Ten years time
Just a thought from 30 April 2003 about Songs.

Ten years ago, if you'd asked me what I was, my answer would have been "songwriter." This was before the internet had given me the confidence to tell my stories. Before the web even existed. Back when the most pressing thing in my life was picking up the pieces of my heart that kept spilling across the floor.

I wrote songs. From my teenage years through college. I played in cafes and for friends. I put out demo tapes. I poured myself into six strings and a microphone. I could hold my fingertips over candles without feeling a thing, the calluses were so thick.

Then, in 1995, the web happened. And as I put more and more of my creativity into the computer, less and less of it went into my songs. Until finally, I put away the guitar for good.

There was never a defining moment. No special decision. No epiphany. I just kinda stopped.

And that was it. My guitar collected dust, the piles of tapes and hundreds of songs sat dormant. I guarded my music like a guilty secret.

But every once in a while, when I was alone in the house, I'd still pull out that guitar and play long enough to remember the joy of it. To let myself go just a little bit, open up, and sing.

The other day I was playing a song. It's called "A Face Among The Rest" and I wrote it for a girl. Truth is, every song I've ever written has been for a girl. But this girl was the first one I ever thought I'd spend the rest of my life with.

See, this is what songs are for. I can write "I thought we'd be together forever" but it just reads trite. This is what the age of irony has given us. But, man, sing it just right, with the right sound behind it, and it can still send chills.

And halfway through the song there's this line:

"I bet you'll find that in ten years time
I won't even cross through your mind."

And then it hit me. I wrote this song in almost ten years ago. Ten fucking years.

When I wrote the song, ten years seemed like an amazing amount of time. And now here it is. Ten years time. And while this would ordinarily send me on the cliched "What a drag it is getting old" trip, instead, this time, I felt liberated. As if the statute of limitations had suddenly run out, and I'd gotten off scott free.

So, if you can keep a secret, I'd like to give you something. It's me, ten years ago, singing this song. It's a thank you gift. For reading, for listening, for just being here with me, ten years later.

MP3: 3.1mb: Powazek-FaceAmongTheRest.mp3

Feel me
Just a thought from 29 April 2003 about .

Happy Birthday, baby.

Pinhead for a day
Just a thought from 27 April 2003 about .

That's me and a few new friends on Ocean Beach participating in Worldwide Pinhole Photography Day.

Fray is you
Just a thought from 24 April 2003 about .

Ever wanted to throw a Fray Day in your home town? Well, now's your chance!

Incoming N Judah
Just a thought from 21 April 2003 about .

Underground at Powell Station with my Mystery Woman.

Ten shots for Rannie
Just a thought from 21 April 2003 about .

My contribution to the third installment of Rannie's 300 Exposures project is up. Come for an underground ride with me.

Almost birthday boy
Just a thought from 19 April 2003 about .

I have less than a month until the big three-oh. You can soften the blow by engaging in rampant consumerism on my behalf. Thanks.

Reflected
Just a thought from 17 April 2003 about .

That guy needs a haircut.

Powischewitz
Just a thought from 16 April 2003 about .

Looks like it's that time of year again.

The Moby Project
Just a thought from 15 April 2003 about .

Congratulations to my sweetie on her early birthday present: Moby in the Mirror Project! I'm just glad I didn't have to shave my head and submit under a pseudonym....

Mark Morford for President
Just a thought from 9 April 2003 about .

Hippie Crap Saves The World / Can better orgasms and upping your personal vibe really thwart BushCo idiocy?

Here is the gist: The world consists of energy, billions of swirling masses of it contained in living vessels -- that's you -- and aimed out to the world, often radiating at random, intermingling, interacting, often uncontrolled and unaware, an enormous dizzying gorgeous complex kaleidoscopic organism of human interaction and interplay. We are abuzz. We are electric. We possess actual psychic and electromagnetic force. Duh. It's a fact.

Boths sides now
Just a thought from 8 April 2003 about .

Two years ago, when {fray} was nominated for three Webbies, it was ... trying. That's why, this year, I'm happy to be on the other side of the process.

I was a nominating judge in the Community category for the Webbies this year. And I'm proud of the group we came up with. Of the sites I really wanted to see listed there, a few made it and a few didn't. It's a group process, after all. But on the whole, it's a good set of nominees, and I'm proud to have participated in the process.

And the kicker? The dayjob has been nominated in the Print & Zines category. Woo hoo!

Internet killed the Radiohead
Just a thought from 8 April 2003 about .

Radiohead is a band that usually "gets it" when in comes to this web business. That's why the strum and drang over their new album appearing in mp3s around the net a little early is so baffling.

The same thing happened with their last two releases, too. Only this time, the mp3s making the rounds are unfinished versions of the songs. Hey, I've done some recording, I get why that would be annoying. But, really. This only means all the slobbering downloaders will be way more likely to buy the album and then compare notes on what was changed and speculate on why.

This is a fan's wet dream! If Radiohead was smart, they'd exploit this. Web features on their recording process. A behind the scenes DVD. Bring the fans into the studio and they'll reward you with a number one album on the charts - just like last time.

Worlds collide!
Just a thought from 2 April 2003 about Clips.

Bookends has made the jump from the labor of love to the dayjob.

As seen by cousin Josh, age 6
Just a thought from 1 April 2003 about .

Email fron Uncle Al:

Josh was doing some art projects last night and decided to draw a picture of you. Guess you made an impression. I said I would email you a copy.

Josh is my new favorite cousin.