Bringing In A New Year

I enjoy the end of a year.  In this case much like many others, the end also means the beginning.  The end of this year was special, as some feared the world was going to plummet, while others prayed it would.  The movie 2012 is now a hilarious comedy... -RGW.  Yesterday I felt like a child as we made jibs and boxes in Ian's yard to snowboard on.  Home for the holidays, then back to the great state of Minnesota (Franconia Sculpture Park ) until who knows when.  Chase is at Hunter Mountain Killing it with the Ice Coast Crew.  This Friday, Dan is coming up to Hunter for a show at The Spinning Room Bar.  It's gonna be a rager.  Ham Wallet (Salem Art Works own whiskey garage band), MeJokingYouSeriousWhy? (The post-work blues, sun-dried and freezer burned, covered in coastal perfume.  Born in the Winter, dead in the barn. (with new songs)), and Us, Lovesick Nomads.  If you're not there on Friday Jan 4th at 9 P.M to drink beer with all of us, then what the hell are you doing?  Click Me! Can you tell I just learned how to do hyperlinks on here?  Stop having gun control law fights on the internet, be happy you're here, and have a swell New Year's Eve.  Cheers.

Forgive Me Pretty Baby,

but I always take the long way home. Chase writing. Been a while since anyone has posted here, felt this was timely. Left Salem Art Works, went home, saw awesome one year old nephew, drank beer, played with dogs, drove to Trumansburg. Working on a new book with the visionary Mr. Nathan Lewis. Jammed hard this week-3 days strong of making paper from military uniforms (and sleeves from an old Quasar Abode t-shirt), linoleum cuts, silkscreens, sketches, failed solar plates, and bippity boppity boop. Spent a lot of time in an old office-building-turned-studios that once harbored employees for one of the largest chicken manufacturing companies in the country, named babCOCK. Funny, right? Kinda sick and gross. I know there were never chickens in there but I still smelled poultry ghosts. Book should be out by March. Totally independent free range home grown art, unlike those chickens. Pick one up when available. You'll never see another one quite like it. Heading to Hunter Mtn. in the Catskills to try to make some money and make art and drink good beer and eat good food for the winter. Back to SAW in the spring. Yall should consider applying for a music residency that I will be coordinating there, as well as silkscreen workshops that I will be teaching. Any writers should check out the writing residency/fellowship programs. I built a shack tower made from found materials (minus the wonderfully toxic pressure-treated columns) that will be available to writers and equipped with solar electricity and WI-Fiiiiii. And maybe an old type writer, too. Plus the hill I built it on is good for your legs. I can jump fences like a deer and eat your veggies. Copy paste- salemartworks.com for applications.

Silkscreen workshop applications won't be up for a little bit. Keep an eye out if interested. Contact me directly for music residency info. chasewinkler388@gmail.com or (518)-368-1170. I often am not around to answer my phone so leave me a text and I will call you back. Sorta weird, we built similar things. Its like we're related or something. Mr. Dane Winkler::

Wishin Lovesick Nomads could play more music. We're all in different places but together in spirit. Potential December show, I hope. Danes been killing it in Minnesota at Franconia Sculpture Park. Making things happen. Stay warm this winter. I think its gonna be a doozy. Keep on rockin' in the free world. -Chips

Garage Sailing

A long time ago, Mike Kelley, Mike Underwood, Dan Gaetani, and I wrote some music in my bedroom. It was really loud in there, and I don't have a volume knob on my drum set. We wrote some stuff hastily in preparation for a show at ROTA studio and gallery space in Plattsburgh, NY. The show was fun, people said things like "good set guys" and "wait, we can't drink here?". We called the project Mejokingyouseriouswhy?, because we're funny guys.

About a year and a half later (last weekend), we reunited in Mike Underwoods barn to record those songs. Turns out we missed them and they weren't as bad as we remembered. Six songs written in two weekends over a year apart, and recorded in five or so hours. It sounds ok for what we've got as far as recording equipment and time and all... not to toot our horns or anything. It's free like it should be. Not that we don't hold it with any value, but we want you to hear it. Mike Underwood plays cello, guitar and bass on it, Mike Kelley plays guitar, bass, and drums , Dan Plays Guitars, and I play drums and some guitar and singing. For us (or for me who decided to speak for "us") it's a little caption of a small period of time. One being the Plattsburgh days at ZUKES spot, and the other being this past weekend in the sun. It was Dans birthday, and it's rare for us all to get together like that. Spontaneity is good and there's not enough of it around for us any more. If you want to listen to what it sounded like when we played in Mikes barn on that summer weekend you can do it here. (copy paste http://mejokingyouseriouswhy.bandcamp.com/ ) Hopefully later in life we find it and say "that was fun" and "we didn't suck". Enjoy.

We Were A Real Band For A Little Bit

A real band plays shows, for people to see at venues and stuff. We did that this past weekend. Thursday the sky turned dark green in a perfectly straight line. Friday we played at an awesome Bar/bowling alley in Bushwick, NY called The Gutter, with Eleanor and Butchers Blind. Special thanks to Brendan Morris and Eleanor for getting us on this show, and for ripping. I got real sweaty and drank some free delicious beer. Saturday we played at The Party Xpo in Bushwick with The Shakes, Heirloom, The Insides, and another band that jumped on the bill in which I can't remember the name of. Partied with the Shakes and friends afterwards. They are a wild crew. We listened to silly songs and had as much fun as we possibly could without breaking everything, wigs and all. Sunday morning I woke up on the roof and was reluctant to not have to deal with the over-bearing coffee guy in order to get coffee. Every time I go to the city I spend a lot of money... on food, beer, cigarettes, train tickets, gas to get down there, parking tickets, beer, bar keeper tips, drumsticks, friends beer sometimes... and I lose things like... Mike Kelly's t-shirt he let me borrow, my drum throne, my t-shirt, my camera (found), my sunglasses (found), my appetite, my mind, my health (briefly)... and other sappy things like that. But I love seeing Chipths get all exthsited over home made donuts, and playing the circle game with Dan, and eating Mike Underwoods cooking all weekend, and watching Reed Dance with a broom in a wig, and seeing an opera singer smoke cigarettes, and playing music for friends, and drinking beer and those kind of things. It's worth it. Sunday I felt like a pile of dirt. But now I'm already nostalgic about it. It seems we won't be playing a show for quite some time... as I head out to Franconia Minnesota for a few months, but maybe I'll post about other dumb shit that doesn't really relate to our band again like I used to. I like doing that too. Keep in touch. Cheers!

Scummertime

This is Chase. I don't write on this blog much, but the opportunity is always there. I much prefer to read Dane's posts. I guess I'm writing because I drank way too much iced coffee and at the moment have nothing much better to do with myself (which is probably bullshit, but this seems fulfilling, right?). Staring at a computer in 90 degree, sun-shiny weather. What could be better? Tomorrow, summer is here, officially. June 21st, the longest day of the year. National Quit-Your-Job Day, if you prefer. Remember being a kid and the onset of summer was dreamier than Roy Orbison's distant, enchanting voice? Me too... Summer VACATION. I don't think I've referred to it as that since before I had my first job, which was a long time ago. Vacation... Wouldn't it be nice to be on vacation all summer long? Travel the country, swim in a quarry somewhere in New Hampshire, bathe in a hot-spring in New Mexico, eat Tex-Mex in L.A., get lovingly shat on by a seagull in Venice Beach, crawl into Texas via Arizona in 100 degree weather, observe diaper piles on side of road, blare whatever CD you've listened to a thousand times before, but it doesn't matter-its something to ignore in the Hellish heat, swimming in sunflower-seed-ridden, minivan bench seats. Livin' the dream... Couldn't sleep last night. Nostalgia was fuckin' up my dreams. All of those old yet fresh memories of tour and similar journeys. At times I feel very land-locked in this city. Missing fresh water, cold creeks, clean air, spontaneity. But life ain't bad, ya know? Got to go to Maine this summer for two weeks and do a blacksmithing workshop. Swam in the Atlantic Ocean, cut my feet on barnacles. Doesn't get much better than that. Mike, Mike, Richelle, and possibly Dane are coming down to the big bad city this weekend. Free Ghostface concert in Prospect Park. Think I'm gonna quit my job today in pursuit of bigger and better things. Keep a warm heart. I certainly am. The heat is climbing quick, my garden is probably frying. I think its 105 degrees up on that roof. Come eat some tomatoes in the fall. Stay Hi.

L.N

Strange Days

...and Fast times. Relax and have a "beer" or a "light beer". That's what I've been doing. What a weird position to be in. To be done with school, and to be home. There's always things to do, but it's just different. You have to drive places, and find a way home, or sleep in peculiar spots, rather than being able to walk to your place after 15 or more genesee's and pass out in your small apartment bedroom. Even just those simple transitions would be enough to make one feel.... off. Yet, there's more. Strange, unfortunate things have been happening. Some of which don't call for this (or any) blog post. Although one event I do feel needs recognition here for whatever reasons. After a healthy game of stump, or nails (whatever floats your boat) at Mike Underwood's house on Saturday night, Mike Kelley basically lost the tip of his middle finger to the claw end of a hammer. I heard the sound, and saw the blood. The hammer was stuck a decent way into the log with his finger underneath it, just about where the bottom of your nail meets the rest of your finger. He didn't scream. As a matter of fact he didn't say anything the whole 30 minute car ride to the hospital except... "I'll never be able to play guitar again"... which was absolutely heart breaking... We all know he will... Granted he had been drinking a decent amount slowly all day, but still, what a fucking champion. He was even cracking jokes in the hospital with the nurses. When the doctor decided he was sober enough for a percocet I thought, "Hmm, I could use one too, doc". He spent the night there in an ugly green hospital gown and we made it home at about 4:30 a.m. Mike Underwood was asleep at the fire and hardly woke up. I took his spot and slept for about two hours. Then woke up to a huge snapping turtle about ten feet form me and could only think of Mike's fresh chickens. That night started with Ian and I arriving, and Mike Underwood being so excited he puked on Ian during their hugging embrace. Weird night... Funny, earlier that day Mike Kelley was complaining about the lack of blog post's lately. I didn't even know anybody read these. Thanks y'all. I think Mike likes them because his lifestyle is interesting enough to always have something to write about. A few days before that I got in a small accident hauling a trailer in my new truck. We were moving sculpture from Saratoga to Salem Art Works, (which I've posted about many times by now). No ones fault, especially not mine, had to slam on the brakes due to some idiot making us stop to tell us about a car on fire up the road. And I jack-knifed with the trailer. It sucked but the whole ordeal could have been waaaaaay worse, and I repaired the damage to almost as good as new. The idiot even stopped at my sideways car and told me about the burning vehicle... I could have popped his little fucking pinhead right-then-and-there. A few days before THAT, I had to bury my sisters dog, who had a very unfortunate death. R.I.P... I am sleeping in a somewhat large bed with my little brother Rudy. Yet he is more than somewhat large and this proves to be difficult. I plan to clean out the shack and move back in....

But, for some reason with all of this new free time I don't seem to have time to do anything. The power went out last night, all night, and it's still raining. I just want to be able to build some shelves in my living room so I can set my record player up and listen to some old Dean Martin, but I need it to not rain for that. For LOVESICK NOMADS Chase is doing a blacksmithing workshop at Haystack, a magical artist residency on an island in Maine. (copy paste http://www.haystack-mtn.org/index.php ) Dan is a receptionist at a doctors office or something and a professional beer drinker. Really though... I plan to make it down to BK before my trek to Franconia sculpture Park ( copy paste http://www.franconia.org/ ), and we will play some shows and hopefully get some more recording done. Sorry for the delay in a post, and for not having a picture of Mikes finger posted above, and for beating everyone who participated in the nails game so bad... AND I sure hope luck picks up. CHEERS!