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Reuptake

by Blind Pelican

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1.
The Artist and His Tumor Make a Portrait of Itself 04:16
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It really took me aback. But now it’s hard not to see. It started with a screen in the basement, then the brain thing happened. They can both be true. It became itself right before my eyes. That’s where it all starts. What I got is aggressive. People aren’t allowed to live too long. It’s not so much a Sword of Damocles as a hanging, impending weight. It’s not debilitating, not really. It’s figuring out how to think differently. We’re all dependent on one another. It’s a hard place to feel comfortable and feel you can plan. Forget the future: there’s no tomorrow. But at a certain level, one can adjust and not be consumed. It’s present in a way that doesn’t go away but doesn’t impinge on your complete ability to wake up and move through the day. We’re all dependent on one another.
2.
Reuptake (Quiet) 04:33
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Let the sun take the blame. The freedom of thermal gain. And freedom to remember without fear of suffering for what I remember. Those infant years of liberation, free from knowing who we were or what we’d become. No one yet strung out or disappeared or runaway. No one yet denied this low-grade ecstasy of light. The freedom of thermal gain. Let the sun take the blame. Is this freedom to not remember the basic bruise of missing my friends? Or is it selective serotonin reuptake inhibition or lazy thinking or vitamin D or microdoses of LSD? Enclosure of light sets me free to remember. The freedom of being invited. The freedom of never having to leave. No one dead and no one gone. No one yet denied the freedom of thermal gain. Let the sun take the blame.

about

I once had a friend named Henry who made prints using shapes and dots and a deceptively simple approach to composition and form. He's one of the few people I ever met who with such good cheer tolerated precisely zero bullshit, including that from the tumor in his brain that eventually took his life. The last time we met was in Henry's home studio, where my partner and I pored over Henry's expansive archive of prints while ruminating about ritual masks, the assumption of personae, and the human silliness of seeing representation in inherently meaningless designs. We traded a couple of my books for one of his prints with the promise that we would hang out again soon.

These two songs---songs too weird to feel at home on "Let the Sun Take the Blame"---are dedicated to Henry Wolyniec, for the friendship we had and the friendship we were left hoping still to build.

henrywolyniec.com

credits

released February 5, 2021

Douglas: guitar, bass, voice
Dead Charlie: drums, clarinet
Pella: violin, piano
Ants: trombone

Additional vocals on "Reuptake (Quiet)" by Ben Trickey (bentrickey.bandcamp.com)

Recorded November 2019 through January 2021 in Valatie, NY, Saco, ME, Atlanta, GA, and The b.l.a.c.k. Lodge.

All songs written by Douglas W. Milliken. Lyrics to "The Artist and His Tumor Make a Portrait of Itself" adapted from an interview with Henry Wolyniec (1955-2019).

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Blind Pelican Portland, Maine

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