The Boy Who Trapped the Sun

I'm sorry you had to chase me, in bare feet down the street

The Boy Who Trapped the Sun's new single "Katy"

A love for Scottish Native artists is becoming an obsession starting with Dot JR (Listen to a love song for everyone and his Digital Love cover)and now The Boy Who Trapped the Sun.

I owe this tip to the lovely Scottish beauty, Kathryn Morrison, (she would probably flip for me calling her "lovely" and a "beauty," so for you, the off her rocker, most sarcastic girl around, Kathryn Morrison) but I also blame her for the information of the Los Angeles show being lost in communication. I would have never known what I was missing until this girl told me one of her friends was playing a showing near my area. It is better to have listened than to have not listened in this case.

Harboring from the Isle of Lewis in Scotland, the Boy Who Trapped the Sun splits time between the Island and southeast London. The singer behind the music known as "The Boy Who Trapped the Sun" actually has a name. Colin MacLeod, he is a one man show- vocals, guitars, drums, piano. He does most, with the help of female vocals on the album and random help here and there. The Boy who Trapped the Sun will not disappoint.

With a happy new single like "Katy"to a dark and truthful song like "Dying to get on your Good Side." He has range when creating music which he is inspired through every avenue rather than the typical whine seen so frequently these days.

My girlfriend just broke up with me ballad and all I had was beer and a guitar and I'm partially crying as I'm recording new stuff.

MacLeod has talent as a lyricist and musician.

His musical influences need no explaining with inspiration such as the Lemonheads, Bob Dylan, Ryan Adams, Bright Eyes and Pavement. Although, I beg to argue that there is some Snow Patrol influence within MacLeod's music.

MacLeod has discovered timely talents that deem the definition of music; they should should carry him far as he contributes timely.

The Boy who Trapped the Sun's debut album "Fireplace" is available July 12. Save your coins, mark your calendars and do yourself a favor-- buy the album.

Below is the new single "Katy." Watching feeling happy and don't be alarmed if you find your self swaying to the beat.


The Boy Who Trapped The Sun - Katy

the boy who trapped the sun | MySpace Music Videos

Catherine & CJ Engaement

Teaser. What? That's can't be, show me more.

Quick note: I got to tag along on Catherine & CJ's engagement shoot with the lovely Kelly Mount, (or as I call her, the Flower Child Beauty). Super fun shoot, great couple, rest in peace Kelly Mount's boots, CJ, you're a trooper for trying to rescue them.

Crafting Frenzy

If crafting was a major;

I would have been all over it.

Maybe my Master's degree.

Have I shared with you my love of crafts?

Whenever I go into a store, specifically Indie-type stores. Or places like World Market. My first instinct is to question, "Could I make this." Saves me money because I don't buy everything in sight but it sometimes projects take me far longer than I anticipated.

But, here are some that I did not procrastinate on. But I bought some fun stuff from Michael's the other day and was far too excited to let them sit.

Walk into my room, and you will find boxes of paper, beads, buttons, glue, tools, paper cutter, scissors, stamps overtaking the floor. Sorry Jessi, I know you put up with a lot. Especially since it's on your side of the room too!

In the last three days,

I have restrung four necklaces.

Here are some fun earrings. (look for an etsy comings soon)

finished my mother's birthday card, (may 27 is her day)

and threw together this fun little headband.

But yes, this is my life right now. Work is slow, but also a good way to keep myself motivated and constantly being creative.

Enjoy.

What are your favorite DIY things ?

Film is better; true art

I live and die by this philosophy.

But I must admit, I've been jaded.

Photo Credit: Robeck Design

Mainly by Daisy, my really old digital canon rebel, that I don't actually like. Yet, has gone with me everywhere for the last year and is the only digital I have. For that I am grateful and I love that it is still around. When my Aunt died last year, I was talking to her life partner and she felt at peace about releasing it to me. My aunt and her took a trip to Africa, and Sue thought that Tommilou would keep on living through the camera. So I've taken, my camera to Africa (Zimbabwe, South Africa and Mozambique), the Grand Canyon, various Hikes, Portland, Indiana, Tulsa, London, various airports. I've captured some great moments. One of the last ones was of this little man.

That's right, one of the last. It was dropped in the sand and sent off to the repair shop. Which should cost me a pretty penny. I'm waiting on the estimates but it might not be worth saving.

But I won't have a final answer for another six weeks.

That's the kicker, six weeks folks. Six entire weeks without my little documenter. So the next best alternatives. Which truly are. I told myself I would surrender Daisy multiple times, but I haven't. I bought two rolls of T-Max 40o and found two rolls of Kodak 400 lying around. The rest will soon be history. But it is back to my dear sweet, rustic and lovely minolta FILM camera. And my Holga fisheye of course.

Here are some little gems.

And of course, Mister Pierce and the lovely Miss Wells. Beauty, I tell you.

I can't wait for you to trek along on my back to the basics of film.

I hope you're as excited as I am.

The practice of Poetry

Sylvia Plath, E.E. Cummings, Elizabeth Browning or your local artist.

My dear friend, Desirae and I stumbled upon a fun idea based on a dumb scenario last year. After a random bout of text messages and the phrase "No where my sweet lips go"; we decided on the poetry challenge. We both would take this phrase and create a poem and see what we both came up with. It was difficult but exciting.

After a year or more of being hidden, here it is.

This is dedicated to you Desirae Marks, Portland Native at heart, wonderful entrepreneur of the Treehouse, and the truest of the trues when it comes to friendship.

The Peak

In the garden
My fingers grasp a bouquet
Delicate daisies intertwined with lovely lilacs
A perfect fit
For tiny hands

In the garden
My toes graze a pasture
Leaving nothing
Untouched
Leaving nothing
Undiscovered

A delve Columbus would have admired

In the garden
my head rests up on your trunk
your limbs as a guard
your leaves as shade
the air that caresses through your branches
sooth and speak
chimes that move

Every remain of body
Has been complemented
Every remain partnered
Except
My mouth
Until
The flawless appears
No where my lips go

Dreams of future; Dreams of truth

Ext. New York - DAY

Cue in The Seer's Tower by Sufjan Steven's.

Any normal day really, driving along with my great friends. We pass over a bridge, we find ourselves midway and realize, there is a gap between the bridge. Quicker than anything humanly possible, the boy driving my squeaks the breaks. Not just squeaks but pushes hard as if this is his last dying wish. We stop and everyone in the car finally takes a breath. It was like the first breath of the last day of our lives. Or what one would imagine.

Something is different in the air today. As we head back to Camp (a hotel-like building filled with hundreds of people) I notice the sky is bleaker than normal. Not like Zimbabwe blue skies, of course that would never happen in New York. But also not smog city blue. This color is gray. Not blue gray. But gray gray.

"In the tower above the earth
There is a view that reaches far
Where we see the universe
I see the fire, I see the end."

The back to Camp is silent as soon as we arrive. After we go to our rooms we leave instantly. Driving around seems like the best thing to do. The cars pass by as they always do. People walk, one foot in front of the other-- right foot, left food. We drive over the Manhattan Bridge.

Deja Vu...hmmm. There is a something.

My friends and I discuss the randomness of the day. There are no cars passing by on the opposite direction.

(Camera above Manhattan bridge and pans slowly to bridge.)

Cars cross the bridge, midpoint there is a huge gap in the middle. Cars plunge to their death. There is no other outcome. We see this. We don't know what to do. The boy driving slams his foot down and turns sharp. We hit the gap and brace that we can do nothing but wait to plummet to the water. Some how we escape and swim to shore.

Why we survived, I don't know. There are bodies floating in the shore and I can't help but think. "The sky is growing darker, the air is stale, the time has come."

INT. CAMP - DAY.
We make it back to our Camp. As we put the key in our room and open the door. We look to each other. We've had visitors.

"Seven miles above the earth
There is Emmanuel of mothers
With his sword, with his robe
He comes dividing man from brothers"

The furniture is turned over, our luggage has been searched. We rummage through what is left and wonder why our supplies were stolen.

One of the others and I went room to room, seeing if the scene was the same as our room. It was. We saw men with masks and guns running around kicking in doors. The surrounding people were confused and panicking. "What does this mean?"

In one of the rooms I found a baby, she was left. The intruders didn't want her, her caretakers were either taken or didn't want her. Either way, she was abandoned. I picked her up. I Found a backpack and started filling it with supplies. My friends ran into the room. "We have to go," they said.

I calmly kept grabbing supplies. It's funny when you think about necessity and wants all fitting into a backpack. Do I need this rope? or Do I need this book? The rope wins when it comes to surviving.

Our group and new addition sweep through the halls, and trying to make a quick and speedy escape. But something is wrong. The men in gas masks run toward us and begin separating us. Men go one way, women go the other. Since when did separation do any good?

"In the tower above the earth, we built it for Emmanuel
In the powers of the earth, we wait until it rails and rails
In the tower above the earth, we built it for Emmanuel
Oh, my mother, she betrayed us, but my father loved and bathed us."

As I hold the baby in my hand, I can only think of getting her to safety. The men with gas masks begin to separate the women, some go one way and the gunshots ring through the stale air. It's not her fault that destiny wants her dead.

I wait a minute and when another group is called to the other outside, I plan the escape. I make it far when the men with gas masks are grabbing their next project. I hear them yelling something about intelligence and they must be stopped. All educated women are next. A man stops me and begins taking me to another room.

The only way out of this was to make friends with this man. Maybe he would have pity on me. We begin talking and he laughs and I think I have an in.

Thoughts race, what really matters. Am I being punished for having a mind? It's funny, how material doesn't matter in the long run.

He holds his gun to me.
The day shows no redemption as far as I can see
The sky is bleak
The baby speaks

The man with the mask looks at her, then to me.

"Still I go to the deepest grave
Where I go to sleep alone."