14. The Edge of Sunrise Market
Twins riding one unicycle wobble past you, cobblestones underwheel.
You stand where city gardens end. Oak trees form a tall oval opening, framing a street fair bustling with commotion. Market stalls parade into the far distance, towards overlapping arched pedestrian bridges, the glow of rose-colored bricks under afternoon sun.
The smell of an entire royal banquet on the grill cuts through the hubbub, summoning your attention as surely as a tapping on the nose. ROASTED RADISHES – ’STONISHING SPICES – ENCHANTING EFFECTS reads a stenciled sign.
[ Make for the radish vendor ] —
As you step onto the street, your awareness of time e x p a n d s.
All motion slows to a drawl, including your own.
Your thoughts stay fast — actually quicken.
Worlds of detail unfurl around you. Shapes, trajectories, every direction a discovery — as though a new dimension were superimposed: a black-and-white universe now flushed with color.
Though your eyes remain fixed ahead, elements in your periphery clamor for your focus. You notice a kite flirting with tree branches still wet from noon rains. A child in mid-guffaw next to a friend reading a pamphlet aloud. Flames from a bread-oven, spilling out skyward, slowly as a summer daydream, their mesmerizing tango of minute fractal curlicues.
Time atomized into fine mists reveals the inevitable. Drifting smoke, the elegant long curve of a juggled ball, hot cocoa poured into a carafe — one after another, impossibly voluptuous.
// Side B //
// note: there is a gift announcement a couple sections down 💌 //
Thank you for tuning in — that was “a midsummer night’s dream at henley hall”, a song composed + recorded last week after watching Dead Poets Society (1989), titled after its Shakespeare-within-the-movie. In the spirit of welcoming all hot takes, lukewarm side-eyes, and ice-cold assassinations, here’s a quick roundup of recent media with current, totally subjective marks1. Everyone’s invited to chime in via comments and notes.
Ocean Vuong — On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous // A+
Dead Poets Society (1989) // A
Lupin (2021) // B+
Madison Cunningham — Love, Lose, Remember // A
Sissoko Segal Parisien Peirani — Les Égarés (live) // A
D’Angelo — Voodoo // A+
Sex Education, Season 4 (2023) // B-
Cat Power Sings Dylan: The 1966 Royal Albert Hall // B
Final Fantasy XVII // B-
Hania Rani — Ghosts Album Launch (youtube video) // A
Bobby Timmons — Holiday Soul // A
André 3000 — New Blue Sun // AThat time when I front-ran everyone’s end-of-2023 reflections was . . . the beginning of November. You thought Mariah Carey was early! If you’re curious how Year Three of being an independent recording artist went, peep twitter / instagram / facebook for a tally of highlights and heartfelt thank yous 💜.
(A special note of gratitude to
and , who write Very Effervescent substack publications and both of whom contributed so meaningfully to this year’s list of happenings.)I’m fascinated by the fact that it’s at the tail of Y3, or is it Y13 — a decade of playing, plus thirty-three months into this new career — that I see the mission. In short, I used to think that making art was the work; now I believe I was wrong.
Making art is not really the work at all.
Prepping the conditions for art to appear + overseeing what arrives, are still just half of the work.
Dear friend and keen tastemaker
interviewed me about that half for a 100-minute podcast episode on For a Living. I love Daniel’s attunement and erudition; it’s my favorite recorded discussion I’ve ever been a part of. Our conversation came out in May — before I learned about the latter half of the work (a brand-new ball of wax to be ongoingly unraveled before you2) — hence, I’ve barely mentioned it anywhere.
I’ll attach the interview audio now (tho I recommend fetching the episode however you listen to podcasts: you’ll see show-notes and the delightful romp of a companion music-poetry piece (“Each Petal a Portal”) composed by Daniel Lazar and Brian Trahan) —
There’s a written transcript too, if you fancy.
Last spring I played a live, improvised concert called The Awakening. It’s now mixed and I’d love to gift a copy to all subscribers to Campfire Sparks, both free + pledged, snapshot taken at the end of this month. 70 minutes of exploratory grooves, cut into 11 tracks, quirky enough for holiday gatherings yet contemplative enough for scribbling then crossing out New Year’s resolutions to.
The giveaway will be in the form of download codes, which effectively allow you to gift the album by semaphoring a friend about signing up ☃️.
The first “TV show”3 on Substack (also by Substack) is out! Fellow LABELABEL co-president
— a.k.a., The One Who Hatches Dastardly Plans — tapped multi-talented folk (and this publication) for inclusion in this first of an at-least-three-part series. Watch and read about it here, late night snacks required:
🍿
Passing grades for all signal that I abandon stuff quickly when the experience isn’t resonating with me; would you recommend I ride the ambivalence dragon more often?
I am loving your reflections and grateful, indeed giddy, to be in your orbit. Big hugs, Eric Pan!
Hey Eric! You're writing is a stroke of a paintbrush. Deliberate and precise. I really enjoyed it.
Your music is magical as well. It enhanced the experience for sure.
I do a similar thing with grading the media I consume (though I do tend to stick around until the end even if it's bad).
I don't watch many shows or movies these days though.