Will Schaff is just as I remembered. All of the energy – the hyper movement of feet – constant climbing.
We reached Rhode Island at 4 in the morning, pulled in next to police officers and weeds (they revealed themselves as flowers in the morning). We’re staying with an old friend from college – Will Schaff.
Will was… I don’t know what to call him, an idol of mine through school. At first I never knew what to make of him – a mohawk when I first met him, dissolving cow bones in the Commons courtyard. Later I grew to Love him, truly admiring someone who remained true to his art as I grew disillusioned with mine.
The Holocaust is a constant theme. Parts of animals. I remember visiting the warehouse floor he was Living out of in college. I remember hardwood floors and the bones of roadkill. Dead birds cradled amongst dried frogs and crucifixes. Paintings everywhere – naked Scheile-esque figures staring from every wall. Flaccid penises and the inscribed numbers of Concentration Camp victims.
4am in Rhode Island. Will is identical to how I left him. The same feirce energy. Living with someone else, I wasn’t sure what his environment would be like – but sure enough, it’s hardwood floors and animal parts. Perhaps the bones and skulls and skins aren’t in quite as great abundance, but he’s got two dogs and four cats around, and that sort of infestation is never conducive to the survival of organic materials.
One of the things I’ve really Loved about this Trip is the encountering of new music –
– MY FEET ARE BEING LICKED!! – The dogs are friendly .. erf… anywho – new music. I left Shane with perhaps a gig and a half of bands that I’d never heard of. Will started in immediately with “things you GOT to hear”. A sort of Boston smear of words pressed with the urgency of getting everything out, and excitement of… I don’t know – Will is feircely alive.