Crafting original cocktails is simultaneously the most exciting and the most daunting part of this mixology hobby I’ve adopted. When you create a successful new drink – or even just a clever variation on an existing one – you can taste the synergy and magic almost right away. But, unfortunately, I’m as often (or probably more often) surprised when a drink which in my head blends together great flavors, on actual execution, simply falls flat.
Practice. Practice. Practice. Continue reading
NOTE: Because this review is so long, I’ve split it into two posts. This is Part 2. Part 1 is available here.
Where was I? Oh yeah, lots of memorable concerts this year…
Rogue Wave – August 6 @ Hard Rock Café, Chicago
“Hi. We’re Rogue Wave and this is the strangest show we’ve ever done.” Continue reading
NOTE: Because this review is so long, I’ve split it into two posts. This is Part 1. Part 2 is available here.
After my interest in live music blew up last year, I began keeping track of all the acts I was seeing. Dates, venues and ticket prices all dutifully went into my files. Now as 2010 comes to a close, I thought it would be fun to sit down and look a little closer at the numbers; now I have quantitative proof that this was a great year for music! Thankfully, when I counted it all up, I didn’t actually spend as much money on concerts in 2010 as I thought I did. In total, it was only about as much as a new laptop, and looking back, I think it was money well spent. Continue reading
Scott Hutchinson of Frightened Rabbit (picture via "rokbun - Scotland's Live Music")
I had chills this morning, and they weren’t because of Chicago’s unseasonable frost warning. They came, instead, from listening to “Poke” off the 2008 album Midnight Organ Fight from Scottish indie-rockers Frightened Rabbit. The album is a colossal breakup album with songs that swing funny, angsty, defiant and, in the case of “Poke,” downright movingly sad. Continue reading
I was seated on the shore of Lake Michigan, perched on a rock with the lapping water just a few feet away. There was little wind and so the waves crested only when reaching the shore and I had a gentle rhythm lulling me into thought. My mind wandered to Edvard Munch’s Melancholy and I felt myself there. Perched with head in hands, I longed to find something to focus on. The trees in the distance; a wavering, dusk-shrouded building in a far-off city further down the coast; the details of the rocks beneath my feet.
Filed under Art, Personal