This annoying photo becomes hillarious when you read the interventions.
Click for a better view. The neighborhood's not gone yet...
I was sitting in Oslo [Northside] this afternoon working on the next installment of my Jeremy Blake remembrance when I overheard a conversation that was so Williamsburg, I just had to blog it.
The guy behind the counter has a friend who is an acupuncturist who sometimes uses harmonic tones with her needles. It makes perfect sense to me: I’ve spent my share of hours on the rehab table with an ultrasound wand on my arches or calves. Sound penetrates and loosens things up even better than a massage in some cases. I could imagine that the extremely targeted approach of acupuncture, combined with harmonics’ proven chemistry-altering properties could do wonders. There’s a whole literature on the practice.
Then he got to wondering about what you could do with a three-part bluegrass harmony, combined with acupuncture. The possibilities seem limitless right? Definitely spiritual if we’re talking Bill Monroe. I wouldn’t want to try his idea though: Gillian Welch. Sounds like a swift road to depression, or worse!
That kind of free-flowing and wide-ranging conversation almost makes me want to go back to being a barista. The good thing about living in Williamsburg is that chatter is always available without the appallingly low wages, scalding water, and early hours.
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