"Pop" That "Top" Purses

When I lived in Rio de Janeiro for two months in early 2006 during Carneval season, I was hanging out on Copacabana Beach with a friend and a vendor (one of dozens upon dozens every day) who had something unique-recycled pop-top purses. I decided to get a little small scale business going through him and put in an order and see if I could sell some back home. The petite ones have moved here and there though I have generally put in little effort on the process. But they have sold well in local boutiques in Portland when I was still there and some here, as well as on eBay and Craigslist. When I returned in late 2007 for a few weeks I had him do some of a deluxe prototype that he gave me the first time around and those have moved very well in the past year and I am running out of them but still have a few left. More info about the artist and the purses are now stored on this link:

http://recycledartwork.ning.com/profile/Ricardo

The guy who started this site saw them listed on Craigslist and asked me to get involved and share this unusual type of art accessory. So if you or anyone you know would be interested in one or more of them, send me a message. Tchau.

Circle Confusion & the Meat Dept.

So there has been a HUGE renewed interest in my old band, Circle Confusion, as I am sure you have heard, who rose and crashed in the late 80s. Sorry, but you probably were not there. Tough luck. You certainly do not know what you missed-we were simply way ahead of our time (like an early Nirvana with a drum machine-all “Sturm und Drang ” for sure with catchy, catchy melodies to boot!) and called it quits (like the original Stooges from our homebase of Ann Arbor too) before we became like the Stones (the Stones, I love the Stones, I watch them whenever I can-Fred and Barney), Aerosmith, Springsteen, Metallica, Sonic Youth and so many, many others-too many to list after just one masterpiece of an album-more info viewable here-click on the "Lively Art" link twice:

http://www.limbos.org/newrose/

Anyway...

recently due to fortuitous luck, I was able to track down our missing bassist and reconnect with him. He stated that he would do a Wiki page and a Myspace page on the band in order to enlighten a whole new generation who had the grave misfortune to miss out on us the first time out (yeah, right). BUT, in order to do this he stated he needed me, as the main chronicler of our varied mischievous acts and outrages and debacles, to write down a rough draft of our history which I did a few months back and e-mailed it to him, Jim, and Paul, the guitarist, to review for inaccuracies and general outright lies. Since I am still waiting, here is that draft for you to dissect and be amazed by! Also in the meantime, since the Myspace page is not up and streaming music (ahem, Jimbo) or anything like that, I was able to transfer the album to digital format a few years back (since we were lovely vinyl only in a prestigious limited release of 2000 copies!) and therefore I have stored it in WMA format for your listening pleasure. In you want to hear a sample track for FREE, sent me a message and I will e-mail it directly to you as long as you can receive files of up to 10 mbs, which is the standard now anyway. Then you can “rock out” in total bliss!

So here's the draft:

“Circle Confusion formed in August of 1985 in Ann Arbor Michigan. The initial members were Richard Williams (vocals, drum machine programming), Paul Staskowski (guitar) and Parvin Panahi (bass). Within two months, they had recorded and released a three song demo cassette (Fly/Arctic Days/Interfear) that was recorded with engineer/co-producer Phil Seiden, owner of Tool & Die studios. Their first gig was at the Halfway Inn at East Quad at the University of Michigan with Slaughterhouse and Spahn Ranch.

With heavily processed and distorted guitar effects and a preference for thick tribal drum motifs created by the drum machine dubbed “Juggernaut”, the band's initial sound fit in the realm of darker/heavier acts like Joy Division, the Jesus and Mary Chain, Swans and Big Black.

The widely distributed demo garnered both local and national interest and by the summer of 1986 the band earned an opening slot in Chicago opening for Big Black. Around this time, more demos were recorded (Our Attitude and (In the Name of) Survival) and they were submitted to various independent labels of interest to the band.

Near the end of the summer of 1986, the band was approached by C'est La Mort Records of Baker Louisiana near Baton Rouge about appearing on a soon to be released compilation named “Dr. Death's Volume 1” featuring the likes of Boston's Throwing Muses (4AD records artist) and England's Breathless. (In the Name of) Survival was chosen by the label director and appeared as track 2 on side 2 when it was released toward the end of 1986. It was around this time that Parvin Panahi chose to leave the band and was replaced on bass by Jim Burg. Shortly thereafter, the band was chosen to open for Throwing Muses at the renowned St. Andrews Hall in Detroit during their US tour.

Early 1987 saw the band performing live more as well as recording more tracks with Phil Seiden. With the band's list of original songs expanding into the range of 15-20 regular tracks, it was decided to move forward with the production of an album's worth of material that could then be promoted to interested labels for future release. On and off for much of the late spring/early summer, the band retreated to Phil Seiden's Tool & Die studios to lay down tracks. Near the end of the sessions, the band was contacted by the label director of C'est La Mort records and told that Patrick Mathe, president of New Rose Records in Paris France, was very interested in putting out an album by the band and that he would be contacting the band shortly. As recording was wrapping up, a deal was struck and plans began for final mixing/mastering of the tapes with artwork development to be done by the label.

On January 15th of 1988, a test pressing was completed. One month later, the album was released in Europe and as an import to the US with the title “Meat Dept.”, as Arty 4 release, under the division label of New Rose called “Lively Art”.

The tracks were as follows:

Turkish Royalty
Arctic Days
(In the Name of) Survival
Death to Stars
You Bait
The Executioner's Song
She Sells My Life
Intensity
Our Attitude
False Bastards

The next few months saw the band promoting the album in the States and garnered positive reviews, both locally and nationally and charting highly on various college radio station charts. Around this time, the band finally found a drummer that met their criteria for live performances and Aaron Jones was added to the line-up, rehearsals ensued and Juggernaut was retired.

Thus newly re-established, the band embarked on numerous local gigs in the Detroit area that culminated in once again opening for Throwing Muses in May, traveling to Morgantown, WV, Pittsburgh PA and Toronto, Ontario for a mini tour in early June with the band triumphantly opening for the Pixies on their Surfer Rosa tour at Rick's American Cafe in Ann Arbor.

The band continued to search for a licensing deal for the release of the album in the US, but nothing workable came to fruition. Additionally, at this time, Paul and Jim were in the final stages of determining their plans for graduate school which meant relocation and, for all practical purposes, the end of the run for the band. Richard and Aaron (on bass), shortly thereafter, formed a band dubbed Black Jesus with a Detroit area guitarist and drummer."

“Crash”ing with Dennis Hopper

http://www.starz.com/originals/crash

So the deal is that over time thru some folks here I know who are involved in the growing film industry here in ABQ, I've been told about opportunities to be an extra on the set.  Crash, as you probably know, is based on the Oscar winner from a few years back.  I, personally thought the movie was just OK and the series has its moments with Dennis being in it but the main cop from a separate story line is a joke and a poorly written character in my estimation.  Anyway...

ABQ is a stand in for LA in this series.  Got picked to be a "record executive" (ironic, I know) in a scene where Dennis' character is trying to get back in the good graces of his daughter who has taken over the family business because he is a washed up drug addled mess.  I am in a scene with about 8 other record exec types as Dennis is pitching his new "future" for the record industry with a stripper on each arm (including this lovely Filipino girl who “works” locally). 

BTW, the episode is titled "The Future is Free" so you know what to look-the season is over but they rerun all episodes on the various Starz networks and on Encore.  We shot for about 6 hours from about 10 different angles with about 30 takes and various reaction close ups and I ended up with two shots for about 5 WHOLE seconds starting at about the 32 minute mark of the episode so I made the cut. I know most of you probably do not have Starz and this is their first original series, but I am throwing it out there-maybe it will be on Hulu.com at some point or something like that.  BTW, Dennis is pretty darn hilarious in person. He cursed a lot when he messed up his dialogue, which happened a lot. Of course, he had to do about 30 takes as I mentioned-I can't imagine how they can tolerate the process and repetition-it is so very tedious. It would have been awesome if had slipped into his Frank Booth character from Blue Velvet and said something like “Radiohead, fuck that shit! PABST BLUE RIBBON!!!”

"Carving" Out A New Life

So we moved to Portland in the summer of 95'. In fact, for what it's worth (nothing btw although Portland has a couple of hippies here and there so I have heard), the day we arrived was the day Jerry Garcia died. You can wiki it-August 9th 1995. So I like to think I had something, even minor, to do with his demise because for the life of me, AND I HAVE TRIED AND TRIED, by listening to their heinous music, but I do not understand the appeal of the Grateful Dead. I mean, they could NOT write even a slightly catchy song to save their lives. Didn't matter if you were on acid, PCP, weed, coke, alcohol, horse tranquilizers, angel dust, whatever. It just didn't matter. Their songs just blow. Trust me I gave them the ol' college try. Heck, the lovely Throbbing Gristle is 100 times more tuneful and their stated goal was NOT to be tuneful. But I digress...

It didn't take long for me to start digging the artistic motifs of the First Nations Coastal Indians that historically inhabit a range from Northern Cali up to Alaska and beyond. At first, during long weekend road trips to Vancouver BC (lovely city) to see my beloved DETROIT RED WINGS play hockey, the greatest game on earth (screw soccer and those floppin' fairies-well EXCEPT for Pele and some of the artistic Brasilian homens-including Umbabarauma, my URL namesake from the awesome Jorge Ben song of the same name), we would go to the galleries throughout the city (particularly Hill's Native Art) and purchase cool carvings that were in our budget and “mount' them around the living room back home in order to spook any lame Anglos who came over (and that's all there is in PDX as I recall).

After a few years of this, circa 1999 (screw Prince too, he can barely write a song and is a total “twit”-purple is the color of royalty???!!!! My bunda!), I figured out that I, a total white man with a dull Northern European lineage starting in Britain/France and ending in Poland/Russia could be allowed to take local community college courses and learn the art of this noble art style. Which I did. It is not actually that hard once you learn the basics (kinda like sex in that way). In short, here is a sample of the results (not included is my first carving of a whale head in relief-it was putrid like if you actually saw a rotting, putrid whale on the beach on the coast of Oregon-that's how bad it was but my instructor still encouraged me to become the “rank” amateur I still am).

And credit where credit is due: all painted colors are the responsibility of the ex as I can only paint walls successfully and all hair is the responsibility of my Olde English Sheepdog, Windsor, who was not harmed in the creation of this art and still has more than enough hair left even at the ripe old age of almost 14 to drive most adults crazy and all young girls at my local park loco. More on “her/hair” to come later.

I Hit the Road/It Hit Me Back-But In A Good Way

So post the separation/divorce a few years back, international wander”lust” is my calling and I've carved out a way to make it happen while still maintaining a steady cash flow so a roof covers my head (and cashing out at the top of the market in late 2005 in PDX and Santa Fe doesn't hurt).

Here's the link to Webshots to assorted and edited digital pics from the past few years.

http://community.webshots.com/user/richard0154

I still need to load some Rio/Brasil fotos from 2001, 2005, 2006, 2007 (see a pattern here?) of course as well as the shots from my addled adventure with my ol' OZ matey, Nathan, from 2004 when I met up with him in really totally gay Paree during his personal sabbatical and my own personal hell and we traipsed thru Spain, exiled in Fez Morocco for a few days (a lovely 110 F in July!) before they determined we were indeed infidels and sent us back up to Amsterdam and Brussels to “chill” out before taking over the Louvre.

Kickin' It With The Doc

Heck, where else would be a good starting point but this subject, right, amigas and amigos??? As I recall my gradual transformation from a “new wavy” guy in 1984 to a much serious harder noise industrialist in 1985 during my tenure at thee Olde University of Michigan (Red Berenson-best coach ever!!!), I did high tail it to the nearest Army Surplus store in Ann Arbor to purchase a pair of de riguer combat boots in order to somehow compensate for my lack of altitude which had dogged me from the ripe old age of 12. Naturally they were quite used and gnarly but I recall only being set back about two sawbucks ($20 for you youngsters out there as well as those not fortunate enough to be simmered in Midwest cultura as an “enfant terrible”).

They served me well for a number of years into marriage and into the early 90s despite not being well insulated (remember, we are talking Michigan winters here) nor all that comfortable. Alas, after cashing in on the “go to Japan, teach English, make some serious cash and retreat from that humid concrete hellhole” event of 92-93, the future ex-Mrs. Williams and I returned for a brief rendezvous in Royal Oak (Joke) Michigan, the emerging hipster suburb just north of the humid concrete hellhole belovedly known as my hometown-Detroit, where I previously had acquired most of my obscure vinyl, to purchase a real pair of combat boots, better know as Doc Martens.

Now, even for that time, $110 was quite an outlay of cash for one as frugal as I. But I tell you what, those suckers are still with me today, better than even pictured here. Yes, a little world weary for sure (six continents and counting including favela retreats, natch) but dang, despite some wear and minor scuffs, they are like the day they were new and still so damn comfortable (and sexy, to “boot”). In short, I like rugged, well tailored things, so Doc Martens-you are the best and I bow to your creator-a real man and not some dude in the sky. And here's the “kicker”-I even have a back up pair-a pair of shiny bronze colored ones for special “kick ass” occasions (not pictured here). The best part of this pair is that I picked them up at a Big 5 Sports Store sales event in Portland at the turn of the century for about $60. WHAT A STEAL!!! But unlike that hippy Abby Hoffman, I will never, ever say, “Steal these boots”. In fact, if you try to steal my boots or any man's boots for that matter, I will get all nasty on you like Blondie (Clint) in “The Good, The Bad And The Ugly” to the soundtrack of Ennio Morricone in my head...”I've never seen so many men wasted so badly”.

To quote Ian Curtis, "Where have they been"?

So I set up this blog as I previously mentioned basically on a whim and a challenge from other lame folk like myself who have them though they are actually doing creative stuff and what not and then I did jack with it for quite a while as you can see-seems I was sidetracked by sciatica (since alleviated by the curative miracle of bad golfing-I kid you not) and an Xmas time excursion down to south of Tucson to visit the folks combined with a further excursion down to Sonora Mexico (Puerto Penasco specifically) to visit with a sweet chica named Raquel who I originally met up with at my folk's vacation place, the Shell Castle (www.shellcastle.com -btw, please, please buy this place or recommend it to some millionaire you know with mucho cash flow as they own me muito dineros but can't pay me off until they sell it-trust me, I need the cash flow myself like the rest of the world these day-oh meu deus), in San Carlos Sonora Mexico near Guaymas-6 hours directly south of Tucson.

But the motivation has hit again during the anti-dog days of January so I am moving forward with great vengeance and will be pontificating on a few subjects whether you care or not. Who knows, deep within my tortured psyche, this may only be for my own edification in the end. To act as a juxtaposition to a noted quote by Hunter S. Thompson I say, “Tear up the ticket, don't take the ride” for all I care.

So anyway, where to begin?