Exit Strata is pleased as punch to introduce you to interdisciplinary conceptual artist Chloë Bass, who will be sending us Field Notes from her upcoming journey across the pond as she continues her ongoing work with The Bureau of Self-Recognition.
This episode of Nightbus Radio’s FIELD NOTES finds Jack Kennedy in Chicago, Illinois. If you haven't been introduced to guest blogger “Kennedy Karate,” yet, read the pre-quel intro to this Soundcloud Fellow‘s series HERE, and check out episode 2, Dreamcatching
This episode of Nightbus Radio's FIELD NOTES finds Jack Kennedy in Asheville, North Carolina. Have you met "Kennedy Karate" yet? Read the pre-quel intro to this Soundcloud Fellow's series HERE. NightBus Radio #2 - Dreamcatching In Asheville by kennedykarate Leaving Nashville seemed
This week Danny and I passed the three month mark of our journey across the United States. Three months in, the goal still centers on journeying outside of our selves. That task complicates itself at every turn, but the motion
I’ve had one hell of a time in Nashville. I lost my virginity and my pride watching and listening to some insanely talented musicians playing on Broadway. My man on the scene, Christopher Walken, got an eye opening interview with
On top of the Olympic Range I am skating over snowfields and looking through something I'd only impair to describe as 'fabric' at night. Deep nostalgic chest throbs: the mushroom chocolates were a good choice. There was supposed to be
and pretty soon there’s my arm ! : A Field Notes baedeker by Donna Fleischer On assignment in the Exit Strata Field Notes office sans walls. Mountain air and wild clover nitrogen sacs beneath rockshelf. Fertility Wampum. Barefoot through their unseen globules, nodules, atop sandy patterns the width and wavinesses of a snake’s movements, as in many Navaho textile weavings, as are the photograms of Adam Fuss. How I try to mostly (write) now, undulate, corporealize and scrabble across this Connecticut steppe and mountain ridge meadow. Morning blueberries, raw almonds, coffee, black cat, garter snake, mockingbirds swoop and dip into the small clover clumps; read mainstay poets with field glasses and compass ~ Charlie Mehrhoff, Amy King, Karma Tenzing Wangchuk, purple crown vetch and a stand of Queen Anne’s Lace tall from rain, Noelle Kocot, Ana Božičević, Tim Trace Peterson, Filip Marinovich, Tyrone McDonald, David Pontrelli, mountain winds, CAConrad, Anne-Adele Wight, bird squawks, Scott Watson, Bob Arnold, Ariana Reines, Christina Pacosz, Lynn Behrendt, marlene mountain, just can’t name them all ~. My neighbor April just came home in her red Beetle. Its motor purrs. The weather is magnanimous. Here’s the skull of Phineas Gage, poor man, lodged in my brain. I retrieve the railroad tie, place it in the ground, as totem. Who is to know how it all begins, goes forth, stumbles along, falls and crawls back with earthworm writhe to write.
Travel often makes me aware of the many roles that I continually fulfill without realizing them. There are moments in any successful trip that cause the traveler to come face to face with his/her own intentions, hopefully causing the traveler