Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Forget About It

You know, if you keep keeping your thoughts to yourself this blog is going to get quite boring.

Right now I'm thinking about Handel and cats like that who had to practice their craft under the authority of a sovereign.

Drinking Miller High Life makes me want to attack Tomatoes' book. I'm glad Gibbons didn't have any cigarettes because if he did I would be smoking rather than typing. I bet a lof of typewriter era writers were good at smoking with no hands.

Edward R. Murrow. Lil B. Charles Thompson. Witchcraft.

I recorded my song: "My Sophia" today on a halfway decent reel-to-reel machine at the Casa de Angelopes. I played piano and sang. I think it is a relatively faithful representation. I should be patient and send it out for mastering to see if it could sound better, which it certainly could. Interruption: Gunshots right now. Actually, yeah, thats what I'm gonna do. Nevermind. I'm posting it right now, and taking it down later. Or shit, yeah, looks like I'm gonna get it mastered, but here's a link anyway. I'll leave it up until a better version comes out. FYI: its a .WAV.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

I Write The Songs

I was going through my recordings tonight, organizing them and whatnot. In the process I stumbled across this track. Its a demo, I suppose. I wrote it a few months ago. Seemed worth sharing, so here it is. I'm not going to write out the lyrics because they are pretty easy to understand and I am feeling a lazy.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Crescenta Valley, Berkeley, NELA, Mexico City, San Fernando Valley, and now Inglewood



The above is a screenshot from my unofficial csun transcript. I guess I really jumped through all the hoops; well enough, even, to demand that the words Cum Laude appear there. If I go through another year of classes and student teaching then I will be able to look for work as a credentialed music teacher in the state of California. I hear it's a shitty time to look for that kind of work, though, and even if that wasn't the case I'm not exactly jumping up and down about the idea of working for a SCHOOL and dealing with PARENTS and BUREAUCRACY.

I more or less checked out of the music teacher life-path about six months ago. I'm not sure why. It didn't feel like a choice. One semester of pain just to finish what I started, a few weeks on the road working and partying, and now for the time being I'm living in the Casa de Angelopes, aka Funderland: a warehouse in Inglewood filled with everything you'd need to build a bike or a bedroom, paint a picture or record an album. It's also filled with people and pretty much lacking in privacy. I've always had my own room or my own dwelling, so its an interesting change. I'm spending a lot of time doing a lot of things. I can be more or less constantly productive here. When I'm tired of working on my own projects I can help people with theirs, or clean up the constantly evolving mess or make food or whatever, etc., amen. One foot in front of the other, the party never ends.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Acid Kid

Long story short: I tried to talk down a schizoid. I thought he was just a harmless acid casualty. I ended up getting punched in the side of the head. I didn't react because he had already crossed a lot of lines with me at that point., and what's a little punch between friends? He asked me to punch him back, and I honored his request. It was a terrible punch. I'd never tried to really punch somebody before. The hilarious part is that he humored me. For a brief moment he was trying to make me feel better rather than the other way around. He said something like: "That was fine. Good job."

It ended well for both parties. I had fun and the cops let him go before psychiatric services could get there. Something weird: A day or two earlier I was thinking that I'd like to punch someone. It wasn't an aggressive/anger thing. It was pure curiosity. I was wondering what it would feel like, physically, to punch someone in the face. I wondered if I could deliver a good punch.

Anyway: I was messing around with my new ukelele today, and I wrote a little song-segment to celebrate Acid Kid. I played it for my sister and she laughed. I could probably write more, but the house was chaotic and I've got to get on the road. I'm about to return to home sweet home Los Angeles after almost three weeks on the road. Not that I have a home there or anything.

Listen to Acid Kid (Sorry for the horrible quality. I recorded it with my phone)

lyrics:

Acid kid
Dance with me
How'd your nose
Get so bloody?
Take my word
No one is trying to kill you
At least no one here