notes from the kelp

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear a cue I did years ago for a scary action flick, to accompany these images of Bird Island.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled ocean-based pixelsonic blog. Thanks to Smudge the Gravity Cat for taking over yesterday, although entirely without my knowledge, he surfed the web and found some inspiration from Sir Georg Solti, here.

Looking like something seen from one’s pirate ship as it approaches land, just a couple hundred yards in front of the unsuspecting tourist’s feet looms Bird Island, at the southern end of Point Lobos State Park. Viewed from afar, one can barely make out the multitude of black dots scattered across the barren outcropping and on the ridge. But peering more closely, you can see the details of thousands of cormorants– both Brandt’s and Pelagic– as well as a few squatting gulls enjoying the commotion around them.

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear a zippy little TV theme from my past life, to welcome in the weekend.

Smudge is happy to take over the blogging responsibilities today while I sit here and try to get some more writing done on a new quartet for flute, violin, cello and piano. Thanks, Smudge– next week, it’s Moses’ turn. Ok, Smudge, here you go….

(clatter of cat getting settled into the chair and adjusting the laptop screen for best viewing angle)

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear an excerpt from my flute quartet, “Bioplasm.”

Of the many places to stop by the side of California’s Route 1, I laugh out loud the most when I’m at a narrow stretch of beach near the Hearst Castle and Piedras Blancas, a couple of hours north of Santa Barbara. Don’t miss this if you’re in the area! Stepping inches from your car, you will suddenly be standing right next to thousands upon thousands of Elephant Seals hauled out on the sand. Not only is it a sight to behold, but a sound, as well. These creatures– some, at 5,000 pounds, weigh more than an SUV– produce a steady stream of the most incredible noises you can imagine. Grunts, wails, roars, gurgles, high pitches and low, it’s all there, in no discernible order. I should bring my Minidisc next time I’m there, if only to plagiarize for my next piece– it could be one of my best ones.

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear some of a movement from my “Evensong Suite” titled “Magnificat,” to accompany these photos of Big Sur looking down, and up, the coast.

The perfect way to relax after a really fun time working in the Bay area, was a really fun drive the long way down the Western edge of the continent. I never miss an opportunity to do this.

It is impossible to snap a photo of the Big Sur coastline that doesn’t look like a postcard. Proof, above. This February day was unseasonably warm; a hat and sunscreen were needed to stave off the insistent sun, even through a touch of marine haze. For the countless times over roughly 25 years that I’ve taken this drive and collected favorite stopping points, not once have any of them ever looked the same way twice. The air, the water and the smells all change daily. Especially in vibrant places like Point Lobos, below, I barely recognize the coves and tidepools with which I’ve made friends twenty times before. This spot magnetically draws me each time I’m nearby; I even wrote a jazz tune in its honor. Maybe one of the reasons I love the Carmel and Monterey area is that I never know what I’m going to feel, no matter what my expectations might be. Just like composing a new piece.

Two unrelated things really amaze me: in each pair, the color of the ocean is green in one photo gazing south, and blue in the other facing north, even though they were taken within minutes of each other. It looked just like this in person, so I’m guessing this phenomenon has to do with the way the sunlight and clouds reflect and refract the light on the water.

And the second thing that continues to amaze and awe me is that I live like this. When I returned home this afternoon, as you can see from the header of this blog and many other photos here, it didn’t look wildly different. I cannot get over my great fortune to be surrounded by so much heart-boggling beauty, and that’s largely why I decided to start this blog this year, in order to share it with you. Whoever you are.

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear some of “Point Lobos,” while enjoying photos of… Point Lobos.

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear some of “Intermezzo,” to accompany my photo of Point Dume looking northwest up the coastline at low tide.

I post this as a reminder to myself of home. I’ve been somewhat inland these past three days, having a wonderful time as composer and moderator at the New Music Festival at Santa Clara University. My daily relay has been from the campus to the hotel and back again; a distance of one block, with the sole local liquid offering found not in the ocean, but in a Starbucks paper cup. My mind and heart are nurtured here, surrounded by gleaming students and exceptional colleagues. But I look forward to Sunday’s wiggly drive back down the Big Sur coastline. I will stand on another part of the edge of the continent, snap some photos from favorite spots, and show you more of of what I love here in California. Stay tuned.

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear a movement from my “Piano Suite No. 1” titled “Variations on a Memory,” to accompany these photos of the contrasting tides.

High tide. Low tide. Same spot. The dual personalities of the beach are good reminders that none of us are as constant as we may like to believe. And that’s what makes us interesting.

The tide has pulled out to a magnificent, soul-baring minus 1.74, and the receding water leaves some of the ocean’s most wonderful creatures exposed and vulnerable. The most colorful are the Ochre Sea Stars, who pile on top of each other in orgiastic glee.

The greenest secret of the underworld is the surfgrass, resulting in an oceanic Ireland revealed just a few hours each month. The first time I ever saw this sight I was stunned by how vibrant and land-like these tough masses of long, slippery plants were. Like an intimate conversation with a lover who unexpectedly shares something personal and heartfelt about themselves, it is unspeakably special to be allowed to view the private treasures which lie beneath the sea’s shiny, liquid veneer.

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear the first movement from my “Evensong Suite” to accompany this often hidden beauty.

Everything you see here is normally many feet underwater! There is something absolutely precious about being given the gift of seeing these usually hidden aspects of the sea. academic alabama divorce loanamortize a $1000 loaneducation aed loansloans acting schoolgeneral loans american memphisstudent all chase loans50000 loans quick $5000$10000 overnight loan Map

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear a movement from “At the Abyss” titled “Act,” to keep this fellow company.

Snowy egrets are pretty solitary around here, preferring to enjoy a meal on their own rather than have to hold up their end of a conversation with a dinner partner. You can spot them from a long distance; they’re very conspicuous since there’s nothing nearby that’s remotely this Clorox-bleached. Otherwise a very graceful bird topped with Vegas-style plumage (in it’s off-duty position here) that would be the envy of a showgirl, the elegance ends at its feet. They are large, with skinny webbed toes painted a bright yellow that I couldn’t quite capture in this photo. The only way to describe the comical way they walk, is to ask you to envision Harpo Marx and your choice of one of the Three Stooges pretending to prowl around and sneak up on someone, lifting each foot with exaggeration and gingerly placing it far ahead of their body. The Ministry of Silly Walks has another cabinet member.advancement training mortgage processor loan$550 loans personalinter-library loan activities of100 financing jumbo a on loan$4000 loan personal bad creditloans 590 score home creditohio and 502 direct loansloans schedule business amortization Map

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear a flute quartet playing in a version of four, in “Plasma.”

Fellow Sequenza21 blogger David Toub sent me a e-mail tagging me with the infamous Four Things meme. A fad whose purpose, to those of you as yet uninitiated, will immediately become clear. And rather pointless. But being one to never miss an opportunity, no matter just how pointless, here we go:

Four Jobs I’ve Had:
Switchboard operator, python breeder, 2nd engineer in a heavy metal recording studio, booth score reader for Star Trek orchestral scoring sessions.

Four Movies I Can Watch Over and Over Again:
Welcome to L.A., Sleeper, Spirited Away, What the !@#$ (Bleep).

Four Places I’ve Lived:
Upper East Side of Manhattan, Upper West Side of Manhattan, Van Nuys, Calif., Malibu, Calif. Astonishingly, in all these years they are the only four. Birdlike, I am quite a nester.

Four TV Shows I Love:
Fuel TV’s extreme surf/skate/snow boarding, What’s My Line?, Countdown with Keith Olbermann, I Love Lucy.

Four Places I’ve Vacationed:
Siberia, Mongolia, Haiti, Peru.

Four of My Favorite Foods:
Ben & Jerry’s Dublin Mudslide ice cream, broccoli, sugar snap peas, chilled Grey Goose vodka. All at once, if possible.

Four Sites I Visit Daily:
Sequenza 21, WetSand (surf and swell report), The Huffington Post, Google News.

Four Places I’d Rather Be Right Now:
What, are you kidding? Just look at where I am! Oh, all right:
In that blissful state of composing when time disappears, kayaking above the kelp beds, eating hot cioppino at Brophy Bros in the Santa Barbara harbor, asleep in a deep dream state.

Clockwise, from upper left: Wavy Turban shell, California Cowry shell, Scallop shell, and a former sea urchin without its purple spines.

Oh, and Smudge and Moses wish you all a very happy, loving Friday!

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear one of my more pensive jazz tunes.

It’s striking, actually unsettling, just how utterly still the air has been all day and night. Not a leaf moving. In the wake of the wind storm, the only hint of the previous madness is the remaining pile of small branches and tarry pieces of roofing laying at the doorstep. I will find another time to clean up the evidence. For now, I stare at a large ficus tree next to the house that two days ago threatened to break, and wonder how it can stand innocently amid the tossed deck furniture and broken planters as though nothing had happened.

The sole movement tonight has been the sudden thunder of well nourished raccoons chasing each other the 60 foot length of the house and back again, using my roof as their racetrack. The heavy, dotted rhythms of their gait shook me out of the undotted rhythms of the passage I had been writing, and I palmed a flashlight to have a look. Standing under a bedroom skylight my eyes peered up to follow the battery-powered beam, and were met unexpectedly with the equally curious gaze of a masked creature who probably wondered what I was doing down here. Before I could finish grinning, he bolted again for the far end of the rain gutter to catch up with another loud-footed friend.

Down by the shoreline this evening, it was damp and still as well. Only my mind continued to race with the wind.

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Click on the blue music icon above to hear a clip from my bassoon sonata, “Of Breath and Touch.”

We are now on the fading end of a remarkable two-day wind storm. Gusts to 70 mph. And this morning, detritus everywhere, unexpected imports from far away. Had I been able to take a photo of this event without risking getting bonked on the head by heavy, dried-out projectile palm fronds 14 feet long shooting through the sky like missiles, I would have. I chose in favor of my head, this time.

On Sunday as we walked up the coastline with the wind pushing our backs, Charles and I were stunned by the visual clarity everywhere, and the incessant movement of the waves driving sideways across the ocean. The most beautiful effect is when the waves are blown back upon themselves as they charge the beach. Shore birds, including this little snowy plover above, were out poking around for their lunch and struggled to keep their balance.

A half mile later it was time to turn around, and simultaneously we realized the folly of our afternoon stroll. Our smiles turned to grimaces as the wind and the loose sand that came along with it for the ride smacked us hard in the face. It was a warm day, but the power of the air made my ears hurt by the time we found safe, still haven back in the house. No more windy walks here!

Today is very beautiful. The Santa Anas have melted from a bone-dry hurricane to an invigorating strong breeze, and now I’ll go outside to water the parched plants before beginning my composing for the day, invigorated, as well.
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Click on the blue music icon above to hear a movement from my “Piano Suite No.1” titled “For My Father,” to accompany this photo of the crumbled bluffs.

Everything here is in motion; there is constant change and shift. Rocks on which I walked yesterday are dust today. No big earthquake, just entropy. I have learned to not get too attached to physical things.