tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12472730119841786992024-03-21T07:40:48.660-07:00The Love SeatSit down. Relax. Make yourself at homeLoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-84968252139170286282013-08-11T20:05:00.004-07:002013-08-11T20:05:43.410-07:00On Saturday, August 10, I had the privilege of photographing the baptism of young Lucas Badeendran. Here is a slide show of the photos I took for the event.<br />
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LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-18151640165569222312013-07-17T14:25:00.001-07:002013-07-20T10:29:42.747-07:00Selected news clippings (my writings from college)So, this past week, I have been working to put together a portfolio of my work. I wanted to come up with a way of presenting them that highlights honestly presents work I have produced in the last two years, while also being easily transportable and accessible.<br />
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Although it feels a bit cheesy, I went with a slideshow format. I am tossing around the idea of making it an audio slideshow, but then again that could turn out to be annoying/unnecessary.<br />
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One feature I added in after showing this to a couple of friends was the provision of links to full-sized images of the articles in the slideshow. <br />
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Hopefully, it will help me land a job!<br />
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<br />LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-63562803758106850872013-05-09T21:46:00.001-07:002013-05-09T21:49:58.806-07:00In the garden, Roberta's Tiki Disco (Cinco de Mayo edition, 2013).<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGQGLOcIlKA7AMztM_F8Hpi8pZVfh5VCnv6Ax7akoR5Y1YfmDgF9BG4Sn4W6RqxsnGQ9n_H9IcV44vHwA6yWPPGnpVAfsMdQTgOdyoEsFertlBHrP96y7qFg5isFL7TvKPMc77FJ56L2Nt/s1600/Garden+-+flower.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGQGLOcIlKA7AMztM_F8Hpi8pZVfh5VCnv6Ax7akoR5Y1YfmDgF9BG4Sn4W6RqxsnGQ9n_H9IcV44vHwA6yWPPGnpVAfsMdQTgOdyoEsFertlBHrP96y7qFg5isFL7TvKPMc77FJ56L2Nt/s320/Garden+-+flower.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I wanted to share this gorgeous, lit-by-a-fire pit flower. It popped out at me the other night while catching up with old friends between battles with the smoke monster.<br />
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Hope you are all well, and that the flower speaks to you with a familiar voice.</div>
LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-6073152311300587572013-05-05T09:22:00.001-07:002013-05-05T10:44:53.379-07:00It's saturday night :)Last night, I spent the evening working as a private event photographer for a great dude named Greg, who also introduced me to Manuella Yushuvayeva, a 16-year-old who is studying photography. The two of us got some great shots of the kids and their parents enjoying the day together.<br />
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As a result, I had a reason to debut a new feature that will be appearing more and more frequently on my blog: The photo slide show. Since I take a lot of photographs of a lot of interesting things, I want to be able to load a ton of photos to share with you guys. I think this new SoundSlides platform will work to keep the upload time to a minimum and the ease of navigation to a maximum.<br />
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This slideshow is quite lengthy due to the nature of the assignment, but in the future, I will release photos in short bursts. I will also be back-blogging in the near future using this feature so I can post my photos from other recent adventures.<br />
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If you are interested in a copy of any photographs, or if you would like me to take some photos for you, please feel free to reach out to me and I will be in touch. loveseatchase@gmail.com<br />
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<br />LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-21958800734143700632013-04-29T19:05:00.004-07:002013-04-30T10:53:50.929-07:00time for change<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
it's done. over. and the timing couldn't be any better because, frankly, <i>i'm</i> over <i>it</i>. </div>
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it's been great, don't get me wrong. being the voice of a student population, so to speak. and though i hate to admit it, i wasn't shit when i started compared to where i am at now, even though i thought i was. not like i'm really all that far along anyways. but that's kinda necessary. isn't it? fake it til you make it, right?</div>
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well that's what i have been doing for a long time now. starting to feel like i am going to be in fake it mode for the foreseeable future. not like it stops me. from doing it. loving it. living it. all day erryday.</div>
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really though, it's time to stop the fake out. time to bring it in. get serious. put all that living to work for me and make it pay. so i am gonna start something fresh here, like i halfheartedly began to do last fall, before i let the effort fall with the leaves and hibernate. </div>
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had to go fallow.</div>
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but i'm back. talking. writing. thinking for myself. thinking from my own perspective, unclouded by the responsibilities that go along with having to think for other people on a day-in-day-out, week-after-week basis. </div>
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i'm not sure how this is going to go. or what i will be writing. but i am going to be out there, in the real world, living, seeing things worth seeing that you might miss. and i'm going to talk about them. how they make me feel. what they make me think. and maybe more importantly, what they say about real life from my point of view.</div>
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well, i don't want to ramble too much. so instead of doing that, i will stop now, leaving you with a poem i wrote on the train yesterday while coming home from a pleasantly short day on campus.</div>
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it's called, "the nothing"</div>
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it doesnt even matter if people</div>
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hear you here</div>
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talking to yourself</div>
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cursing the wind</div>
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howling into the nothing</div>
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because no one listens</div>
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a casual glance</div>
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inquisitively wrinkled forehead</div>
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self-righteous smirk</div>
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is all you will garner</div>
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from a crowd of selves</div>
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sifting stoically</div>
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through the rubble</div>
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and ash</div>
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and steam</div>
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of each their own</div>
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great and horrible</div>
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chaotic nothings.</div>
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LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-24563677407619807702012-09-23T00:36:00.000-07:002013-04-29T11:53:39.355-07:00radio silencei've gotten so used to it already. this steady, non-stop flow of information. it's like a drug you don't need coming through on steady drip until you become dependent on it.<br />
<br />
then it just stops.<br />
<br />
weeks of explaining upside-down pyramids and information flow charts, of setting up and preparing writers for interviews, of reviewing the pieces that are brought before me and giving honest, no-holds-barred assessments of what i'm seeing.<br />
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hours of working on a simple write up of an event with a writer because it's his or her first time. they want to really do well on their piece and i want them to not only learn how to do well on the one that's in front of them, but every one that ever comes across their desk in the future.<br />
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moments of weakness, when i think to myself that i'm not qualified for this, and that i don't know enough about the context of the situations i'm investigating, and that there's too much going on to ever capture it all with any sense of assurance that justice was done to every bit of information being presented.<br />
<br />
mere seconds between being the one who got the story first and the one who did the follow-up piece.<br />
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these are the ways i've been learning to divide my time lately. and even considering the crazed and cutthroat nature of this business, i find the routine of it comforting.<br />
<br />
when you're single in this city and aren't of the kind that locks yourself into a click, there's no one really checking up on you to make sure you're still around or that you haven't gotten yourself into something you can't get out of. the constant contact with a team of writers and editors that comes with being the news editor is the closest thing i really have to a safety net these days.<br />
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so when i find myself on a quiet weekend, with only a trickle of texting and emailing going on, only a 30 minute phone call here and a single planned check in tomorrow...when i'm sitting in the relative silence of 3 a.m. bushwick on the first day of fall...it leaves me anxious and itching for a spark, like an army at defcon five in the middle of a thousand year peace. all revved up with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no money to waste.<br />
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it's really quiet out there tonight. too quiet to sleep.LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-40425858729719891372012-09-18T22:38:00.000-07:002012-09-18T22:38:48.962-07:00fucking freshmenalright. so it's been a long ass time since i spoke to you.<br />
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did you forget about me?<br />
<br />
yes?<br />
<br />
good.<br />
<br />
because I want to start fresh here. with a new little thing to say. i'm getting into a swing of things, and it hasn't knocked me off my rhythm yet. just slowed the pace a little. maybe taught me that fast and loud isn't the only thing that's important.<br />
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it ain't got a thing if it ain't got that sing. swing. everybody start to swing. lah-dee-dahhh. so on.<br />
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i'm doing new things now in a new place called new york.<br />
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i'm pretty sure last time we talked i was in seattle. then again. maybe not. i've lived through a bunch of shitty shit since then, and that's the way it is. sorry if i don't remember our last conversation.<br />
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it's just that, well, i'm pretty selfish right now. and self-centered. and self-interested. i don't feel like i have much choice in the matter, though. because really, i let myself be interested in the good of another and other anothers for so long, and right when everything was going right again, i lost it all because i believed in another and that other was something other than what i had always seen it as.<br />
<br />
these things happen, they tell me.<br />
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but their advice is so vague i don't bother listening. i sense no revelation in their speeches. rhetoric, rhetoric, rhetoric.<br />
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that's the soft version of where i've been and why it took me so long to get back to here. this page. on a new set of keys that plays nicely but sometimes misses a beat or two leaving one wondering what that missing letter might've been intended to be.<br />
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yes, that last sentence could've been worded much clearer than it was. i write what i want here. you don't tell me what.<br />
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lol.<br />
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anyways, i'm back and i'll be posting new music and ramblings as i see fit. i'm just glad all these new freshmen came in because wouldn't you know it, these young fuckers inspired me to get off all sides of my ass and work on everything all at once again the way i do when i'm happy.LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-5320578727654166862011-03-08T13:47:00.000-08:002011-03-08T13:47:36.025-08:00need guitar, will perform sexual favorsMan. Even though I feel pretty damn good about the way "success anxiety" turned out with nothing but the use of my netbook, I really wish I had an acoustic/electric guitar to mess around with on that track. Granted, if I had a guitar at my disposal when I recorded that song, I don't know that the rest of it would've turned out so good. I'm actually pretty impatient with recording because I feel this crazy urge to finish the project to the point that it sometimes puts me in a position where I will keep an average take rather than spending a few more days getting the perfect take. <br />
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But seriously, I can't wait til my damn financial aid comes through so I can get myself a bangin' axe to flail on. About once a week I go to the local music store and mess around on their guitars, but they're overpriced, so I won't be buying one from them. If anybody in New York wants to donate a great guitar to a lost cause, hit me up.LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-81329854500439385402011-02-22T11:29:00.000-08:002011-02-22T11:29:48.547-08:00Look, mom...no instruments!For a long time I have been convinced that the only way I can get my job done right is if I can make it happen acoustically without all the bells and whistles. Purely analog. So a couple of years ago, I made an album that I called "recycled tapes" as a statement that it doesn't take a hundred-thousand dollar studio to make music. I used a Tascam Portastudio and a Shure SM-58 microphone along with my trusty 1955 Harmony Acoustic guitar and my Johnson Acoustic/Electric Bass to make that one happen, and it was good for what it was. I sometimes go back and listen through that album and am surprised by how much I like what I'm hearing, but then on a second listen I start to get critical of it and begin to hate it so I put it away for a few months. <br />
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Cut to about a year later, I was putting together a demo album so that some friends and I would have something to get gigs with, and I branched out to using an Alesis drum machine setup, my Dean Electric Bass, an electric guitar of unknown origins, my Harmony, and my Fender mini-amp. That four song demo did end up getting us a couple shows, and it has it's moments. It was definitely a step up from "recycled tapes" in that it was recorded straight to computer and with a condenser microphone, so that overall production value was better. It still sounded pretty cheesy, though. <br />
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A couple months ago, then, I made an album of cover songs with my friend Otis, under the moniker "Stilted Wenis and the Crooked Tooth" and other than that ridiculousness of the drum machine sounds on a couple of the songs, it turned out pretty good. Sure, there are some things that we could've taken the time on vocally to perfect if we had that time, but we kind of had to throw it together at the last minute, and even so, I am pretty happy with what came out of it. It was a major step in the right direction.<br />
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So now, here I am in Brooklyn, and I had to sell the only guitar I took with me (my Epiphone Acoustic) just to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads (a minor sacrifice compared to some that M made to keep things going)), and I still have the burning desire to keep this music boat sailing. Luckily, a mutual friend of Otis and I, OB, had recorded a song on acoustic guitar that I was able to record some vocals over to keep me going, but once that was done I needed more.<br />
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I decided at this point to change my philosophy. Why should everything have to be recorded manually in order for it to be real? It's 2011, after all. With the capabilities that we have at our disposal, it doesn't make sense to reject them wholesale without giving them a try. So after years of avoiding it, here I am typing this with my instrument. My Acer netbook has become my orchestra, and with it I command a limitless potential arsenal of musical delight.<br />
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It's been years, eleven, to be precise, since I used a computer to create an entire song, with no acoustic instrumentation. So I took a couple hours and put together a little trancey thing, but instead of just plugging bars into a piano roll, I decided to actually "play" them in. Using my computer keyboard and a drum loop, I was able to create a song. That's when it hit me.<br />
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The thing I've always hated about producing songs electronically is that there isn't any humanity in it. Of course the sounds are all there, but there is no imperfection to tie it all together. Isn't the breaking point of a perfect voice that makes you gasp? Isn't it the moment when the angels fall that evokes the strongest emotions in you? Of course it is. We need that glimpse of humanity in our art in order to identify with it, otherwise it's just colors and sounds without substance.<br />
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So it's with that in mind that I have decided to move forward in a new direction musically, and I will now begin to put forth musical arrangements and such in an entirely new manner. Of course, when I do get my instruments back, I will be using them, but not exactly in the same way. What's the point?<br />
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I can use them in a way that's even better. And I can't wait to show you what I mean...LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-37489315089813025612011-02-02T11:59:00.000-08:002011-02-14T08:30:42.729-08:00New York City?Hey, it's been a while. Yeah I know, who the fuck am I and where the hell have I been. Well, that's a long story and I don't care to tell it all right here. Suffice it to say that I have left Seattle and am living in the Bushwick neighborhood of Brooklyn, NY. I'm now going to school on Long Island at Nassau Community College (more to follow on both those points) and I have no instruments at my disposal at this time. Without the ability to play music, I have resorted to other means of creativity, such as poetry. I thought it would be nice to post some of that here, as I think it kind of sums up the details of where I am right now.<br />
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<b>I stand before you today...</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
soaked to the bone in Pagan blood<br />
marinated in the juices of the goat god -<br />
musky like the dew of a thousand mornings<br />
locked in an unplugged freezer<br />
and buried in a swamp<br />
by the tobacco stained hands<br />
of a gypsy.<br />
<br />
<b>Relishing every detail:</b><br />
<br />
<ul><li>the salty tinge of the ocean air</li>
<li>the thwap-thwapping of water<br />
against the sides of the boat</li>
<li>the adolescent whine of an<br />
underpowered outboard motor</li>
<li>the nervous sweat of a victim <br />
who is a virgin to pain<br />
</li>
</ul><b>collapse</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
got a dollar eighty in my pocket for coffee<br />
two bananas on top of the fridge<br />
we'll be alright for breakfast<br />
but that doesn't say much about the afternoon<br />
should pro'lly start thinkin' bout the afternoon<br />
i'm out of ideas, how bout you?<br />
<br />
we're runnin' outta dollars<br />
runnin' outta dollars<br />
selling everything we own<br />
but we still have desires<br />
still have desires<br />
even if we're broken and<br />
waitin' around for government money<br />
that is long overdue<br />
<br />
i ain't here lookin' for handouts<br />
i only want what's mine<br />
so come on with it and<br />
give me my fuckin' money<br />
<br />
...i didn't mean to curse just then<br />
it's just that I've been waiting<br />
around for so long<br />
that i've lost track of time<br />
my hair grows longer<br />
my time grows shorter<br />
but i still don't have a plan<br />
the skin of my teeth is<br />
getting thinner<br />
cavities are setting in<br />
<br />
i ain't lookin' for handouts<br />
i only want what's mine<br />
so come on with it then<br />
and give me mine<br />
<br />
ran outta money<br />
we ran outta money<br />
sold everything we own<br />
still have each other<br />
but we still have each other<br />
baby baby i'm so cold<br />
maybe we oughtta head south for the winter<br />
and wait it out with the crows<br />
<br />
i ain't askin' for handouts<br />
i only want what's mine<br />
so come on with it<br />
and give me mine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
-catch up with you soon.LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-60547346298851041082010-09-21T10:01:00.000-07:002010-09-21T14:24:19.226-07:00underneath my skinafter posting and listening to comfortable skin for a few days i've got a few thoughts. first off, i've obviously waited way too long to post a new blog with a song on it because it seems that my small following has wandered off to other realms. i hope to rope one or two of you back in soon because i am prepping for a whole new round of recording as i drift into fall quarter.<br />
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about the song though...i've been getting a lot of advice that leads me to believe that i should probably stop screaming so much in my music. what can i say? i get into it once i get going. there's this well of emotion inside of me that only gets tapped when i'm in the zone, and once it's open it turns into a geyser. it's a snakeskin firehose and sometimes i lose control of its aim. but as i become more experienced and more aware of my output, i am becoming more apt at seeing the bigger picture and less prone to losing myself in the music.<br />
<br />
it's kind of funny but i've never really considered the fact that i may be going astray by losing myself in the music when the whole point of creating art and music is to find oneself. and that's specifically what the theme of 'comfortable skin' is. self awareness and self respect. when ever i write a song i think of it as a sort of parable, though with 'skin' i've definitely taken a turn away from the esoteric tendencies that i lean towards in most of my tunes to date.<br />
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part of the wonder of this recording for me personally is that i didn't find it necessary to use any effects on the vocals that i recorded. other than a slight envelope filter applied to two or three specific words that i blew too hard on, what you hear is exactly what i recorded while standing in the corner of my bedroom where the acoustics of the room weren't too boomy or too tinny either. i'm proud to say that i truly am content with the quality of this recording even though i still know that i have room to improve.LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-15751997145722851542010-09-17T17:26:00.000-07:002013-04-29T19:00:15.719-07:00Comfortable SkinHey hey hey,<br />
<br />
So the good news is I have finally finished recording the vocals for Comfortable Skin, a song that I finished the instrumental tracks for at least two months ago. I've moved my studio into our bedroom here, and after a computer crash I'm lucky to have backed up the instrumental tracks on my phone. I think that losing my hard drive made me realize that I need to push through to the end and get my music out there sooner rather than later, though it's been hard to decide the mood of my vox on this song. I've been going through a lot of changes in life and in my views on what is important as a man and a musician, and it's probably better that I waited to record this until now, but the lesson remains the same. Carpe Diem.<br />
<br />LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-26720907678787827722010-07-25T12:12:00.000-07:002010-07-25T12:12:44.719-07:00Viscious Cyclone [a.free.write]Leaving behind the bigotry of our beloved fathers without losing that essential humanity that they seeded into our humble and patient mothers who had hatreds of their own pumping through blood vessels and into breast milk that sustained our innocence that we so readily exchanged for the moldy rye and bitter bourbons that soften the blows we will receive in our adolescence as we watch our elders die the slow and cruel death of age and its ravages on their solidarity of mind and body and of course we prefer to assume soul. And that soul we like to imagine as an angel more because we fear our own destiny than from any sense of pity or sorrow at the loss of loved ones though that's not without merit in our mourning that is quickly back-burnered by our own successes and advances as we march heartily toward the our own five o'clock shadows, shaking the sweaty nervous palms of our offspring as they watch our parents die in horror and they weep while we stoically avoid the truth that is held in the passing over of suns and moons that we worship and idolize and build monuments to in hopes that they'll choose another as their sacrifice leaving us one more day to live.LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-71441789568430660002010-07-11T18:23:00.000-07:002010-07-11T18:24:02.834-07:00naked kinkyWhat better on a Sunny Sunday afternoon than a song about self masochism?<br />
<br />
Still have to record it but here's the gist. Think iggy pop.<br />
<br />
<b>naked kinky</b><br />
<br />
smell of lemons on the fish<br />
peelin' off a hangnail into cold soup<br />
alphabet spelling out doom for me<br />
smell of carrots on my plate<br />
twisting off a toenail into the rug<br />
it's bleeding, it's bleeding<br />
it's bleeding all over me<br />
<br />
one man marching to the sound of one man marching<br />
in my head while I'm bleeding all over the rug<br />
<br />
taste of iron on my tongue<br />
gentle breeze rustling the leaves<br />
blows the curtain off the rod<br />
naked kinky and alone<br />
hanging from the ceiling by a thread<br />
it's bleeding, it's bleeding<br />
it's bleeding all over me<br />
<br />
caveaux noir and quickened breathe, groping for my soul<br />
in my window bleeding all over the rug<br />
<br />
naked kinky and alone, hanging by a thread<br />
in my window trying to get my feet on the rug<br />
in my head while I'm bleeding all over the rug<br />
pail and flailing attempting to cut you a rug<br />
<br />
one man marching to the sound of one man marching...LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-70309423024842504502010-07-10T11:57:00.000-07:002010-07-10T11:57:23.088-07:00Sometimes in the morningsometimes in the morning <br />
when I’m getting dressed <br />
I find the jeans I feel like wearing <br />
dirty and rumpled on the floor. <br />
<br />
sometimes I wear them anyways. <br />
sometimes I choose a different pair, <br />
but I feel awkward in them, <br />
like I’m wearing someone else’s face<br />
around my thighs.LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-12906346662973961662010-07-10T11:44:00.000-07:002010-07-10T11:44:58.087-07:00Done Been Singin'I've always wanted to write a song that tells a story encompassing the journey through the major arcana of the Tarot, and I've finally done it (I think I have, anyways). I haven't gotten this song recorded yet, and I'm still working on the structure of the accompaniment for it but lyrically it is sound at this point. If you feel like being interactive, try to find all of the different parts of the story that link to the traits of the major arcana. There are 26 in all, though most of them may be a little too subtle for you to find without knowing explicit details of my life and without you having been there for some readings I've been given. <br />
<br />
Also, I'm not a mystic, at least not in the traditional sense of the word. I don't believe that the Tarot is a method for deciphering the future. What I do believe is that the journey through the major arcana is a very good metaphor for the turbulence and chaos that we experience in our lives. The story told there has a reflection of the universal life experience held within it, and I respect that. That said, here it is:<br />
<br />
<br />
done been singin’<br />
<br />
[verse]<br />
like a fool I left my home<br />
I left my mother all alone<br />
cause I was tired of the same old scene<br />
I packed my duffel bag and hailed a cab<br />
said hey cabbie can you take my to the depot<br />
he replied sure son with a grunt<br />
that’ll be twelve bucks up front<br />
<br />
I snapped back I’m not your son<br />
but that’ll be just fine<br />
I’ll give you thirteen<br />
if you get me there double time<br />
bali bali adashi<br />
<br />
[bridge]<br />
and just like that<br />
I was on the road<br />
would you look at that<br />
readin’ on the road<br />
and I’m sing’n<br />
yes I’m sing’n…<br />
<br />
[chorus]<br />
when you go to die I won’t be there<br />
cause I’ve gone to live<br />
and where I’ve gone to live<br />
there’s no looking back<br />
so when you go to die<br />
I hope you can forgive me cause I<br />
I’ve only got so much time to live<br />
<br />
[verse]<br />
next thing I remember I’m on a Bergen pier<br />
and to my right a trumpet gives a shout<br />
so I take my cue and enter the gate<br />
it was February in Haakon shall<br />
and the stately dinner was great and all<br />
but I’d had my share of cognac with Kings<br />
surf slapping the seawall<br />
while I rolled up a loosey<br />
and tried to look dramatic to the passers by<br />
when on my shoulder landed an albatross<br />
he said hey there soldier I see ya lookin’ down<br />
but you won’t find the sky <br />
you’re lookin’ for on the ground<br />
and I learned that from a crow<br />
so you know it’s true<br />
and one more thing before I take to my wings<br />
you’ll never get anywhere <br />
worried about everything<br />
so why don’t you just relax<br />
<br />
[refrain]<br />
B C#<br />
oooo….<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
[verse]<br />
couple years later I’m taking a walk<br />
with nothing but a cliff bar in my pack<br />
along with the tattered memory of a notebook<br />
pen in my pocket is running dry<br />
then from the sky an inkblot in my eye<br />
drops across a paper trail<br />
<br />
[bridge]<br />
and suddenly I feel<br />
I’m only chasin’ my tail<br />
like a rabid dog<br />
howlin’ like a rabid dog<br />
at the moon<br />
like a rabid dog<br />
<br />
[chorus]<br />
where I’ve gone to live you won’t be there<br />
cause I’m on my own <br />
and where I’ve gone to roam<br />
there’s no looking back<br />
so when you go to die<br />
I hope you can forgive me cause I<br />
I’ve only got so much time to live<br />
<br />
[bridge]<br />
won’t you help me, Grady<br />
I need a change of oil<br />
cause I’m getting ready<br />
to sew some southern soil<br />
and we’ll be sing’n<br />
while we toil…<br />
<br />
[chorus/outtro]LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-56667368909046424402010-07-09T21:16:00.000-07:002010-07-10T13:35:38.777-07:00Langston Hughes, anyone?I recently completed a creative writing course at South Seattle Community College. As one of our assignments, we were to recite a poem from memory. In the packet of poems we were given I came across a Langston Hughes poem entitle "Genius Child" and something about the poem spoke to me in such a way that I felt compelled to put it to music. <br />
<br />
Here is the scratch track I laid down a couple days after I performed it in class:<br />
<br />
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<br />
Genius Child<br />
<br />
This is the song<br />
of the genius child<br />
sing it softly<br />
for the song is wild<br />
<br />
Sing it softly<br />
ever as you can<br />
lest the song get out of hand<br />
<br />
<i>No-body loves the genius child</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
Can you love an eagle<br />
tame or wild?<br />
<br />
Wild or tame<br />
can you love a monster<br />
of a frightening name?<br />
<br />
<i>No-body loves the genius child</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Kill Him!</i><br />
Lest his soul<br />
run wildLoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-47970555209641329202010-07-09T08:12:00.000-07:002010-07-09T16:15:30.982-07:00as an afterthought to the fourth of july<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 25px;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">God bless </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">, dudes. And you know why? Because when </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> was formed as a Nation, the world needed an </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">. Once the world had an </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">, it could never be the same. By 'the world' I mean humanity, of course. What did we have before </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">? A bunch of feudal lords squabbling over property rights? Yeah, that was awesome for the free thinking majority.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
<br />
But before you get out your confederate flags and start talking about ammurrica, though, I want you tho think about something. It's not '</span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">' that the world needed. It's<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>an</i> </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">. The outcasts and lumpen-proletariat needed a place to stand on their own two feet for long enough to show the royal families that their bloodlines weren't so unique and spectacular after all. Humanity needed an </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> so that it could evolve away from the selective imbreeding that was sure to eventually be its ruin. The human race needed some breathing room.<br />
<br />
Where are we now? Just a couple hundred years later, we inheritants of the land of milk and honey have the gall to instate laws that make it possible for us to once again freely judge a man by the color of his skin. A half a century has passed since the civil rights movements that we look back on so nostalgically, and just because our President is kind of black we think we're open minded now? I say that until our open-mindedness becomes systemic - until we are truly willing to let every man and woman wear their skin comfortably - we will continue to suffer as a species and in particular, as a country.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
<br />
With the help of an </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">, </span><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Europe</span></st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> was able to right itself. Europeans left </span><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Europe</span></st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> in the first place because there weren't enough opportunities in their home towns and countries for them to thrive in. They were persecuted for their beliefs, and they were sick and tired of living in a place where they had to worship haughty monarchs and bishops that spoke of piety through lips of luxury. To the descendants of those people, I say this: Your kings are dead and the Holocaust is over; go back home, or stop bitching about the constant influx of people from the rest of the world. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Europe had it's turn. Now it's </span><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Africa</span></st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">'s turn to become a good place to live and raise your kids. Now it's </span><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Asia</span></st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">'s turn. Now it's </span><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">South America</span></st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">'s turn. Let these people come here freely. It will do us all a lot of good in the long run. We've spent too much of our time and energy - not to mention money - on patriotism and anti-communist sentiments while at the same time shunning those people from other parts of the world that share our views when they try to emigrate here to share our vistas. Whatever happened to open arms?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
<br />
Now that you and your family has had your turn at this freedom thing, it's time to understand that there are many families in the world who haven't gotten that chance. Instead of telling people they need to go back to the </span><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Middle East</span></st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">, or </span><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Africa</span></st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">, or </span><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">Asia</span></st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> out of pure intolerance and selfish desire, consider this: They are here because they didn't fit in where they're from. They lived in a place that is chalk full of ancient regimes and strict cultures with swift corporeal and capital punishments and they wanted out. They wanted to live in a place where they can freely give their own way of thinking and living a chance. They wanted to be like you, and instead of being repelled and disgusted at this, you should feel even more proud of your country. Instead of playing the part of </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">'s jealously monogamous boyfriend, try being its Dionysian priestess. Love the fact that others love your country. Love the fact that they would rather live here with you than blow you up.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
<br />
Think of </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> as a p-patch rather than a production farm and I think you'll see things the way I do. It's a community garden. The more exotic fruits and vivid vegetable in this garden, the better. After a while, even sweet corn on the cob gets old and eventually one is forced to realize that white bread has no flavor. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">In closing, I have this simple request to make of you. While the joys of blowing shit up and barbecues are still fresh in your mind, remember why </span><st1:country-region><st1:place><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';">America</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS';"> is here in the first place. Oh, and stop being assholes to all the people who need it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-71528973982207296342010-07-04T10:44:00.000-07:002010-07-04T10:44:09.153-07:00A diary of random thoughtsThere's so much that I see in this world<br />
that seems like a patchwork quilt<br />
that was built to cover<br />
the raw reality that we live in. <br />
<br />
I can't stand the way it hides<br />
how beautiful it can be to be raw. <br />
Raw like skin that's freshly shaved and washed<br />
Raw like random droplets of liquid rock<br />
going the way of hardened ancestors<br />
Raw like fields of grass allowed to grow;<br />
like organic life in its fully natural environment.<br />
Like us in our fully natural environment.<br />
<br />
But then, what is our fully natural environment?<br />
What kind of structures would we have<br />
if we only used products and materials<br />
that lasted as long as we do?<br />
or as long as we need them to?<br />
<br />
Could we synthesize chemical separation<br />
and dispersal that is modeled directly after<br />
nature's example?<br />
<br />
Is it crazy for this to be what I think about?LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-45675043003489614512010-04-27T13:24:00.000-07:002010-04-27T13:24:07.438-07:00Creative WritingI'm in a creative writing class right now. I write poems in the class. Here are some of mine so far.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">Color #7F00FF<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">is violet in a mood?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">violet has a way<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">and violet is a way<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">violet is away on vacation<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">but violet always comes home<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">does violet even know<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">that violet is only a color?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">violet tries to be blue sometimes<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">sometimes orange, but it is fruitless for violet<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">fruitless for violet? no.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">violet shines on masculinity<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">but beneath the façade, violet femmes<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">if they only knew what violet knows<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">that swampy green would envy violet<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">red would blush in shame at violet’s tongue<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">rays of yellow would try to stain violet<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">but violet is stubborn and hard to get out<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">indigo parades as violet from time to time<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">but only violet is what it is<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">and only violet knows what mood<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">violet is in.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">violet would never presume <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">to step in for<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;">black.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>pity for god</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">No one’s from <st1:city><st1:place>Seattle</st1:place></st1:city> anymore</div><div class="MsoNormal">disagree with me if you will</div><div class="MsoNormal">as long as you will</div><div class="MsoNormal">look me in the eye:</div><div class="MsoNormal">look me in my crooked</div><div class="MsoNormal">leather eye.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Talk to me in person</div><div class="MsoNormal">and when you’re with me</div><div class="MsoNormal">could you just be with me</div><div class="MsoNormal">or is that a little too</div><div class="MsoNormal">difficult for you?</div><div class="MsoNormal">Are you</div><div class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">like</i> a god – </div><div class="MsoNormal">incapable of changing your ways?</div><div class="MsoNormal">You sure act like it:</div><div class="MsoNormal">like you think you are.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Why try to hide it now?</div><div class="MsoNormal">Just go with it now.</div><div class="MsoNormal">We all know</div><div class="MsoNormal">where you’re from</div><div class="MsoNormal">anyway.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">You’re my <st1:city><st1:place>Seattle</st1:place></st1:city></div><div class="MsoNormal">and I’m not just saying </div><div class="MsoNormal">whatever anymore,</div><div class="MsoNormal">hoping I’ll get your attention </div><div class="MsoNormal">hoping you’ll want my words</div><div class="MsoNormal">like I want your stare: </div><div class="MsoNormal">like I want your crooked </div><div class="MsoNormal">iron stare.</div><div class="MsoNormal">hoping the music will move you</div><div class="MsoNormal">hoping I’m spilling out some</div><div class="MsoNormal">social imperative</div><div class="MsoNormal">hoping it’s never been spilled like</div><div class="MsoNormal">this before</div><div class="MsoNormal">hoping Apophis never causes </div><div class="MsoNormal">the oceans to spill:</div><div class="MsoNormal">hoping there is no tsunami</div><div class="MsoNormal">bigger than all my hoping:</div><div class="MsoNormal">none to wash me far</div><div class="MsoNormal">away from the sound:</div><div class="MsoNormal">of evergreen trees snapping out</div><div class="MsoNormal">the rhythm of Ray Charles…</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">…and yet here I am </div><div class="MsoNormal">digressing and drenched in hopes – </div><div class="MsoNormal">and hoping:</div><div class="MsoNormal">hoping this isn’t another case</div><div class="MsoNormal">of being less important</div><div class="MsoNormal">than a god that is incapable of </div><div class="MsoNormal">changing his mind.</div><div class="MsoNormal">God?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Are</i> you incapable</div><div class="MsoNormal">of changing your mind?</div><div class="MsoNormal">God? GOD? God?</div><div class="MsoNormal">Are you?</div><div class="MsoNormal">How are you?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">Home, for now<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">The front lawn<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">a graveyard<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">for refrigerators and <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">conventional ovens,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">speaks to its lack<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">of conventional curb appeal.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">The large yellow moving van <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">in the driveway has a smiley face <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">painted on its side wall that <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">tries to fool the passers by <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">into thinking that all is well<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">but I think they’ve got an idea.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">Inside, the smell of spores<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">in hibernation for the winter<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">and an odd odor from dewy piles of <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">unchecked clutter accentuate<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">the chill that feathers your spine <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">while the nape of your neck realizes that <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">someone has died here.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">The mirror on the far wall mocks us <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">as we trade melodic thoughts<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">and contemplate the small statue of Buddha<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">under the tilted chandelier<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">that has in its web <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">wayward plastic coat hanger.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">The smoke of our breath commingles<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">with that of the fireplace, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">our only source of heat and light<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">and the only thing that’s stirring until suddenly<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">some hellish spirit hurls a glass vase<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">against the wall mere inches from my face.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
The back yard is silent but for the din of Aurora<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">with her pushers and walkers out In <br />
full battle rattle making their statements<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">and staking their claims and vampires.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">When the ground thaws out in a few months,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">I’ll dig your fire pit right over there<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">and we’ll finally relax.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 10.0pt;">Yup. So there that is. I swear I'll post some music soon. I'm working on it...</span></div>LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-19400266094789387202010-03-27T16:43:00.000-07:002010-03-27T16:43:03.423-07:00do you ever get the feeling?do you ever get the feeling that you've accomplished nothing after a full days work? doesn't that suck.<br />
<br />
I was just looking at the clock and it's four nineteen pm. I woke this morning with a little bit of a we-forgot-to-turn-off-the-heater-before-bed-again hangover and the fact that we're out of coffee hasn't helped any. at least i had one last little cure in a baggie to partake in, so the headache has mostly subsided. <br />
<br />
What I've been up to all day since waking up is trying to recreate my scratch tracks for comfortable skin. I decided that I would turn it into a video since I haven't posted one of these in a while, and I wanted to do something a little different than my last few posts.<br />
<br />
I think after I post this I am going to go and get some coffee and check out the georgetown music store again. that place is becoming a home a away from home lately.<br />
<br />
<br />
<object height="385" width="480"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-OdPxel0e8&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-OdPxel0e8&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br />
<br />
when i was seventeen i could already tell<br />
leaving town was heavan and sticking around was hell<br />
i had to wear my camoflauge but i<br />
never liked it when they called me sergeant<br />
<br />
cause that ain't the kind of skin that i'm comfortable in<br />
this is my skin to get comfortable in<br />
<br />
oh, then i got fired from an office job<br />
cause i wasn't gonna slob on nobody's knob<br />
i wouldn't wear their oily ties<br />
cause that ain't the way i like getting by<br />
<br />
this is my skin to get comfortable in<br />
so find your own skin to get comfortable in<br />
<br />
next thing you know i'm living in a van<br />
and a tramp making music is all that i am<br />
and i think to myself hey man this is more like it<br />
i'm getting closer to getting in<br />
<br />
to the kind of skin that i'm comfortable in<br />
only got one skin to get comfortable in<br />
<br />
through all the highs and all the lows<br />
there's been so many times i<br />
couldn't change my clothes<br />
but i wouldn't have it any other way<br />
this is the life i chose<br />
<br />
well i guess that brings us about to the stage where<br />
i'm really starting to feel my age, and<br />
i've had my share scrapes and such<br />
yeah i've played my share of double dutch<br />
to get<br />
<br />
in to the skin that i'm comfortable in<br />
this is my skin to get comfortable in only<br />
got one skin to get comfortable in<br />
<br />
through all the highs<br />
and all the lows<br />
i've played my share of dives and i've<br />
taken my share of blows<br />
but i know i got to get on<br />
cause ain't no use keeping dead crops up in rows<br />
life is sometimes just the way life goes<br />
<br />
mmm---<br />
m-m-m---<br />
mmm---<br />
(humming and stuff)<br />
<br />
this is my skin to get comfortable in<br />
got one skin to get comfortable inLoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-64997255339151966472010-03-25T18:35:00.000-07:002010-03-25T18:35:43.946-07:00Double DribbleHey all,<br />
<br />
I just want to let everybody know that even though class is over, I am going to continue on with this. And by everybody I mean you. Thanks for sticking around, eh? I mean, really, with all of the different information and entertainment you could be consuming right now I'm pretty stoked that you made it to this, the day of my daughter's...wait I'm thinking of something else. You're the best.<br />
<br />
Since you're here, you might as well share in my misery. I was working on recording some tracks for Comfortable Skin on Tuesday afternoon and I was almost done with my "test run," which I made with the intent of posting, and audacity crashed when I had only one track left to put down on it. The worst part? Though I thought I had saved my changes as I went, I had apparently done nothing of the sort. What a doosh, right?<br />
<br />
You think after having had that happen to me so many times I would have learned by now. One of the biggest problems with Audacity is it's inability to auto-save, and another is its tendency to crash when you have made too many changes without saving. Sometimes trying to apply a certain effect such as fade in/fade out to an area that has already been altered in some other way. I'm very happy with its ability to give you real-time playback so that you can record accurately because of that way that it is designed to be very lightweight on the memory drain for running it...it's a very compact engine. If Audacity were a car, it would be a Geo Metro. I should know, I drive one.<br />
<br />
So I guess the lesson of the day is to know your enemy. In my case the enemy is the fact that I can't just make the music come out of my mind the way it happens in there without me going through the motions of creating it with my imperfect limbs on instruments and electronic devices that are imperfect by design. Wouldn't it be great if there were a device that you could hook up to the head of a musician that would make the sounds inside of the folds of their mind erupt?LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-88378670243858080702010-03-22T18:30:00.000-07:002010-07-10T13:34:24.341-07:00ROOOOOAAAAAARRRRR!!!!I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who came down to TRx on Sunday afternoon to support Something Lovelies and our surprise guests Sonic Mustard and double thanks to all of those who through some money down to support Childhood Cancer Sucks, an organization that has been founded to fund research that is focused on finding a cure for Childhood Cancer. I know when I looked down I saw multiple tens and twenties in there, so that was great! F U Cancer, Thank you Nich, for having us down to your awesome shop in DTR because it was a great time.<br />
<br />
The morning before the show I didn't feel nervous at all, which was kind of weird for me. But then half way through the day I started to feel like everything was going to go wrong and like everything was going wrong already. For example, running through my head was the thought that maybe I wasn't good enough at guitar to pull off some of the simple songs we were going to play; Why did I have to get this cold and why wasn't it gone yet; I don't even think anybody's going to be in to it while we're playing...on and on and on. Thank god for Zach who gave me some sound advice, namely to can the frustration and throw it out the window. It worked. Even though I didn't pull off some of the guitar, even though my voice was a little bit off from the cold, and even though we had only played these songs together a handful of times, we had fun. And so did everyone else. Fun. Isn't that what it is all about.<br />
<br />
I leave you with the sound advice of a six year old girl on how to become a great musician. "All you have to do is have fun, and it will sound better." Rock on Millie.LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-51743434838428116392010-03-18T18:38:00.000-07:002010-03-20T22:53:21.229-07:00Demo anyone?This is the final mix of the demo that I'm burning off for booking and such. Hope you like some of the finishing touches that I've put on everything, and I would love to hear your feedback on what you think it it all.<br />
<br />
Grey Matters:<br />
<br />
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<br />
Hot Potatoe:<br />
<br />
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<br />
What Do You Know:<br />
<br />
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<br />
The Stranger:<br />
<br />
<embed allowscriptaccess="always" flashvars="valid_sample_rate=true&external_url=http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/8/2086768//the stranger mix iv.mp3" height="52" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" quality="high" src="http://www.odeo.com/flash/audio_player_standard_gray.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />
<br />
The jacket cover:<br />
<img alt="something cover small.jpg" src="http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/8/2086768/something%20cover%20small.jpg" /><br />
<br />
The CD Label:<br />
<img alt="something label.jpg" height="304" src="http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/8/2086768/something%20label.jpg" width="320" />LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247273011984178699.post-25178218511098437912010-03-10T16:32:00.000-08:002010-03-10T16:32:53.794-08:00another potato for your sacki couldn't stand it. the vocals on all my mixes have been bad. the tone of the instruments has been clashing like a titan and an iceberg. i used a not so subtle tonal shift with the wah effect so that it would soften everything. While much clarity has been lost, i think it's easier on the ears this way.<br />
<br />
<br />
<embed allowscriptaccess="always" flashvars="valid_sample_rate=true&external_url=http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/9/8/2086768/hot%20potatoe%20mix%20v.mp3" height="52" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" quality="high" src="http://www.odeo.com/flash/audio_player_standard_gray.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" wmode="transparent"></embed>LoveSeathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08648979401066820731noreply@blogger.com1