I came in from getting my mail to-day and felt something tickle my hand. Looking down, I found this beauty crawling on the back of my hand. I reflexively flung it onto the ground--obviously it had decided not to bite me so far but I knew better than to tempt fate. It looks like it might have hurt me pretty bad though I have no actual idea how bad, I don't know what kind of spider it is. I captured it in a CD spool and released it outside, making love to it with my camera every step of the way:
Speaking of spiders, I was in a David Bowie mood to-day and decided to listen through his discography while drawing beginning with The Man Who Sold the World. Not that I don't like Space Oddity (I think it's generally agreed his self-titled first album isn't a worthy starting point) but I think The Man Who Sold the World is where Bowie really began.
You kids to-day who download individual songs at a time don't know what you're missing by not having the album experience. Bowie has always been one of the greatest artists at putting an album together, too. What an ingenious thing is the first six tracts on Diamond Dogs, each song perfectly follows the next. The world painting overture is followed by the inseparable "Sweet Thing", "Candidate", and "Sweet Thing (Reprise)", a moodier decent into a bad part of town that's also an operatic indulgence in authoritarian seduction. "Sweet Thing (Reprise)" ends in chaotic, disjointed electric guitar which is suddenly obliterated by the simple, repeating riff that begins "Rebel Rebel" as misfit youthful expression provides an antidote for cynical decadence. This album is one of those things you must hear before the spider bites you.
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