FROM THE TOP OF WILLAMETTE MTN.

I have started a new...well....a...
new blog i suppose.
willamettemountain.tumblr.com
I have a cooking bone.
or something of the SORTS.
I wanted to just throw out some things i like eating.
WHO CARES!!???
i know, i keep asking the same thing.
but life is full of distraction.
SO...
that is the point.

I have been hurtin.
pain, real soft though.
no need to fret (self speaking)

A letter from Lloyd to Lisa

Dearest Lisa.
The weather was nice hear today. I couldn't believe the amount of sparrows overhead on our walk to the beach. It's magnificent what the world has to offer to onlookers such as us. Two kids now, can you believe it?
Funny how time seems to just slip out from underneath us.
I have had a weight.
And yes...I KNOW that this might sound so simple, even silly.
But, where are you?
I feel your emptiness,
I feel the void between where we were, and where we are.
I want to fill it, to make it go.
To remove ourselves from its terrible presence.
Alas, my love, i cannot.
here we lie.
I ask forgiveness if it was i who brought down such a drought.
Such a terrible disaster.
I have never wanted anything more than i want this.
you, my love, are eternal.
There is a darkness.
You are a light.
love,
yours,
only,
Lloyd.

mind ful.

The days are getting started so early.
I can't help but think that theres a reason behind it.
Jonathan Safran Foer's:
Eating Animals &
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
have been two great books that i have enjoyed as of late.
Currently listening to:
JJ - no. 2
Damien Jurado - St. Bartlett
The National - High Violet
The Carpenters - Christmas

ANY IDEAS for Christmas Cheer?
get made
j

yeah, i want to dance. but not now.

I keep having this theme.
or a thought i spose.
oh heaven.

I just need to jump further from where i was.
"I will start again tomorrow" i'll say.
"oh it's nothing, really, it isn't" i'll declare.
but no.
I WILL NOT dance like this for you.
I won't do it any longer.
Oh the nerve of that guy!
yes the nerve.

I just want to say...
listen pal, if i don't owe you money.
well then... i really don't owe you shit.
but oh how terrible the sound of your own voice,
discussing with such anger in your tone.
i wish i could recreate it.

age 7:
oh perfect a playhouse,
a simple red popcicle.
oh thats kind of you joshua.

age 12:
"STOP! i dont need your help"
"I wish i could change that, but i can't"
simplicity with complex emotions, everyones fault but your own.
I can't expound.

age 18:
how sweet the taste of my first grapefruit alone,
condemned in a small 2 bedroom apartment,
clash posters on the wall.
Freedom without father.
Humor in the way the boy walked,
or the shoe color,
or the oil spill.
all too simple.

age 22:
what a day,
(VOMIT)
no, really, what a day
(I FEEL SO SICK)
next morning
Who is that? (internal)
Boy oh Boy have i pickled it this time (external)
no, no, not you...its me.

age 26:
take comfort in the fact that you have something to think.
your mind is your own.
Blame is so selfish now.
It should have always been,
but NOW!!! now, now it is.
and forever will be.

quite the breakdown here.
I have no reason to say this but for the mere fact that i must.
I MUST!

j

TAKE this and then take it again.

Evan (Guitar, Kick Drum player)
has taken over this tour's blog.
he has a knack for writing.
so listen up.
you can follow us on this amazing
delightful
dangerous
malicious
tour
HERE:
http://theevanderblog.tumblr.com/

love to death
death to life.
joshua

TOUR, entry 3 by evan the sister of mercy

Our third and final day of driving to the first show has taken us up into the remote reaches of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, or “The U.P.” And though on a map it looks like it should belong to Wisconsin, or even Canada, you can see why Michigan would want to reach over and claim it for itself. Frozen lakes pocket dense forests that enforce a peaceful silence over the land with their sentries of ancient trees. During a roadside stop our delighted hollers echoed and disappeared into the ranks of gray trunks.

After stocking up on replacement fuses for our van’s power inverter and bakery outlet bread for our daily sandwiches, we made our way to Marquette’s lakeside downtown. There we found a music store with instruments in the window but nowhere inside, and a recording studio in an historic house-turned-strip-mall that we unfortunately had no time to cut a song in. On the lakeshore the discussion inevitably turned to the strange blend of emotions we were experiencing at the thought of opening for a band we grew up listening to.

Tonight’s show was quite the way for our first-time tour manager to jump in and learn how to swim. First of all, the water in the analogy would be frozen as the venue turned out to be a hockey arena. The show’s coordinators were somehow completely unaware of our inclusion in the night’s proceedings and we were banished to a less-than-pleasant smelling locker room with nary a bottle of water to quench the thirst of our dry, open hanging mouths. Any tour’s first night is going to be a hectic, but this has seemed particularly haphazard. Katie, Third Eye Blind’s tour manager, also a first-timer, would later ask, “Does anyone do this more than once?”

During load out, I realized my guitar was conspicuously missing from our gathered gear. No one in 3EB’s crew had seen it or had any idea what might have happened to it. But we did. The hired help that assisted us in removing our instruments from the stage seemed to be comprised of students from the university putting on the show, who probably assumed that every piece of equipment laying around belonged in one of the two semi trucks traveling with the show. Though the fellow supervising their loading maintained that the crates holding guitars were full and couldn’t possibly be holding mine, he let me investigate. “But you gotta go now—we’re about to close her up.” Scrambling over bicycles, boxes of t-shirts, and the disassembled stage, I reached the front of the carrier where the guitars were kept. There, sitting on top as if waiting for my rescue was the misplaced instrument. Holding it aloft, I gingerly picked my way over the uneven terrain and rejoined my band mates in the van.

A rocky start to be sure—it was also our first proper tourdate with our newly configured trio, which demands most of our spare limbs, and all of our concentration, to make up for the lack of a drummer. Everyone, including us, seemed to be getting a feel for things. But we enjoyed sending our unpolished sounds out over the board-covered ice, and getting to know our tourmates whilst joining them on their bus for a toast. Our lovely couch surfers for the night had a pet bunny that was trained and as soft as they come. As I drifted off I knew we were only going further down the rabbit hole, but I imagined it belonging to a furry friend like him, and the thought was quite comforting.

Tour ENTRY 2. by evan

Everything had been going well today. We secured a place to stay with family friends in Minneapolis while driving north without a set destination for the night. Casino billboards peppered the drive with moments of amusement:

“Voted sexiest casino in the Midwest!”
“Come Gamble, Get Free Buffet!”

We were nearly enticed by these siren calls, but managed to stay the course. Upon arrival, the smell of baked goodies, one of our gracious hosts, and Emily, a deaf, floppy-eared Collie, all emerged from the house to welcome us.

We set up shop in the kitchen with our trusty new travel-sized food processor, the centerpiece of our plan to eat healthily yet affordably this tour, and whipped up batches of hummus and salsa for dinner. (If you have any food processor recipes that don’t require refrigerated ingredients, please submit them below.) After finishing off with some chocolate chunk brownies, everyone was quite satisfied. Except Joshua—it was no sensation of contentment warming his belly: “Does anyone else’s stomach hurt?” A trio of shaking heads answered.

Our efforts to dismiss this disturbance to the evening’s enjoyment as a case of simple indigestion were soon abandoned as Joshua staggered out the back door in a desperate search for fresh air and some sort of relief. We found him doubled over in pain, groaning for it to end, the pain or his life. If not the first, then he would beg for the second, expecting and eventually accepting its imminent approach.

It was decided a trip to the hospital was in order and we sped off toward the facility, three miles distant. Though our trip did incur one casualty—an electrical box hiding in the shadows at the edge of the lawn—our wounded comrade was still clinging to life. While en route, one of his crazed mutterings was deciphered as a request for water, and a bottle was held to his lips. Pulling into the “Exit Only” of the E.R. drive, his coherence returned and he began objecting to the urgency of our mission. The water was washing away the pain. By the time we sat down in the lobby, our boy was back to his old self, completely free of pain even at skeptical prods beneath his ribcage.

Waiting to make sure the reprieve wasn’t temporary, Joe’s phone diagnosed the ailment, with helpful input from the security guard, as a gallstone. A call to Mrs. James confirmed a family history, and another to his wife was placed to see whether the insurance co-pay would be worth a cautionary checkup. Four hundred dollars, a devastating sum. Perhaps Obama’s just-passed health care bill would put an end to charges discouraging preventative care, we didn’t know. As it was, we would have to pray another attack didn’t occur on the desolate drive to the U.P., or worse, onstage.

TOUR, day one.

We started and ended our day with James residences, arriving at the elder generation’s in Lincoln, half a day after leaving that of the younger in Willamette Mtn., UT. We look haggard and reek intensely of garlic. The former we were aware of, thanks to numerous gas station mirrors along the way, the latter we were informed of gently by a concerned Mr. James—“Have you been eating hummus?”

The blog is shortly being taken over by the one,
the only,
the tall,
the skinny.
Evan Coulombe.



We left this morning at 6:45 a.m., an impressive forty-five minutes after our intended departure time. The punctuality continued with our new tour manager, Pablo, at the wheel. Our GPS recorded a peak speed for the trip of 95.3 mph, inspiring pride in both “Pabs” and our road-worn van, Betty. Flying across the Midwest plains, the roadside windmills swept us along with their giant arms.

Nearing the Nebraskan border we happened upon a guitar-slinging hitchhiker and, looking from each other to the empty seat and back, hastily pulled over. This fellow traveling musician was making his way back to Manhattan after leaving for California on a songwriting pilgrimage in October. Joshua, eager to try out his new handheld stereo recorder, quickly coaxed him into playing a song for us. Hesitant at first, he became increasingly enthusiastic and the performance grew to include the results of his songwriting journey, intriguing back-stories, and some Beatles covers (his “moneymakers” at rest stops and subway stations). As if shocked at what he had let himself be talked into, he anxiously asked us to drop him off at the next small town, where he planned to sleep on the lawn of a church—a man after our own hearts. A sample of the recording can be heard above and will likely be the last “Van Session,” as the seat will be filled tomorrow by Joe, our keyboard player.

In the canyons beyond Park City we spotted two coyotes messily devouring a deer. We aren’t a particularly superstitious bunch, but this was obviously an omen of great significance. The two coyotes surely symbolized the two legs of our tour, one with Third Eye Blind, the other with Matthew Perryman Jones. The deer would be … well the American public, I guess, who would fall to us like prey. Or perhaps just the plentiful bounty we would receive for our efforts. Either way, the Universe was smiling upon us

Last Night in Oxford

tonight was the last night here (in Oxford)
I can'ttell you how much i love it here.
Such a beauty,
such a treasure.
Close eyes (tonight).
Heading back to London in the morning.
And off to Austin next week.
What an adventure we have in store.
I have a heart for it.

There is a time to learn.
A time to feel
A time to invent.
NOW is the time to seize
To LIVE!

be it.
Whatever (it) is.
joshua
thefiredancer

A heartbeat, naked endeavours.

OXFORD!

england makes me feel.
anything at all.
I am here with Will (the magical man) and Evan.
how glorious.
the incredible dining tonight was out of this world.
I wish that i could be part of this (always)
but alas.
The pub crawl.
was...
insanely delightful and invigorating.
i thank thee Oxford, England.

There is an amazing show coming up that i wish i could be at.
BUT...
i will be here still.
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=336082900674&ref=ts
i miss those men/bands
i love them so.

let us ALL remember.
life is alive.
death is soon.
REMEMBER
i wish i could.
love you all.
(TOBEALIVE)
joshua

like out of a dream...

plane ride was fine.
enough of that...
I just loved the arrival,
the cold, the wet, the sound.
All consuming my thought.
We arrived at the airport of Gatwick
England at 6:52 am on Sunday.
Absolutely no sleep from the plane trip over.
We met Jamie, an insanely kind and hospitable A&R representative here in London.
He drove us to his flat in London and left us here to rest up for the day.
But... it was only 8 am by the time we arrived...no sleep for us.
We started our stay off on the right foot with a perfect cup of English breakfast tea.
And then off on foot to explore.
We wondered until 6 pm. We then stumbled into a beautiful church building.
We sat and took it all in.

The whole service was breathtaking.
the choir is what really got me.
such conviction!
such passion!
One can only hope to aspire to such things.
We got home after the service and are now fixing up some amazing potatoes, carrots and rice.
this place is magical.

love,
Joshua Fred

The Night's Sun is a Terribly Beautiful Place.

I have seen a great divorce stretch across the western plains.
Consuming from the bottom, every passion every saved.
And i can't justify destruction of these thoughts my mind has made.
There ain't no use for a frail and weakened state.
There ain't no pardon for decisions that i make.

Well, I have leveled all the options in every corner of my mind.
Made apocryphal arrangements with the lord of lust and i,
can't bring myself to tell a single word without sounding like a liar.
Twenty Five years and i've grown tired.
Good God! Watch your son as he's on fire.

There is beauty to be found in the darkness that we create.
Absolution for the conscience of a tortured, beaten state.
I've been carried out by demons, i have seen the face of Cane.
My body can't quite make it to the gate.
My back is being crushed beneath the weight.

I've found a perfect venom to push confusion from my head.
The white path leads to heaven, but i chose the path thats red.
And i could follow to the bottom, but i'll float alone instead.
Hoping for your sake it ain't my pride.
As i'm drifting further deep into the tide.

-Joshua (in a constant state of remorse)

Working hard, hardly working. Hey man, you know me.

The old gang ain't around no more.
But i still seem to get my hands into a bit of trouble,
every now and again.
It appears that we will be visiting the great and
unstoppable city of LONDON again.
How i love it there.
Beauty all around.
TRULY.
I have been here,
writing,
singing,
finding a place..
anywhere (really)
that i can just say.
Here it is.
Here I AM.
this is what i plan on..
et cetera.
It is so strange to be here.
Never thought it possible.
but..
oh yes..
but alas.
I somehow have arrived to (it).
We will be touring come early april for about a month.
excited.
also
SXSW we will play.
its a quick trip in.
and a faster trip out.
weddings and work.
work and weddings.
dear brother,
i know that you are about to wed (thyself)
be happy in your endeavours.
your loving one (brother).
joshua

Create Something

I came to this.

You birth.
You breathe.
You learn.
You begin.
You create.
You save.
You strive.
etc.

You write what you write.
You think what your mind makes.
You do it.
You create that thing.
You sing it.
Whether people love it/hate it.
You die in the end.
And that's it.
It doesn't matter.
It REALLY doesn't matter.
do what you do.
and don't ask forgiveness for it.
TRUTH.
I PROMISE.

j

This ain't yo BEEF.

I am a waste (alot of the time).
I shop and purchase most items that are found on my body and inside my house
from a local thrift store called "Deseret Industries"
or for the local folk "DI".

There are many reasons why i enjoy going to DI.
Of course you have your obvious reasons such as low cost,
older clothing, and the thrill of not knowing what will be there that day.
BUT THEN...you have the bigger reasons of going there.

I suppose it just sort of blows my mind that i see the exact
same people there EVERY single time that i go.
Granted,
I am one of those people,
but the culture of DI is astounding,
and should possibly be studied at some fancy University in the future.
And it isn't just the fact that it is the same people,
its also the fact that they all wait outside the doors at 9:55,
and when the doors DO open, it is such an extreme event.
People are pushing, shoving, running, screaming.
And this happens EVERY SINGLE DAY (minus Sundays and holidays).

Well,
today i went to DI,
I waited outside the doors just like all of my other thrift store comrades
until they opened them at 10am on the button.
I walked inside and started heading to the back of the store.
There was a "heated" conversation going on amongst the employees
of my favorite thrift store.
I remember it going like this:

Employee 1: "Hey, you better leave her alone!"
Employee 2: "This ain't none of yo' beef, you just stick yo' nose out of it."
Employee 1: "You better watch yourself, we got problems now.

As this is all happening there is a mysterious "Employee 3" that was slowly walking away (i am assuming she was the girl that the two boys were fighting over.)

After "Employee 1" had said that "we got problems now" Employee 2 walked directly up to him and put his nose right in his face, saying:

Employee 2: "Oh yeah, whatchyou gun do now withyo' problum?"

I was amazed that no management and or coworker had stepped in to see what "da beef" was all about.

Employee 1: "I wouldn't recommend doing that, I'm gonna find you later, after work, you better leave her alone, or else!!."
Employee 2: "Pssshhhh."

"Employee 2" walked away and into the back room.

Now i know this isn't the most amazing story, or even a good story at that.
But for me it was something exciting that happened in my otherwise boring day.
And gave me yet another reason to go thrift shopping more often.

If either of the employees ever see this (which is highly improbable).
I thank you both!

valentine oh valentine.
love abounds.

joshua

Russian Mafia on the plane ride home.

oh my.
I just got home from London, England.
How amazing it was.
The food, the people, the music.
I can't properly describe everything that happened.
So, I won't.
Despite the fact that the trip was amazing,
the trip home was...well...
interesting.
and LONG.
terribly.

We woke up at 5am (London time) to get ready to head to the airport.
The trip to the airport was just fine.
Upon entering into airport security i was immediately searched.
My bags torn open and things spread out.
It took me honestly thirty minutes just to pack my backpack.
It was quite difficult to make everything fit.
After nothing harmful was found in my bags
i was permitted to head to the gate.
Upon arriving about 200 feet from the gate there was yet another search.
My bag was reopened and searched for a second time.
At this point of the trip i was frustrated.
But, i understand.
Better safe than sorry.
We boarded the train, and soon enough we were sailing smoothly across the world
towards NYC. We arrived to New York City safe and sound.
Despite the fact that i was subjected to a terrible movie.
I believe it was called "The invention of Lying"
NOT GOOD.
that is me being as honest as abe.
The plane ride was seven hours to NYC.

NOW,
we had a FIVE HOUR LAY OVER in New York City.
Son of a b.... it was terrible.
sitting,
and waiting,
and looking,
and listening.
It really was torturous.
But alas, we made it through.

We boarded the last plane to head to SLC.
I was sitting in my assigned seat, which was
31D, this was an aisle seat.
I was sitting there, calm, collected, peaceful,
waiting for the rest of the passengers to take their seats.
AND THEN...
he appeared.
from the midst of the front of the plane,
a gigantic, crunchy faced, trench coat wearing mafia man.
As he came closer, i had no doubt that he would be the one to
be sitting next to me.
and i was right.

Now this man did NOT speak english.
he looked at me and grunted as he pointed to the inside middle seat.
So i calmly unbuckled my seat belt and stood up, so that he would
be able to seat himself.
The man looked at me and half smiled as he pushed me (literally pushed)
to the middle seat. I was confused.
Was he assuming that i would just take that sort of treatment,
that i would just cave?
Damn that man!
he was right, i did cave.
what i ninnie i have become.
The whole plane trip home he would say things in some dark obscure language
that noone including myself understood.
He bullied the stuartesses into giving him free wine.
It was an outrageous scene.

As the plane landed he forced his way to the front to be the first person off
of the plane.
I can't say i was sad when he left my side.
The trip home was a torture.
But, i am home.
safe
and
happy.

to the world we owe everything!
forget me not kindness.

love,
joshua

I bid thee adieu, my love

To the world of wonders in which we have been.
I bid thee adieu.
It has been an incredible journey (I thank thee).
here in London.
The party that happened the other night was STUPENDOUS.
The food that was made was out of this world.
It was traditionally a middle eastern gourmet.
We all played and sang music until around 4am.
It was an unbelievable experience.
I appreciate them so much.
(them being those that invited us and let us join their group).
It was good.
very.

We are in London still.
We were supposed to leave on sunday but due
to some meetings that were scheduled (last minute)
we have decided to stay here a couple of more days.
And this is NOT me complaining.
I really do love it here.
There have been talks of coming back soon.
And that comes with time.

My brother is getting married.
I am getting older.
Life is as wild as we all are.
Make it your own.
We all are our own!

heading back home tomorrow morning.
One more pub visit.

sisters of mercy!
joshua (a forced geranium)

The Queen of Grocers

It has been a marvelous day here in London,
A sight for seeing we saw.
Big Ben, wow! what an amazing site.
We visited all the main sites near Parliament etc.
It was such an incredible thing to see.
I couldn't help but think of my father all the while.
He lived in England for awhile and i thought of him as i am now,
and it makes me quite happy.

After the sites to see visit we headed to an
extremely fancy and (in my opinion) very overpriced grocery market.
Shannon (manager) was on a search for
nine different jams/jellies to bring back to the states.
We arrived to the spectacular site and began searching we found
everything from rose pedal jelly
to "gentleman's relish", it was quite spectacular really.
I suppose i never really knew that such places existed.
After a 147 pound (roughly $250) jam and jelly visit we
were spent (grocerly speaking).
We decided to go to a cheese bar.
We had bleu and brie cheese.
It was ABSOLUTELY spectacular.
We just arrived back to the hotel to get ready for the
party that is being thrown by our new found London based friends.
We also just got word that we will be in London for a couple of more days
due to some record label interest, we will enjoy every second of it.
and with a good slice of cheese at that.
what a world we are living in friends!
ahoy

joshua (the searcher)

The Informant of sorts

We played our last show (this go at it)
last night here in London.

This has been a marvelous trip thus far,
and am not looking forward to boarding the plane home.
We still have two whole days left and we plan
to make the most of it.
More shwarmas last night at maroush,
and delightful it was.
There is something in the light here (dull as it may be)
that intoxicates you.
Fills you, and boils you down.
Makes what you truly were meant to be come washing out.
I suppose i know nothing,
I know that really.
But the sensation of living here in tangible.
really.
We have big plans coming.
I question it all sometimes.
Music and all.
But i suppose without questioning you get no answer.
so here is to questioning.
A toast of fable.
A tale of myth.

yours,
forever,

Joshua (in the forest)

I Love Maroush!

What a day, what a day.
After a long hard search today we finally found a place that was able to fix the guitar.
The guitar (right before sound check) was up and running.
We showed up to "Dirty Boots"
tonight, which is where we were going to play.
And we realized that not only is this a music club,
but also a bowling alley.
Unbelievable.
We were last (went on around 10:00 pm)
after two rock and roll bands.
Seeing as how we are a Neo-Alt-Post-Prog-Folk Duo
we had some shoes to fill to show the crowd WHO was boss.
And that we did (or atleast attempted)
We played (what felt like) a solid set of songs,
and put our hearts on the line.

After the show we spent some time talking to some incredibly kind locals.
We talked/laughed/ and planned a very insanely promising party in east london
for this upcoming saturday.
I cannot wait, and will send all details post party mr. james.
We took a cab back to the hotel and stopped by a place called
"Maroush" which sells authentic Lebanese food.
I purchased myself a mixed schwarma wrap.
Basically lamb meet and chicken with some incredibly exquisite seasonings and vegetables.
It made my heart phenomenally warm.
I love MAROUSH!
indeed i do.
here is to london,
the cold,
the rain,
the friends,
the way (to live is to love)

Minshoufkon!

to the moon we go all together now.
joshua (the tyrant of the seas)