Primary Ocean

Things have been going well; visiting family, going to work, and - as always - chipping away at the sculpt of MidLife.

The pilot script is reaching it's climax - a section I've been itching to write for months, and finally have the thrill of putting down on paper. Before long, writing will totally wrap up, allowing me time to sketch out some concept art, finish the website, whip together "episode zero", and more. I'm very excited.

A Workspace of Chaos

My new job is going really quite well; if only because it gives me a good reason to slick back my hair. As I've not mentioned it before, I'm working the back room (and, occasionally, register) at an outlet; a department store offering clothing, decorations, foods, and more - all of which didn't manage to sell at larger, more mainstream retailers. I jokingly describe it as a "high-end thrift" to those who ask; though, admittedly, the joke may not be far from the truth.

A variety of Chistmas decor

I've been checking in on Macy's the past few days; sales are still going strong, though, just as last time, there's really nothing worth buying when their original prices were neigh insane. However, with so many fixtures available, there are some neat finds to be had - I bought a couple plastic signholders and mannequin limbs, perfect for future artistic endeavors.

I spotted a pretty neat piece of Macy's history hiding among the defunct furniture; a Christmas-themed mailbox, perfect for letters straight to Santa. It's sad seeing such a whimsical icon crammed behind caution tape, surely to be scrapped, stored, or simply shipped off to some company warehouse. If I weren't moving so soon, you bet I'd have made it mine.

Behind it was also a sort of countdown-to-Christmas clock, bearing the classic R.H. Macy & Co. label.

Santa himself

One of my favorite things about the location are the retro plastic palm trees serving as support pillars all around the store, which can be seen in my previous Macy's post; along with the baby-blue sky mural painted along it's ceilings. Beautifully outdated.

Outside it's mall entrance, a pair of similar palms hoist the store's sign - a very striking, creative display you'd likely never see in the dreadfully modern malls of now. I wonder what'll happen to the signage - if anything, at all.



With Sears gone, Macy's on the way out, and more than half it's stores serving as vacant storage space, Indian River Mall may not be around for long - I theorize, sooner than later, I might just see it pop up on BrightSunFilms' Abandoned series or as the backdrop to some glittery Vaporwave mix. Maybe I ought to beat the crowd.

I've been recently diving into the music of Japanese rock band Honeydip with their album Groovy Indian Summer, a pop-meets-shoegaze jam full of sunny melodies and rollicking guitar chords. My favorite is the unusually titled Suicidal Summer Rider - an exhilarating little tune sure to make you yearn for groggy sunsets and shiny days. Not me, though. I always have that.

I've also been listening to Lemongrass' Maison A La Mer, Versus' live performance of Moon Palace, The Residents' Kaw-Liga, Rocket Juice and The Moon's Follow Fashion, The Unfadable, and There, The Pixies' Ana, and Mac Demarco's My Kind of Woman. Gorillaz' album Demon Days has recently become my go-to beach soundtrack; unusual, I know, but something about it's dark, groovy atmosphere really matches the serene winds and skies of a grey midday coast.

I spotted a neat washed-up number of some kind beside the water a few days ago, covered in barnacles and visible wear; can't help but wonder if it washed up from some forgotten shipwreck out at sea, perhaps too old for any local to clearly recall. More likely, though, it simply fell off some random cargo freighter - but, either way, an interesting sight.