Last night I heard a train whistle rise and fade outside my window in the blustery night. I have no knowledge of tracks running anywhere near my home, except in aged historical photos of the area. It was clear and resonant. I went outside and heard nothing, eventually deciding to drive to the store. The car and radio starting at the end of a discussion about trains as a preferred method of travel over light rail, or something.

It sounded nostalgic.

Although I apply no supernatural meaning to these events, I pay attention to them. If no clear sense of meaning arises (like last night) I take it as a wake-up call to vigilance. Like a talisman intended not to protect, but to remind. To make note of unfolding connections and currents in and around me, but mostly — to just pay attention.

This post is only remotely related to that, thematically at least. In the randomness of it’s discovery (a pretty ubiquitous and endogenous phenomena of the web), and more specifically it’s nostalgia. My friends and I dreamed of doing this very thing about 20 years ago.

The closest we came was an appropriated canoe we adorned with fighting tiger war paint and a well-stocked cooler. Less astoundingly crafted than Swoon’s flotilla found in Todd Chandler’s Flood for sure, but an indelible experience of off-the-grid adventure and freedom.

I’m looking forward to seeing this film. From the Flood site:

FLOOD is an experimental narrative journey. It begins on the water, on a fleet of hand crafted boats, pieced together from scrap and found materials . On water time twists and bends in mysterious ways. Some people aboard the rafts cannot remember a time before the water. Others are lost in their memories from a previous life on the land. Some remember the boats starting out as a summer project among friends. Others remember fleeing their homes. Still others remember that the way of living they used to know was no longer working, and that something had to give. As the flotilla creeps down the river the past, present, and future stories of the boats and their inhabitants becomes both clearer and more elusive.
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A mash-up of genres, Flood blends narrative, documentary, musical, and improvised experimental film. The film will be shot amidst the street artist Swoon’s Swimming Cities of Switchback Sea project, in which seven homespun boats will be built and crewed by an eclectic group of artists and performers. The boats will float down the Hudson River conducting performances as they stop in towns along the way.

The trailer and site I found this on introduced me to the moving sounds of Dark Dark Dark and Fall Harbor. Though I wouldn’t trade the playlist for our alligator chasing Everglade excursions, they seem perfect for Flood. Plus, I’m a sucker for singing saws.

Since Blanche’s description of watching the trailer echoed mine almost exactly, I’ll just copy/past in closing..

Although I’m not much for thick rimmed glasses (shout out to Tallahassee), I will admit the film is gorgeous and seems like it will be an incredibly moving narrative like a mix between Mark Twain, river rats, Noah’s ark, and two very talented–and not to mention aesthetically pleasing–bands. The presentation is awe-inspiring and the cinematography is seemingly outstanding. Definitely a strong collection of talented people.

A good find all around. Now, back to hunting down those tracks.

via: And So On…As It Was / Flood / Dark Dark Dark / Fall Harbor