Review from France...

There’s a beautiful review this morning, little sweetheart, of both the 2018 albums - Sometimes in Dreams and Til Morning Is Nigh -  from France. Citing you by name, of course, and some of the songs most bound up in your beautiful spirit, they call the new album “Dreamlike, luminous and enchanting” and have much to say about Sometimes, as well. I’m posting the full link in French below but here’s a translated excerpt:

“We couldn't talk about 2018 without mentioning Bipolar Explorer. The New York dreampop/shoegaze duo continues to deliver. Once again, the couple Summer Serafin (spoken word, vocals) and Michael Serafin-Wells (guitar, bass, percussion, tape loops, vocals, spoken word) send the listener into a parallel yet reassuring universe with Sometimes In Dreams. With this double album, Bipolar Explorer bring us with them diving into their intimacy in the most solemn and purest way possible.  Alternating between Summer Serafin's spoken word passages and Michael Serafin-Wells's emotional flights of lyricism, the New York duo astounds us beauty. Both cathartic and luminous, this eighth album of the New York couple puts shoegaze back into a state of grace…”
 - Les Oreilles Curieuses

As ever, my little sweetheart, it’s all for you. All for you, my gorgeous girl.




Les Oreilles Curieuses full review

"The Most Beautiful Thing..."

Little sweetheart, as I mentioned last week (in the post that spoke of how in my best moments I hope I'm doing my best to keep devoting the rest of my life to you) I've been working on a live performance art adaptation of our double-album for you, Of Love and Loss. In October we had a concert performance of it in Brooklyn and after that I rewrote it replacing the idea of actors with a female spoken word narrator who, performing in tandem with us (the band), takes us on the journey, sort've like in a radio play or a novel - the narrative voice along with the music and lyrics, ya know? We have an idea to do it in either something like an art gallery (indeed, we think of this now more as an art installation than a tradition theatre "production") or a sacred space or even outside in a beautiful place. We're looking for a visual artist to collaborate with, maybe using film projections - I'm putting some together myself, meantime - and I've sent the manuscript out to a few people. One of them, that nice filmmaker, Alexandra Dennis-Renner, from USC who's doing the documentary about us, little sweetheart, wrote me to share her thoughts after reading it. It's so very much about you, my darling, I thought I'd post it here....

"I don't know how technical to get, so I'll leave it at this: It's wonderful.

I'm not sure how to describe the piece as a whole other than it just works. It flows, it weaves in and out of itself in a way that knits everything together into this tight, soft little package, and even though its meant to be abstract, there's a definite beginning-middle-end that gives you a sense of both resolution and anticipation.

I can imagine it so clearly as a stage show (a really wicked one...can't wait to see it in the flesh), yet it makes so much sense as literature. It's like a play and you read it like a play, but it's still such a different beast all of its own. The little quirks: the narrative uniqueness in the stage directions, the overall intimate, interactive nature of the show--they keep you invested and eager to see what happens next. But not in the typical Freytag pyramid sort of way...it's more hypnotic than that. You're not following the narration and the story intellectually as a listener/audience member, but emotionally. It's like you're living this series of events and you have to keep following because you don't have a choice. You're living this moment and it's not up to you to stay engaged in the story or not. It's as if the story and the narrator are this proxy for life/the Universe/fate/whatever you want to call it and they're pulling you by the elbow through everything because that's how living and being present in something greater than yourself works (I hope that makes sense).

The atypicality of this show is all so conducive to BPX and everything the band has become over the course of three albums. It's this total, physical representation of the soul of the band and the music. It's not just this-or-that. Not just a story, not just a play, not just a record or a song or a way two people fell in love. It's all of these things together existing not just in the same realm but within each other that invoke a completely new experience. It's like the liberal arts degree of music or theatre: you realize how all these different, seemingly related yet removed elements compliment and further each other....but rather than coming together to create a more rounded education, they allow you to have a complete moment. They make you a whole person (emotionally, intellectually, spiritually, artistically, personally) while you're immersed in the show.

I loved the shared storytelling between you and Jason. It was seamless. And the humor...oh my god. How Summer would eat bananas with a knife and fork...the bit about putting Equal on individual pieces of dark chocolate. It's just so funny. The whole show has this love and warmth wrapped around it, but that moment in particular, that (dare I say) comic relief added all the more authenticity and fondness. It added an even warmer depth to her as a person and the show as a portrait of her being.

It's 25 pages... easy enough to get through in one sitting, but I'll be honest: I had to stop and take a break once or twice because I was overwhelmed with every emotion arguable. It really delivers a wallop to the senses... it's going to be a powerful piece of visual art.

On a less technical note: There's no doubt in my mind that Summer is an incredible human being. The way you talk about her, the way you create for her... it's so obvious that she's a presence and a beautiful force all her own and I want nothing more than to know her. This show has the potential to do that. I wouldn't be surprised if she was there at every staging breathing this little bit of her own essence into the performance. But even more so (and thinking about it brings tears to my eyes), I want whatever it is that you two have. I want to find someone or something that I love that deeply and that gives me a reason to live so graciously. It's the most goddamned beautiful thing.

I'm so very excited to see where this goes and the kind of joy, grief, catharsis, inspiration, imagination, closure, realization it brings to the people who see it and take part in it..."


So am I, little sweetheart. And it's all for you. Everything is. Love you forever.

A Meditation and Sonic Prayer

Little sweetheart, today is the day we release the new album. It's called Electric Hymnal. You're on it, of course, both singing and in spoken word and we've been describing it as "a meditation and sonic prayer" for you. Which it most definitely is. Love you forever.

We'll All Go Together

Tonight is the bitter anniversary of your passing, my little sweetheart. I've been trying to keep busy and to honor you all day. We're working on the new album. It's basically completed recording-wise, we're heavy into mixing just now. But something else came up today... I heard a song on WFMU on Irene's's show Tuesday night. It’s a traditional Scottish song that I first heard in Ireland. Remember, my sweetheart? I sang it for you in the pub in Kilcrohane when we were there. I never tried to play it on guitar before. But it got into my head and I tried working it up Wednesday. I figured out the melody line but I couldn’t cop the chords and I was getting very frustrated. Finally, a little voice told me to stop, have something to eat and DRINK SOME WATER and watch Rachel Maddow. I wonder who that could have been? Anyway, I left it alone. I got up this morning and was mixing all day until Jason was meant to arrive for practice. We got set up about to run through all 16 tracks of the new record in its entirety when I suddenly I decided to try and play the Scottish song again, much more simply. We both were in tears. At the end of practice, we played it twice more and then he had to go. I sat down and recorded this over the last couple of hours. I think we may work more on it but somehow, this just felt right. Like you led me to it. I made this little video to go with it. The whole thing recorded, mixed, video, released to honor your memory on this day. I know, I just know that you are with me, my angel. And soon we'll be one once more. Yes, my sweetheart. And We’ll All Go Together. With all my love... xM

About Taize, About the Album, About You, Little Sweetheart

Little sweetheart, we have a rough mix of the entire new album, Electric Hymnal. I'm still working on the final mixes but it's assembled. Soon, we'll send it up to Old Colony in Boston for mastering. Sean let me know today that he has time next week to work on the art. So, here we go. I wrote some liner notes for the record today. They talk about how it came to be, about what Taize is and most importantly, as ever, how it is so very much about you - my true love, my soulmate, my partner, my best friend, my everything. Here it is, little sweetheart:

About this record:
So… what do we have here? I feel like I should give a bit of background, a bit of context.

If you already know our band, you’ll probably know that we lost our female vocalist, my partner, my soulmate, the love of my life, Summer Serafin, after a tragic accident that took her life in March of 2011. Our records since then have and always will be largely of, for and about her. Literally, “of” because Summer’s vocals continue to grace each album, thanks to the plethora of material she recorded with me and that I keep on hand and cherish. In the aftermath in trying to find my way, Jason joined the band and together we picked up where Summer and I left off to create our first record post-tragedy for her, our double-record, Of Love and Loss in October 2012, following up with last year’s album, Angels - each named to Ground Control Magazine’s Critic’s Poll of Best Albums of the Year, in 2013 and 2015, respectively.

Writing and recording and releasing music in tribute to Summer has been enormously helpful to keeping me going and keeping me close to her. In the terrible void of her physical absence, music has helped keep me centered and mindful. Another thing that’s helped is what inspired this record that you now hold in your hands.

It’s a bit of a roundabout story but please bear with me because its very roundabout nature is what I think makes it so resonant - that way that seemingly disconnected things lead us to the thing we need.

While visiting Summer’s wonderful parents, Mike & Linda, in NorCal, I drove up on my own to the place we call The Angel. I go as often as I can when I’m out there and spend the day, stopping for hours to bring flowers and talk to my sweetheart there at the place where we honor and remember her and where I believe she alights to comfort us (because I know she’s not bound to that plot of land but is everywhere). As I left, the radio came on in the car and I heard a program called On Being, hosted by the very thoughtful Krista Tippet. President Obama, also a listener has described her show as “thoughtfully delving into the mysteries of human existence, embracing complexity and inviting people of ​every background to join her conversation about faith, ethics, and moral wisdom.” I became a devotee of her show and one day heard a program which found Ms. Tippet interviewing an author who spoke passionately about music and faith. It made such an impression on me, I sent the link to Summer’s mom.

A few weeks later I was walking around the Upper West Side and I came across a pretty little church, West End Collegiate, that had a banner outside announcing a book event for the same author, visiting from Colorado. I turned up that night and immediately felt I was in the right place. It wasn’t grand, it was comfy and welcoming. The pre-event music was music that Summer & I held dear - DCfC and Bon Iver and The National. Clearly, some of the assembled were the author’s crowd but plenty were just the community - kids running around underfoot, the young and the older, beret-sporting Upper West Side lefties. It felt very homey. It stuck with me. And I noticed after the event a sign for something else they did at West End weekly - a candlelight meditation service called “Taize” held on Wednesday nights. I told myself that I should check that out some time.

It took a while. But West End Collegiate was in my path returning from my regular Monday appointment with my grief counselor. I’d leave exhausted and in tears and happen past it again and again. Finally, I made my way up there one Wednesday night. Like the book event, Taize was held in the sanctuary. But the lights were low, the space mostly illuminated by scores of candles on and around the altar. A pianist and a guest musician sat to the right. It was a small gathering, not more than twenty. A handbill laid out the order of the service: over half a dozen songs - short, chant-like musical phrases, meant to be repetitive, often anthemic, some in Latin, others in English - alternating with spoken word passages both sacred and secular (a beautiful Sylvia Plath poem among them that first night), prayers, a benediction and at its center a 10-15 minute silent meditation when the lights, already dim, would be lowered yet further and those assembled invited to light a candle and say a silent prayer if they wished.

I still find it impossible to truly convey what a profound and mindful experience Taize is. Indeed, when I first met up with a colleague here in New York after I started attending he said to me “so, you’re going to church…” in the same sort of tone of voice one might reserve for a phrase more like “so, you’re blowing goats…”. There’s a very deep cultural distrust of the religious that we are entirely aware of. It’s a bit more palatable to people if you call it “spiritual” but we’re not under any illusions. That quote from Spinal Tap - “on what day did the Lord create Spinal Tap (insert: Bipolar Explorer) and could He not have rested on that day, too?” -  comes to mind. But if you’ve read this far, perhaps I can tell you more.

Taize has become an important part of my week and my life. I won’t say “recovery”. I don’t believe there is recovery from devastating loss, I don’t even recognize it as a goal. It’s supposed to be hard. It’s supposed to hurt. You just have to learn, at best, how to carry it and to carry and honor the lost beloved in your heart and memory, keep them close and, for me at least, have faith. I’ve learned a lot about Taize - it’s origins, tradition, how it’s practiced in far flung places. Taize itself is the name of the village in the south of France that birthed its practice. The monastic community there created the service as an inclusive all-faiths one nearly a century ago, with its simple chant-like hymns, reflective readings, silent meditation and prayers… and candles.

Once we set out on this project we had the great support of our friends at West End - Pastors Michael Bos and Jes Kast-Keat, Music Director extraordinaire Cynthia Powell - and wound up sitting for a interview with Yale’s Marissa Glynias, who’s writing a book/dissertation on Taize and who we quite possibly learned more from than we revealed ourselves. Marissa has attended Taize services in every corner of the country and abroad in her research and said they’re all quite different but have one thing very much in common - the candlelight.

While we can’t bring you that here, what we did set out to do was as faithfully as possibly bring the feel and flow of a Taize service to this record, filtered through the lens of our experience and expression. I told Marissa in her interview that it wasn’t any kind of conscious effort to impose a foreign signature on these traditional songs. To us, it’s a very organic thing. Moved by the experience and practice of Taize, this material got into our bloodstream and the way that it courses through our veins feels and sounds exactly like this. It inspires us and because it’s become so central to my life, I felt I needed to share it in the way I do the most important things - through making records.

West End prints this introduction in its bulletin at every Wednesday night Taize: “Inspired by the monastic Taize community in the south of France, these Wednesday evening services are a way to focus ourselves to contemplate the beauty and mystery of existence and to relieve the stresses of the day. In the peace-filled space of this sanctuary, in the glow of candlelight, they provide an uncomplicated framework for quiet meditation, reflection, readings and music”. We hope, in some way, to bring that to you, dear listener, in the same way it has been gifted to us.

With a quick final word to and about Ms. Powell, West End’s brilliant music director, a breathtakingly gifted organist, conductor of several of New York’s finest sacred music ensembles (and consequently knowing the scores of world-class musicians she brings to grace Taize as guests each week) and who assembles each week’s Taize service, selecting and compiling the material - thank you and we hope some of our more adventurous renderings of this material so dear to us as we know it is to you doesn’t leave you muttering “you have got to be fucking kidding me”. Thank you.

And, as ever - For Summer.

With love & faith,

Michael Serafin-Wells
April 2016
New York City

Angels - Best of...

Little sweetheart, our record, Angels, has been named to Ground Control Magazine's Critics Poll of Best Albums of Year, topping Publisher and Contributing Editor Daryl Darko Barnett's Top Ten in the number one slot. There is a wonderful mention of you in the excerpt below and the entire feature can read at the link following that. All for you, gorgeous girl. My angel. My love.

"01.) Bipolar Explorer – Angels – (Slugg Records): The New York City minimalist indie rock band continues to capture my attention with their ongoing stream of super-consciousness musical tributes to their fallen band member, Summer Serafin. Angels feels and sounds like a visitation of angels has descended upon, and electrified these men as they express their emotions of memory and loss. This is what music fueled by raw love and emotions sounds like. The single, “Angels,” is definitely my very favorite song of the entire year! Bipolar Explorer remain my number one small label indie band to keep an eye on for future greatness..."

http://groundcontrolmag.com/this-was-the-year-in-music-the-best-of-2015/

Two For Tuesday

Little sweetheart, we were on the radio twice yesterday on two different shows. First on Liz Berg's great noon-3pm slot on WFMU. She opened her show with our soundscape shoegaze version of In the Bleak Midwinter. Then WFMU's legendary Irene Trudel opened her penultimate set of the evening with our dreamcore version of Silent Night - the one that has all that neat spoken word stuff of yours - in her 9pm-midnight program. It marked our 11th and 12th times on the station this year and 2nd and 7th times on Liz and Irene's shows, respectively, little sweetheart. Both tunes are from our holiday album, BPXmas which is turning out to be the best selling album in our catalog on iTunes. Sweetheart, you're on the radio! At Christmas! Love you forever.

http://www.wfmu.org/playlists/shows/64186

"It's Christmas, Sweetheart" video

Little sweetheart, there's a new band video, our 10th. It went live last night. It's for the song "It's Christmas, Sweetheart" - the opening track on our holiday record BPXmas. When Daryl Darko Barnett interviewed us in Ground Control I told him about writing it - that I had the guitar part and was working on the lyric, singing "It's Christmas" over and over, when suddenly I heard the word "sweetheart" finish the line. I didn't think about it, it just came out of me like a transmission I was receiving, like my heart was a pair of rabbit ears antennae. And I burst into tears because I knew that was you helping me, chiming in from The Forever, chiming in from so much closer than I can imagine, to comfort and help and join me. Thank you, my love. It's Christmas, Sweetheart...

Today...

It’s my second to last day in NorCal, little sweetheart. I go back to NYC tomorrow night on an overnight flight that will get me to JFK at 6:30am. Gah! I’ve not been home much since September - first the play out of town and then this trip. Yesterday was a great day. Beautiful, sunny and warm here and I drove down to SF to meet Greer Sinclair - a woman our producer wanted me to talk to - from the SF Art Institute who the band may collaborate with for the alt-theatre adaptation of Of Love and Loss. She is studying film and may do projections for us. She really liked the music and script and our idea and those videos (remember, sweetheart, I made a series of music videos - 9 in all - for songs from Of Love and from Angels from last July?) and she showed me some of her own work which uses a lot of atmospheric and silent movie type public domain footage. I think you'd really like it, my love. It’s very beautiful and kind of perfect. And I really liked her. I think she’s very sympatico. I think we’re on the same page. We’ll see how it goes, but possibly our next step with this will to be do something out here either in SF or LA.

Anyway, I drove down in the rental car to meet her in North Beach but I parked over by the Marina - where we first met, my darling - so I could look at a performance/gallery space over there. I looked around for a little while. I went up to where the theatre was and the stairs where you and I sat one afternoon between shows and shared a chicken pot pie I'd brought from home and warmed up in the microwave backstage. I walked all around and looked at the water and the boats going by and then climbed the long steep stairs into the park and beyond and began walking the hilly route over to meet Greer at this neat little cafe. I forget how beautiful and heartbreaking a place SF is, my darling. Just gorgeous.  My heart was so full. My thoughts filled with you.

The cafe was on Vallejo near Columbus. I was a bit early so I kinda settled in. Soon, Greer arrived and we talked and showed each other video, like I said, on our phones. After, still talking excitedly about you and how we might go forward, we went for a walk around North Beach, past City Lights Bookstore and some neat bars and a beautiful church at the edge of Washington Square and finally wound up at the Art Institute. That place is brilliant. You'd love it, my little sweetheart. An exhibit/reception was going on so we walked around there and then Greer took me up on the roof where there is a breathtaking panoramic view of the city. The building looks like the mission - a bell tower and a Spanish courtyard with a fountain. It was amazing.

Finally, I walked back to the marina and wandered through the rest of the Fort Mason Center, thinking about us, sitting on some steps and remembering the first time we kissed there in the parking lot. I wandered over to the farthest corner building - the "Festival" one that's seemingly an old airplane hangar - and there was an event going on. It was full of Christmas trees. There must've been a thousand. And little stalls to buy ornaments or snacks and drinks. Loads of people were wandering around with their kids and dogs and holiday music was playing. I took a turn through there, taking in all the sights and sounds and the strong, cozy scent of pine. Then I walked over to the newest space, Gallery 308, where that amazing sound installation by Janet Cardiff  - the performance of Thomas Tallis's "40 Part Motet" I told you about and saw last year up at The Cloisters - is now going on. It was wonderful. Very moving. I kinda couldn't bring myself to leave. Finally around 8pm, I started the drive back north.

I’ve been listening to “Pet Sounds” on repeat and it’s inspiring me to start work on two new albums for the band, sweetheart. One will be dreampop arrangements of Taize music (those little chants that are a French monastic tradition and that I discovered going to that little church on the Upper West Side, I've told you about) and the other, six ambient drone pieces I’m composing for the series of photos Jacs Fishburne took of me in our studio, superimposing images of you and text you wrote, both handwriting and typed, over top. What do you think about calling it Double Exposures? That's what I've been thinking we might title it.

As I got close to home, closer to your folks's house, I decided to make a stop in Davis, little sweetheart, at The Nugget Market where you always used to take me. I got a nice blue scented candle in a little glass and took it out to the angel to sit with you there and talk a bit. It was hard leaving there, too. I got back in the car once and then turned it off and got back out and stayed a while longer, laying down on the stone and talking to you. The candlelight lit up both the stone and the angel's face - a stream of its golden light illuminating her sweet face. And I knew that's why you called me back. You wanted to make sure I saw that.

I feel lonely today, little sweetheart, as I often do. Sometimes it's so overwhelming and I don't know what to do with myself or why I'm here. But yesterday was nice, my darling. A good day. And I need to remember that. I know you're doing your best to comfort and point me in the right direction. Please help me quiet myself and listen for you. Listen to you. Hear. And please, my dearest dearest, Summer, take me to you as soon as heaven will allow. I love you with all my heart and soul...

Your Koala,

Michael

Downtown Train

Remember, little sweetheart, how a few years ago our friend John asked me to play guitar at his wedding? Remember I told you all about it? That he wanted me to sing Tom Waits's "Downtown Train", so I worked up an arrangement of it, rather moody, in the style of the band? And it went pretty well. Well, Jason & I tracked it a couple weeks ago. Then I did a few more overdubs and added spoken word by you and mixed it beginning of the week. I sent it up to Scott at Old Colony in Boston for mastering and we're going to put it out as the new Bipolar Explorer digital-single. I wish we could get it out in time for your birthday on Friday but it will be close it, at least. You'll be on the cover. We're using that picture I took of you in London waiting for The Northern Line at the Kentish Town Tube Station. I had Eva fly in titles over the existing signage. It should be out on iTunes later this month. All for you, my little sweetheart. Just like everything. It's all for you, my love.

Last night...

The concert performance in Brooklyn went really well, little sweetheart. A standing ovation, no less, and many in tears, including me, of course. I love telling people about you and talking about you and bringing something of the light you brought into my life to others. I truly believe I was born to be found by you and to love and care for and honor you. And I will do that to my last breath. It just feels right. You are goodness itself. And I long to be with you again in The Forever. With all my love...

Tonight...

Little sweetheart, here's a pic from the put-in rehearsal yesterday for the concert performance of OF LOVE adaptation tonight. A bit nervous and a bit concerned slightly too hipster a setting but trusting in the faith that when it's all about you, my Angel, it is true. As you famously said to me once and I carry in my heart with gratitude and faith, in the knowledge that we will be together soon in The Forever, "No matter where you are, whether you should be there or not and no matter who is present..." Yes, baby. I believe. And love you forever.

October 29

We're going to have what we're calling a "concert performance" of Of Love and Loss, little sweetheart, in Brooklyn later this month. I've written an alt-theatre adaptation of the double-album and we've been working with this very nice woman, Nina Keneally, who has extensive Broadway credits, to bring it to full-realized production in a found, possibly sacred space, later next year.

This "concert performance" will feature Jason & I playing Of Love in its entirety live with a female spoken word artist (our friend Kim Donovan) as narrator. It's all happening on Thursday October 29th as part of R&D Studio's Salon Series.

It's all happening, little sweetheart. It's all happening...

"Of Love" project...

I've been meaning to tell you about this for a while, little sweetheart. How to begin? Well, over the last year or so, independent of each other, several people - my lit agent, my filmmaker friend (Heather Winters), a few other colleagues- have encouraged me to conceive a "theatrical" (for lack of a much much better word) adaptation of Of Love and Loss, that would somehow bring the very intimate kind of experience it is hearing us play the song cycle to a slightly larger audience, with some added component, possibly, of theatre arts. I wasn't completely adverse to the idea but I didn't want it to be stupid. Elaine (my lit agent) had a program in mind that required no script, only a proposal and although we didn't ultimately get selected, it made me articulate something initially.

A few months later, little sweetheart, I met up with this woman, Nina Keneally, a theatre producer, who I've been in touch with sporadically over several years. She once wrote a really beautiful letter (back in the days when people did such things) to my previous agent about my play District of Columbia and we finally met up a few months ago so I could give her "Collected Plays". She was very moved by our story, my love, and interested to hear the music, so I gave her Of Love and Loss and happened to mention the adaptation idea. She went home and listened to the album and got very interested in the idea.

She immediately started thinking of venues and possible opportunities to work on it. She asked if I could just for a start write out all the lyrics and maybe some very simple line or two linking the songs.

I had a different idea - it's kind of hard to describe- but I wrote something. It's not really a play. It's certainly not a musical.

Some of the things I describe happening - with the band at its center and the audience close - are essentially realistic, a man and woman sitting in the space with us looking at the night sky together, her watching over him as he sleeps or he sensing her invisible (to him) presence talking to her looking in entirely the wrong direction but with utter conviction. Other descriptions are more illusory - an enormous reproduction of "Mediterraneo" (the Of Love and Loss cover) appearing brushstroke by brushstroke and at its completion, the woman emerging from the painting and the man going to her under the waves.

I don't know how we do this exactly and my thought is that it shouldn't even be in a theatre but in some found space or art gallery or a church. But Nina - whose producing credits include both the world of Broadway ("Good Vibrations", "Driving Miss Daisy", "Last Night at Ballyhoo") and the experimental music lab at American Rep Theatre, is committed to the idea. Things go wrong and people forget but at the moment this nice.

Our first foray into this is a kind of "concert performance" in Brooklyn on Oct 29. A woman in Bushwick runs this salon series of new works - art exhibits, concerts, film screenings - in an artists loft once a month. Nina knows her. We won't try to stage it at all. Jason and I will play and a friend of ours, Kim Donovan (your dad met her once, little sweetheart - she's from here but she's been working for Pixar out in NorCal since about the time you and I met) will read all we would see. Like a radio play version. Like a female narrator.

We hope it begins to give people an idea of what this might become - an evocation and testament of love and faith - in a way, while not yet staged, more powerful and intimate than listening to the album and reading the "script" at home. We hope.

Anyway, like everything, it's for you, my love. So I'm glad we're talking about it. Stay close to me, now, won't you? Don't go too far away. We're in this together, right? For now, between invisible worlds. And soon, forever, inseparable. With all my love...

Sunset Crush

The latest and 9th to date of the band's videos, little sweetheart. This one is for Sunset Crush - the closing track on the Angels album. As ever, you feature predominantly. And, as ever, for you with all my love...

Letter (to the Darkest Star)

We've been making a series of music videos, little sweetheart, and like everything, I think of them as of, for and about you. I learn something every time I do one and I like getting them out there (and here) because the music and the visuals help me keep my focus, just like the words can do, if it's about you, my love. I really believe that if I just remember always to listen closely, you will guide me with your presently invisible but always insistence presence. And I will find my way. I will find my way to you and forever. With all my love, my love...

"... and at that hour, above (perigee-syzygy"

Here's a new video, little sweetheart. It's for the instrumental, ...and at that hour, above (perigee-syzygy) from Of Love and Loss. Love you forever.

"Ocean" - Bipolar Explorer

New video for "Ocean", the third track of our double-record, Of Love and Loss, little sweetheart. I wrote the song for you after seeing this painting - "Mediterraneo" by Alex Alemany - dreaming of you meeting me under the waves and walking with you all the way to heaven...

"Angels" - Bipolar Explorer

For you, my little sweetheart. With all my love, forever.

You Are...

On the occasion of her 35th birthday, Bipolar Explorer play "You Are" for their fallen bandmate, Michael's love and partner, Summer Serafin, live at their studio in New York City. This song is the opening track on their forthcoming EP, Angels and is, as ever, dedicated, indeed of, for and about her. Summer Lindsay Serafin (November 13, 1979-March 18, 2011). With love forever.