“The Nomadic Firs bring psychedelic pop through a bedroom of reflection with their fun colors dipped in a garden of sound.”

~ June Wright with the Indie Lead

Nomadic Firs free internet album on ReverbNation is available for download. Their first full length album will be coming out in the summer. This should hold you over until then. The free download comes with eight tracks that have been recorded over the last three years. The lead single is called Heady May, and it will be on this summers release. The album is  being mastered by the father and son duo at Sonic Bloom recordings out of Michigan.

Photography By Holly Boos

Invisible images hide the ridges, a paradise left. Walking through the sand backwards it was the last day, before the first, in two places for different eyes. You can go anywhere and do anything, be anybody. It was easy to pick a kite, because I too have been let go, with only a faint curiosity toward the direction I’d be flying in. We can’t decide for them, or wish them to be something they are not; one track, its only one. The struggles indifference is a mighty burden to wear. I see the faint haze on the faces I barely watch each day. A real altruist doesn’t think about it. Their gold is free from theft, and a thief can only pretend. We all might be hiding.

I Don’t Speak For My Church by Nomadic Firs

The Star From Nomadica by Nomadic Firs

“The Nomadic Firs bring psychedelics in a multitude of ways” ~ Painter S. Bride

Originally finding his musical inspiration through turntables in 2001, Ryan Boos started the Reggae Sound System,which pushed donation based, crowd participation events. From there his production company A&B Society started doing house/techno events and curated multiple residencies in Michigan.

Now living in Tennessee, Ryan has spent the last few years in a private studio coming up with the Nomadic Firs original material.

The Nomadic Firs are quietly working on their first album.

Just a tiny bit of self promotion…

Photography By Holly Boos

One million roses of truth, or red for love.
I give them all away, with those quaint southern moments of two people connecting.
Depressing music to top 40 ears, but gorgeous and righteous to me, and maybe someday you.
Only I understand or can dissect this mayhem
The moments of disheartening past performances when you wish we could change that one reply.
The phone call you can’t make or receive.
You’re hiding behind yourself in the great divide…your high as hell now, while wandering for the touch of simplicity, and soul searching for education that you can’t seem to read about.
They call you troubled, you call it addiction.
They make little notes about you, while you fiddle with your fingers, like a child whose legs can’t touch the ground, sitting in his booster chair.
The door slams in and out.
The wind rushes around while you talk to yourself down ”Greed Street.”
Only sure thing is you standing on your own feet.
Rhythm then blues, and faces traced in red wine.
It drips down your back, it flows, it contributes, its morning, its love.
We have a seed to change the world, but we bury it too deep, therefore we cannot grow.
Same book I have been reading for the last five years.
It sits on ”chapter tears.”
I’m challenged by the kid spitting next to me, but defunct by the scholar teaching me.
Its cold and the north’s winds are colder. These roads spin you like a bottle of our favorite cheap whiskey.
Picture the smirk on my face, as I sit in your own personal lobby; acoustic mind, organic hobby, little hikes, and your body.
I kiss and whisk you away, in the future where we lay; together until we judge each other.
With the cool breeze and the fall effects, I hope to see you before and after I become a nervous wreck.

Resenting someone else for their work has never been something I felt comfortable accepting. Almost as if I resent something, but lie to myself about the emotion of it. Well, its fairly important to just let it be and the point of this series is honesty at all costs. I find it hard to accept another person’s work if I think their character is undeserving of any success, even though the measure of another person’s character is not up to me, I don’t decide, well who frickin decides then?  Its the ultimate dichotomy I’ve come to know so well. I want them to be highly successful, I just hate their personalities,I hate their f@king shoes, and their dumb artwork even though it looks amazing, so I hope they fail at the same time. Do I envy their success or do I envy the ignorance that leads their pretense? WTF!!! (thanks Marc Maron)

Hands Are Weird Looking

I think the hardest part about living in a creative world is getting over the illness of contempt for another person’s work. I could easily reduce them, like they do to so many others in order to feel better about themselves. That would be too easy, inevitably creating a monster who always runs from raw emotion. I think its wise to wrestle with these feelings. Let them weather me, and shape something to come, ah… something creative.  If I’m to be truly honest, the resentment feeds my muse, its doing so right now. Maybe thats a dangerous game to play with my creative spirit, but I think its healthy at this point. I seem to embrace and celebrate most people. But these cats are just f@cking rotten. I dislike them more as we spin through to summer. So enlightened in a still shot, but yet the truth can’t hide behind a camera, neither can the apathy that seeps from their quasi-earthy-dispositions. Get a new pair of shoes and stop spending so much time trying to look like you didn’t spend so much time, and just maybe I’ll wish you success. Wait, is this about me? No, but I can be pretty pretentious, and I need a new pair of shoes. I want a pair of those Toms, they look cool man.

F@%k you resentment, and f@%k you Mr. Apathy. This one was made for you and me.

Photography By Ryan Boos

The bold shadow expressed through a crisp gold sun, reveals a pawn transcending a chameleon. They took its essence, and endured the catatonic minutiae of daily feedlots in a paid parking structure. The accused raced his horse, which equaled a heart. They fawned and its suspect came through a vineyard of cold spoils.Their face structure peeled consistent indifference, and attempted to be another face. But that smile is too tough to burn, and too inept to swear off newness on another level. They’ll  try to carry on through with their swords, which bend the pages that turn its dogma. It’s not in the shield you find love, but the bastards expression will take you there, convincingly.

Moments are like bridges. The tough part is knowing which ones to burn, and which one’s to cross. In the end you trust what you know, which is what you see. An action speaks more than any  group of words. Multiple actions add up to tell a story, the hope is that within it, you learn something about yourself, and about the way in which you convey your actions. Essentially creating a full circle, inevitably equaling what amounts to your life. I only hope that in the end my actions create a distance which suggests an obvious lesson in learning from my mistakes. Not for anything else but a hope that true peace will be afforded to me.

So far so good I think.

I’m thinking about the complexity of formulating an opinion on any person, subject, or emotion. And I continually wonder if the effort is worth it. Would it be easier just to say something along the lines of “I can’t give an opinion on that without prejudging the conclusion?” This essentially correlates with anything. How can we remove the knowledge that comes before the object we are asked to judge? We all decide or judge almost everything; otherwise we would never make any choices. I think I might try this idea when it comes to people. Maybe rather than allow the former action of others, and my opinions of those actions to take a hold of future judgments, it would be better just to convey this revelation. Example, “What do you think of John Doe?” The person before this revelation would have said, “I think John Doe is an Asshole.”  Now I will refrain from that, and just say. “I better not comment b/c my prejudices will cloud the opinion you’re asking me to convey.” This might work, but then again the former self would still be thinking John Doe is an asshole – Therein lies the rub.

Rumination_Station is a new series of random thoughts typically conjured up by my current reads. I hope you assist me in trying to figure out what the hell is going on “upstairs.”  This is a random series in which I intend to share the most random of revelations, and I hope you “streak to the convo.” WHAT?

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Holly L. Boos Photography

A picture taken in 2007 from Eaters Guild Farm. Photo of the day by Holly L. Boos, creator of OlioTree designs.