Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Probably yes

I like thinking with my hands through play.
Thanks to Kelly Eident for the acrylic, and Mike McCarthy for the photo.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Corpus Callosum

I made a poster for the show tomorrow at 186 Carpenter Street in Providence. Corpus Callosum is on tour all the way from San Francisco, and Speaker For The Dead is joining them for some New England dates. Corpus Callosum has an amazing glass harmonium of tuned wine glasses (okay, not a true harmonium but SUPER INSPIRING nonetheless) , accordion, mandolin, guitars, percussion, voices, bells, and found objects. It should start by 8:30 and be over by 10:00, and I guarantee it will be a lovely time!
Corpus Callosum - Lullaby #2 from Dax Tran-Caffee on Vimeo.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Wednesday, July 18, 2012


Usually, I am a cyclist or a pedestrian. Never have I owned a car, though for about a year I borrowed one from my family. I can't say that I've had the smallest carbon footprint because I have flown over 200 times so far.  Being above clouds is a familiar sight to me. I took this several weeks ago on the way home from California.

Roger Williams Park is certainly the hidden gem of Providence. It covers more than 400 acres and was landscaped by the Olmsted Brothers over a hundred years ago. (Frederick Law Olmsted the elder was the landscape architect for Central Park in New York City.) I like to visit the Temple to Music, the lakes, the Botanical Center, the Japanese Garden, the Museum of Natural History, the carousel, and the stables for the police horses. I took this photo there recently. 
especially enjoy throwing sticks into the lakes when the surfaces are at least partially frozen because it can produce a good fake laser sound, like a tightly- stretched  spring reverberating inside a tube. 
Lately I am elated about actualizing a couple dreams. One has to do with music, and one has to do with a lasercutter. You'll hear more about it soon.

Monday, July 9, 2012

Fireworks and Honeysuckle

July Fourth in New York

Booming mortar ignitions 
black powder combusting 
rolling thunderous echoes
shooting sounds, sounds like shooting. 

inconsistent hammering 
walking on bubble wrap
resonating snaps pouring like lead shot 
staccato flashes
loud silence
fading ghosts in every direction

Floating in a sulfurous haze
the bashful, blushed peach of a moon

hidden in plain sight.

To ride in a plane this very day,
below the clouds above here
witness to a neutral war
populated with flowers of light