Knock, Knock, Turn Your Chair.... 2008 is EVERYWHERE

There are 7 hours left before the emergence of 2008, and the year begs for some single serving reflections before its departure…

In brief, I would grade 2007 with a cumulative B average, given that I forced myself to tear apart the upholstery from the last five years and, with some resistance, exertion and upheaval, make some relatively monumental changes that didn’t relate to my wardrobe. Namely, I moved back to the city I love; the city where I plan to spend the rest of my life, and didn’t run even when I was forced out of my soaring loft space in Bushwick and left homeless for nearly a month. I bashed the doors open from relatively complete isolation to invite enough exploits and strange, fascinating people for a six volume novel. I laughed a lot. I started running again. I cleared up my skin. I rediscovered Buddhist meditation without drinking through the disparities. I fell in love. I asked a lot of really dumb questions. I had my picture taken a lot by people I didn't know. I caught myself lying. I wore messenger hats and fingerless black gloves. I burned incense and listened to Eartha Kitt while drinking Ceylon and throwing darts at the ceiling. I got over Adam. I sat in cathedrals during my lunch break and wrote dirty haikus. I worked a lot. I stopped sleeping with strangers. I made my bed (almost) every morning. I smoked Salvia in a park at San Francisco. I went out dancing. I arrived overdressed.

I got back my fucking nerve.

And I am going to own the shit out of 2008.

Love & Other Igniting Endorphins,

T.Trazon

WINTER SOLSTICE PARTY

Sometimes you forget how expansive a resource the internet can be. I've been doing my own version of misguided face crunches for ten years. Apprently FIVE DAYS is all it takes for people to get rid of their turkey necks. Thank God I'm quite there yet.

New York life type trife da Roman Empire state

This is another half-hearted attempt to do justice to The Long List of Things I Pretended to Start. Like renouncing corn syrup. Or buying rollerblades (without the retrosexual guilt). Or not yelling at other people’s pets. I figure if one or more of these gets accomplished, my real priorities will somehow align together like toy soldiers, and we’ll march off into the city to “Hang on Sloopy."

But I’m also, like, tired of running into five-to-seventy-six known faces at any given point of the day (as is often the case with living in this city) and fearing that imminent trainwreck which seems to follow the question: “So... what is it you’ve been up to?” Never is it an issue of being for lack of words, it's more the crisis of which word to start with. Lately I've been falling back on the phrase "tending Satan", but no one seems to laugh at that. So I expect that this might, if nothing else, help me keep in check with myself to see exactly how I am, what I'm up to... and maybe if I don’t feel like answering I’ll just refer them to on this blog:

So let’s start with right now. Where I am now. Which is the Starbucks off of West 4th and Washington Square. Picture, if you will, a loud, raging ferment of Chinese exchange students translating “Things Fall Apart” via text message. A merry-go-round scuffle of cliff-notes for Bourdieau, Schiller, the Situationists, and a girl crying as she digs under them for her amphetamine prescription. Then next to her, a physics undergrad with a Hasidic beard, publicly weighing the pros and cons of testing Tesla’s theory by jumping off the Verrazano Bridge. This is why, Ma and Pa, I cannot go back to school.

I came from the West Coast after a two week boycott of reality to discover that I really had returned to fall in New York. Walking to work past the pale trenchcoats sweeping down 47th, the nurses having dyed their hair dimestore burgundy, the people hugging themselves in the subway stations, I sighed the last breath of summer and awaited the reverberations. The long list of late fees. The unfinished business breeding fresh enemies. The job I took for experience and somehow became my perception of past/present/future. Yes, I realize that I’m speaking in lists, and not without insignificant vitriol, but I really can’t help it.

It all has a little to do with my job. I’ve been working as a production assistant for D.I. Love, a low-budget film directed by Boaz Yakin shooting out of Kaufman-Astoria with Jacqueline Bissett, Josh Lucas and Adam Brody. Without going into too much situational detail (which could provide search engine fodder for some fanclub for The O.C. - or whatever), the experience has been riotous, by which I mean it has been both turbulent and completely hilarious. Somehow, in the brief span of this job, I’ve become a bus driver, tax accountant, key grip, insurance salesman, sound technician, veterinarian, mother, father, cop and freelance whore. Am I demeaning the experience? Probably. That's not to say I didn't make some solid contacts. I also can't complain about the pay. And of course, I feel that I now know just about everything I possibly could about working in this industry. Namely that I will never work in it again. After Thursday, hugs will be exchanged, the last champagne bottles will be uncorked at the wrap party, the ribbons will come down and I will be temporarily unemployed.

So in the interim, I'm going to back to bartending and spending a month-or-two to finish a play. Miraculous Lives is neither close nor far away from completion, so I’m thinking of summoning up a former project or taking on something entirely new. My friend Craig is going to print up some business cards so I can start giving piano lessons/booking private gigs starting November. And if there's enough money leftover from my $800 rent and (sometimes) gratuitous lifestyle, I plan on taking up Bando Thaing (a Burmese form of kickboxing). So that, my friends, is the abridged version of what I'm up to and my Earth dominating plans for the near future. Anyone who knows me well enough understands that I always leave room for failure and, of course, a little bit of the extraordinary.

Tomorrow, Jessica and I have two new roommates moving in. One is a designer from Aeropostale and the other is a model for L’Oreal. I know what you're probably thinking. I've never lived with fashion people either, but though my assumptions trouble me, I'm leaving them by the doormat. As Boaz says, "We're switching reels, folks... it's about to get forbidden."

Love & Other Noises From the Hall,

Trystan Trazon

Lies (by Xiaochang Li)

Photos From the Week's Past

This must be the place...

MANHATTAN FROM THE ROOFTOP DECK



MY SUBLIMELY IMPRESSIVE ROOFTOP



NEIGHBORING ROOFTOP


WILKOMMEN



WORKSPACE



ALTITUDES



UP THE LADDER...



… AND INTO THE MAGICIAN'S QUARTERS.



COMMONS AREA



COMMONS AREA PEERING INTO KITCHEN



CEREAL DYNASTY



HALLWAY (Does this remind you of a certain Dario Argentino movie?)



EXTERIOR – MORNING



JEFFERSON STREET

Low-Impact Consumption Month

Hi Guys,

So in keeping with the spirit of "pretending to be better people" via our general consumption practices, I'm fwing to all of you a list of "low-impact consumption" guidelines as specified through an activist/meditation group in Soho I'm a part of called The Interdependence Project. ( http://www.theidproject.com) July is the official month we're going to start putting in place these instructions, though if you're intimidated by the idea of acclimating yourself into a different routine, it's been suggested that you observe them perhaps a week or so beforehand. The guidelines, at least as I see them, are relatively straightforward and noninvasive, though it'll be interesting to experiment and which prove harder to keep than the others. If you're interested in coming to the meetings, they're typically held on Mondays and Wednesdays at The Lila Center between the Bowery and Houston street. It's a spectacular, kind and rather brilliant group of people. And if you need evidence of this, then search for the podcasts under "The Interdependence Project". (I think I ramble on in one of them about Sesame Street and the Laws of Aggression... like everything that is said in these meetings, context is EVERYthing) It's also become a greater part my personal scheme to bring back Mondays as the new Sunday.

For the guidelines, scroll down after the heading "Consumption Update, Art Groups, etc."

Love & Other Inconviniences,

T.Trazon


-----
JUNE INTERDEPENDENCE PROJECT UPDATE

Hey Everyone,

Our meeting notes and basic guidelines for the Low-Impact Consumption Month of July have been posted on the discussion board at:
http://theidproject.com/discussion/viewtopic.php?t=415.

It also might be enlightening to take the ecofoot.org personal ecological footprint quiz. My own results shocked me when I found out that if everyone lived the way I do, we would need 2.4 Planet Earths to sustain us in the long run. I always thought I lived pretty environmentally - urban, small apartment, mass-transit, vegetarian - but clearly I still have a lot of work to do! If you would like to see how a few other folks did on the quiz and post your results, visit:
http://theidproject.com/discussion/viewtopic.php?t=420

Dorothy and Ben have been hard at work putting together a large body of information resources on how to lower our consumption impact that will be posted on theIDproject.com before July begins.

Again, we are really hoping for a broad participation in July, even if you only practice a few elements of the guidelines.

Weekly Gatherings:

We have two great groups going strong. Please join us Monday or Wednesday if you don't already. Monday's June 4 topic is "Free Speech, Kind Speech, Right Speech." Wednesday's June 6th topic is "Ignorance: Knowing What You Don't Know." Please let friends know if you think they might be interested. If you aren't in NYC, check out the podcast at
http://www.theidproject.com/podcast.htm

Details on weekly gatherings are at http://www.theidproject.com/classes.htm

ID Arts:

-Sunday, June 10 - Looking Glass Life Drawing and Meditation Group 1:30 - 5pm
-Sunday, June 17 - ID Arts Tour of Rubin Museum of Art 1pm
More info http://www.theidproject.com/arts/index.htm , including some drawings from the first Looking Glass group last month!!!

-Writers Group - we are starting a group for people who already have an ongoing writing practice and are also interested in meditation. Email cassie@theidproject.com if you are interested in participating.

-Theater Group - we are also starting a group for performers who share an interest in meditation. Email davidb@theidproject.com if you are interested in this group.

Sentient City: The Art of Urban Dharma: We are accepting submissions in all genres for issue #2 of Sentient City. The Deadline is July 15. We are also looking for design help with the magazine. Email kyle@theidproject.com with any questions or submissions.

Hope you are enjoying your start of summer. See you soon, at a weekly gathering or in cyberspace.

Peace,

Ethan, Dorothy, Nomi, Juan Carlos, Kyle, Leah, Cassie and the crew
The InterDependence Project
http://www.theIDproject.com


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Retreat in Vermont
A Meditation Retreat at Karme Choling
with Ethan Nichtern
Simplicity: Meditation For Real Life
July 27 - August 3, 2007
You don't have to attend the whole thing

With the flexible schedule of this retreat, you can come for one or two day or the whole week. This is absolutely the most beautiful time of year in Vermont, and a great meditation center very dear to my heart that you should check out. There will be extra optional study sessions for those who want to go deeper with their study/practice of the Buddhist teachings.

Follow this link for more details



----

Guidelines for July Low Impact Month

I pledge to lower my impact on the environment for one month.


Below I have listed the general guidelines that I came up with and also the Compacter rules. Any portion and combination of the "rules" can be followed. This can be as hardcore or low core as you want it to be. We also suggest that daily meditation practice, journaling the experience and frequent posts on the discussion board be a part of the month. Please start posting suggestions and resources so we can all help each other. There is a lot of information out there.


I pledge to lower my impact on the environment for one month.


This can be as hardcore or low core as you want it to be. We also suggest that daily meditation practice, journaling the experience and frequent posts on the discussion board be a part of the month.



Suggested Guidelines for July Month of Low Impact


1. Limiting Waste

-plastic bags

-coffee cups

-napkins

-energy, lights, air conditioning, cell phone charging, computers


2. Travel

-public transportation, ride share

-walking, biking

-planning ahead to make less trips in the car (if you have one)


3. Food

-buy local

-no bottles water

-try to eat less meat

4. Other

-limiting general purchasing and consumption of new products

-trying to use second hand stores, library, Craig's list, freecycle.com , downloading music and movies…


5. Personal

-find something personal that you would like to add to your month.



Compacter Guidelines


The aim of the Compacters is:


1. To go beyond recycling in trying to counteract the negative global environmental and socioeconomic impacts of the U.S. consumer culture, to resist global corporatism, and to support local businesses, farms, etc. – a step, we hope, inherits the revolutionary impulse of the Mayflower Compact


2. To reduce clutter and waste in our homes (as in trash Compact-er)


3. To simplify our lives (as in Calm-pact)


*First principle- don't buy new products of any kind (from stores, web sites, etc.)

*Second principle- borrow or buy used


*a few exceptions- using the "fair and reasonable person" standard –i.e., you'll know in your heart when you're rationalizing a violation:


-food, drink, and necessary medicine (no elective treatments like Viagra or Botox)

-necessary cleaning products, but not equipment (don't go out and buy the Dyson Animal, for example)

-socks and underwear (utilitarian- non-couture or ornamental)

-pajamas for the children


*Utilitarian services allowed (plumbers, electricians, auto mechanics, veterinarians, dog/house-sitters, fire/paramedics, dry cleaners, house cleaners, etc.) Support local and encourage used parts (rebuilt transmission, salvaged headlight unit, etc.)


*Recreational services (massage, etc.) and local artisanal items – Good sources for gifts, but should not be over-indulged in for personal gratification


*Charitable contributions (Seva, Heifer, and the like) – an even better source for gifts


*Plants and cut flowers- whenever possible cultivate from free cuttings or seeds. Ok in extreme moderation (yo, incoming oxy) when purchased from local businesses (i.e. not the Target Garden Shop)- and again, within reason


*Art supplies – First line of attack: SCRAP. When absolutely necessary (for the professionals and talented amateurs in the group), from local businesses


*Magazines, newspapers, Netflix- renewals only, no new subscriptions. Even better to consume online


*Video rentals and downloadable music files (non-material) – freely shared and legal, please





























-Nomi Dale

Anthem.

You want to go out Friday
And you want to go forever.
You know that it sounds childish
That you've dreamt of alligators.
You hope that we are all with you
And you hope that you're recognized
You want to go forever
You see it in my eyes.
I'm lost in the confusion
And it doesn't seem to matter
You really can't believe it
And you hope it's getting better.

You want to trust the doctors
Their procedure is the best
But the last try was a failure
And the intern was a mess.
They did the same to Matthew
And he bled 'til Sunday night
They're saying don't be frightened
But you're weakened by the sight of it
You lock into a pattern
And you know that it's the last ditch
You're trying to see through it
And it doesn't make sense
But they're saying don't be frightened
And they're killing alligators
And they're hog-tied
And accepting of the struggle

You want to trust religion
And you know it's allegory
But the people who are followers
Have written their own story.
So you look up to the heavens
And you hope that it's a spaceship
And it's something from your childhood
Your thinking don't be frightened

You want to climb the ladder
You want to see forever
You want to go out Friday
And you want to go forever.
And you want to cross your DNA
To cross your DNA with something reptile.
And you're questioning the sciences
And questioning religion
You're looking like an idiot
And you no longer care.
And you want to bridge the schism,
The built in mechanism to protect you.
And you're looking for salvation
And you're looking for deliverance
You're looking like an idiot
And you no longer care.
You want to climb the ladder
You want to see forever.
You want to go out Friday
You want to go forever.

Photographic Investigation For Untitled Writing Project / The OTB on W. 49th St. / 5-03-07

My name is Trystan Trazon.
Formerly Trystan Phillip Toole of Greater Seattle, Washington. Currently living on the margin between Queens and Brooklyn. Ask what brought me to this city, and I’ll ramble off a list of excuses. I make music, I write plays, I shake martinis, take my paychecks, then dance myself into debt. I've spent most of my life shooting my mouth off and am now understanding the authority that comes with being an attentive listener. I'm the world's tardiest answerer of voicemails. I don't always write (or for that matter, speak) in complete sentences. I am preoccupied with pop culture revivals, past revolutionaries and public indecency. But mostly I’m preoccupied with this absurd reality of people, in spite of their collective resistance and capacity toward suffering, forever struggling to just get along.

Really, this blog is here mostly as a means to condition a kind of self-narrative. By that I mean (and I've said this many times before) the idea that "if you didn’t write it, it didn’t happen". Brick upon brick of my self-referential memory have left an entire fourth wall open to the crisis of forgetting. I am showing signs of a geriatric at the age of twenty-two. I need to build this wall, or rebuild it, as the case may be. Even if it means reversing the chronology. Otherwise, there really is no excuse for this blog. Maybe to defend the declining relevance of neosocialist theory. And oh, to post YouTube videos of Jennifer Hudson.

Yes, mostly just that.

So enjoy at your risk. Just don't say I didn't warn you.

Keep With The Bliss,

Trystan Trazon.

Dedicated to all The Nobodys & The Somebodys

“At long last love has arrived,
And I Thank God I’m alive.
You’re just too good to be true,
Can’t take my eyes off of you.”
- Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons

We open on a jetliner, suspended mid-song.
Playing courtesy of Phil Spector before The Wall of Sound Shakedown. It's a veteran theme, an orphan angel in the zeitgeist, lowering his bow to the young in love and newly emanicpated. It should be a fanfare for change, but you hear it as an oath of good riddance should the plane shake-and-shudder to its fall somewhere between Southeast Pennsylvania and the modern dregs of suburban Jersey. Not that these are thoughts which you, yourself, can account for. You've been drinking bourbon and soda since you crossed the Mississippi River. The coffee must have rattled your nerves this time, but that bitch sitting behind you reading The National Review certainly isn't helping. (Why is it men, and always men in planes are reduced to the back of their furniture?) She's crushed both knees into your seat, killing your stereophonic bliss, leaning invasively into that disparity that splits your dream from imminent suspicion. You keep listening to the song until it barges in from the left like a sprawling citadel--that view of Lower East Manhattan which hints at the beginning of the end. And its here where the woman behind withdraws both her knees to release you into the mystery. And there she has left you, in that space between to swim and retrieve how your story is to begin.

This will be a story, you've decided, of wishes and exonerations. A story of cosmic retribution. A story of arrivals and departures. Of disappearance. The belief in magic. Of small-tales, tall-tales. The search for paradise. Of half-lives and the flight of angels. Of past, present and future converging at a streetlight. Of resistance, then the courage to give in. Of friends. The music of an accident. Of foiled rivals. Of lightening storms. Of rain on the rooftops. Of requiems. Of premonition. Of trains and boats and planes. Of big cities and small towns and put-upon accents. It’s the story of the big balloon, and the man who gave up trying to save the world.

It’s a simple story, really.

You probably know it already.

And this is not what happened, but it’s how I remember it.