Gallery of Greats



There's no sense in being subtle.

 My friend Adam turned me on to this delightful and disturbing site of WV's finest criminals.

http://wvjails.info/

I truly don't know if there's anything to add because you can't make this shit up.

Evdiently Missy Ann Morgan is not only "missing" from her
life, but from the jailhouse pic as well. WTF?

create all day



stare at the pretty colors...

 I bought the Bloom, Trope and Air apps for iPhone and I can tell you I'm having a blast with them.

Since Eno's name is on two out of the three and the third is based on his beautiful Music For Airports, I couldn't resist. When you wait to buy an Eno product, shit runs out.

If Eno is someone you have not yet discovered, then my sincerest hope is that you do. If you are of the mindset that hates him because you are a sophisticated muso of the art set, then I suggest you read no further.

Bloom is a really fun app that is tantamount to sheer childish musical play, only the textures and possibilities are very complex. Whatever pattern you touch on the screen, electronic piano sounds appear along with a flow of circles where you touched. If that wasn't cool enough, your music is looped and fades with each reiteration.



wave your fingertips and watch the tracers

 Trope is a little more darker in mood and more complex visually. Lines can be drawn and these go through both visual and musical permutations.

Air is the last, but one that I've haven't explored enough yet.

Applications that do all the work for me? How can that be cool?

You may say that isn't serious enough or that it's too serious. Then my answer is that you're not getting how cool this stuff is or making music is not for you.

Last night, on my way to Kroger, Target AND Wall-de-la Mart, I put on Bloom and made a circular pattern. I listened as the notes repeated and the soft drones of piano-like synth notes gently hovered in the background.

create all day is my philosophy sometimes.

Then, as if I channeled old David Sylvian, a song came to my lips. I wish I was able to record it because it was pretty interesting for an impromptu bit of writing.

Then again, sometimes I think this music is a one time thing, a musical prayer, a self-healing dabble or just to see what comes out without any thought. Sometimes I think that it's an open line to God, but that sounds too self-important. I think it's a way of staying open to your creative life without the world's noisy infringement. To stay honest, to stay real.

All for $ 3.99.

Delete You First

Most of us have some delusions about ourselves,
but some believe the world turns on their existence.

When we revisit an earlier time, particularly one where some negativity is associated, it is important to be objective and not get caught up in anger or feelings of being hurt.

I was talking with someone about a time when I was virtually called a fraud by a young, rapacious journalist who evidently wanted to send me packing in shame because they felt that I wasn't suited for my job. Years later, this person admitted to me that this same journalist had insulted them, in their office, by their agenda-laden questions, which this person dismissed as "bullshit."

If I was as self-possessed as I was when I was younger, this might have hurt, but age has brought me much wisdom. I no longer need to be the center of attention, begging for compliments, and getting depressed when the world didn't seem to be as impressed with me as I was with myself. Goodbye baggage of youth. I rejoice.

This person then told me that they had a theory about who was really behind this. The name that was spoken did not come as a shock to me, rather I felt a bit of pity of what must be an almost unbearable amount of self-loathing. In any case, it's all history.

This brings us to today when I checked my voicemail. If some stranger feels it necessary to whinge on about some point, usually "points" because it is rarely singular, then they have that right.

I also have rights. A right not to be pestered over trivial shit or taken to task for what is a perceived shortcoming on my part. I also have the right not to accept compliments and not to take them seriously either. Of all this chatter, what is real? Almost nothing.

Only the work is real, only our presence is real, only the ones we love and who love us are real. All else is noise and folly. I just don't believe all the posing anymore.

It's called delete and I make use of it constantly.