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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon



delivering an Addair original


blogging to you from my favorite hostel


james, dustin, levon


Just days away from the release of my CD, New York City spanks Levon Walker, I decided to revisit the spanking and observe how I’ve been putting things in my head during the time since.  We’ve already loaded up the Corolla again at the beach and are finishing up our last few days at our part time jobs before we leave.  The ocean most excellently served as our consistent backdrop for daydreaming since the farm and since Manhattan.  We’re on our way to Mexico for the spring.

Going back to the city sent my head spinning.  In the five days we were there last week, I walked the streets day and night while replaying my earlier attempt to call it home.  As soon as I crammed on the first busy subway and heard “Stand clear of the closing doors,” it felt as though I had never left.

But I will resist writing that essay today.  My upcoming CD is how I really wanted to say everything, though I’ll leave you with a journal fragment for the time being:

11/21/09 NY Loft Hostel, Bushwick Brooklyn

… I also feel in a way that this is still my city.  It is the way I left it, bursting full of busy people whom I can join or not join freely.  Because the city holds the energy and not me, I am always where I left off.  Feeling and realizing.  Bravely hoping, stimulated, stiffly aware that I am small.  These familiar feelings make be feel both at home and not.


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