Puddle at Sam's Point, Catskills, NY

Brooklyn decay

more after the JUMP!

Tom Petty at Beacon Theater, NYC

Themes of starting anew stood out most of all among the songs Tom Petty played on last night. I am finding affirmation of my plans all over. Basically, Tom Petty is a badass and that's all I'm going to say about that. The Beacon is a trip of a venue with lots of original art deco decor and ginormous gilt statues.
















More after the JUMP!

Isherwood's erotic athletes

    "They are passing the tennis courts at this moment. Only one court is occupied, by two young men playing singles. The sun has come out with sudden fierce heat through the smog-haze, and the two are stripped nearly naked. They have nothing on their bodies but gym shoes and thick sweatsocks and knit shorts of the kind cyclists wear, very short and close-fitting, molding themselves to the buttocks and the loins. They are absolutely unaware of the passers-by, isolated in the intentness of their game. you would think there was no net between them. Their nakedness makes them seem close to each other and directly opposed, body to body, like fighters. If this were a fight, though, it would be one-sided, for the boy on the left is much the smaller. He is Mexican, maybe, black-haired, handsome, catlike, cruel, compact, lithe, uscular, quick and graceful on his feet. He body is a natural dark gold-brown; there is a fuzz of curly black hair on his chest and belly and thighs. He plays hard and fast, with cruel mastery, baring his white teeth, unsmiling, as he slams back the ball. He is going to win. His opponent, the big blond boy, already knows this; there is a touching gallantry in his defense. He is so sweet-naturedly beautiful, so nobly made; and yet his classical cream-marble body seems a handicap to him. The rules of the game inhibit it from functioning. He is fighting at a hopeless disadvantage. He should throw away his useless racket, vault over the net, and force the cruel golden cat to submit to his marble strength. No, on the contrary, the blond boy accepts the rules, binds himself by them, will suffer defeat and humiliation rather than break them. His helpless bigness and blondness give him an air of unmodern chivalry. He will fight clean, a perfect sportsman, until he has lost the last game. And won't this keep happening to him all through his life? Won't he keep getting himself involved in the wrong kind of game, the kind of game he was never born to play, against an opponent who is quick and clever and merciless?"

Sometimes I feel very much the blond surrounded by clever cats.

A note on spring style

Rooftop push-ups

No matter where you are, you can find a way to amp up your workout. Elevating your legs targets the top of your pecs, effectively lifting the chest muscles and increasing definition. It also increases the weight you are pushing, which blasts the arms. Three or four sets of these to exhaustion (I.e. when you just can't do any more) will hit you like a bench press.

Focus on keeping the body straight through the lower back, butt, and thighs as you push (don't droop like a wet noodle) to engage those core muscles.

Pickle sat by to watch my form.

Sometimes there's not much difference between skate and dance

Kilian Martin: India within from Brett Novak on Vimeo.

Happy rainy Brooklyn Sunday.

                           

More from A Single Man: the dance of the couple

By Christopher Isherwood

   "Think of two people, living together day after day, year after year, in this small space, standing elbow to elbow cooking at the same small stove, squeezing past each other on the narrow stairs, shaving in front of the same small bathroom mirror, constantly jogging, jostling, bumping against each other's bodies by mistake or on purpose, sensually, aggressively, awkwardly, impatiently, in rage or in love--think what deep though invisible tracks they must leave, everywhere, behind them! The doorway into the kitchen has been built too narrow. Two people in a hurry, with plates of food in their hands, are apt to keep colliding here. And it is here, nearly every morning, that George, having reached the bottom of the stairs, has this sensation of suddenly finding himself on an abrupt, brutally broken off, jagged edge--as though the track had disappeared down a landslide. It is here that he stops short and knows, with a sick newness, almost as though it were for the first time: Jim is dead. Is dead"(p.13).

It is incredible the way our movements will adapt to those of another once our spaces must be shared. I almost miss this dance.

Music is Wholesome

What better way to spend a Friday night than with some paper-plate cuisine and rock-n-roll courtesy of The Flaming Lips and Yeah Yeah Yeahs? Even better if you find a sweet date to take you, like I did. At Brooklyn's Great Googa Mooga food festival, now through Sunday in Prospect Park. http://brooklyn.googamooga.com/

Just begun: A Single Man

by Christopher Isherwood

   "Staring and staring into the mirror, it sees many faces within its face--the face of the child, the boy, the young man, the not-so-young man--all present still, preserved like fossils on superimposed layers, and, like fossils, dead. Their message to this live dying creature is: Look at us--we have died--what is there to be afraid of?

   It answers them: But that happened so gradually, so easily. I'm afraid of being rushed.

   It stares and stares. Its lips part. It starts to breathe through its mouth. Until the cortex orders it impatiently to wash, to shave, to brush its hair. Its nakedness has to be covered. It must be dressed up in clothes because it is going outside, into the world of the other people; and these others must be able to identify it. Its behavior must be acceptable to them.

   Obediently, it washes, shaves, brushes its hair, for it accepts its responsibility to the others. It is even glad that it has its place among them. It knows what is expected of it.

   It knows its name. It is called George"(p.11).

Sometimes I avoid the mirror to avoid the disappointment in the other faces waiting there.

Brooklyn, New York Harbor run along Belt Parkway Promenade

Create Maps or search from 80 million at MapMyRun

Easiest place to start is Owl's Head Park in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. Head toward the water and you'll find a bike and pedestrian path that leads down to a pedestrian jetty and a wonderfully wide running path right along the water's edge, looking over to Staten Island and the Verizano Bridge.

Run distance is variable depending on the pedestrian overpass you choose to cross back over to shore road, which is a pretty specific slice of Bay Ridge realness.

Visitation Locations

Rochest, NY
Mad River Valley, VT
Boston, MA
Ithaca, NY
Delaware Water Gap, PA
Indianapolis, IN
Chicago, IL
Anne Arbor, MI
Aspen, CO
Moab, UT
Salt Lake City, UT
Pendleton, OR
Seattle, WA
Portland, OR

These Are My Intentions!

Just to make them clear:

1. Move out of New York City by the end of June
2. Throw a party in my apartment for my friends, giving away the things they wish to take with them
3. Travel (drive) in a circuitous circuit around the United States
4. Stay with friends, acquaintances, connections, and any others who will have me
5. Explore and write about the sites that are enriching in their area for this website
6. Finish writing and then publish the novel Seven Brothers
7. Publish short stories along the way to doing that
8. Show my dog, Pickle, a good time
9. Live an adventure
10. Find a place that I wish to ultimately call home

Badass Endurance Challenge Goals

During my time on the road, I will complete the following endurance races (with style and aplomb, of course):

Half-Marathon
Tough Mudder
Spartan Race
Marathon
Olympic Distance Triathlon
Half-Ironman

TEST TEST TEST

This is only a test of the Loner Broadcast Network.