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Photo:Jill Delaney
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. Chez Modesta .
.Votre Menu . Carte du Mademoiselle la Editrice.................................................................................8 The things you lose along the way.....................................................................................10 Africa...............................................................................................................................14 Caras de Holanda......................................................................................................20 Miss Delta................................................................................................................28 Solano............................................................................................................................34 Meet.............................................................................................................................42
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Cover Art:
Scrapbook Sweetheart
Aurinko Sunshine featuring Mila Martorelli (collaboration) Sweet 16 album picture + paper clippings and lace. Copyright 2010 Ain’t she sweet? Editor-in-chief Executive editor Art director Co-art director
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Design Senior Designer Junior Designer Toilet paper Administrator Founder Publisher Marketing Director Account Manager President CFO Intern Modesta |6
Aurinko Sunshine
Colaboradores/Contributors Sherry Latham
http://tallstoriestinylies.wordpress.com/ Trotamundos, escritora, compañera de cuarto y amiga. Cruzamos caminos en Dawson City, y no los vamos a descruzar mas. Globetrotter, writer, roommate and friend. We crossed paths in Dawson City, and will never uncross them again.
Mila Martorelli
http://fotosintessis.blogspot.com/ Mila es habitué de Modesta. Fotógrafa autodidacta y mi ex compañera de equipo en la facu, esta vez prueba con escribir acerca de su muy especial ciudad. Mila is a fix in Modesta. Self taught photographer and my ex teammate in design school, this time she tries writing, about her special hometown.
Maria Schurr
Entrevistadora estrella de Modesta. Si tuviera un talk show, sería rica! Modesta’s star interviewer. If she had a talk show, she’d be rich!
Al Monster
http://www.monsterchild.tk Si todos los monstruos dibujaran, el sería el mejor. If every monster could draw, he’ll be the best.
Sebastián Desbats
http://www.sebastiandesbats.com/
Fotógrafo profesional. Professional photographer.
Fede Andreotti
Fede es un dibujante muy fresco y gracioso, sólo que todavía no lo sabe. Fede is a very fresh and funny cartoonist, he just doesn’t know it yet.
Dng
Ella es nuestra artista de la página 4. Esa es una foto de nuestra editora usando un parche en el ojo. She’s our regular page 4 artist. That’s a picture of our editor wearing an eye patch
Jilly Dee
Ella sacó la foto de la página 2 en Guatemala. She took the picture in page 2 spread in Guatemala.
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Mi hermana dice que hay que ser líquido. Adaptarse al medio que nos contiene, más rapido y fácil que esperar que el medio se adapte a nosotros. Líquido como sopa fria en un tupper. O líquido, como el agua del arroyo que erosiona las piedras por las que pasa, O mar que cambia sin violencia las formas de un caracol. (O tsunami que arrasa con un pueblo entero) En la Tierra los ríos, mares y arroyos tienen nombre. Pero lo cierto es que sus aguas pasan y se van, se mezclan con otras y transforman. Se evaporan y vuelven a caer en su lugar, para volverse a ir. Entonces, que nombramos? Las grietas por donde pasan? Esas grietas sólo son alguien cuando las aguas las transitan. Porque la pared de un patio es irrepetible? Porque uno prefiere el brillo de unos minúsculos pedacitos de vidrio mezclados entre el cemento que forma una mole gris y vieja, mas que a otros? Volvemos a esos patios. Y es hermoso. Algunos vuelven para quedarse y florecer.
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Y otros, de los que tienen estampidas de búfalos saltandoles en la sangre, si se quedan demasiado tiempo van a ver monstruos en cada malvón y caras hostiles hechas de ladrillo. He aquí el dilema: Cuando y hasta cuando. Acá y allá. Should I stay or should I go. Solución: No disponible. Pero. Hay algunas cosas que tienen que estar claras. No llorar a los años que no van a volver, porque existen algunas formas de que nosotros volvamos a ellos. El tren no sale sin pasajeros. Los cuartos de hora sólo se pierden lamentándose. Perder. Hay que perder las feas ansiedades, porque lo que realmente es para nosotros nunca nos pasa de largo. Perdido. No todo el que vaga está perdido, tiene tatuado en su brazo una gran amiga. No todo el que vaga está perdido. Como el agua.
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The things you lose along
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by Sherry Latham
g the way New York, 2010 (Which is Ten Years after 2000, which blows my ever-loving mind). The bottom line is that there are too many places. And that my legs - long enough, considering I'm only five-foot-two - are still too short to get me swiftly between them. If I had legs, long legs, smooth pale legs a thousand miles long and three paces would clear the continent, and a running-leap could vault me over an Ocean, then, oh then... Ten years ago I moved from Vancouver, B.C, (where I was also spread thin, living in a flat above a busy downtown city street and going to school an hour away in a delta suburb that was Flat - a different Flat - the Flat of farmland and homogeneity), moved literally on a whim to Los Angeles. I was sixteen. It changed my life. And then I didn’t stop. Los Angeles lasted two years - two golden, sun-soaked, palm frond years that sent me spinning off in seven new directions all at once. It was like a slingshot.
It was a secret that was told only to me: Keep Going. So I did.
Vancouver, then Europe, then the Queen Charlotte Islands, Panama and Costa Rica, Alaska, Belgium, Portugal, Paris, New York, San Diego, the Yukon, Portland, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam... And New York. Again. New York always, again. Ten years. Ten golden, sun-soaked, palm frond years. I’m twenty-six now. Which happened somehow, along the way. I haven’t had a permanent home since the spring of 2008, everything I own is in boxes under the stairs in my father’s house, in boxes packed and unpacked and repacked so many times I have no idea where anything is anymore, or what I have lost. Without a doubt, things are lost. Books and photos and that white skirt I hand-washed and hung up to dry a year ago and have no memory of after that...So it goes. This is how it happens. Things shed, shear off, slip through your fingers and out of your purse. Pause long enough in a town and you will leave things behind- pieces of yourself, your luggage, your life and, inevitably, your heart. So you pick up new things, new people, new dreams to fill the void of the old, to patch the splits along your seams. A pair of indigo jeans in Lisbon, (where I should have bought sunglasses, why didn’t I buy sunglasses, instead I spent two months squinting from the glare off those white marble tile streets - instead I bought denim. I never will learn. I warn you this now. Before you are in too deep and begin to bank too heavily on a girl who will remain forever Ridiculous, Haphazard, and Absurd).
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I took a boyfriend from the Charlottes, I left another in Hanoi. A worn and forgotten down coat from Dawson City with sky-blue lining and wolverine fur around the hood. I left a t-shirt in London that I’ll never forget, after a night of drinking with a long-lost boy I’d met once in Budapest, with long blonde hair, Kurt Cobain blue eyes and a quiet, dry laugh that made me quiver and swoon. I forgot to look under the bed when I packed and left for home early the next morning.
Always a mistake. Things... dreams... and people.
and
Manhattan has my heart like no other city ever will. How can I be blamed for this? It crashes through my veins and fills me with sharp carbonation, like Champagne. It’s like walking the streets of ancient Carthage. New York is that important. To me, and to the entire world. So, the day of the western world may be ending. So, Asia is rising, in the east and everywhere else, and we can’t get our shit together enough to pass fucking health-care. But New York was the genesis of the modern world, and it is written in every crack of it’s pavement and in the face of every rider on the subway. It is not an American city, it is the world, and every man-jack among us here, we know that Manhattan was built on the edge of the wave, high above the sea. If the sea moves on, it’s the ocean’s loss and not the wave’s.
But I don’t live here, I only visit.
I am here - now - here and now-
but it isn’t going to last. I’m leaving in two days, two simple spans of night-to-day, which are nowhere near as long as they used to be. In four days I’ll be in Vancouver, again, for about a hands-breadth of time. Sweet, green Vancouver. And then I’ll be back in Canada’s Yukon, in Dawson - a tiny daydream of a town and of the way the world used to be. I left a boy there, and that coat, and my heart y
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Africa By Al Monster
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by Sebasti
Holanda
ian Desbats
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“Once you get to an island house, trying to
“Una vez que se llega a una casa isleña, tratar de
El Delta del Tigre es una red de islas y esteros que se extiende en un área de 14,000 km, resultado de las loquisimas ramificaciones del rio Paraná. Un laberinto con agua y vegetación frondosa, con enredados y engañosamente playos pasajes donde escuadrones de mosquitos asesinos fueron nuestros aliados en la reconquista de las segundas invasiones inglesas. Y fue mi destino un fin de semana. Si querés, podes propulsarte a diesel hasta la isla de la fantasía, en lanchas colectivas o taxis de agua que salen todos los días de Tigre, lo que no es secreto para muchos turistas.Pero si la jugás de local, como yo, es otra historia. Una vez que se llega a una casa isleña, tratar de hacer tu rutina diaria normal es díficil y tampoco tiene demasiado sentido. Cocinar fideos significa llenar una olla con agua embotellada, ya que lo que sale de la canilla es viscoso y marrón. Mejor cambiarlo por un pescado a la parrilla, pescarlo uno mismo siendo una gran opción; o (si tenés señal en el celu) llamar a un delivery de pizza isleña, y experimentar la copadez total de que la comida te llegue en bote. Cualquiera de las dos es mejor que quedarte en casa y calentarte algo en el microondas. Olvidate de ducharte. La limpieza no te duraría nada, ya que con solo caminar desde la casa al portón te deja las pantorrillas en fangoterapia, y si fuiste delicado y usaste zapatos, podes perder uno...o los dos. Y el hedor de la humedad y los vahos de pantanos se agarran a tu piel y pelo. Pero no estas en la ciudad! Y todo lo que necesitás es subirte a mi canoa. Y rolate uno, dale? Los canales y arroyos funcionan de calles, como una especie de Venecia de la jungla. Cuando dás tu dirección en la isla, decís el nombre del arroyo sobre el que está, y dás otra referencia (ej: muelle azul, al lado del arbol grande, etc). Y queda muy canchero ponerle nombre a tu casa con un cartel en el muelle . Por alguna razón, todos los nombres son algo como “Utopía”, “Mi sueño”, “Viví tu vida”. Filosofía isleña.
The Delta of Tigre is a network of islands and wetlands in an area of over 14,000 km, result of the crazy forking of the Paraná river. A maze of water with lush life, tangled and deceitfully shallow passages where squads of assasin mosquitoes actually helped defeat the second english invasions. And was my weekend destination. If you want, you can diesel-propell yourself into this fantasy island, either by collective boats or taxi boats that leave everyday from downton Tigre, which is no secret for the many tourists. But if you go with the locals, like me, its a different story. Once you get to an island house, trying to do your normal everyday routine is hard and mostly pointless. Cooking noodles means filling a pot with mineral water, since what comes out of the tap is slimy and brown. You’re better off with some grilled fish, fresh caught is definitely an option; or (if your cellphone has reception) call one of the island pizza numbers, and experience the coolness of getting food delivered by boat. Either way is better than staying home and microwaving some patties. Don’t even consider showering. Cleanness wouldn’t even last anyway, since a simple walk across the lawn to the front gate leaves you with mudtherapy shins, and if you were delicate enough to wear shoes, you might loose one…if not both. And the stench of humidity and swamp fumes clings to your skin and hair. But, guess what? You’re not in the city. All you need is to jump in my canoe. And roll a doobie for us, will ya? Take one of the many little channels and streams, that work like streets, in a hardcore jungle Venice style. Actually, when you give out your island address, you say the name of the stream and other references (blue dock, the house next to the big tree,etc). Its also very fashionable to name your house with a cute little sign on the dock. And for some reason, all those names are along the lines of “Utopia”, “My dream”, “Live your Life”, etc. Island philosophy.
do your normal everyday routine is hard and mostly pointless.”
e hacer tu rutina diaria normal es díficil y tampoco tiene demasiado sentido.”
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“(...) understanding what makes islanders cho “(...)entender qué hace a los isleños elegir Los canales funcionan como calles doble mano: lanchas, botes a remo y canoas son los autos, camionetas y bicis; salvo por las multas y semáforos, son las mismas reglas. Ah, y también está el plus de que prácticamente todo pasajero está semidesnudo, bronceado y en forma de tanto remar. Evitá los camalotes, están llenos de víboras. Yo lo aprendí de la peor manera!
The channels work as two way streets: motorboats, rowing boats and canoes are the cars, vans, and bikes; and except for parking tickets and traffic lights, its pretty much the same rules. Oh, and there’s also the plus that pretty much every passenger is half-nude, tan and fit from paddling daily. Avoid the floating plants, they’re full of snakes. I learned that the hard way, years ago!
Si los arroyos son calles, entonces el Sarmiento es la avenida principal. Probá tu coraje esquivando catamaranes de considerable tamaño y lanchas pisteras que amenazan con voltearte la canoa, mientras que la otra costa sigue lejos y no hay de donde agarrarse. No niego que es emocionante.
If the streams are streets, then the Sarmiento is one big, busy avenue. Test your might dodging mediumsized passenger boats and speedmaniac motorboats that’ll tip your canoe over, while the other shore is still pretty far and there’s nothing you can hold on to. Can’t say its not thrilling.
Pero el número uno de mi ranking se lo lleva remar de noche. Si podés superar el terror de NO ver por donde vas y seguir a ciegas, tus ojos se van a ajustar y vas a empezar a reconocer el camino por la silueta de los arboles contra el cielo estrellado, un chorro de brillantina siguiendo el contorno de los arroyos. Y las estrellas siempre se ven desde la isla. Y el silencio, y los bichitos de luz. Incluso los murciélagos que cada tanto te revolotean por las orejas valen la pena la osadía.
But what’s on top of my list is midnight canoeing. If you can get over the terror of actually NOT seeing the way you’re going and move on, your eyes will adjust and you’ll start recognizing the path by watching the silhouette of the trees against the starry sky, a glitter splatter winding along the shapes of the streams. And stars are always visible from the island. And the silence, and the glowbugs. And even the bats that ocassionally fly past your ears are worth the dare.
Los isleños son campeonazos. Algunos, hasta construyen sus propias casas. Superan limitaciones de transporte, agua corriente, electricidad y telefonía. Disponibilidad de agua es la máxima prioridad. Deben organizar maniobras de compras épicas mensual o semanalmente, que no admiten errores ni olvidos. Pagar todas las cuentas, ir a todos los doctores, hacer todos los mandados antes de que salga el último bote. Y encima de todo eso, mantener sus trabajos y mandar a los chicos a la escuela, como todo el mundo. Incluso escuché una historia de una abogada de la isla ,que se envolvía en bolsas de nylon para preservar impecable su traje mientras viajaba en lancha. Y de chicos llendo a la escuela en kayak.
The locals are life champs. Some, even build their own houses with their hands. Overcoming limitations such as transport, running water, electricity and phone impediments. Water availability is usually top priority. They must organize weekly or monthly epic shopping manoeuvres that admit no mistake, pay every bill, visit every doctor, run all errands before the last boat leaves. And on top of that, keeping normal jobs and sending the kids to school. I’ve heard stories of an island lawyer wrapping herself in nylon bags to preserve her suit impecable while riding the boat taxi, and of kids kayaking to middle school.
Visiting those amazing self-made houses is almost as important as visiting the delta itself, and understandVisitar esas casas hechas a mano es casi tan importante ing what makes islanders choose that way of living is como visitar el Delta en sí, y entender qué hace a los priceless. isleños elegir Modesta |32 su estilo de vida no tiene precio.
ose that way of living is priceless.� su estilo de vida no tiene precio�
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San Francisco Solano, Solano, para los amigos. Es una localidad de Quilmes, que no la conoce ni la madre, que quiere ser independiente desde hace 50 años y proclama su autonomía, pero jamás lo logró. La intendencia es de Quilmes, pero los Solanenses no nos sentimos Quilmeños. Haber crecido en Solano te hace sentir fuerte, un gladiador sudamericano, o, muchas veces, un marginado… Un solanense tipo, convive, entre inundaciones y esperas de bondi de más de 40 minutos aceptándolas con total normalidad. Un solanense es fuerte, resiste mas de 2 horas y media de viaje en colectivo a capital federal: muchos de ellos lo hacen a diario, madrugando, viajando de pié, muy amontonados entre ellos. Viajan en la única línea de colectivo que llega a constitución, donde tendrán que tomar otro transporte más para llegar a destino. (Supe de muchos talentosos nacidos en solano que se frustraron durante el viaje y dejaron de intentar sus sueños…) Un solanense, ama u odia solano. Solano tiene una sola plaza. Una sola Biblioteca. Una Iglesia. Un solo hospital. Una comisaría y solo un cuartel de bomberos voluntarios. Tiene dos heladerías. El centro comercial está amontonado en 3 cuadras y siempre encontrás lo que buscás. (Excepto películas fotográficas de 120 mm) Tiene la feria mas larga de Sudamérica, donde la leyenda cuenta que encontrarás ahí mismo lo que alguna vez te han robado… De vez en cuando sale en las noticias, no suelen ser de esas que enorgullecen, pero los solanenses lo comentan entre ellos jactándose de que Solano salio en algún medio. Solano es una suerte de isla, si no crecieras, si no necesitaras ir a la universidad, si no necesitaras ir a un recital, si no quisieras ir a un teatro, si no necesitaras hacer Shopping, si no necesitaras zapatos lindos, si no necesitaras trabajar en una oficina, fábrica o lo que sea, si no necesitaras mejor asistencia de salud, acá, en solano, serías muy feliz.
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Solano te contiene, te hace feliz, pero solo si te conformas con lo que te ofrece. De lo contrario, la lucha por buscar lo que solano no tiene, será tediosa, desgastante, agotadora, pero nunca imposible. La lección de vida será “remar” con alegría...tener un auto…o decidir fatal desarraigo… Odié y extrañé solano mil veces. Me fui, volví y ahora me vuelvo a mudar. Solano es mi comienzo, el origen y el punto de retorno para volver a elegir, cuantas veces se me de la gana, el camino de mi vida. Mis mejores ideas nacieron en solano, mis mejores logros los festejé en solano. Esta nota fue tipeada en solano. Mi amor por solano está en el amor por mi propia vida, mis recuerdos, mi infancia, solano hizo de mí una gladiadora sudamericana mas, resistente y campeona en “remo”. No elijo solano para vivir el resto de mi vida, si eso fuera posible decidirlo, solamente me conformo con haber empezado a vivir mi vida allí.
Mila Martorelli (La hija del tano, para los solanenses)
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Meet
María Schurr
On this open space for rainbow showers of coolitude, you’ll read a series of interviews with people who aren’t hot A-list celebrities, but that goddamn should. People that don’t lack the talent, attitude or beauty. They just lack the money and a house in L.A. People whose personalities, lives and art make me their number one fan. My friends!
Who are you? D: I am an independent musician and writer who lives in an ancient 100 acre farm, on a flat treeless field North of Toronto, outside the village of Hillsburgh. To make money for things I teach high school. I am thirty five. I am single. I grow my own vegetables. I put out music under Devin and the Dark Light. I currently have an awesome band backing my stuff. Sometimes I think I am slowly going blind from a deteriorating corneal eye condition I’ve had since I was 21. But it seems to have stabilized. M: What is the name of your eye condition? D: I have a condition called Kerataconus or Cornea Estacia Dystrophy. (incorrect spelling I suspect.) It is where the thinning corneal membrane is slowly becoming conular due to pressure from the eye itself. I need to wear rigid gas permeable contact lenses to see anything. They hurt sometimes and I always looked high because my eyes are red and dry. M: How common is your eye condition? D: It’s not that common. About 1 in every 1000 people have it. I met one woman once at the doctors office. She was a beautiful Greek and my age. We stared at each other with red eyes. I think the doctor was trying to hook us up. Its mainly a gene found in people who have down syndrome. Which i don’t have and it doesn’t run in the family. M: I am a quiet person who works in a library at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC and who spends way too much of her free time thinking about music. I also write here and there. D: What do you write? M: I went to grad school for creative non-fiction, but since receiving my MFA, I’ve just been pushing myself to write in general. On most days, the results are nothing more than journal entries. If I’m feeling ambitious, I’ll write a music review every week or so. I eventually want to do something with my thesis from grad school, and finish I short story I began earlier in the year.
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M: Aurinko mentioned you dressed as Rick Moranis’ “Ghostbusters” character for Halloween before, so--what is your favorite non-”Ghostbusters” Rick Moranis movie? D: My favourite non-Ghostbusters Rick Moranis stuff would have to be from his early SCTV days. My brother and I loved it when we were young. We’d even play out being characters like Count Floyd and any Guy LaRue. I often played Mr. Moranis’ character Jerry Todd, who had his own TV show where all he would do is play with the special effects on his mixing board and yell at his producer. I guess Honey I Shrunk the Kids is ok. I’d like to get shrunk like that someday and try to get back to my house fighting ants and stuff. What led you to choose your career path? M: I moved to New York to go to graduate school for writing. While there, I took on a work-study job at a fashion/design library (The Gimbel Library at Parsons School of Design). Two of the librarians there had worked previously at the Met’s main research library (The Watson Library). They got word on a job opening, passed the information to me, and--three interviews later--the job was mine. Getting the job was the luckiest I’ve ever been. I had never considered a job in libraries, but as a gig the publishing industry appeared less and less plausible, it seemed an obvious choice. D: I have many Librarian friends. Is it true that you are all sex goddesses beneath the glasses? M: Hahahaha. Speaking from personal experience, I work with some attractive librarians, but I don’t think any of them seem the sex goddess types. And I’m not yet a librarian, so I can’t really speak for myself! I’m sure there are librarians out there somewhere who fit that description, though. D: What sounds in the city stick out the most to you? M: Any distressingly loud noises--I grew up in the quiet, so the subway screeching to a halt and wailing sirens are noises I find particularly jolting. D: I am curious about everything on the planet, but get bored easily. I have always written music, mainly rock and roll. I love reading so I went to McMaster University in Hamilton and got people I thought smarter than me to tell me which books I should read. I learned how to write properly and research during that time. I minored in Religious Studies which brought heart to the Literature I majored in. In Hamilton I recorded lo-fi home-folk under the moniker Leaves. I put out 2 tapes under DeadBum records. I lived in Europe for a couple years playing music and teaching English to see if I liked teaching, but also to pay for booze. After a work stint in England making donuts at music festivals, I came home to Canada and worked in group homes for highly aggressive men with autism. Three years of burn out and at the constant act of songwriting and recording and playing in a 8 piece rock orchestra called the Haymakers (where I learned how to play the trumpet
poorly), I put out my own CD in which I played and produced everything. I wrote many screenplays, short stories, poems, songs and the novella The Lending Heart in my late 20’s through an Toronto Arts Council grant. After applying to film school and teachers college at the same time I decided to teach and let that motivate my creativity. Moving to the Stones Throw Farm 2 years ago propelled me to write and record Summer Vampires and put out a 60 song box set of archived material called Dead Sense. Due mainly to the Harmony Rainbow Group, a loose collective of young artists in the area that emerged after the Haymakers broke up; artists involved and co-dependently supporting each other in animation, music, short film, design, rock operas, festivals and such. Right now the Dark Light and I on the verge of releasing our next LP Loud to Live With on Dec 5th. So what lead me here? Consistently sacrificing relationships in the most stupid way. Reading too much. Solitude. Smelling the wind with my luggage in hand and heading toward the dreamy scents. M: Did you enjoy your time making donuts at music festivals? D: I loved making donuts and doing music festivals. What other ways could I have seen bands I couldn’t see in Canada that often... like Cornelius from Japan, Guided by Voices, Jon Spencer, etc. and all the doughy-gluten I could eat. My uncle ran the business so I had it easy. Met loads of neat folks. M: Has any of your writing been published? D: Some minor poetry appeared in a mag called BeatRed back in the mid 90’s. I did write for the MacMaster University Silhouette and got to interview cool bands like Seam, the Verve, the Charlatans and write music reviews. I got a grant from the Toronto Arts Council to write ‘the Lending Heart.’ that’s going to be in Modesta. But never before. What is the best book an English teacher has recommended you? D: BP Nichol’s H - its was a great introduction to concrete poetry. The Brothers Karamatzov by Dostoyevsky. Slaughter-House Five by Kurt Vonnegut. Which writer inspired you to write/create art? M: Hmm...I’m not entirely sure, as my mom read a lot to me as a kid and that act alone probably had more to do with it than anything. It was most likely someone like Roald Dahl, who I picked up and read independently and who I still love reading to this day. His stories are just so bizarre, and with such great twists. I was a big Laura Ingalls Wilder (of Little House on the Prairie fame) fan as well, though.
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M: Do you have a certain time each day that you set aside as your “writing time”? And how do you function on such little sleep? D: I usually write as soon as I get home from work. By write I mean play the piano for 2 hrs. During this time, if I am inspired at all I will write a half song or so. And then try to mesh it with something else I’ve been working on in the past to see if they fit well. As for words, they come as I write the music but I usually start out with a couple of phrases in the verse, then finish the music and then leave it for a day and work on words if I am inspired in the evenings. I set aside to try and have a Sunday free a couple times a month where I throw up a mic and demo songs. I used to write everyday when I was working on short fiction, but I’d have to parcel time into 20 min- 30 min schedules wherein I’d have to complete a paragraph (or mini-chapter). I’d plot out stories on a huge chart paper in grids (one row per character) and know where I’d want my characters to end up in the plot, then write one part a day until I’d fill the whole plot grid on the chart. I eat really well. And because I work a really scheduled job I am up at the same time and eat at the same time exactly each day. I do yoga when I’m stressed (if I have time). It doesn’t always work though. I do get run down and need to have a good sleep in most Saturday morns and Sundays. A sip of the marijuana leaf keeps me up, focused and motivated when I need it. But maybe don’t print that. I also take a load of crazy vitamins and St. John’s Wort oil. *What do you like most about your career? D: I feel like I’ve ambled on a path without really making big decisions until the last 5 years. I like that I have compiled a significant base of experience, which makes me feel confident, but also fills me with fear. I love the people I’ve met who have given real passion and compassion. I like that where ever I went, in which ever language they spoke, people who really knew me related me to a monkey or trickster or something spritely. Hating it at the same time because I’m short. M: It’s not the common 9--5 office job; I’m on my feet all day, doing sometimes strenuous stuff. The appreciation patrons sometimes direct your way helps the self-esteem out a bit.
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“Bad music is unreflective of the creature who made it. Anything uncommitted to experimentation.”
D: What’s your least favourite part about your work? M: The three other technicians and I rotate duties throughout the months, which means that I have mailroom duties every three months. Opening boxes of books padded in styrofoam peanuts and bubble wrap is dusty, monotonous work. Also, I’ve had run-ins with the box cutter on more than one occasion because I was listening to inappropriate music while cutting boxes open. *Who was the best teacher you ever had? D: Any English teacher that made me fall in love with them. My father for looking in my eyes and talking straight. My mother for making me love nature. Many friends for reflecting my faults and still accepting me. My students everyday. Stewart Gunn, who is a friend and is currently teaching me how to play the piano properly. M: I had two really amazing professors as an undergrad--one was an English professor and one was a hardcore philosophy nerd. They both challenged and turned me on to new things. In grad school, I took a class on inter-textuality and other roundabout ways of telling a story. The professor who taught it really encouraged us to do everything outside of the box, but made things really fun as well. I really, really admired her for that. *How do you find the balance between working and creating? D: I don’t have a girlfriend. That helps. I stay up late and don’t sleep enough and have to be directive with the people who are willing to help me. But mainly just keep consistently writing everyday, if I can, and bringing that creative work into the classroom. I teach Writer’s Craft and Guitar and other Academic English classes, where I can involve the kids in my current work and passions. M: It’s very hard, and I’m still getting a routine down; I just force myself to do some form of writing each day, and if it means having to stare at the computer monitor for 45 minutes, so be it. If I don’t write one day I’ll make myself read more. *What is one instrument you wish you could play? D: Oh good one. I like this question. I wish I could play the violin or cello well in order to record them on new ideas. But I think I’d like to play the theremin too just because I’ve never tried it. The Sitar for that matter too. And a huge pipe organ in a Cathedral. Anything I haven’t tried. Something that will drone louder than I’ve ever heard. M: The violin would be nice to learn too, but like Devin, I have soft spot for theremins. What is it about the theremin that’s just so cool? D: I love its voice. It is electric but produces such a human voice. I wonder of it’s potential to be looped and mutated. What’s its lowest frequency I wonder?
*Bad music is ______ D: ...Unreflective of the creature who made it. Anything uncommitted to experimentation. M: Subjective. *Good music is _____ D: ...something that makes my shoulders shrug or my heart stop, fill up and lift. Music that makes me close my eyes to listen closer. I like every genre. Right now I’m listening to a lot of Harry Nilsson, Roy Orbison, Spoon, The Walkmen, Robin Hitchcock, Neko Case, and the Dead Milkmen. M: Also subjective, but more fun to discuss. *Do you have any other artistic talents? If yes, what are they? D: I’m not that visual and take pain in doing our album and t-shirt art, and always need much help. I did do some print and litho art once. And was into camera and photography for a couple years. I am getting into creating striking vegetable and flower gardens on the property. I like doing sound at the festivals we put on. I’ll put on a robot costume anytime my friends want to perform our old rock opera. M: I can play the guitar a bit, and I used to know how to play the flute. Maybe I have a slight knack for collages. *What are your thoughts on the indie aesthetic? D: I think this is very important. I think great art comes from individuals. We all need help financially to make art and it seems that independent artist don’t have much so their art tends to be heart-driven as opposed to money-driven. The freedom these artists exhibit is extremely important to any culture. They are only trying to sell and support what they love instead to making others who know how to organize networks rich. Indie artists put the aesthetic first, $ second, I found. And the kind of legacy of work they leave in worth more than
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sponsorship. Saying that, I would not mind being able to fully support my music in an easier way. M: Although I find a lot of the NYC indie artists really pretentious, I respect anyone that devoted and willing to make sacrifices for the sake of the things the create. *What makes a good live show? D: Mistakes. Everyone tries to be perfect on stage. When I play I try to avoid the stress of getting it right and want to have fun. When I am jumping around while playing guitar and singing I usually fuck up more often, but the audience can feel what I am trying to do more. It makes it more exciting and fun. Real drama in the voice. Authentic playing and focus. Swelling loud guitar, loops and organs are also good at live shows. Nothing fake. Tube Amps. M: Perfecting that balance of being otherworldly and human at the same time. Nick Cave does it really, really, really well. *How many languages do you know? D: English is my main language, but I speak French, German and a little Czech poorly. I understand French the most, but couldn’t discuss aerodynamics at any length. M: In high school and college, I was really good at French and Italian, respectively. I’ve been meaning to brush up, but I’m a bit of a slacker. I know basic Spanish as well. Was it very difficult learning Czech? D: I didn’t learn much Czech, because it is very difficult, yes, but also because few people would teach me. They said it was too hard. And it’s true! There are tenses that exist in Slavic languages that have no comparison in English. There are something called ‘genetives’ that I can’t wrap my head around. And also everyone just wanted to practice their English on me. That was ok. *What is one language you wish to learn? D: I’d love to know Hindi. So I could understand and know what I’m saying when I try devotional ragas. Japanese would be interesting too because of it’s grammar and pictoral sense of language. M: Learning Russian would be way cool. *What is your idea of hell? D: Being deaf and having the people I love beat me up and berate me with ugly faces of hate. M: Going broke and being forced to move back to my hometown.
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“What makes a good live show? Mistakes. Everyone tries to be perfect on stage. When I play I try to avoid the stress of getting it right and want to have fun.” *What are the best/worst things about Facebook? D: I like Facebook, living so far from people. I like when people who I gave up on getting to see ever again reconnect. I like seeing my friend’s art online. I don’t really have issues with Facebook anymore. But I remember hating this feeling of having a digital identity and being judged by others through it. It’s not real, but its a tool. I like good tools. Now that I can navigate Facebook I lost most of my initial disgust and fear of it. Is the end of the world when we get beyond being suspicious of our technology? M: Best: Most of my friends live elsewhere, so it helps me to keep in touch with them. Worst: The quizzes and stuff are kind of lame
Me rĂo de Janeiro! por Fede Andreotti
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