To the few folks who’ve been visiting lately, a big thank you. Any eyes on the page are a motivation to churn out wore words. I’m going to be focusing on bringing more regular content to the site. I hesitate to put a formal schedule to it, as the day job still holds a grip on the majority of my time, but my goal is to bring updates to you every Monday-Wednesday-Friday. The format is still really being defined, the little stylistic tics still being hunted down and corrected. I’m also daydreaming about expanding the content to other writers down the road, potentially syndicating some things written by folks I know.
If you are so inclined, I’m always looking to expand my roster of logos. At the moment, I culled the backgrounds for my logo from an assortment of my own photography and am always looking for more. I’m going to create a page to host the full photographs of the ones submitted by readers with link backs and joyous thanks. If you’d like to submit one, please feel free to EMAIL them to me and I’ll add them to the rotating roster. The final image format will be 336×336 with the TTM logo over the top half of the image, so the abstract stuff seems to work best.
If you happen to be a fantastical designer who’d like to work me up a logo, that’s also awesome. Feel free to EMAIL me as well, you imaginary internet designer person.
I’ll leave you with a song:
The Books – Smells Like Content
(from 2005′s Lost and Safe)
LISTEN
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This song, for me, embodies a rainy Chicago day. The bulk of my last days in that city were wrapped in a bizzare cloud of confusion and potential that this song embodies. The skittering percussion and enveloping fragments of guitar feel much like the overarching feeling that permeated my last year in Chicago. I was gripped by a burden of of being simultaneously connected and fundamentally disconnected to the world, so much that I abandoned most every venture. The seeds of my drive and ability to write were hidden away in a long long winter, buried in an abstract comfort with the place I’d stuck myself. It’s a beautiful song none the less; efficiently encapsulating in a way that few other songs have, the calm that comes from recognizing the both the futility and beauty in life.
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