Rocco's Blog 10/21/08

Style is alive and well on this side of town-

Rocco's Blog 8/28/08

We can see for miles in the twilight. A man crosses the streets and reveals how far it reaches. We watch the dance of shadow and street. I'm lucky to see it. I won't take it for granted anymore. Emerson wrote, "If the stars should appear but one night every thousand years how man would marvel." Stars do not shine so brightly within Los Angeles. We are too much with our own lights. This is not the great sky of Sangre de Cristo or Joshua Tree. So I wait for the magic hour. I wait for the passing, the change. I try to recognize it when it comes. That is our gift.

Rocco's Blog 8/9/08

This is an active time amongst the passionate people. I see it swelling in the nooks of the city. Bright, bright, bright. Soon I will be in the bay area again with as little as I can carry. That sounds nice. Three cheers to the architects, poets, and the makers of freshly squeezed orange juice. A kiss on the cheek to those who dared to kiss the angels last night. A warm hug to those who need it and to those who don’t.

Rocco's Blog 7/21/08

Up and down the streets of Sunset these kids were skating. They noticed I had a camera and decided to tell me that I would be a fool not to document. One had even told me that I would be so sorry that I would have to beg forgiveness from the Virgin Mary herself… I didn't want that on my head.

Rocco's Blog 7/02/08

Thanks again to Atlanta for one of the best nights in my life.

ROCCO'S BLOG 6/6/08

Idealism is a tricky thing; it usually contains hope and light but often fails in the depths of instinct within the human mind and heart.
A neighborhood carpenter gave me a book called "Unto this Last," by John Ruskin. I took it to a local coffee shop and read it. I have now been idealistic for three straight days!

ROCCO'S BLOG 5/20/08

The day was hot. This man was pulling items from his truck to sell them. He placed them against the wall. I was walking towards him but I didn't purchase anything. I said hello and walked down to the corner to meet with a person who claimed to have every recording by Alan Lomax. He had quite a few, but so did I. Then we talked about earthquakes in China, how saddened and removed we both felt. Our conclusion was that we suffer across the world, in our backyards, and in our own skin. Enough.

He played me one of my favorite records by the Staple Singers and I asked him,” Would anybody today care enough to make a record that raw and beautiful?"
He told me, "yes, but in a different form."
Fair enough I thought to myself, “but I still love this fucking record."
He asked, "Why do you think it is we could love a piece of vinyl so much?”
I told him, "Because it reminds us of something better."