Oh! You Pretty Things

Lots of writing, lots of yoga, lots of meditating. No wonder I've been feeling good. I've been researching sensory deprivation tanks and will probably visit one in the coming days. Without taking any psychedelics, I'll be able to trip my balls off. Of course, my intent is purely educational - I'm not looking for kicks. Rae is on board, possibly Spira. Any other takers? Will cost about fifty smackers for an hour in the tank. I'll have to save up.

If you don't know anything about sensory deprivation tanks, the idea is this: you climb into a tank of water that's the same temperature as your skin and packed with epsom salt so you become extremely buoyant, put in a pair of ear plugs, and close the lid to the tank. Once that's accomplished, you're bereft of your senses. It's pitch black, you can't hear a thing, and you feel like you're floating in the cosmos. The ego can't function here and what's left is some deep meditation. Very therapeutic, I hear, and quite a trip.
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It's safe to say I'm fine with my decision to not go camping. It's Wednesday, and everyone who went is still stuck in Vermont due to the damage caused by Irene. Man, of all the weekends to go....

I can see how their prolonged stay could be a good thing. If they had shitty weather leading up to the storm and they came home the day of the storm or soon after, a good chunk of their trip would have been less than ideal weather-wise. I have it on good authority that, despite being stuck where they are, the weather has improved greatly, which means they're finally experiencing ideal conditions. Plus, when nature makes it impossible for you to get back to the "real" world, you can really relax into your situation, guilt free. Really? I get to camp with my friends a few more days and not have to go to work?

I don't know their situation. I'm assuming they're camping out, but for all I know, their tents were destroyed during the storm and they've been sleeping in some farmer's hay loft. And, while getting to extend your vacation is a cool concept, they're still missing out on getting paid. So, of course it could be a shitty time. I'm guessing the trip has had its ups and downs. The sweet and the sour. Craig and I had talked about an autumn camping trip. If I were a betting man, I'd wager he might not be up for that trip.

I spent several hours working on lyrics for a song that doesn't require many. I'm impressed with my discipline in this regard; while I'm usually more or less satisfied with the final product, writing lyrics is often a chore for me. I didn't finish the song - I hope to tonight - but I made some headway. I should go listen to Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan for inspiration. Or go the Chris Cornell route: he's said in the past that when he's uninspired, he'll pull out the CD booklet of Captain Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica and read the lyrics. Maybe I'll follow suit. Anyway, this song is one I really like, with some of my favorite harmonies. They remind me of Joni Mitchell.

Re-reading John Keel's Mothman Prophecies. Fuckin' good book! I'm also back to my Wheel of Time re-read. Just about finished The Shadow Rising. Only about eight more massive books until I'm caught up.

I'm out, bitches!

Listen, a woman with a bull dozer built this house of love

The wind it gusts and the rain in falls, but so far Hurricane Irene has been gentle with us. Hope it remains that way; we've still got a ways to go.

On Friday, I went to Jim's mother's wake after work. She died unexpectedly and the disbelief and sorrow was evident on every one's faces. Jim had just gotten married only several days before. You just never know.

Glad I didn't go camping this weekend with the weather being the way it was, although I have no idea how it was up in Vermont - could have been ideal - but the risk of it being shitty for at least a good portion of the time was pretty high. Hope those that went escaped the effects of Irene.

Wrote and recorded a song over the course of the last few days and I'm not sure what I think of the final product. Perhaps it could have been longer, maybe the vocals could be different. I need some space from it and then I'll decide what to do.

Between you and me, I'm not in the mood to be writing, so I'm going to bail out and do other things. I may work on music, finish watching The Red Shoes, maybe re-watch 13 Assassins because it rocked so hard, do some reading. Maybe all of these things. If the power stays on, I'll be able.

This is a song Charles Manson stole from the Beatles, we're stealing it back

Heard some sad news about my friend's mother passing away. She was a sweet woman. Seems lately death has been in my periphery. On at least two occasions, a friend of some of my friends has died. And then there's the spate of pet deaths....Ah, let's move on; I'm not about depressing you or me this fine summer day.

After watching Bill Maher's Religulous the other day, I'm even more distressed by religion's predominance in politics, particularly on the right, and even more particularly in the Tea Party. And when religion has a voice in politics, you can bet it's of the greasy kind.

Wrote a pretty song the other night that I've been thinking about a lot. The trick of it is going to be the lyrics. I need to get them right; they will be at the forefront. I will probably only record one track of guitar behind it and add little else. I'm itching to get at it.

Trying to work it out so I can go camping this weekend, but it doesn't look like it will be in the stars. We'll see. My only consolation is that Sunday looks to be a shitty day weather-wise. If I don't go, I will try to get something together in a week or two.

I posed this question to myself today: If Super Bowl Sunday was considered a holiday, would it be the most popular? My answer: Hell, yes. And, for the record, for all intents and purposes, Super Bowl Sunday is a holiday. And, it's the most effective; no other holiday sedates the masses quite like this one.

Or something like that.

She don't care no more, she gets paid on Friday

A bit of tiring day. Moved stuff around at work - filing cabinets, tables, a safe - and went grocery shopping afterward. My ride home was marred by a terrific amount of traffic. Frustrating. And even more frustrating was the phone call I had with a friend who thought we made concrete plans tonight when it was my assertion that we didn't. Put me in a conflicted kind of mood.

I'll probably work on music tonight. Been listening a lot to the songs I put down last week. I like them quite a bit. Some are more unpolished than others, to be sure, but I really like the songs themselves.

My experiment of sending songs to people was not a rousing success. My main intent was to send Scott songs because we'll be working on them together soon, but I figured I'd send a few to select others who I thought might enjoy them. One person responded.

Look, I wasn't expecting a cavalry of immediate praise; acknowledgement of receipt would have sufficed. "Hey, got the file" would have been better than the wall of silence I was met with. I'll be writing songs whether these people give a shit or not, but isn't it bad form to not even acknowledge the fact that someone shared a piece of himself with you? And it's not like I'm a ceaseless self-promoter, hawking my wares to all and sundry ad infinitum. As a confident and viable songwriter, I should probably be doing more of that, but I don't. In other words, It's rare that I share music with people and when I do it has more significance than if I was doing so constantly. Or something like that.

Artists are in a tricky position. On one hand you have to be sensitive in order to create effectively, on the other you have to be thick-skinned when facing the scrutiny of the public. Music is one of the few aspects of my life that I feel I'm adept at and make it mostly for the sheer pleasure of it. Yet, it's nice to get feedback, to be acknowledged.

I feel like I spend a lot of time supporting other people's endeavors. I'm not always successful at this and, despite my efforts, some may feel I've fallen short in that regard. I don't know, but I do know that I hardly extend myself to others. I kind of hate what I'm about to write because it sounds real fucking whiny, but there are only a couple of people that are close with me who show an interest in my life. You know, something along the lines of, "So, what have you been up to?".

To be frank, I'm okay with that most of the time because my life as constituted isn't chock full of exciting events (which is why I keep a blog - ha!). It really doesn't bother me that much, especially because I know my friends do care about me, but it does bother me when I share something I'm proud of and put care into and get zero response. It's rude and dismissive. Maybe I need perspective.

In the end, it doesn't really matter. I'm going to continue making music and there will be people who like it and there will be people who don't. There will be still others who are indifferent. It doesn't matter. It's all subjective anyway.

For the record, I'm not angry at anyone, but I am disappointed. It's a dangerous game to expect people to respond the way you'd like them to respond. That road is fraught with bad tidings. So, on the heels of this silence, I'm left wondering if the non-responders even listened to the songs. Maybe they couldn't be bothered. Or maybe they listened to the songs and hated them and didn't want to tell me. Or, better yet, maybe they're so in love with the songs that they feel like they need to avoid responding via email and instead sit down for a lengthy pow wow and go over all the wonderful things I created. Could it be that my songs had such a powerful effect on them that they were rendered speechless and unable to function in any other way? It's happened to me before. When I first heard "If I Had A Million Dollars", I was a drooling gimp for a month. Of course that wasn't the result of me enjoying the song.

I'm going to go make music and you can rest assured I will not be sending any of it to anyone barring Scott and maaayyybbeeee one or two select people. The rest can go fuck themselves.

Did I just say that. Seems I did. Ha!

And I wish I'd listened to the words you said

Went to bed too late last night (around two-ish) and woke up at four a.m. wide awake. I had a ton of energy for some reason. Wasn't stressed or anything, just wide awake. Don't recall when I fell back asleep, but when my alarm went off I nearly slept through it, something I never do. So, yeah, I'm rather tired, but I'll manage.

Over the weekend, I figured out the business of converting songs from my recorder to my computer. And when I discovered that the format they were in (WAV) made the songs too big to send via email, I figured out how to convert the WAV files to AAC. Persistence pays off.

For the last several days, I've been writing, recording, and sending music. I think I was at it for eight or nine hours on Sunday. Being able to put song ideas on my iPod has noticeably quickened the writing process. I wrote two songs last night that only need lyrics. I recorded them, then copied them to my computer, and from there I emailed them to Scott for his perusal and put them on my iPod. I've been listening to them a lot and hope to have them finished in a day or two.

When I haven't been immersed in music, I've been doing other sexy things. I watched 13 Assassins streaming on Netflix last night. I'd been wanting to see that one since I read Roger Ebert's glowing review several months ago. Yesterday, he posted on Twitter that it was streaming on Netflix. I watched it almost immediately after reading that. Really, really good, t'was. Paid homage to Seven Samurai, one of the greatest movies of all time - in my top three, if you must know - but didn't steal. I kind of want to watch it again, it was so good.

I also finished Martin's A Dance With Dragons. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. Clearly, it was very well written and better than almost everything else in the genre, but it didn't really grip me like the previous installments. Seemed like not much happened, but when I think back upon it, a lot happened. I think, because I'd been waiting so long for the book to come out, my expectations may have been too high. I bet, when I read the book again, I'll be able to comprehend it better. There were some mind blowing turn of events near the end. Hope I don't have to wait too long before the next installment.

Last night, as I may my way to the kitchen, I saw Ray moving things around in the dining room. I asked her what she was up to. "Oh, I'm thinking about making an obstacle course for Mike, but I'm not sure if I have enough supplies to do it." Reason number 12 why I like having Rae as a roommate.

Both of my roommates are so low maintenance and pleasant, it took me a week or two to really accept it. I kept waiting for some kind of drama, a bout of complaining, something. Nope. Not yet,at least. They are both so generous, too. I really like the dynamics of the household. The only thing that would make it better is if Janelle and Pooch Edward Bottoms still lived here. Then we'd have an all-star lineup, to be sure.

Ok, time to work on songs. I think it may be an early night, which means I'll probably stay up even later than I did last night. Oh, Kevin, you so cray-zay!

El Arbol del Olvido

An active weekend. I came home from work on Friday feeling a little beaten and defeated. My week had been a series of punches and jabs and by the end of it I was about ready to throw in the towel. But I made it, and was invigorated by friends and my own pure heart that heals faster and more efficiently than the average heart. Or something like that.

I had planned to do little on Friday night. I had been recording throughout the week, and I was eager to get back at it. Plus, the week had sapped me of energy and resourcefulness; I wasn't feeling very ambitious as far as social pursuits went.

When I got home, I hung out with Rae a little bit and my mood brightened. She invited me to attend Shakespeare In The Park at the Boston Common, but I declined because it would have entailed me leaving at that moment and I still hadn't eaten.

Later, I sat down for some recording and was fairly productive. I talked with Craig on the phone for a little bit and then Fred invited me to come outside and partake in the barbecue he and some friends were having. I accepted. Hey, when someone offers you beer and burgers and steak and beer and bratwurst and beer and hot dogs and chips and beer and corn on the cob and potato salad, you cannot say no. It's in the Constitution somewhere. Ah, but these days the Constitution has as much value as a coffee-stained diner napkin (Like how I injected a bit of politics? Huh? Pretty cool, that, no?)

I did join the festivities, but only briefly. Foley had called after I spoke with Fred and I ended up walking over to his house. We had some beers and smoke and listened to and talked about music, among other things. He played me some stuff he'd been recording with Scott, which was impressive, and then we talked about the flexible nature of time and how to use it to your advantage. And then...well, it was getting late so I walked home.

Yesterday, I recorded, watched Mad Men, read, and then headed over to Spira's. When I got there, we stopped over Jonathan and Viboo's place for some authentic Indian chai and conversation. I'd met them before and liked them right away. Until I found out they were....gay! Nah, it was cool hanging out with a gay couple because I rarely get to do so. Also in attendance was their friend, Becca, who had just returned from living in England for several years.

We went for dinner at Life Alive, a fantastic and ultra-affordable vegan restaurant in Cambridge. I got a dish called The Emperor that consisted of corn, broccoli, raw almonds, whey, avocado, beans, and cheddar cheese, over brown rice and drizzled with soy sauce. We stayed there for a couple of hours. And the music they played was top of the shelf. We heard Sufjan Stevens, God Speed You Black Emperor, Tom Waits, and a bunch of other stuff that made me feel all warm inside.

It was a great time and I liked meeting Becca. I might hunt her down on Facebook. We'll see. After dinner, Spira and I went back to her place and watched Enter The Void. I came home around one thirty and listened to a Ted Gunderson interview, falling asleep midway through.

Today. I might finish A Dance With Dragons. I'm on the last chapter and am a little hesitant about finishing it because I know I'll probably have to wait another five or six years for the next installment. By that time, Michelle Bachman will probably be President (Yes, it's possible - our dumb-ass citizens gave W. two terms, after all).

And some recording will probably happen. Who knows? The day is a blank slate.

You mute my fears when you talk close to my ear

I probably shouldn't be doing this. I'm not in the best of moods; I'm frustrated with how shitty my recording went tonight, among other things. You know what I feel like? You wouldn't, that's why I'm going to enlighten you. I feel like I'm in Purgatory. Not in the biblical sense, but as a descriptor of the current state of my life. I've reported before that things have been trending towards the shitty, and they have been, but life has also thrown in some bright spots. Purgatory? Oh, I don't know. I'm just frustrated and probably shouldn't be doing this.

But....

But I'm still here for some reason. Frustrated, fed up, angry, resigned. I should be recording or doing something else. Like jumping off a fucking bridge. Best idea I've had all night.

Post script. I returned to recording. It wasn't as bad as I made it out to be, but it needed work. So I worked at it. And it sounds better, but still could use some work. It's okay, it shows I take a level of pride in my music. Maybe I'll post my output here, but I'm not quite sure how to do it.