"The Bison Range sounds like the perfect place for you. I get what you mean about music entering the atmosphere in a brash way. There is so much noise here all the time, it would be nice to just turn off most of it. On this block, at the Marador, it's constantly loud. People, cars, construction, trains stamping out whatever subtle sounds have been here longer, like birds or leaves moving against leaves. Janet Jackson said once, on some VH1 interview I saw when I was eight years old, that she doesn't like to listen to music very often. I get it. Last night, around 9pm, Dane and I walked around Pattee Canyon without aim or attention to time. You know those tall pines? The wind blew high, not low to the ground where we were, but high up at the tip-tops of the pines, creating a constant yet wavering drone. Just that wind and Dane's voice punctuated by scattered bird calls. In the last week I have heard so many sounds that I haven't wanted to hear: a couple fucking upstairs, an enormous bongo drum-karaoke all night loser party. The whooshing sound the wind makes when it flies through the tops of the pines is what I want to hear. Sometimes putting on a record or the radio is painful in that it's just another layer of noise that I am sick of listening to."
-Excerpt from a letter to R. M. Flynn, June 2012
