wide the door so that opportunity can waltz in is graceful, but wrestling a blood-hungry, world-champion fighting rooster to the ground is awkward as all hell, and certainly a much closer parallel for the career you should expect.

”

- Josh Ritter

Photo

Fri, 12 Nov 2010 15:45:36 -0500

Video

Fri, 12 Nov 2010 15:36:02 -0500

Photo

Fri, 12 Nov 2010 15:30:42 -0500

"He only earns his freedom and existence who daily conquers them anew."

Fri, 12 Nov 2010 15:28:48 -0500

“He only earns his freedom and existence who daily conquers them anew.”

- Goethe