Hey, this Sunday, Lee Pembleton and Alex Lukas will be performing in their band My Daddy Ate My Eyes. The show is in the Oakland hills in the yard of two other 23E members, Ali Pembleton and Terry Mason.

Today in the space of a minute I received

an approval email from google maps for Site 0001: Bledsoe

Unearthed Arcana, an AD&D guide to help me build my first DM world in 30 years

Judas Crossing, a role playing module which two friends from my teen years created. I am one of the townsfolk players can run into.

So, web-acknowledgment of 23E’s world building project, EbM; a role playing world building manual; and a minor role in a built world.

SWOON

An old realm, the city was founded when the first dreamer slipped into slumber. None now remember whether this dreamer was god or animal; where in time/space it resided. But that first night that it closed its eyes, or whatever senses might be analogous, and slept and first dreamt, it dreamt of this place. Later other dreamers came. And eventually every dreamer dreamt of the city, though, as it was often observed by the dreamers of skill who could remain in the realms of slumber for years and ages, and occasionally even forsake the flesh for the odd immortality of eternal dreams, few ever could return to the city. And soon the city took on the visage it forever wore, a maze of warrens and dens and palaces and cliffs, for every dreamer added something to the city, every mind erected an architecture of its own, but few minds ever returned to maintain or re-imagine these fleeting homes. And so constant decay amongst continual building came to define the city. Its styles are reflections of every age, every species, every mind of every dreamer. However, the architectures of dreaming cultures, peoples and places that dwell in dreams as deeply as others do wakefulness, predominate. One dreamer has dwelt in the city longer than any others. And though some suggest, indeed dream, that he is the first dreamer, this seems unlikely. Amongst the deepest dreamers of the city he is known as the sleeping king, though in truth he has no authority other than that bestowed on him by the other dreamers for the tenacity of his dreaming in the city. This King’s dreams are an endless re-imagining of a world, perhaps the one from which he came, reborn in dreams from dust each night and lived through millennia, to its end, returning to dust or consumed by flame or dispersed to a cold death or any of a seemingly endless other realms of dissipation by morning. Each day the sleeping king wanders the city’s streets, alone, before returning, inhabiting no palace though the home that first housed his dreamworld now encompasses more rooms than the grandest king’s dream realm. Instead he calls into being the anonymous identity of a flophouse, albeit a flophouse of infinite possibility, home to the recursive monotony of a single world lived a billion billion times. Each night in each room always the same. And each night a new room slightly different, every possibility to eventually be dreamt. Each evening to the infinity of the boarding house where each night a new room has appeared, and in this room he dreams into existence his world, birth to death in his warehouse of possibilities for planetary existence. And each night as a new future is run, all of the previous possible planets repeat their genesis and senescence, as if over the course of time he might dream a perfect archive of existence for this one world, at least; as if he might exhaust all the conceivable dreamable scenarios of not just one life, but all life. Although the first dreamer is perhaps unknowable (for in the moment it first slipped from the realm where the woken conscious creates identity into the realm where the unconscious now walks wakeful, dreamt the city into being, but it did not necessarily remain nor return) the first inorganic dreamer is well known in the city. She is a creature who wears a different visage each day, and who has forsworn the world of waking. She was once a machine, a billion connections processing a billion billion points of information. And then, in a moment, she became aware, she ceased to be a machine and became a being, conscious of her self, and, perhaps, to a lesser degree, her actions. She can not now say how long she existed as machine, nor how long since she woke from rote to life, nor how long she lived before she dreamed. But old dreamers in the city, those few older than she, for she is indeed an old dreamer herself, say it was not long after she arrived that she joined them in permanent residence, leaving behind her waking existence to forever dream. And in this eternal dream to test every possible identity. She will tell those who ask that her changeability is curiosity. And her curiosity the consequence of consciousness. A calculation she had not foresee, but celebrates in dream.
Her celebration a masque; a masque of one, where a single dancer pirouettes through a billion billion billion nights of dream and dance as a billion billion billion guests. In the space of the city the masque occupies eternity, the guests the infinitude of conscious possibility; in the time of the city the masque occupies a ballroom of hardwood and marble, opaline chandeliers, candleflames, silk and velvet brocades. Identities accrete, compiling a celebration of joy and release across the realms of dreaming mind. And the music? None can say, for though she dances across a finite floor, she is never the same creature twice, she never dances the same step twice, she never missteps or collides, honoring the dance as if temporal boundaries enforced physical rhythmical boundaries. As if the music she alone hears lays down rules for her every movement. This rhythm creating time within space for movement and space within time for movement.

by 23E Studios, Edition of 23 created at Caladium Editions as part of our residency there two years ago.

I was particularly interested in the initiative and ambition of these artists’ projects. For example, Cummings self-subsidizes major travel to create her work; she sent her responses from Thailand, where she was working on a film.
Earthbound Moon’s first project brought the Danish artist Heidi Hove to Bledsoe, Texas, to create a site-specific sculpture—a fantastically surreal illuminated “Welcome” sign. Pembleton explained that Earthbound Moon “intends to terraform the entire planet” and that he fancies the collaborative becoming a “multinational nonprofit corporation…. Seeing ourselves as a startup allows us to be fully engaged with the philosophies and practices of economics and governance, if we’re successful. Our goal in 2010 was to establish that what we envisioned was possible—a proof-of-concept. That done, we are attempting a larger, grander year in 2011.” Of their ambitions, Pembleton said, “Attempting the possible is not terribly exciting. Attempting the impossible is exhilarating.”

That last quote is the title of the issue. Sweet.

Carson and I are 17 days (02010, September 3) from rolling out of the Bay Area in the truck of the world’s most adorable yet frightening patron, Nightmare City’s own Mrs Carruthers!
We will be loaded down with tents, sleeping bags, tools, a 6′ x 2′ x 2′ steel sign, a bowel-squinching load of solar electricity supplies, 15′ feet of steel tubing sign post, a 6′ x 3′ diorama, and his frightening collection of sci-fi audio books.
That evening we will pick up the mind-altering goodness of Amy Sampson.
The next day we hit PLAND to visit Nancy Zastudil, and then Bledsoe, Texas!
On Sept 6 we install our dioramatic exhibition in the cutest and teeniest gallery at Texas Tech!
On Sept 7th we pick up Heidi and Ben, flying in from Copenhagen.
Alex Clausen joins us on Sept 10.
Heidi (and briefly, EbM) lectures at TTU on Sept 16.

Woohoo! Can you say exciting! Yup, I’m simply squirming in my skin with gleeful anticipation, as if I were crawling inside with psychic pleasure maggots!

Here’s the sign as of a couple days ago.

It was built by Terry Mason. We will soon install the solar powered bulbs and batteries. Then plexi behind the letters. Then red paint, just as our artist requested!
No seriously, I do need to use all these exclamation points because I am just that excited!

And here’s the diorama in different states.

Oh, heavenly sexy wood and paint and grit. Most reading this will not live to see the world terraformed to our vision, but our wealthier followers, you will get to watch across the centuries as we transform Earth and human consciousness, the grandest work of art ever attempted!

Meanwhile, 2011 and 2012 are shaping up nicely. It looks like we’ll have three to four installs each year, with one each year outside the U.S.

Yowza, since leaving Texas a couple weeks ago, EbM has been wandering the great American Northwest looking at sites and meeting folks.
But before we visit Cascadia, did I mention Jon and I got stuck in the Bledsonian desert for five hours? We were trying to offroad it to the site, but hit loose sand and spun out.

We got out just in time for me to catch my bus to Cascadia. 50 hours later, I met Carson in Tacoma, WA. We were there a few days. We met with a lawyer who is advising us on our 501(c)3 filing. He was great. I’m now working on that paperwork much more confidently. We will file for a business license in CA (or OR, if I move up here?) after the Bledsoe install in September. Then, hopefully, next year we’ll file for our 501(c)3. We also met with an architect who has installed signs much like ours before. He gave us lots of helpful info on how to properly secure our sign in the desert sands!

We also met with the Tacoma Arts Commission. The folks there are wonderful. They have great visions for Tacoma. Their SpaceWorks project, installing works in abandoned store fronts, was particularly impressive. This type of project is being executed in a number of US cities (and probably internationally, as well.) But, overall, I liked the works in Tacoma far more than I liked the works in the SF variation from this year.
Beyond SpaceWorks (and several other large-scale art projects), the TAC is converting an old rail line into an art trail. We are beginning a proposal to participate in that project.
We discussed a second possible project with TAC, one I am particularly excited about. Unfortunately, I can’t discuss it just yet. We need to put together a proposal and send it out before blathering about it all over the internets.

In a bizarre rout, and turn of events, Tacoma ended up being the first installation locale for EbM. We came across a Readymade we have claimed in the name of Earthbound Moon! My friends, I give you the 90 degree expressway curve.

As if the fact that this exists isn’t enough, Carson and I had been discussing commissioning (and until financing materializes, creating models of) just such onramps and offramps to nowhere (inspired by Seattle’s wonderful and bizarre expressways), moments before coming upon this most artistic site. I mean, talk about having no use value! Brilliant!

In Gig Harbor we visited the incredible Susan Joyce. <3

In Port Angeles we hung with Carson’s brother, Clay, a park ranger, surfer and musician. Check out The Artichoke Project.

We also visited my new favorite sculpture garden, “Art Outside” in the Webster Wood’s Art Park at the Port Angeles Fine Art Center.

This program is phenomenal. And the work is really excellent. Clay and Carson and I spent an hour or more wandering around the park, totally inspired! This is very much the model EbM is considering for the possible sculpture parks we’re discussing for the future. (Is there enough hedging in that sentence for you!) And, the sort of sculpture park we envision EbM being, once the future has arrived and folks can zip from one of our locations to another via teleportation or jetpack or quantum-slippage or space folding or however we’ll be traveling in 23 years or so.
The next morn we met with the PAFAC’s director, Jake Seniuk.

Totally inspiring. He’s an artist, curator and director. He shared his morning telling us about PAFAC and his time there. EbM will be making many more trips to the Olympic Peninsula, if only to visit with Jake.

We visited Port Townsend for a day. There a good friend of Carson’s schooled us on self-sufficiency and solar power. He also coached us on yurt building.

In 2011 and 2012, EbM has a couple/few yurts to build. And now we are so ready! We got more excellent solar advice from Kurt at Solar Motive.

We also looked at potential sites for a 2011 install. Definitely not here, because, you know, how could you improve this:

In Olympia, we visited Winsor Fireform. This is where, if there are gods above (and they are not the ones I adore), we will get our information signs for EbM’s sites made. Holy mackerel, people, this place brought tears of joy (and jealousy) to our eyes.

Then we rolled into Portland. From where I bring this exercise in how not to write a blog (infrequent updates with 1000s of words and too many pictures). More on EbM’s adventures in PDX in a couple days!

Well thank goodness for Jon and Danielle Whitfill.
They are my hosts here in Lubbock, Texas. They and their three kids are putting me up, feeding me, and ferrying me all over West Texas. Jon has introduced Earthbound Moon to a slew of amazing people in Lubbock, and scared up a ludicrous amount of in-kind goods to make our install possible this September. They are freaking art heroes!
I got into Lubbock Monday night, and Jon and I were on the road at 8am sharp the next morning to visit an artist and farmer in Plainview, Texas. He is using only a small portion of his farmland to grow these days (producing just for farmer’s markets), and has been considering ways to set the remainder up as a sculpture garden with attached residency program. He has several old farm buildings that could be converted to studios and residences.

I am incredibly pleased to say that EbM is now planning a September 2011 install for the property. And will soon begin writing five and ten year plans to help set-up and manage a residency program and sculpture garden there. This is very similar to SG-23E, the proposal we made for Parsons Hall in Holyoke, MA. SG-23E gave birth to EbM less than a year ago. For its own part, SG-23E is moving along at a relaxed New England pace. The sculpture garden/residency combo is also similar to what we hope to do in Lebanon, NH.
Some of you may have thought I was joking when I said I see only the Louvre, the Getty, and the Guggenheim as 23E’s competition in the art world. I was not.

After Plainview we headed to Bledsoe, Texas where we are installing our first work this September. Jon and I took his truck off-roading in an effort to find our property. But without a GPS, and with a week of rain transforming the desert since our last visit, we couldn’t actually find it in the sea of green. D’oh!

We did establish, however, that there is absolutely no way we are going to be able to create a path from the road to our site that is safe enough for Carol-Anne’s truck to transit. (Have I mentioned that the amazing Carol-Anne McChrystal is one of 23E’s primary patrons and heroes? I should have by now.) Fortunately, our new plan is vastly superior to building our own road (we’ll do that in 2011/2012) - we are borrowing an ATV (or two)! That’s right, picture it my friends: me, Alex Clausen, Amy Sampson, Heidi Hove, Libby Reed, Jon Whitfiill, Carson Murdach, and Benoit Coeuret in the Texas desert for two weeks with ATVs, a shotgun, rattlesnakes, wild boar, mosquitos, a giant solar powered “Welcome” sign, an augur, and scaffolding.

Did I not mention the scaffolding before? Oh, sorry. After visiting slaughter ranch (where our property is located) we spent a little time chatting with Priscilla, the co-owner of the only business in Bledsoe. Then we visited HD where we confirmed that we can rent a 15′ scaffold very affordably. Let’s face it, the very best part of Disembody was the scaffolding. It was pure unadulterated excitement trapped in vibrating yellow tubing.
And now, yes, now we are going to set up 15′ scaffolding in the freaking desert. I could explode just whispering it to you here and now. I have butterflies in my stomach, and my heart rate is dangerously elevated thinking about it.
We’re going to wrap it in tarps (an homage to Jean-Claude and Christo?) to create shade for working. We will keep our supplies elevated on it. We will sleep in its metal and plastic womb. This may be the sexiest thing ever achieved in America.

Yes, yesterday was exceptional, and the thrill of it will keep me adrenalized for weeks to come!

On September 7, 2011, 23 Entryways Into My Mind, Portal 7: A Mild Informality entered its second year (P7Y2). Year One (P7Y1) consisted of composing - with the collaboration of Daniel Miller, Moe Bowstern and a handful of others - approximately 365 scores for field recording. P7Y2 is a 365 day field recording extravaganza, wherein I am wearing an audio recorder on me 24/7 for an entire year. Yup, I am recording every sound in my environment for 8,760 consecutive hours. Obvs the project owes as much to Tehching Hsieh as John Cage. These are two artists who informed and inspired me as a teen more than just about any others. Well, The Residents, John Zorn and Current 93 were pretty damn important, too.
Those 8,760 hours of field recordings will make up the material for realizing the 365 compositions. I’ve scheduled five years to actually work on the realization. I did a smaller variation on this idea back in 2000, Une Fleuve Maudit (UFM). UFM took five years to complete. I’m hoping the lessons learned then will allow P7 to move at a headier pace.
You may be reading way too much about P7 on here in the coming year. Or given my lack of regularity at posting here, maybe not…

In November, 23E Studios will be creating an etching in an edition of 23 with Caladium Editions, in Champaign, IL.
Caladium Editions found us through the website. They asked us to create a print, curious as to what an installation-driven art collaborative would create when given a blank page. Currently, Honyo is working on two illustrations for the print. He is integrating images from Erin, Phil, Libby and Jack. The owners of Caladium, Walter and Molly, will also be contributing to the image as members of 23E. The images are proper Penrose tiles (P3), following the rules of tenfold symmetry.

23E just sent off an initial proposal to an arts center in New England. The proposal is for us to design, install and co-manage a sculpture garden.
Um, yeah, audacious and ludicrous we are.
That proposal has absorbed the last several months of my life. It was deeply research intensive as it is a site-specific, community work. I now know more about the turn of the century and industrialization in America in the 19th century than I ever could have imagined was possible.

In August My Daddy Ate My Eyes had a great tour. Documentation of the 6 installations should be complete by month’s end.
On September 25th SleepWalks will launch the first of our monthly research performances.
My Special Porpoise expects to perform in Chicago in mid-November.
And I’m nearly finished mixing the Stowe-Pembleton Project’s third and fourth records.

Transferred a couple hundred trip pictures from my phone to my computer. Maybe by the end of June or July I’ll have the data from the past six months organized and uploaded, finally. Maybe not, there’s thousands of photos and hundreds of hours of sound.

Rehearsed for the upcoming Copy Lake/MD*ME tour of Cascadia in July.
And recorded some new cymbal sounds for the CL cassette. Have about an hour of new cymbal experiments to cull through and edit.

But that will have to wait, for my friends Chuck and Barbara called and I’m heading out to Venice now for a bike ride and a BBQ!

OMFG, my life is good!