My favorite song, from my favorite album of 2013 (which happens to have been recorded in my favorite place, Iceland), by one of my favorite artists, John Grant.

I, too, wish I had heard a song like this as I grew up. A glimpse of history and a testament to how far things have progressed. While there’s a great distance still to travel, I never expected we would come so far during my lifetime.

(Video premiered today in The Guardian.)

This little girl wins Christmas. Merry, happy h-x-kw to you and yours.

(originally seen on HuffPo.)

Heading offline for the National Day of Unplugging.

Do you have multiple cell phones? Take your ipad to the beach on vacation? Ever find it hard to get through a conversation without posting an update to Facebook? Is your computer always on?

We increasingly miss out on the important moments of our lives as we pass the hours with our noses buried in our iPhones and BlackBerry’s, chronicling our every move through Facebook and Twitter and shielding ourselves from the outside world with the bubble of “silence” that our earphones create.

If you recognize that in yourself – or your friends, families or colleagues— join us for the National Day of Unplugging, sign the Unplug pledge and start living a different life: connect with the people in your street, neighborhood and city, have an uninterrupted meal or read a book to your child.

The National Day of Unplugging is a 24 hour period – running from sunset to sunset – and starts on the first Friday in March. The project is an outgrowth of The Sabbath Manifesto, an adaption of our ancestors’ ritual of carving out one day per week to unwind, unplug, relax, reflect, get outdoors, and connect with loved ones.

See you tomorrow.

When I don’t have the time or energy or ideas to type here, I often put up an image or a video. Forget about a two-minute distraction. How about an hour-long concert of my favorite one-man band from Toronto in Paris?

Enjoy the relentless beauty, creative precision, and fusion of classic instrument and modern technology of Owen Pallett.

“As if broken bones hurt more than the names we got called, and we got called them all…”

Thank you, Shane Koyczan.

Last night I stayed up past midnight, ironing dress shirts, both mine and his. It feels productive, useful and has a beginning and an end.

This morning I listened to this live version of a The xx’s song three or four times in a row (the first one). I may have posted it last year when it came out. I want to take a bath in the trembling desire it contains.

(from NPR’s Tiny Desk Concerts)

Wish I had a third point to make. (Pardon the non sequitur nature of this.) This will have to suffice: I’ve entertained the idea of road-tripping it up to Madrona in Tacoma this weekend. Probably won’t, but it’s might have been a kooky adventure.

With all of my thinking and listening to Dar Williams over the past few days, I wanted to share one of my favorites. This live recording of her song “February” gives you a snippet of her charming patter between songs.

When I first heard this song, I loved it for the storytelling, never imagining its ache would one day echo mine. (Ah, hindsight, and foolish youth.) Not a traditional love song, not a break-up song despite it being the subject, just a love-lost song with simple, painful metaphors that hit me like a truck. This is one of the reasons I earned my nickname at her shows of Sobbing Queer Boy.

Even if you aren’t in the Northeast and digging out of the snowstorm, here’s to warmth and surviving the longest-shortest, darkest and coldest month called February. Spring will come.

(edited to add the video of the song “February“)

… put them in sweaters.

It was as if a hex(-agon) shaped my day. I was going to try an angled picture of pizza I made for this post. Then, type into this box about how all I ate today were round, circular foods. But I didn’t want to fall into the trapezoid of geometric word games.

No, that would be square.

A little blog housecleaning on the template this morning. Twitter changed their widget badge stuff back in September, making my feed disappear from the sidebar. After a little fiddling, I have it back over there on the left. It’s a smidge more interactive. If you’re signed into Twitter, you can reply right there. You can also peek at photos within the widget itself. Oh, technology.

In order to get it installed, I had to change the width of the page and percentages of the main body to the sidebar. If things look wonky, would you let me know? Tell me how you’re looking at the site too (what browser, phone or computer, mobile or full site).

Thanks a bunch. See you next post.