FundamentallySound Blog

I'm moving. Lee and I are getting a studio in lower Nob Hill.

The landlord is a Quentin Crisp-like character who immigrated from Russia. He speaks with a slight lisp and asks strangely personal questions.

The building is from the 1920's, one of those apartment buildings for sailors on leave. Nowadays, in San Francisco, you can't tell who's a real sailor and who has a uniform fetish. Well, that was probably always the case in this city.

I have no idea what the word home means, I just know I haven't been there. But now I'm really into the idea of it. I'm going to make sound installations for different corners of the house, say like tiny microphones installed in a vase that activate a micro-soundscape when you speak into it. I've got an old Powerbook I can set up in the closet to run SuperCollider all the time.

Thinking of sound installations for your home is a completely different process than than planning something for a gallery. I mean, for fuck's sake, you have to live with it.