U ya gotta love the zone, the wacky 'ya never know who or what will show up' and just let it flow, baby, zone. and this one was of extreme chillage, good ambient vibe, lots of travel images (mostly of india), more film (mostly experimental 8mm stuff, random images and quick cuts, though some of it was pretty structured, oh yeah, there was one raunchy hard core ken and barbie porn flick) some text and one very big bunny rabbit. of course there were the customary cast of characters: big thanks to pi, for the presetting the space (and dealing with it afterwards), june for the bruchetta and candle wrangling, holly, daniel, sigi and bruna for the images, goolie for the vietnam recollections, lior for late night musical exploration (from his laptop no less, if mp3 hasn't changed the world, it will very very soon), and to...the very big bunny rabbit.

ok, it wasn't a rabbit, it was a person in a rabbit suit. her name is kim corbin and she is a skipping enthusiast nee' addict (there seems like there should be a 12 step programs for this, 'hi, my name is kim and I am a skipping addict...') no really this is what she does, she skips, and in good bay area form she has webspace at http://www.iskip.com. she spoke about a recent trip to NYC and here experiences at a legalize marijuana rally. here are some of the images from the trip http://www.sirius.com/~stevepi/skipper/ (the first if a ticket for not wearing a helmet on a motorcycle, the second the remnants of a debate with a jesus preacher, and the third her being photographed by a sports illustrated photographer (I told you she was serious...)). her whole thing was pretty funny, I mean she on to something here: tripping, skipping...there's a connection somewhere, though I couldn't quite figure out the bunny suit...just let it flow baby.

other things: goolie's very funny and tres profound travel writing. this guy takes off for eight months and bums around ozzi-land and south east asia looking for a good party and other freaks waving the flag high, and occasionally he sends out e-missives for us slags back home. interestingly enough by the end of the trip, goolie has become a pretty accomplished travel writer, conjuring places and experiences that are engaging and rich and offer up philosophical questions like, is it cool to get drunk with an ex vietnamese army officer, now a police man, who is affectionally slapping you on the inner thigh, while watching a 14 year kid impersonate micheal jackson (moon walk and all): the answer of course it is...) one of the best (and weirdest) moments of the evening was when daniel (who was snapping pictures) misinterpreted my request to to photograph goolie who was about to read, walked up to the podium and started to read goolie's travelog into the mic, and goolie is just standing there slightly dumb founded, but good natured none the less and just let him go until there was a logical break in the text. just letting it flow.

funny thing about me is that I have wanderlust for home. in the last twelve months I've spent most of my time either in LA or elsewhere as I have found myself professionally dislocated. as a friend texter remarked the other day: 'are you still denying your true residence in la, working most of the time down there but escaping up here every once in a while?' this is becoming a story sad but true. I have purchased a condo in sado monica, I am working too much (and thus am always gone) but in my heart and soul I am still a resident of the zone, I am part of the bay area cultural community (I'll be dj'ing at the Rebellissance Ball at sfmoma, june 24th) and yet my head has been hitting the pillow way too much in the southland. so I lust for my abstrakt bed and dream of long moments hanging out in the zone, and elsewhere in our lovely bay area. speaking of which, the next zone commences on june 29th.

what is the ecstatic moment? something brought on by a little white pill, or le petit mort, a state conjured by rhythm and hue, exertion physical or otherwise: all of the above or not at all. see ya all at

x-static, number three from the end. --

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z o n e s