Hi. How Can You Help Me?

September 3, 2013

Schizophrenics are useless to Western Civilization.  I don’t write that in haste either.  I can’t hold a job.  I sit around by myself all day, play piano, make art, play video games, cook, read, eat, sleep, cry.  The Capitalistic thrust of the human human spirit is born from our epistemological tools to manufacture technology (that which makes something more efficient).  Whether it be as profound as the development of language, or as complex as the UPS’s implementation of GPS within a logic pipeline to push a piece of merchandise into someone’s home quicker, people seem to have an obsession with utility.  This obsession is crafting a lens for humanity that refracts only the social / cultural / economic utility of what’s ‘out there’ into the mind (If you disagree with me on this, try to find something meaningful that does not serve some socially relevant function).  With the small percentage of wealth (both financially and socially) that is ‘up for grabs’ in today’s global ecosystem,  people seem to look more into the utility of each individual.  In the case of the Schizophrenic, there is no utility there, hence no respect.  People will look right through you, ignore you and neglect you until you feel like you can walk through walls like a ghost.

Music and the Mundane

May 28, 2013

Music, for the sake of this discussion, can be as simple as a clock ticking or as complex as a Beethoven piece. My argument is that every sound that you might put into the rather loose category I just outlined is as mundane and everyday as walking or drinking a glass of water. I’m not trying to just make a case for Nihilism here. What compels me to write this post, mostly, is that many people seem to differentiate the deliberate flicking of a keychain, or the tapping of a pencil on a desk from the flicks and taps of music found on itunes. I don’t see much of a difference. The complexity and degree of cohesiveness of music is only relevant to the degree the culture it expresses itself from declares it. When my 4 y/o niece sings “You Are My Sunshine”, I genuinely have a difficult time measuring that and making distinctions between a Paul McCartney song, other than a few hundred thousand dollars on equipment and production. I suppose it’s obvious that I’m focused on the will of the musician here more than what’s resonating in the ether. The significance of any music is necessarily contingent upon the walls the sound is reverberating against. To talk about about music in any meaningful way (not just a mere discussion about building processes) I think one must talk about the building process as a social expression (as a type of acoustic signage of attitudes). Generally, with the exception of maybe classical music, this is not a contrived metaphor. It is merely a coincidental appearance from the will to make music. Anyone that makes an utterance from the will to be genuine, will (by coincidence) critique something. It doesn’t even need to remotely resemble the rhythmic pulse of a clock (or anything we might consider “music” for that matter). It is here, at the heart of the will to sing – the emotional core of all (emotional) artistic activities – where concepts like “timbre”, “Rhythm”, “Rhyme”, “harmonics” etc… are finally allowed to dissolve. As profound as that might seem, it is a regular human activity.

My music

June 20, 2011

Here’s a link to some music I make with a trio in my apartment.  I’m on piano.


My Paintings

October 21, 2010


We can know “why”.  Knowing “why”, though, suggests Believing in “why”.  I’m not talking about believing in the reasons for an expressive act, but rather believing in “why” itself.  Asking why is calling upon a greater power to explain expressive actions.  Call it whatever you want, but when I spill a cup of coffee on the floor, I certaintly don’t ask the cup, the coffee, or the floor why that happened.  I ask Why.  The “cup”, “coffee” and “floor”, as I understand them through deductive and reductive essentialist concepts revised throughout history, might be used to answer why.  But I would be answering only that which can be answered.  The actual is a mystery.  The actual seems to penetrate the body with physical power and little else.  Culture has destroyed reality.   It’s a necessary adaptation, so I’m not too angry about it.  All is words.  The world is interpreted the way a novel is.  The actual world is lost in a “life or death” interpretation.  Categories become created from criteria.  New parameters are created and the interpreted world opens up into more complexity as each parameter is employed.  People ontologize when they decide to wake up in the morning.

I don’t understand the world.  I understand understanding OF the world.  My body feels.

Maybe, if you listen to this collision of genre’s in this song I made and ask “why”, you’ll understand that you’re asking a god to answer your question.  You’re praying to “why” if you take up that task.  The music becomes disintegrated into a prayer of reasons, rather than a celebration of life.  (not that it’s a good song.  I’m just using this time to point something very simple out to anyone who reads this.)


Good Habits


February 28, 2009

Here are a couple songs I made.

The one called, Rynosaurous Rex, I made with a friend of mine.  He layed down the beat, and I put in the rest.

The other one, Catfish Johnson, I made with my midi keyboard and a drum sample from the dead. 

Thanks for listening.

Catfish Johnson

Rynosaurous Rex

The Mp3 Player is kind of screwy, so you may have to download them.

The Surreal Undermining the Real

“[The trumpet] sounds human. It sounds like a voice. Sometimes I can get it to sound like a… another voice.” – Miles Davis (60 Minutes Interview)

Some of you might find this five part youtube series of Miles playing live with Wayne Shorter, Jack De Johnette, Chick Corea and Dave Holland fairly interesting. I particularly like the exchanges between Chick (on Keys) and Miles, beginning about halfway through 3 of 6. They are speaking to each other in notes, but mostly phrases. The conversations begin with an exchange of some notes, maybe roughly equivilant to a greeting – meeting each other in a harmony, where the mutual compassion for one another is asking “where are you?”, rather than “how are you?” The location of Chick and Miles in the soundscape is a compassionate, humble questioning. The development of conversation becomes a transcendence of Miles from himself, and Chick from himself, where these spatial entities become distinct from the person Blowing, or tapping out the notes. It is “another voice”, that is not Miles’ nor Chick’s, but an evolving conversation spawing from the asking of “where are you?” to the exchange of phrases that develop into a textural, colorful, spatial conversation of the textural, colorful, spatial play itself. They leave thier bodies, not to enter the others body, but to enter the dissonances and resonances of their creative soundscape, where the self, nor the body can seem to reach the complexity of the creative soundscape. In other words, it could be said that their bodies of experience are transformed entirely into sound (texture, color, line, space). It reaches heights of soundplay where even the body is forgotten. It reminds me of a quote by Einstein where he writes, “To really live, is to live outside of oneself.” For Miles, I think, living was living outside of his body, into the body of sound.

In these recordings, there is something surreal going on that is more real than the verbal interactions of talking. The surreal displaces the real into dreamlike status. The alternate undermines the primary, where the roles are exchanged.


January 22, 2009

More music from my friend and I.


January 16, 2009

Here’s another song I made.

Sorry about the poor sound quality.

more of it       (music I made with a drum loop, and a midi keyboard)