Of the goals, this is certainly the easiest to pursue. I started with Six Feet Under, I’m about done with the first season (of five), and it’s good. It’s smart, dark, dry — all the things I aspire to be (well, dry in the sense of dry humor, anyway). I don’t know how I feel about watching 63 episodes of it, but I’m sure I can if it doesn’t get too ridiculous like the last television obsession (Alias) did. I love when the story splits off from reality and becomes ridiculous and fantastical, only to shift back to real life. I hate the opening of each show, though, where you know someone’s going to die and you just have to sit through it. Also, “Billy” is a total creep.
I have made no progress on the photographs of myself goal. It’s hard to make yourself do something that you don’t really want to do, and that doesn’t really matter. All things considered, do I need a stack (or file full) of photos of myself? No.
Want to see some good photos, though? The New York Times published a piece on Crestone, Colorado today (check out the slide show if nothing else). It’s across the Valley from my hometown, and honestly, I’ve never been there (it was kind of (more than kind of) known as the hippie hangout, and I just never made it out there. Eventually I want to head over there to eat, if nothing else (one of the pictures shows a really delicious-looking menu). The stars, the landscape — that part of it I know.
Oh also (I thought I had nothing to write about tonight, but I definitely do), at work I’m starting on this big project to catalog a bunch of concert posters from the 60s and 70s for a class next term on “The Art of Rock and Roll” (which will be taught by the shoes-optional medievalist) — it’s been pretty fun. To put myself in the mood I’m streaming full concerts online from Wolfgang’s Concert Vault. The recordings are much, much higher-quality than I would have expected (I don’t know why I have such low expectations for something done in the 1960s when people used actual recording equipment instead of their cell phones). Anyway — it’s a good time, and a nice change from western American art and Asian art (which I like, don’t get me wrong). Favorite of the day: The Byrds.