🌌 Idealism 🌅 Escapism 🌄 Surrealism 🏞
This is my bird clock. It sings every hour. I love my bird clock. A haiku for my bird clock: 🕰 The feathers will fly I tick, but don’t always talk My, look at the time!
I recorded myself saying the word breakfast and now I can’t stop performing the mission impossible theme every morning before I have my honey bunches of oats with almonds. Why am I like this
I like measuring cups
Sometimes I will hit some things
Advice from this mushroom: 🍄 Be down-to-earth Keep a low profile Stay well-rounded Start from the ground up Be a fungi
Pretty fly for a fungi
That was just a detour. A shortcut.
🍄🍄🍄 I have discovered additional mushrooms and am taking this opportunity to consider pursuing a career as a full time toadstool hunter/wizard. Please let me know if you are in support of this new venture.
Okaaay so this fungal yeast shrine of evil spawned in my back yard during the night which is obvious and indisputable evidence of alien dark wizardry Edit: I ate em and they were delicious Edit: I am now able to summon giant eagles and shoot lightning
A short poem for my seam ripper: ❤️ I cannot contain My laughter inside It has me in stitches One thread at a time I don’t give a rip If I cannot sew The pricks of a needle I don’t care to know But I wield a tool Quite sharp yet sublime I slice through my patchwork One seam at a time Yes, many a hem Shall henceforth divide For seams I shall rip One thread at a time ❤️❤️❤️
Got a boat. Never coming back to shore again 🌅
The thing that gets me is the juxtaposition between calm and excitement. Quiet tranquility followed by a sudden jolt of heart-pounding adrenaline. 🌅 I mean, the whole thing. A fish strikes your lure, you set the hook, the drag on your reel screams, you wonder what’s on the other end, you fight the fish, the fish fights you, it might jump completely out of the water, you might lose it at any moment, you reel it in, you land it, you remove the hook, you hold it up, you admire its size, color and beauty, you take a photo, you let it go. This thing lives down there?? It’s an underwater specialist. Remarkably designed, wild, full of instinct, playing its natural part in the ecosystem. No one taught it. It just knows how to be a fish. 🌅 For me, to catch it is to appreciate it. It’s awesome.
Supposed to be workin but mehhhhhhhhhh I’m picking and eatin wild bluebs
Ain’t life beautiful and strange? Head to the merch store for your chance to get the Be Brave hoodie. Link in story.
Color coordinated cable organization. *world implodes* *lives happily and orderly amongst the rubble*
Soooooo if you take a pair of rain pants and you hold them up against a bike tire, and then you spin the bike tire, you can make really good howling wind noise. Who knew??
I love this thing. I play it on tour a lot. It has midi out so I use it to control hardware synths. It’s a Nintendo controller for the game Rock Band and you can get one at Target for $28 🤷🏼♂️
Jeff was also insanely good at video games. All the neighborhood kids, myself included, would enlist Jeff to come over after dinner to beat the hardest Mario and Mega Man levels. He’d get way into it, playing with his whole body, often shrieking at the top of his lungs, sometimes yanking the controller cable clean out of the Nintendo. 🌳 Jeff’s parent’s had a hot tub, which was a big deal in those days. I’d never seen a hot tub and didn’t know anything about them, so when Jeff showed me the big gurgling cauldron in the corner of his basement, it was kinda scary. I remember the air was heavy and sour with chlorine and it made my eyes burn. The tub seemed to me like a monster out of a Goosebumps book. But when Jeff and I would play down there, we'd line up our green army men on it, and pretty soon I got used to the tub and wasn’t afraid of it anymore. 🌳 Jeff had a basketball hoop in his driveway and he would climb up the pole and sit in the hoop with his butt hanging down in the net. He’d sit up there for hours. But that suited him and no one seemed to mind. 🌳 He was especially good at backyard games, and when the neighborhood kids would turn up to play capture the flag, there was Jeff, all tac’d out in face paint and camo, barking orders like a Navy Seal. His team always won. 🌳 Jeff’s favorite Ninja Turtle was Raph. 🌳 🌳 🌳 🌳 Thanks for the great childhood memories, Jeff. 🌳 Sincerely, Adam
I took this photo the other day. I was way out in the country and I saw this blue car sitting in the middle of a field. It was miles from the nearest town, even the nearest house. No for sale sign, it was just abandoned. To me, it looked magical and mysterious out there under the big sky, all alone, with the wind whipping through the grass. Strange to think that someone drove it out to that field, maybe many years ago, shut off the engine, and then walked away. I wonder if they ever looked back. 🌳 As I walked toward it, I kept thinking, “if this car could talk, what stories would it tell?” Maybe it was some teenager’s first car, maybe two people went on their first date in it, and later, were married. Maybe it belonged to a family and they went on summer vacations to Texas with no AC, or Sunday drives after church for ice cream, and they made a thousand great memories in it. Fun to imagine. 🌳 As I walked away, I looked back and I could almost hear it say “please don’t leave me.” It was odd, feeling sad over an abandoned car I’ve never seen before, but I was glad I got to discover and appreciate a piece of someone’s past, maybe numerous people’s pasts — all folks I will never meet nor know the names of. It’s kind of sobering to imagine that at one point, this vehicle might have been somebody’s dream car, someone’s most prized possession, and now it’s here... slowly turning to rust in a sea of tall weeds. Whatever the real story is, the car played its part in history, and to me, that makes it worth honoring. 🌳 It makes me thankful for my own past and the time I’ve been given. Never know what you’ll find when you explore 📷
At last I got her running, so I took her for a spin. And the thrill that baby gave me, I couldn’t help myself but grin.
"Today My Headphones Broke,” a short poem by Adam Young . I bought a pair of headphones half a dozen years ago . And they meant more to me than anyone could ever know . I wore them day and night, alas, they never left my side . The joy they always brought me was too splendid to describe . The days turned into months, then the months turned into years . And all that time, my headphones sat securely on my ears . The cable started fraying, then the ear cups fell apart . But lovingly, I fixed them with affection in my heart . With every piece of music, every single song I wrote . My headphones heard it all, yes, every word and every note . "Without that pair of headphones,” I would laugh aloud and say . “I don’t know what I’d do!” cuz they were perfect, in a way . I vowed it couldn’t happen, oh, but deep down I was scared . To think the day might come when they would break beyond repair . But now, the worst has happened, a lump formed in my throat . I blinked away a tear because... today my headphones broke . 🎧❤️🎧❤️🎧
“The function of music is to release us from the tyranny of conscious thought.” -Thomas Beecham
The early morning sky begins to grow lighter. The dawn chorus fills the air and you open your eyes after a peaceful night of sleep under the stars. You make coffee, talk to God, and watch the world around you wake up. It’s a new day with no mistakes in it yet. To me, few things are better than waking up in a hammock in the woods 🌅
I love the outdoors. The only place I feel totally at peace is when I’m in nature. I filmed this the other day just for fun when I saw a stunning American Goldfinch visiting my feeder. There really is so much beauty around us 🌌 The music is called “Making Water” from my Adam Young album “Miracle In The Andes”
Fascinating true story about a ship sailing from Liverpool to New York in 1856. Of the 120 passengers and crew onboard, only one person survived. Life is so precious and fragile 😳 Really good book.
You guys, if you think about robins, it’s totally insane. They can sneak up on unsuspecting worms and catch them with their MOUTHS. How is nobody freaking out about this??? They don’t have ARMS or HANDS. I am fortunate to have both arms AND hands and I am incapable of catching any type of worm, let alone able to visually see a singular worm tunneling through the dirt... let alone able to catch it with my MOUTH 🤦🏼♂️ Also, robins look like professors wearing 70’s burnt orange sweater vests and I can’t even pull that off 🤦🏼♂️
I always like glitchy blips and sound effects. Grain Delay in Ableton is awesome for that kinda thing. I recorded myself smashing an empty glass mayonnaise jar and then I loaded the sample into Ableton and started messing with the Grain Delay controls. If you record the output of the plugin while you’re tweaking it, you can go through the audio file later and cut out bits and pieces you like and save them as individual samples. You can make loops out of them, stack them, add effects, layer them with snares, claps, kicks... the sky is the limit 🌌 I always use this technique to create new samples to use in my songs 😄
The island has fascinated me since I was a kid. I stare at it across the bay and wonder what became of Frank Morris and the Anglin brothers. Their bodies were never found, the mystery remains unsolved. I wonder if they made it. #alcatraz
Stop trying to hit me and hit me, Neo 😂
Self portrait by Adam Young. This stunning work of art is an assemblage of both textual and representational elements. The choice of color reflects the painter’s emotional state and the style of his work pulsates with energy. His piercing eyes hold you transfixed, but their focus is not on what is happening outside. Instead, they are focused on what is happening inside the painter’s head. The energy of the piece builds from his eyes which are the most tightly drawn feature. The rhythmic brushstrokes spread across the planes of his face, gaining energy as they ripple through his features and finally burst into the churning turbulence of the white background. The stark colors contrast with the curvature of his mouth and eyebrows and they strike a jarring note which perfectly sets the psychological tone of the portrait. We should note in passing that the artist is playing with motifs, teasing our sense of the differing mass of sphere and cube, perhaps a nod to Picasso’s Rose Period. This is a very courageous image of a man trying to hold himself together as he wrestles with his inner demons. It is arguably the most intense self portrait in the history of art.