The Present is a Gift, and I Just Wanna Be.

Theres a UFO in my head.

2007-06-18T23:12:42Z

Well, I guess it's flying. Whatever it's doing it's definitely "unidentified" and occupying a considerable amount of space within my psyche. I feel as though I should write about it but that's pretty difficult since I really dont know a damn thing about it. It seems large and opaque in the middle. From there, It fades out into a more transparent substance. Like paint sitting on water or perhaps even a storm cloud. Heavy, though. Oh, I dunno.

Things are definitely better for me concerning that giant stick of bubble gum God chewed and placed inside my skull. This double-edge often allows us more tools to diagnose other issues in our lives. That said, perhaps this UFO is some sort of sneak preview. Perhaps it's my senior show, some new connection, or yet another form of life-altering change. Whatever it is, I just hope I'm ready for it when it comes.

My mom informed me yesterday that there was a Juneteenth festival going on not too far from where we live. I wish I had known this earlier that evening when I was bitching to myself about how blah the day had been. Saturday was cool, though. I went out thrifting with Steffani and found a few nice things. Next time, we oughta do it earlier and on a day with not so much customer traffic. We should also eat first. By the time we hit up "Bojo's Antique Mall" we were fucking spent. We both hadnt eaten a thing the entire day so that coupled with the mental exhaustion one would receive from merely thinking about all the shit we saw in that place would be enough to pass out.

After I drove Steffani home, I took myself home. I was walking up to my porch when the older lady who lives next door greeted me from the other side of the fence. One of the benefits of my new-found head-space is that it allows me to provoke discussion with people I know little to nothing about. As she was about to go in the house, I decided to ask her how she was doing. From there, I learned some pretty interesting things about her. I told her about my thrift shop ventures and she expressed interest in that sorta thing as well. She spoke of passions concerning upholstery, her dreams of a chartreuse couch.

Me and my expensive desires

2007-05-24T01:42:34Z

Today was eventful. I had a dentist appointment this morning at 11:15 and I woke up at what I thought was 10:00 to prepare for it. It turns out that my clock was mistakenly set an hour ahead of what time it really was so I ended up taking my Amoxicillin tablets an hour too early. Luckily, when I called to tell my dentist office what I did, I was told that everything would be fine and that I'd be able to come in at my originally scheduled time. When I arrived, my wait time was nonexistent. I greeted the woman at the front desk and was immediately directed into the patient room. After a couple a minutes, the person that would be cleaning my teeth walked into the room. I told her of my concerns with my teeth - the occasional swelling of my gums, sensitive wisdom teeth, and the near certianty that I now had cavities somewhere.

The cleaning of my teeth went surprisingly smooth. Apparently, I have some pretty good teeth genes because when she inspected them for cavities and areas of concern, she found nothing. I was almost sure that I had aquired at least one or two during the 2 or 3 years I've gone without a dentist appointment...not to mention all of the sugar drenched crap I consume. Not that I wanted any, of course. I am just quite surprised but mostly, thankful as hell. The only area of concern was my wisdom teeth. I definitely plan to have my bottom two taken out since they havent grown in correctly. They sometimes cause my gums back there to get all sensitve too, so thats more than enough reasoning for those suckers to go. I'll probably have the top two taken out too since they're so hard to brush. We'll see.

Other than that, I got some routine maintenance taken care of for my car and submitted more applications for jobs and whatnot. I went to a career fair yesterday, too. They really didnt have anything for a full time student but I made the best of the situation by engaging most everyone I saw. I basically used that place to practice speaking to strangers in a professional and expressive manner. On a whim, I decided to stop by a used piano store today. I walked in not really planning on buying anything; mostly just looking for information. I talked to this quirky guy about my current state as a somewhat poor college student with an unwavering interest in learning how to truly tickle the ivories. He was amazing -the dude was literally tuning a piano (correctly) whilst holding a conversation with me.

Anyway, as I was walking around this place admiring all of the shit that in retrospect I wonder if I'll ever be able to afford, I arrived at this one particular piece of ass that seemed too good to be true: A 1967 upright Baldwin piano for a mere 1,400 dollars.A fucking Baldwin. aka. one of the most respected piano makers on the face of the planet. Jesus. Help me. So of course as I stood there, arrested by a state of "stupid bliss" ( *nods to derelict_tiger* ) a salemans ( aka. the store owner ) approached me. We greeted each other and it wasnt long before we were on the subject of Mr. Baldwin. I asked him a few questions about the piano that he probably didnt expect a beginner like me to know anything about. He answered them all admirably, though. I went on to the subject of the piano's sound and playibility.

Not too far into our discussion, he sat down to play the piano. The piano came to life and had sex with the atmosphere. It didnt matter that his attack was pale and his fingers were stiff. It didnt matter that the outward appearance of the piano was homely at best. Hell, it almost didn't matter that I hadnt even touched a single key. The piano played him like a pimp and I'm certian that he now owes it money. *Sigh* Will they see me again?

Tactical Espionage!

2007-05-16T21:54:45Z

After work last night, I stayed awake and waited for my school to open. I was under the impression that I would be able to use the computer lab to aid in my job search. I called at around 8:30 to make sure they were open and what proceeded was an interrogation concerning my plans at the school. In the wake of these new security employees, everything around there has gotten increasingly militant lately. I recall at one point they where forcing everyone to wear readily visible ID badges. Eventually, they chilled out on that, though. (Like I was wearin the shit anyways...) Now, you have to sign in at the front desk and practically piss in a cup and slit your wrist to get in the fucking building. And when you do actually make it in, you have to conform to sixty-hundred- million-thousand rules...many of which forbid access to the shit I came up there to do in the first place. Most of this came before the Virginia Tech thing, mind you. These people just need to chill the fuck out or fall asleep in front of one of those security screens while I violate all of their shit in plain sight like in the movies. Perhaps that actually did happen because right after I was done getting my paper work from the business office, I took my ass right on upstairs to the computer room. I remained all up in their mix for at least 3 hours sending out resumes, tweaking my graphic software files and taking the occasional piss. Fuck'em. I felt like some kinda pimp ass spy sneaking around the school all nimble like..sometimes coming within a few feet of one of those tragically ignorant buffoons. A southern spy, though. Clad in cowboy boots holding a 20lb guitar case. What?

usb_chord @ 2007-05-13T20:42:00

2007-05-14T01:49:02Z

"Sorry, Crunky Kong is already registered as a Screen Name."

compromise

2007-04-28T19:18:52Z

So the bulk of my assignments are out of the way and it's definitely something to celebrate. Since I dont have time to throw a party or run naked through the street, I'm just gonna put on Axis: Bold as Love and clean my room.

usb_chord @ 2007-04-24T04:08:00

2007-04-24T09:10:31Z

I need a fucking vacation.

Rich-text sellin that

2007-04-23T03:39:42Z

I'm doing it done. Yesterday was different. Sporadic cat-naps abound. I messed around with my assignments off and on throughout and eventually fell asleep (again) on the couch with my Art History book as a makeshift pillow during an episode of Cosby Show (how the fuck did that happen). By the time I woke up it was 6:30AM. I was mildly unhappy and extremely discombobulated. I dunno what was up with that but it makes me think about idiots from high school that would see me resting my head on my desk and ask if I'd gotten anyone pregnant. Wait, WHAT? I wonder where this idea comes from stating any male with "a baby on the way" is chronically lethargic. If that were the case, Tracy Morgan would be a fucking narcoleptic by now.

sans comic

2007-04-20T10:53:12Z

I'm gonna talk to you more; I swear to it. Things have been good-as-they-can-be-considering with me lately. I had a job interview the other day at Fast Signs (aka. any place that isnt Fedex).The interview went good and I'm fairly confident. Maybe I'll score a decent paying job there and finally live my definition of a notable summer. I dunno, we'll see.
I'm eating healthy. Despite how good it feels to eat (and shit) right, it's so easy to fuck all of that up thanks to the massive amounts of tasty death sentences out there. Fuck that though. Apples, Pastachios, Grapefruits and Tuna have my back. At the moment school has everything else. These last couple of weeks just arent moving...yet.

Thank God for instrumentals

2007-03-19T23:30:38Z

You can have all the technical ability in the world and still fail at life.
On a related note, Eric Johnson is an awesome guitarist. His voice sounds
like a dolphin getting laid and his lyrics contain more cheese than kraft singles.
His guitar tone is flawless but what he does with it floats at the bottom of my
toilet after a hearty meal. The cover art.. hell, the entire package is completely hideous.

Manhattan is perfect.

(Welcome back, Juntness!)

A whole lot of nothing could still produce something.

2007-02-23T04:11:00Z

I always imagine what I am like to other people. What stereotypical role do I play in everyone else's existence? It really is true. We are many things to many people. To Brooklyn, I'm the awkward transistion- a needy and gullible duckling. To Paris, I'm the exotic representation of knowing- a refreshing addition to anyone's perspective. To me, I am these thoughts.

I havent updated in awhile because I havent felt like writing about me. The words come and go at their own free will. My brain worries about them like the concerned father it is. By the time I'm in front of this computer screen, they're usually gone several times over. Slowly I'm beginning to adjust to what my life has become. Being without a car has really made me thankful for the people in my life that I consider friends and/or family. Without them, I'm pretty sure I would have dropped out of school this semester and/or gotten fired from my job. It's easy to take for granite how important something like a car is until it's gone. Whatever it is that God decides to place under my command, I will gratefully accept it as my own.

In other news, I hate my job. It's okay though because the feeling is mutual. My job doesnt
want to see me succeed. It wants me to over-sleep and be late for class everyday so I can
loose the chance to get the tuition reimbursement that it offers. Since I'm an art student, It also doesnt want me to be able to use my hands. I learned this after I hurt my thumb at work one day. Now it hurts to hold a pencil (or fret a chord). I think it may be plotting against my back too. I have plans to quit in June before it figures out how to chop my dick off. Goodnight.

I wonder if majoring in illustration is a good idea for me.

2006-12-13T22:57:24Z

I'm scared.

usb_chord @ 2006-12-11T01:52:00

2006-12-11T07:52:16Z

What the fuck are these beautiful sounds coming from my speakers?

I wouldnt know what to do with it all.

2006-12-10T20:26:34Z

I got a little scholarship cash in the mail yesterday. 75 bucks. Monday, I'm gonna deposit that into my account and use it to help me get Christmas presents for a few friends and family. I enjoy buying stuff for people. I especially like being secretive about it so that makes Christmas the perfect excuse. I was out with my cousin yesterday riding around town; he was searching for some dress shoes. We went to TJMaxx where I bought a chocolate blazer and Versace Blue Jeans cologne (aka. sex in a bottle) for myself.

Also, I'm reading this book. I honestly couldnt finish the introduction with out tearing up. Gorgeous. I think I'm in love. Please buy it.

because Brownstone said it best

2006-12-10T07:05:44Z

I like to talk. I doubt it would occur to most people that I can be talkative but it's true and I do enjoy it. The situation has to be right though. I love a good conversation. I like the kind in which you say something, then the other person says something, and in the middle of what theyre saying you think of something that relates to it and you justcantwaittogetitout! (too excited?) It's a chain of awesomeness often times better than most people's awkward attempts at sex (...which probably wouldnt be so awkward if they tal_ed ). Talking helps you to discover things about yourself and whoever you're talking to. Sometimes it's a joy and other times it hurts because you can discover things you didnt want to know or uncover things that you didnt want to admit to or address. In ANY relationship (friends, parents, bf/gf, yourself, ect.) talking is vital because you WILL fall out of sync with one another (and/or yourself) if you dont.

I remember when my big sister went away to college. I was so used to hearing her and mom loudly discussing some fabricated soap oprea scandal or issues with her job, boyfriend, ect, that it was odd adjusting to the fact that the only reason our home is so quiet right now is because we dont share the same communication. Of course me being much younger at the time, I didnt exactly propose this same logic then, but I knew enough to know that I would much rather be somewhere else. Almost a decade later, we are still dealing with the same communication gap that we *both* created all those years ago. My mom would often times have issues with the way I was handling a particular situation and call my sister -who by that time had moved to Atlanta to start her family- to inform her about it. My sister would then of course call me speaking as if she were mom; telling me all the things that the person living in the house with me should have. 3rd person parenting. This obviously only made the gap that much wider.

Lately, things have been getting a lot better. Yesterday, -fueled by an internal realization- I decided that I would call her at work. Not because I wanted something back from the store or because I needed a reason to get bitched at. I called her just to tell her that I love her. I've occasionally thought about doing this before but the thought never bit me as hard as it did then. It felt good. She was obviously surprised since I'm not really known to her as the type of person to make gestures like that. Ever. Actually, she came in my room (in the middle of paragraph 2) and gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me how much she loved me and how happy she was to be alive. Lately, she has been talking to me about things going on in her life and just generally being a good mom. If things can continue along this path, I think we will be fine.

installed

2006-12-09T04:32:24Z

   These are pictures of an installation I did for my final project in a studio class called Idea, Process, and Criticism
(or IPC). At the very beginning of this class, everyone had to pick a topic to make art about. It didnt matter what
this topic was so long as you felt that it would remain interesting throughout the entire duration of the semester.
It was funny, we all were picking these larger than life topics; some of us attempting to solve the world's
problems through our artistic efforts. At first, I wanted my semester topic to be equality then I decided that
I couldnt handle the stress of making art about something perfect. Something that would never ever truly
happen. To make an extremely long story short. I decided to make art about something I knew I would
enjoy researching and thinking about. This topic was nostalgic video gaming.

   Anyone familar with the game Tetris would understand that this piece was inspired by it. I cut everyone of these
forms out of construction paper and applied them to these two windows with double sided tape. I felt that these
windows were a great environment for my installation because of how the space between the windows interacted
with the piece. This interaction is what created a volumetric installation. --- I'm gonna end this here. I have to go to work.
Any question(s) that you have about this piece that I didnt cover just post them and I'll reply later when I get back.

he is most

2006-12-06T09:54:47Z

Sometimes I just wanna control his being.

To make like a football coach and shout orders at him while pointing in all directions at once.
To fold him up like a paper airplane and thrust him off a cliff into salvation.
To marinate his brain cells in Miso soup.
To destroy his destruction.
May God help him.

yawning xacto fingers

2006-12-04T23:23:37Z

Yesterday I worked on an installation piece for my finals. Actually, I think I finished it. No, we finished it. I enlisted the help of a good friend of mine in efforts to accomplish this task quicker. The task was to tape Tetris or "tetromino" pieces (that I spent 20 years cutting out of 600 ply construction paper with a dull blade) to a pair of 7 or 8 foot high glass windows. From the outside. In the cold. Burning hands and toes complete with a snotty nose. It was perfect and I lusted after every second. The last sentence was a lie.

I took a few pictures of this as it was happening. Most of these pictures came out fuzzy or blurry. (Random: Blurry photographs can be strange.) It's hard to steady a camera when your hands are burning cold. Even still, I probably should post some pictures.

Also, I went to the wreckastoe today and bought some morrissey and meltbanana. The Morrissey CD (you are the quarry) comes in this little cardboard slip case so *OF COURSE* spin street has to try and destroy it for me by putting their big ass bright ass orange USED! stickers all over it. If it rips the case I'm taking it back.

Bravia

2006-11-14T00:36:42Z

"The World's First Television for Men and Women"

This is a link to the leading ad for the new Sony Bravia television.

The ad is broken up into two parts; "why men like it "and "why women like it". Sony attempts to explain by giving you the same reasons for both genders and changing certain words to be more masculine or feminine. (Seriously.) I'm interested in knowing what makes this TV anymore unisex than the ones I have in my house already. The two parts of the ad do nothing to convince me of anything other than A.)Sony believes that because I am a male, I love football, hogging the couch, and "killer" displays" or B.) because I'm a women, I love drama and hate his football lamp. Sony reps say ad campaign for new Bravia line focuses on style instead of specs. Thats great, but cant you do that without making tired ass assumptions about what genders like and dislike? The ipod is sexy for no particular reason other than sexy is sexy. Is there anything wrong with that? The consumer certainly doesnt think so. If you want to make it stylish, make it stylish; but shut the fuck up if you dont have any worthwhile insight to back it up.

The Invisible Bill: Tailgating the Government

2006-08-28T03:48:27Z

   Car insurance is a scam. Most of us have no choice but to fall victim to it because we are trapped. It's either that or paying out of pocket for a Corvette you rear-ended in a "freak accident". Some of us choose to not drive insured and for others, it's chosen for us. I work with a guy that lives on his own in a one bedroom apartment struggling to make ends meet. He's making it, but only because he decided to take a gamble with his future by driving uninsured. It was either that, or make an insured car his new home because his other bills are much more important to his immediate livelihood. The consequences for "ridin' dirty" are severe and on some occasions, ridiculous. Depending on where you are, who you are, and your past record, your punishment could be anything from an expensive fine, license suspension, jail time or all of the above.

   The basic premise for the way car insurance functions is pretty simple. You, the driver, pay a monthly bill that, depending on your plan, "protects" you should you should anything happen to your shit or anyone else's. I have a form of car insurance called liability; the cheapest insurance you can get. It only covers damages that you are liable for (ie. your fault). So if I were to some how total an 18-wheeler in my two seater, the insurance company would pay for the 18 wheeler but I'd be looking for a new car. Even with this minimum coverage, a serious blow is being delt to my wallet every month.

   It almost doesnt feel worth it. I dont blame some of these people who decide not to have it. Car insurance doesnt work for the consumer no where NEAR as well as it should. The only way I'd feel as if I'm getting my money's worth is if I were to have a wreck every other month...and THAT would get me kicked off the insurance block. What happens to that 180 dollars that I give those bastards every month? Why cant at least a fraction of that be available to me at the end of the year as incentive for a not having any tickets, collisions, ect and STILL having to pay as if I did? I know why, because that would be too much like right.

Old White Women Wear Elastic Jeans

2006-08-12T08:42:32Z

My sister is flying in from ATL (where she lives) today to visit us here in Memphis (and celebrate her birthday). I think she's gonna be 31. I dont feel bad that I'm not entirely sure. Birthdays happen far to often for me to be able to keep up with all of them ALL of the time. She's bringing her son, Matthew (2?) also. All of this means that I'm being promptly kicked out of my room upon her arrival so she and her son can use it and spread their filth all around. As far as I'm concerned, THAT is her birthday present. However, I did randomly buy her some Nectarine body butter. It was inexpensive, smelled nice and the packaging was pleasant to look at so I practically had no choice. It doesnt feel right giving it as a birthday gift per se. So I'm presenting it as more of a "Hey, I saw this when I was out one day and I know you like this kinda stuff so I bought it for you." My back hurts.

Edit: Because of the bullshit with the idiots in london, her flight to Memphis has been canceled THREE TIMES since yesterday. They gave her a room at some hotel and she ended up arriving here at about 7 pm. smh

usb_chord @ 2006-07-13T15:10:00

2006-07-13T20:17:17Z

JWAEDBSFKJDFGVKLIREMONEY!!!!!!!

The kitchen is open and it's time to getcha weight up.

2006-07-10T21:04:56Z

For the most part, my visit to Baton Rouge was a great experience. I say for the most part because consistent headaches and overall restlessness hindered me from enjoying myself as much as I know I could have. sick_of_being_j(Jeremy) and yesternight (Erin) are awesome folks. The time I spent in the company of J made it very clear to me that he was a caring, warm and down-to-earth person. Unfortunately, 99.9% time that I was in the presence of Erin, I was suffering from extreme exhaustion as a result of sleep deprivation. Those conditions seemed only to exacerbate as I spoke so I tried not to. I felt like a fucking zombie. But even through all of that, it was obvious that she shared Jeremy's warmth of character and wit. RBL-ODOC and whatnot. seanp (Sean) was just as crunk as the last time I saw him and The Cocker Spaniels set was high quality.

He played two newer songs; "over-educated under-achiever" and "steal my guitar". The latter is, at the moment, my favorite song of all time. The fluidity of his fretting hand and the control over his palm muting had improved considerably since his show here in Memphis. Due to extreme technical difficulties, safety hazards and just about everything else that can go wrong, I didnt get a chance to truly experience Wilderness Pangs firsthand. Hopefully there will be a next time of some sort. Whether it's with Wilderness Pangs, Cockspan or solo, I'm quite eager to hear more eardrumming from Toussaint-Baptiste. I met space_riot (Clay) at the yard show in Baton Rouge too. I learned of him through vitamin_love (Steffani) a long time ago. Since then, I would visit his journal every so often to admire his prose and read about his ventures through art school. A kickass human being, he is.

All in all, I enjoyed myself but between my physical state and the social problems I already have, I just didnt feel as open or loose as I know I could have been. It was always pretty easy to look distantly at Sean, J, Clay and Erin as some of Steffani's friends as opposed to our friends. But the more I learn about them, the harder it is to deny that...dem might be my peoples too.

Let's pretend I'm still pissed off.

2006-07-01T03:15:36Z

   This morning, I decided that I should go ahead and take my car through inspection. For those of you who arent familiar with that process, it pretty much means that I have to drive through this building that kinda looks like a car wash and have one of the people working there test a few of my car's important features (such as emergency breaks, "blinkers" and fuel emission levels ) to make sure that it's relatively safe for public streets. Since I wasnt completely sure where the hell this place was located, I felt that I should ask my mother if she had an idea. She didnt know and recommended that I call my sister. . .who didnt answer her phone. Eventually, she got directions from Bernie Mac (my aunt). Soon after, I was on my way.

  I followed the directions exactly as they were given and as a result, I could not find the place. I drove up and down that busy ass street looking for the destination (whose description contained "You cant miss it.") more times than I want to remember. It was only after I stopped at a random shoe store for help when I realized just how utterly inaccurate Bernie Mac's directions were. Getting to this place (even with *correct* directions) is extremely confusing. Especially since the street had no name and the width of it competed with my car. It was only after I made it through the narrow opening that I saw the two somewhat intimidating, lines of cars that flanked the building from the right. I decided "fuck it, I've spent all of this time trying to find this place so I may as well tough it out and get my ass in line." BAD IDEA.

  So as I was waiting in my line, I started to notice how quickly the line adjacent to me was deteriorating. Unfortunately, by the time I noticed that, there were already 2 other cars foolishly sitting behind me instead of in the considerably shorter line. It was hotter than fucking Mumbai outside and I had my AC on full blast. My car was making weird noises like it was having respiratory problems. Upon closer observation, I realized the tragic truth. My temperature gauge was going up and the car was about to overheat (i.e. stop working). Whats more, as I got closer to the front of the line, I saw another 30 ka-jillion cars that were crammed up in something resembling a demolition derby closest to the front. Between the conditions of both of these "lines" and my car, it was evident by then that I needed to get home NOW. So I was forced to get out of my car and tell the other two cars behind me that I was gonna have to backout of the line. After I made it outta that place, I aggressively took to the streets and drove home. Because the car was running hot, I was forced to turn the heat on so that I could draw that heat away from the engine and return the car closer to it's normal temperature. (If you find yourself in a similar situation, always do that if you dont already.) Although I was probably about to have a stroke, my car cooled off quite quickly. Half way home, I was able to start playing the AC again.

   That didnt make me any less pissed at this entire situation though. I didnt want it to. In fact, I decided not to get something to eat on the way back since I was already starving thus maintaining a healthy mood for severe bitching. When I made it home, I told my mother all of this shit Im telling you now and also made threats to pay ridiculous prices to have any and everything wrong with my car fixed at the Mitsubishi dealership if her boyfriend doesnt hurry and finish doing what needs to be done to this car. After he came home tonight, he told me that he was gonna finish tuning my car tomorrow. He recently gotten hired working some job that is quite demanding on his time. I understand his situation; which is why if he cant handle finishing my car, I'll get someone else to do it faster than you can say "the end".

You know what?

2006-06-23T03:13:30Z

Fuck Jewels.

Originally, I had planned to construct a series of updates in which I would talk (in massive detail) about the situation between my sister, her high school boyfriend, and the dog (a Cocker Spaniel) that he gave her near the end of their relationship. Morale as far as that whole idea is concerned is now completely removed.

Cliff notes

My sister's facially challenged, high top fade/jeri curl hybrid havin boyfriend from high school bought her a dog that she pretty much put off on me and my mom to take care of. It was understandable during her four years in college, but when she decided to move to Atlanta without taking her animal, we had a fucking problem. *Resists urges to unleash a full-scale verbal holocaust* Eventually, in it's old age, the dog began to develop health problems....problems that needed the attention of a veterinarian. Rather than solve these problems the humane way, she decided, with leash in hand, to lead her dog to the porch of the vacant house next door to ours, tie it to the railing and then proceed to call the pound and report a "strange dog" that was presumably abandoned by those heartless bastards who moved out.

Now that that's outta the way...

It seems like the older I get, the more I regret not studying piano seriously. I played a little when I was younger (ALOT younger) and I had gotten to the point that I could play through a few pieces and most of "Fur Elise" with fluidity and grace. (i.e. I was "hard".) It was all so much fun and I believe I may have had an affinity for the instrument. But because I never learned to read sheet music and never had a real piano instructor consistently introducing new things to me, (which in turn would encourage me to want to practice more) I stopped playing completely. Years later, as a result of that carefree childhood decision, I'm back at square one; fantasizing about what could have been.
I want to be a classically trained pianist; to have already obtained a virtuoso status. To be able to express myself to the fullest fucking extent of the law (and beyond) through music. The whole thing is kinda like Herpes . . it comes and goes as it pleases and does with me whatever the fuck it wants. (Answer: HAYL naw..)

Like this time when it happened, I started looking at grand and upright piano price rates and calling around for information on local instructors. . . knowing damn well I cant afford a grand piano. I talked to my mother about it a bit as well. Her response? " I didnt know. You shoulda me told you wanted to start taking piano lessons when you were two years old."

Ima leave that alone. . .

However she did encourage me to go for it if it was something I wanted to do. My brain was completely cluttered as a result of balancing all of these thoughts in my head. I had already started playing guitar a few years ago as a result of separate inspirations but it was now becoming impossible to deny the passionate feelings I also held for the piano. I had some decisions to make.

What to do? Should I just sell my guitars and buy a piano? Even if it means that I'd be probably be 75 years old by the time I could play the stuff I wanna be able to play? Should I just start doing both; even though between work and school I have ~~enough~~ waaay too much shit on my plate as it is?

I thought about it for days, talked to my God, deceased grandmother and "Tricks" from the Player's Club about it and they all told me. . .

"Use whacha got to get whacha want."

Seriously, I have to be realistic here. Between all of the things I'm currently involved in, I just dont have the time (or money) to deal with anymore demanding activities than I already have. By the time I'm someone's grandfather (if that happens) I really would like to be able to say that I've tried everything I wanted to try and accomplished everything I want to accomplish. But honestly, life is much too short for me to be optimistic about that possiblity. The way my world is constructed tells me that the only way I could ever have time to do everything I want to do in my at this point is if a.) I didnt *need* sleep every night to rejuvenate myself . b.) I had come from an extremely wealthy family thus not needing to work. Or c.) If I were already striking enough at the things I do now.

I'm confident that if I were to focus on developing the abilities that I have now instead of trying to be everything at once, I would discover that the things I need to fill these voids I seem to have is, in a way, already contained here within myself. I have to stop taking it all so literal and understand that there is more than one road to accomplishing my goal of self satisfaction. It's much healthier to look at this situation in a positive light. Instead of saying "aww man, it sure does suck that I'll never be able to play through the first movement of piano sonata k.545" what I should be asking myself is "how can I convey that same or similar energy through different media in a way that is also beautifully dynamic and original?

What if I were to do that? As an Illustration major, what if I were to "cover" music through abstract art? Take Volcano's ("Beautiful Seizure") album art for example. I dunno about you, but that sure as hell looks like a "Beautiful Seizure" to me! And whats more, the piece is an extremely accurate summary of their unique sound and even captures the chaotic nature and visual outline of an actual volcano. This is the best example I could find concerning my thoughts on this matter but the ones I want to create will hopefully speak for themselves. Finally, if I ever desire to be responsible for something more literal, I could maybe buy a looping pedal for my guitar and create a volumetric, multifaceted sound inspired by the instrument with the black and white keys that just wont leave me the fuck alone. I wonder what would happen if I put those two ideas together? Hmmm....

"Yall miss Jewels?" (Part 1)

2006-06-16T01:13:08Z

Growing up in the mid 90's, I recall my sister as being a complete bitch.

She was a fast ass senior (cheerleader) in high school running amuck with arrogant kamikaze dickheads whose sole purpose was pussy by any means necessary. I remember Charles most because he was the only one that actually came to our house. He was her most serious boyfriend throughout that time in her life. I thought it was candy. I remember one night, when my mom was working a double shift at her then job, she secretively invited Charles over. I recall them sitting in the front room, watching a movie or something. I was much more interested in my Sega Genesis and crispy new Super Mario bed sheets to give a fuck really.

Sometime long after my bedtime, I awakened in the middle of the night with a full bladder in dire need of relief. I remember hearing weird sounds outside of my door in the darkness of the hallway and den area adjacent to my room. I paid them little mind since my bladder was about to explode. I opened the door, walked out of my room and into peripheral pwnage. As I walked past the hallway and into the bathroom, (from the corner of my eye) I saw what appeared to be a pretzel of human flesh, naked and writhing on the floor.