Hopping Freight To Denver

After having been gone for most of February and all of March I arrived back in Denver two weeks ago in need of a place to live. My eight boxes of assorted clothes, books, records and movies were in storage at my friend Patrick’s warehouse, and seeing as there were already two other people renting space from him I said why not. I’m sure that the hopeless romanticism associated with warehouse living will probably soon come to pass as I approach the end of my late twenties in the next few years and so perhaps this occasion will be my only chance to live in the oddest of spaces.

The former Pride Electric Company, which went bankrupt in 2004, is situated almost directly off the interchange of I-25 and I-70, the two major North South and East West Highways that meet in Denver. Globeville, as this area of town is known, also includes the small communities on the eastern side of 25 just off Washington Ave. When industry was booming in Denver post World War II there was a smelting factory just north up Washington that spewed pollutants into the Denver air, unregulated for years. Once the factory closed down it was discovered that the homes in this area had become highly contaminated with a myriad of bad stuff that had been falling from the sky. I don’t live on that side of the highway.

My new roommates include the musician Eric Bachmann. You should probably know his band Crooked Fingers. They’re on MERGE Records, a small true indie label that incidentally also happens to be home to Spoon and the Arcade Fire among others. His mere presence in the warehouse increases the appeal of my warehouse living experience, although he is currently away producing a record for a friend. There are occasionally packages in the front lobby from his other record label, Saddle Creek (yeah, he’s a Saddle Creek solo artist too). I’d like to think to myself that he’s receiving super top secret transmissions from Conor Oberst regarding either the state of the Omaha underground music scene or highly classified and rare Bright Eyes recordings. I mean I know that they aren’t but its kind of nice to imagine.

On the western side of Globeville are the railroad tracks that technically separate my part of the ghetto from the Highlands. As I was driving back from my studio today to the warehouse I noticed, an out of place man walking down a dead end street that dead ends at those tracks. He was wearing a heavy jacket and shouldering a knapsack, the old fashioned kind. He was trying to blend in but without any other foot traffic or cars in the area he was hard to miss. The nervousness of his pose and glances as he cross Fox Ave in my rear view made me wonder if he was hopping freight. Then about 15 minutes later as I was headed downtown to meet my friend for dinner and a movie I noticed a few other random individuals scattered about through the industrial void that exists along Park Ave between 25 and the ballpark. The train tracks also run right along the Platte River through there and then it occurred to me that all these guys were hopping freight and a train must have just come in. They were all walking away from the vicinity of the rail yard, hands jammed in pockets, heads down, looking their best to look like they belonged there, ducking in and out of holes in the chain link that hides the rails from the rest of the gentry.

Last night at the Hi-Dive, where my friends Elin and Audrey were playing, I ran into the Denver photographer, Gary Isaacs. Gary is a creative and visual force and as we met for the first time he asked me if I’d like to join him on some street walking missions around the city. He suggested that I film his encounters with random people as he tries to convince them to let him take their photograph. I eagerly said yes. I stumbled through my conversation with him and felt like an idiot for not fully being able to express my knowledge of film and photographs like I wanted to be able to. He’s taken photographs of everyone from Garrison Keillor to Mikhail Gorbachev.

Over the course of the past few weeks, as I left Sausalito and headed down to sunnier parts in Southern California, I began writing down some adventures that I’d like to embark on. While the idea of a Greyhound Bus adventure coast to coast does sound nice I’ll have to admit that there is a small fear of the claustrophobia of being stuck next to the recent parole who’s headed to Sandusky to scare up rent money by selling his body. Greyhound has its charms but its unpredictable makes it totally out of my control. So I proposed to my friend Brian that I hop in a van with him and Bon Iver on his summer/fall tour for two weeks. I’ll take photographs and shoot super 8mm. We will shower in truck stops, share one hotel room a night, and drink like fish. Nothing makes me smile more than the thought of driving around the country at the end of summer when the nights are short and the days are long. I’m hoping that they say yes.

ALESANA from the Marquis Theatre

Wednesday April 9th
Alesana, The Marquis Theatre, Denver, CO

this is slightly embarassing

but why not. we found it today whilst looking through several thousand photographs for the coffee table book. i'm okay with the fact that i look like an idiot.

Chevelle Photos

Dear you,

Too much time has passed since I last wrote. However today I just want to share a photo composition from a show I photographed last night here in Denver. Been ages since I'd been to a rock concert and as my friend Rikki is on the road with Finger 11 and Chevelle she hooked it up with the photo pass. There is one subtle difference in the pictures below. I'd love to know which one you like better. Until then be well. I promise I'll write soon.

Love Rod

I'm Always In Love

photographs

if you're bored you can visit The Fray to see some new photographs. if you keep reloading the page new images will appear.

i took some photos of my friends recently and need to share them with you.

caught grazing 1


caught grazing 2


"this might be the game of my life"

Mike Rowe Was Once An Opera Singer Too

Seals Around Sausalito: Spring in San Francisco

San Francisco smelled today the way I always remember it.

I've taken to eating breakfast at Fred's Place, this diner that resembles the country store from O Brother Where Art Thou in the scene where George Clooney's character finds his wife and his daughters trying to convince him that she's marrying someone who is "bonafide". My first morning there the old men in the corner were all reading the newspaper whilst carrying on a conversation about public radio, their noses still buried in their respective journals. If the counter is full you share the four large oak tables with the other customers. On Friday morning Dave, Jeff, and I sat with a set of odd looking twin brothers and their wives. We didn't say anything to each other but we were talking about roughly the same thing (what it would be like to be living in Brooklyn). Odd right? The coffee cups are made of thick white ceramic. I've only ever seen them at the Miss Albany Diner in Albany, NY. I've taken a few photographs with my new medium format Bronica but they won't be ready for a bit. Need to take them to the lab and get some contact sheets made. This is a poor man's develop. I love hash browns with breakfast because I can smother them in hot sauce. Breakfast food is a vehicle for hot sauce. I don't put hot sauce in my coffee though. Just cream.

The sun has paid us visit every day this past week but the nights are still crisp. There are seals in the harbor which is no more than one hundred yards from the studio. The salt air does wonders for your mental state. We've all been drinking Kombucha. Smells like the bottom of a bar trash can, doesn't taste much better, but does great things for your well being.

We're living in a giant house in the San Rafael hills.



There are three huge sliding glass doors in my room that open to the north, onto the deck and every morning I watch the valley that has filled with fog overnight burn off as the sun slips back into our lives. I won't be depressed when the rain comes, because this is San Francisco, and it will come. It'll be a nice change of pace. I've been feeling under the weather for the past two days. Could this be the old-man-in-the-rocking-chair-on-the-porch me talking?

This morning we all cooked breakfast. I made croque madames for Isaac and myself. Lavery and I picked up Jeff and we drove to the upper Haight where we had coffee at my favorite communist coffee shop. Then I spent $219 at Amoeba Music. My purchases include The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses on vinyl. I've been trying to find this record for six months. Amoeba had four copies.

We all showed up back at the house tonight heavily laden with our purchases, books from SFMOMA, movies, records, new leather boots, and hard to find organic soaps. Our home away from home feels rich. I'm happy.

************************************************

Back around Thanksgiving I was hired to direct a short documentary about new Columbia Records artist Newton Faulkner. So I flew over to England where he was on tour and spent 4 days on the road for the piece. Guess the powers that be liked the video so much that they asked me to create a viral video for his first American single, Dream Catch Me. Newton told me while on the road with him that the song is about "waking up one day and realizing how much the person next to you (married to) has become a part of you". My concept was to create a neo-american gothic image of the harsh upper American midwest during the dead of winter combined with the images of a couple that had been married for 54 years. Everlasting love and disappearing America.

We also threw in a few special effects. Kelly helped me create this scene in our studio in Denver. The "folks" in the video are also his grandparents.







Here's what I came up with...

When You Get Stranded In A Snow Storm In Wyoming This Is What You Think About

untitled

Me (Rod) Needs Your Help Looking for a Date

This is crazy. We should all know that from the start but the other day as I was flying back home from shooting this reality TV episode in Southern California I thought to myself “Why not?” The idea is simple. I have 218 friends on myspace, 51 of these include 45 bands/artists/musicians, 1 TV channel, 1 radio program, 3 film festival and industry associations and 1 comedy troupe. In order for this to work I need you, my 167 friends, to repost this entire bulletin. Yes, this is crazy because it functions like a pyramid scheme but without the sketchy family friend or uncle trying to get you to sell light bulbs door to door. Once you post it I need your friends to read it and then for them to post it again. And so on and so on. Of course I don’t know your friends or your friends friends but I’m asking for your help in finding me a girlfriend, or at least a date, by Valentine’s Day. I’m going to put all my information below and all people will need to do is send me an e-mail we'll see what happens.

About Me:

My name is Rod Blackhurst. I’m a 27 year old filmmaker living in Denver, CO although this has been the third state I’ve lived in this year, the others including Albany, NY and Los Angeles, CA. I’ve spent the better part of the last two years touring with the band The Fray as their photographer, filmmaker, and even the “t-shirt guy. I’ve made ski films, documentaries, low budget projects for friends, and been paid to shoot two weddings. My true love is narrative film and could watch anything by JP Jeunet, Joel & Ethan Coen, Terrance Malick, PT Anderson, and Wes Anderson.

I’m a secular realist and a humanist idealist all at the same time. I like brushing my teeth twice a day and staying hydrated. I have a degree in French Literature from Colgate University and almost made a career in architectural theater design after graduating. I’ve lived in Dijon, France, Lake Tahoe, CA and Burlington, VT. I’ve worked at MTV and spent two years waiting tables at a snobby overpriced restaurant. As a teenager I loved Third Eye Blind and still keep it in my list of acceptable bands. My current musical favorites include The National, Josh Ritter, and Broken Social Scene. I started collection vinyl two years ago and only purchase hard to find records that should be listened to on vinyl (ie originally recorded in the 60’s, 70’s, and early 80’s). I don’t buy digital music, I like the case art. I’m a casual dresser who likes to cook when possible although I can never afford my dream grocery store, Whole Foods.

I buy lots of books, journals and magazines, but never have time to read them all. Saturday evenings are given over to episodes of Prairie Home Companion and Sunday afternoons to This American Life (or Podcasts). My favorite magazine is the New Yorker but I’m about two months behind on issues right now. I’m concerned about the environment but also concerned that I’m not doing much to help. I love playing tennis but enjoy watching football.

I like small towns, the rust belt, abandoned structures and would like to spend a summer driving a beat up car through Eastern Europe working on old farms and staying in run down cottages.

In the future...

I’d like to have a large family. My family is small and I would love to find someone whose family I can share with them as my own extended family.

I’d like to live and work wherever we want to live, not necessarily where we have to work.

I’d like to build my own house or at least restore some old gas station or piece of a barn into a creative and original living and working space.

I’d like to live in and around a community of like-minded creative individuals who support and feed off each other.

I don’t need to be wealthy, only make enough money to support my family and to find creative fulfillment in my work.

Who I’m Looking For:

Women who don't drink a lot and never ever want to go to Las Vegas on a vacation, only if we’re old and with nothing else to do.

Intelligent, self-motivated, kind hearted and nurturing women.

No social climbers or “scenesters” who are trying to be hip.

Attractive, elegant women with an understated beauty and the girl next door.

That’s it for now. MySpace is HERE. I was going to post some photos here but I’m hoping maybe you’ll just visit my page and then click on the photos if you’re interested. Send me a message or write me an e-mail to rodblackhurst@hotmail.com It doesn’t matter if you live in Denver or not. I know I know, this whole idea is rather far fetched but I need your help (my initial 167 and your friends beyond…). I’ll respond to you all. Then we’ll set a date for Valentine’s Day and see where that takes us….

Rod

This is the last thing I'll say

As I tried to decide between Ry Cooder and Ryan Adams on the record player I found myself thinking of the men who shovel the snow at the Washington & Emerson St light rail station. Through blistering cold and white out four men keep the sidewalks and station entrance clear and clean. Nary a wayward snowflake can land without one of the four attacking it with a vigor that would make the criminals from Home Alone scared. They lurk in the bus stop over the interstate, eyes peeled for rogue flakes. While the rest of the city struggles to keep up with the seemingly never ending snowfall these four men shovel in the dark and through the day to keep the façade of the transit system ready to receive the passengers that she never will. Nobody rides the light rail, I’m sure that it is some bureaucratic wear-it-on-your-sleeve public works program that some self proclaimed liberal Subaru driving, Ben Harper CD listening politician earmarked in some state budget somewhere to make himself feel better about the plight of the atmosphere. As if he even knew where to begin. But this idea looked good on paper. At least it keeps four anonymous snow shovelers employed.

The delicate sounds of Love is Hell Part 2 creep out of my bedroom from Washington Park I’m wondering if I really want to be writing this all down. I’m superstitious. I do things because once those things led to good things. This is my way. I also don’t like to reflect out loud that often on what good has come my way in fear that perhaps it will only lead then to bad. But I do want to say a few things before I officially sign off for 2007.

I left some friends behind this year. I was rude and disrespectful to a few folks along the way and I’m sorry for that. Often it was because I wasn’t mature enough to know when to stop leading you astray. More often than often it was because I was going to let you down at some point and that would have been harder if I’d kept leading you astray.

I calculated my existence in frequent flyer miles. As an official Silver Medallion Delta Sky Miles customer and a Premiere United member I must say that I do enjoy the perks of being a regular. Flying first class is great and all when it happens but perhaps the best part about being a frequent flyer is that I can cut the security line and board the plane first always ensuring that my rather large camera bag carry on can fit in the overhead. And I never sit in the wrong seat.

I made some great new friends. Some is the wrong word. I made a lot of great new friends. What a blessing to cross paths with so many wonderful people and to reconnect with long lost friends. If I hadn’t written an e-mail to a man named Mark Cunningham as a 17 year old college freshman I’d never be where I am right now. Truly unbelievable and amazing as I think that I owe a fair bit to this connection that I made ten years ago.

Nobody will ever write a better blog than my friend Alex. He’s a wordsmith, a songsmith and a gem of a friend. You should read his blog. He’s got a lot to say and the right to say it all.

I must now do some laundry and pack my bags for a shoot over the next five days in Big Bear Lake, CA. You probably haven’t heard of the Block or the G4 network but from my understanding its about a group of Scotts and Todds who didn’t quite make the cut at the Real World living and working in a hotel called The Block who spend their days snowboarding and their nights partying. Maybe they don’t actually work. I’ve heard that all they do is party and chase women. Should be funny at least. I’ll have a camera in my hand. And boy oh boy the things people do for the camera. I do find it rather reassuring that I’ll close out the last seconds of my year shooting an awful reality TV show for an equally as awful cable TV channel. There’s no glory there, there’s no guts, just excess that I’m witnessing through the lens of my camera. Going out the way I came in. And that’s a good feeling. No pressure right up to the end, just doing my job, paying the rent and looking forward to the coming year.

a photo of a friend

He's going to hate me, but I just found this photograph of him. And I love it. You should too.

this is how i feel this morning

Falling out of touch with all my
friends are somewhere getting wasted,
hope they're staying glued together,
I have arms for them.

Take another sip of them,
it floats around and takes me over
like a little drop of ink in a glass of water.

Politics, Religion & The Presidency

To those non-secular friends of mine.

Mitt Romney yesterday said that "No candidate should become the spokesman for his faith. For if he becomes president he will need the prayers of the people of all faiths."

In the same speech he then went on to add that he "do not define my candidacy by my religion" and eventually went on to add that he "will serve no one religion, no one group, no one cause, and no one interest. A president must serve only the common cause of the people of the United States."

How then, would Mitt Romney, or any other non-secular candidate, including our current President, in their next breath explain their views on Abortion and Gay Marriage, issues which for them are clearly explained through their religious views?

Is this not serving not just one religion, but most religions?

What about the majority of Americans who are secular like myself?

Why does no reporter or person ever ask this simple question of non-secular politicians? You believe in a separation of church and state yet your religious views cloud your judgment on such major issues as abortion and gay marriage; how is this separation of church and state and how do you then seek to include the majority of your constituents who would then be cast aside by your non-secular views?

a small piece of fiction

The gray was nailed tight to the sky above Old Sodom. Winter was fast coming and the late afternoon air was sharp, getting sharper. Musing under his breath that the Quality Inn was not quality, and therefore either pretentious or ironic, Dan wondered if he should write that bit down, save it for later, in some short story or something that he'd never actually get around to writing. He hadn't written anything in years and it was going to be years till he did. It just sounded good, on paper.

Letting the bath fill, Dan beat the love out of his lap in the next room. Returning to the bathroom he drained the tub and sat down to let it fill up again. That was the best part about taking a bath, listening to the water gurgle out the faucet. Soaking was disgusting, just laying there in your own dead skin cells and soaped suds. But listening to the water, that was about as good as it got, at least in the Quality Inn. The ash tray tub side hadn't been cleaned since the tub's last occupant had laid there in their own filth but Dan wasn't about to complain. He was lucky to have the room for the night.

He had two things to accomplish that night. First, he was going to go see Ree down at Sportsman's, ask her where the fuck she'd be for the past two months. Then he was going to work on getting his handicap down up at the Bowl-a-Lane. Figured with a whiskey or two in him he'd have a good game there as well.

Funny how things work out like this he thought.

Ritter, Springsteen

In the middle of October I joined my friends Ben, Kelly, and Aaron for a trip up north to see Josh Ritter play at the Fox, a tiny old concert hall, with acoustics that are second to none, packed to the gills with sweaty music fans. The show was unlike any musical experience that I'd ever been a part of. With a grin a mile wide carved into his face, and wiry red hair flying everywhere, Josh was in control of the room, along with my right foot which tapped out time incessantly.

I first heard of Josh in the fall of 2004, through my friend Bill Heath, a filmmaker from British Columbia, who had scored a beautiful ski film called Sinners with Josh's music. It was love at first listen. And then I realized that whilst a senior in college I had reviewed Josh's debut album, The Golden Age of Radio, for the Colgate Maroon News, showering it with equally golden praise. Josh's cousin Zach was living in my dorm and had encouraged me to write about his relative and so I sought out the album and threw it in my CD player.

There is a song on Josh's newest album, The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter, called The Temptation of Adam. You should listen to this song. It'll change your mind. I'm posting the lyrics below.

The Temptation of Adam

If this was the Cold War we could keep each other warm I said on the first occasion that I met Marie We were crawling through the hatch that was the missile silo door And I don¹t think that she really thought that much of me

I never had to learn to love her like I learned to love the Bomb She just came along and started to ignore me But as we waited for the Big One I started singing her my songs And I think she started feeling something for me

We passed the time with crosswords that she thought to bring inside What five letters spell "apocalypse" she asked me I won her over saying "W.W.I.I.I." She smiled and we both knew that she'd misjudged me

Oh Marie it was so easy to fall in love with you It felt almost like a home of sorts or something And you would keep the warhead missile silo good as new And I'd watch you with my thumb above the button

Then one night you found me in my army issue cot And you told me of your flash of inspiration You said fusion was the broken heart that's lonely's only thought And all night long you drove me wild with your equations

Oh Marie do you remember all the time we used to take We'd make our love and then ransack the rations I think about you leaving now and the avalanche cascades And my eyes get washed away in chain reactions

Oh Marie if you would stay then we could stick pins in the map Of all the places where you thought that love would be found But I would only need one pin to show where my heart's at In a top secret location three hundred feet under the ground

We could hold each other close and stay up every night Looking up into the dark like it's the night sky And pretend this giant missile is an old oak tree instead And carve our name in hearts into the warhead

Oh Marie there's something tells me things just won't work out above That our love would live a half-life on the surface So at night while you are sleeping I hold you closer just because As our time grows short I get a little nervous

I think about the Big One, W.W.I.I.I. Would we ever really care the world had ended You could hold me here forever like you're holding me tonight I look at that great big red button and I'm tempted.

Josh also played an acoustic version of Springsteen's The River. Separated in time by twenty five years from The Temptation of Adam, The River might be one of the blue collar love songs ever. And I'll stand behind those words.

Again the lyrics.

The River

I come from down in the valley
where mister when you're young
They bring you up to do like your daddy done
Me and Mary we met in high school
when she was just seventeen
We'd ride out of that valley down to where the fields were green

We'd go down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we'd ride

Then I got Mary pregnant
and man that was all she wrote
And for my nineteenth birthday I got a union card and a wedding coat
We went down to the courthouse
and the judge put it all to rest
No wedding day smiles no walk down the aisle
No flowers no wedding dress

That night we went down to the river
And into the river we'd dive
Oh down to the river we did ride

I got a job working construction for the Johnstown Company
But lately there ain't been much work on account of the economy
Now all them things that seemed so important
Well mister they vanished right into the air
Now I just act like I don't remember
Mary acts like she don't care

But I remember us riding in my brother's car
Her body tan and wet down at the reservoir
At night on them banks I'd lie awake
And pull her close just to feel each breath she'd take
Now those memories come back to haunt me
they haunt me like a curse
Is a dream a lie if it don't come true
Or is it something worse
that sends me down to the river
though I know the river is dry
That sends me down to the river tonight
Down to the river
my baby and I
Oh down to the river we ride

You should put these two songs on your iPod or on a cassette tape, or on a blank CD, put them in your car and go drive some back country road.

home for 4 days

After 18 hours in airplanes and airports on Wednesday I made it back to Denver close to midnight, which technically my body thought was closer to 8 AM European time. I'm still exhausted. Thursday morning Gregg called me and asked if I wanted to go back to England later that day. I replied that all my laundry was still dirty but yes I'd go. So, I'm going back Friday for five days with another Sony artist. Flying to NY tomorrow for the Thanksgiving holiday and then leaving from NY for Manchester. After these flights I'll be Gold Medallion on Delta. This means that I may make first class for free on every flight I purchase on Delta next year. I'm savvy. The only odd thing about this trip is that not only will I be visiting Norwich for the second time in my life, when I especially imagined that city to be the last city I'd visit twice, but I'll be spending my birthday there. As I've never been one to attach too much value to my birthday this technically shouldn't phase me. In fact I do find it more humorous than anything. Just add this to the list of stories that someday I can tell my children.

In preparation for my 5 AM wakeup tomorrow I bought myself a spa treatment today. Self indulgent but totally great and relaxing. Maybe I'll just consider it my birthday present to myself. Oh and the new video iPod too. Probably the most money I've spent on myself in a while. Sometimes I think that I spend all my money on myself but them remember that while that could be true, I'm really just purchasing film and technical equipment which allows me to better do my job. So goes the old adage, you have to spend money to make money.

I'm managing to squeak in a little football tonight after missing the past four weeks. I won't last much longer. Still need to pack.

a photograph

My friend Dawn sent me this two days ago.

today i'm in Birmingham

Birmingham pales in comparison to Newcastle. By the end of this tour I will have been to every major city in the United Kingdom this year. Leeds, Bristol, Manchester, Liverpool, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Plymouth, Norwich, Birmingham, Newcastle, Bournemouth, you name it and we've been there. Dave and I went for a walk yesterday to the river Tyne and were very impressed not only with the sunny fall weather, which did hold over until today, but with the architecture and historical value of Newcastle.

Today we are off. I managed to get the best of both worlds today, group walk to breakfast, then dinner plans for 6:30 which gave me time to get on with my own bit for the afternoon. I picked up the new The Thrills disc and some stationary and pens from a Japanese paper store. Its hard to not get wrapped up in the herd mentality on these days off. Usually we're all hungover and then stumble around all day together not really getting anything accomplished, and then all of a sudden the day is over and we have to get up and go back to work. You always end up spending all of your time making plans to make plans, a very frustrating feeling. We're meeting at 6:30 for curry which is my jam. Why does every English city claim to be the curry capital of the world? Would India not be the curry capital of the world? It seems that because England briefly colonized India for a few hundred years they now claim ownership of curry. All I can conclude from this is a certain amount of typical British snobbery built into titling and alleged ownership. Its nearly 5 and this leaves me enough time to read for a little bit, maybe take a bath, and then wander down to the lobby of our posh hotel.

Our last day off was tough. After closing down an old pub in Dublin we stumbled into bed around 3 in the morning only to be awoken at 7 for the ferry crossing to Scotland. We all deliriously tried to enjoy the trip across the Irish Sea. I took some photographs and some video but when we hit land we all threw ourselves into our bunks for another two hours of shut eye before reaching Glasgow. Dave and I claim that this schedule and lack of sleep led us to be hallucinating when we finally checked into our hotel. Most of that day off was lost to some wandering around with Dan and Joel before meeting up (well technically running into) Ben Hales on the streets of Glasgow. What an unusual but great city full of drunks and blue collar history. Just the type of place that I can agree with.

When I pictured England in the fall I thought of John Steinbeck describing the sky as "wet gray aluminum" and I liked that too. I'll take the sun these past few days. But I'll take the autumn as well.