Hey

Chase writing.  Been a long while.  Something is bothering me this afternoon.  I really feel I need to write about it and want others to read.  It kind of always bothers me, but it was brought to fruition today.  Here it is-

We will all be disappointed one day when we look back at our lives and realize that 75% or more of our conscious time on Planet Earth was consumed and distracted by a virtual reality.  Basically, try to put your iPhones, or whatever new, mini-computer you have, down for 5 minutes.  I know you can do it!!

Let me just say, too, that usually I would feel like an asshole posting this, because I never ever get into this type of preachy bullshit, and I hate when other people do it and act like they know everything and have "the answer".  But right now I don't really care about that.  I want to be honest, I just hope I don't sound patronizing.  I am also not saying that I don't spend a lot of minutes on my phone or on facebook.  Everybody does.  It's just the way the world works.  But I certainly don't have my cell phone next to my nuts all of the time because there's no way it isn't shooting weird cellular waves into my balls and slowly giving me testicular cancer.

What's really irritating is that the world can obviously work just as fine without someone posting a picture of their drive to work while wearing a pouty face because they hate their new job and want to tell everyone.  I'd like to say I care, but I actually don't.  I won't pity you because of your shitty job.  I got kind of sick to my stomach the other day when I saw a commercial on a flat screen t.v. in the bar for some cell phone thingy.  It was loved ones and family documenting EVERYTHING they do on their phones and immediately posting it on whatever.  Having a romantic kiss, getting engaged, laying in bed together, eating a meal, etc.  Is that weird to anyone else?  Doesn't it distract you from the already beautiful moment?  "Will you marry me?"  "Oh my god, yes!!" "Wait, wait, baby.  It didn't take the photo.  Let's do that again.  Aw fuck, this piece of shit cell phone."  Uhp...and there you go.  Idiot.  You ruined it.  Sorry, you can't re-create most moments.  Neither can your phone.

The worst of it all is this: I get sad when I'm spending time with those dearest to me (some of whom I haven't seen in years) and they can't get their nose out of there cell phones and have a real, uninterrupted conversation.  How offensive is that shit?  Damn.  Bring yourselves back to reality.  You won't regret it, I promise.  There's nothing wrong with contacting friends and sharing your thoughts, thats the beauty of facebook, remember?!  It's an amazing tool.  But when you abuse a tool it either breaks or starts working against you.

I love getting letters, don't you?  They are so much more genuine and involved.  I'm always amazed at what is up inside my head when I start using my hand.  The most powerful tool combination is the head and the hand.  Music and visual art are extremely good for everyone's psyche and mental happiness.  Hence why this band, Lovesick Nomads-although non-functioning at the time-will always be alive in my heart and soul.  Some of my best memories were shared with this band.

And not everything needs to happen so fast.  Snail mail is still the biggest messaging miracle, to me.  Because it is a historic form of technology.  Snail mail was, at one time, extremely advanced technology!  My text message to you goes to SPACE and comes back down to your phone in a matter of seconds!!  Big deal.  I'll never understand it, really, so it's amazing.  But at the same time, big freaking deal.  Did you know the universe is 13.8 billion years old?  Sorry it took me so long to respond to your text...

A letter I send travels possibly around the world to reach you and it (usually) doesn't get lost!!  That little tiny envelope!  And sometimes it's not even bent!  (I don't know about you, but I've gotten some bent text messages before).  That's some wonderful care taken on the USPS's part!  And I know, the post office "sucks," or "they're so slow," or "they lost my package" or "it smells like old people" pfft safsdhfbjkn.  Don't be a weenie.  

The United States Postal Service is down billions of dollars.  Let's help them out, no?  It will really suck when you finally want to send a letter and you can't!  A stamp is barely 50 cents.  My mailing address is Salem Art Works, 19 Cary Lane, Salem, N.Y. 12865.  Go for a walk and buy a stamp.  It feels good and it helps me remember what love is.  That is all.  Cheers!

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