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the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Toronto, 2002.10.04

Charlie and I went to the International Center out by the airport to check out a photography and digital imaging show. It took us 2 hours to get out there by transit (following the crazy directions on the show's site), and cost $10 at the door. Unfortunately, it was little more than a collection of vendors and stores pushing stuff you'd be able to find anywhere in the city. What a drag.

On the plus side, we were able to stand by the side of the road under a jumbo jet that was just touching down. Even with my fingers covering my ears, it was deafening. But really cool, with the reflective underside of the plane 20 meters over our heads.

rand()m quote

For a long time I was very bitter that the people who controlled the means of anybody ever hearing my songs were never gonna play them. They only favored music that I specifically and particularly hated, and I wanted them dead. Suddenly, there was another avenue. I started hearing my stuff coming out of bars and then it started to happen little by little -- a movie song here or a TV ad there.

—Iggy Pop