Lome Today Music Creativity Vlog 09 21 2023 Setting Attack Hyenas Loose In Your Crescent Nomial Head
aka "things to keep my and maybe your mind off common bullsheeet" for at least a few, It's Lome Today [title in working]
I'll get a green screen and do a news backdrop just don't color it sea-foam.
here are the topics of today's meeting -pot pies have no time of place here for this -song lyrics being short, non-tangled and sweet (Except for Elvis Costello's "When I Was Cruel" full length.
-Chopping down Shadow Swoon Hiss the Dead Man and re-releasing it
-You shouldn't play music for people who want you dead
-Re-releasing It's Raining Boneclad Gizmos. Possibly re-recording "Shove your Cellphone up your @*%hole to "Shove your SmartPhone Up Your Arzle"
-Social Media immediacy and constance of information sharing takes away an old special wonderment of creators or creative types.
-Recording with a 1990s desktop mic for past releases (And D3Th 53Nt3NCE's revered discography.)
-central new yorkers have rabies of the brain -Play music to sticks and trees and logs and frogs and owls and foxes
-Outro song "Blue Mockingbird" early piece of another song vault file
thanks. Instead of buying frappacino starbucks roasted bloat wad blend nonrefillable vomitjuice there is a patreon with downloads patreon.com/lomemarsupial and I'll get 232 hard drives or so with each 890 new subscribers (right now I am at almost 1)
This blogger is an antique now. This is a way of dusting it off.
I am not considered an antique yet!! There is still 400 more years to go for that.
Trying to catch up with past recordings and re-spruce the image-additive to lots of them.
Another grab+go setup though. To have people and sets and I could come up with scripts, and record things then! Well that would be...
but this was with footage-snabbing. An Electric Lines song.
Amp showed up in the mail. But it was either damaged or---just bad quality?? I don't know. It should have sounded crystal clear. No to that!
Oh well. Studio sound someday. In the next few months if I can pull that off, who knows. Lots and lots of sound-atmospheres of 'feelings' that would like to've be gotten at.
Just have the feeling in mind and construct it from that basis.
You find out what you are doing after it is completed, that way, most of the time.
Its been all these years and I just started even figuring to florp around with buffer settings and changing those things.
Audio interface, soon? I think I can run an amp through an interface.
Or playing feathers and rulers against flower pots and dutch shoes.
2019: The year there is a faculty to move through the previous galactic uproars and upheavel and put wings onto the ways which we face planetary and consciousness change-agents.
I'm tired, it's 5am, that probably didn't come out too smooth, but you know what I mean.
This is some severed head from the unfinished song project channel.
I am, for whatever reason, and who knows why, creating videos for songs that I am either going to rework very much so or scrap entirely.
And this video was done on a spare computer that runs 2BG of ram, so I can make all sorts of excuses for this and that, but instead,I will say,
Wild Bill Hiccup did not shoot a man because he was some kind of ninny. He did it because he was hungry! And didn't want any more suckers getting in his way trying to bug him while he was wanting booze and trying to get hiccup drunk.
And Arnold Palmer, why, that man that died, when he swung, why, he swung and said "By damn, I'm going to try to get this golf ball onto the green.. no, I'm going to make it happen, and before I die, I will have mixed tea beverages stocked to the brim in supermarkets throughout the country."
Well fine, so be it that is the attitude I approach with this Inquisition. Ideally though it would be fine to do a video for "Somebody's Not wearing any shoes" and also Bride of the East, which are finished songs already and although already incredibly ancient, of course!, I feel would be good to try to get an editing groove with.. when a more proper computer is set back up.
That's about all. It was nice out here today, and it really adds some zest to perspective. Deer shitting everywhere, being innocent naturites.
7.7.12
We accidentally walked under the scope of the freedom tower. We were
trying to get somewhere else and accidentally walked into this mall of
marble. Luckily the mirrors created a nice effect as I snagged a
photograph of a passing stranger.
7.7.12
The 'door' closed where the aforementioned stranger had stood (and multiplied and reduced in some of the video sequence.)
7.7.12
A beauty supply advertisement still in that city mall.
before
After.
Trees outside of Manhatten apartments. Cropped and
mirrored to create the introduction of the 1st song.
Yes ther'r trees in the city every here'n'there.
A cityscape as seen from the farie coming back from Governor's Island.
9.16.12
8.23.12
8.12.11
8.12.11
5.3.12
5.3.12
8.9.12
7.22.12
There are a lot more but can you blame me for not adding them right now when I have no secretary or maintenance team. I'm already warring off a face-zit & running an illegal gambling operation where I have to keep an eye on 7,221 miniature zebras on a hotwheels slope that serves as a racetrack.*
*This may or may not be a joke. You decide. Imagine the waste of effort and work hours hiring an investigation team to break open the case of a miniature Zebra gambling operation.
This video was put together 09/18/2012*
Material by Lome Menstrual
01. GrehOme [0:01-1:05]
02. IDentity [1:05-4:21]
03. (not yet named)[4:21-8:46]
Photos/Video:Ithaca,Ny/Nyc
*Time measurement recorded in Gregorian system & may be completely inaccurate as opposed to other time systems.
It was a tuesday, one week exact after the 11th anniversary of Emegency-Day.
An intent stirred up. Being able to sit down and have images being pulled up at such a speed was almost unbelievable as the only difficulty that came about was being able to catch up,physically, with the muse.. So that I did not slow down too far behind from sensations being translated to something 'material.' I'd become used to that feeling in a sense where translating or being with a sort of flow with images coming outward but the extent of this 'visitation' from the Muse that Tuesday night was heavy,heavy,heavy.
Needs of hydration or food or even a break kept calling but drinking or eating or slowing down wouldn't be allowed because the motion, if interrupted, would have been insulted and vacate.
I think there's years worth of video and image to put together
and transfer pieces.
So everything can be comprised of a personal experience or long walk where photographs were melded into available stock.In arts you don't necessarily have to be confined to an employment deadline and a passion or urge to complete something almost always or indefinitely surpasses any 9-5 series of hours. If anything the amount of hours that can take place includes the drive to-and-back, all included regular lunch hours and each second and minute that would be listening to that lady Jan in the elevator who you think just talk talk talk talk talk talk talks but you would find it rude to tell her otherwise so you just stand there in the elevator with a hidden cringe about to burst and keep on listening.
A buildup was being released because before that process there was a momentous weight of some of the most pitiful feelings of loathing and disaster about being 'here.' It's like where that collective feeling enters your bloodstream and all of those woes or sufferings of a global conscience trade places with your own being right there right that very second.
As soon as the process [of putting pieces of the video together] began, though, it was like a door or window opened up and sucked those feelings [of discontent] to a different air. The concentration was undivided.
Some pheromone scent I never sensed before was coming from me.. I felt like some extinct animal from some lost jungle land had entered my ears and into my tear ducts and then exited out from my pores as sweat.
The room was filled with that space being created by an uncut intent, completely reversing those awful sensations of alienation. It was a calling to form an image and felt moreso natural and as a given.
I remember the first two images reminding me of faces/creatures you might see when staring in to wood grains when in the forest. Also, the lime green opening image at about 3 seconds seemed like the molecules &/or innards of some bacterial life. I'm not sure how to explain it entirely but it has a feeling,to me, of being at the level of looking at what even the most sensitive microscope would be able to pick up on and staring at that life form from the range at being at it's 'feet' (can bacteria afford Doc Martins?).. with roots/appendages protruding out at either side from the base to the head. That is what is so fun about creating the mirrored images: the practice of interpreting the imagination from where it is like gazing up at clouds once again: A practice that doesn't have to be given up from developing from 'child' into 'adult.'
The three songs were pretty much chosen at random, each from a separate project. The first, GrehOme, being from some Nova Scota pop sensation calling themselves Lemontrees
They have been known to have only released one album: Dance Of The Liquid Soap Eaters. Oddly enough it was released the same month and year of some box-set that I had finally finished and released. They're the only band to have had a decapitated deer-head target as the electric bass player. There were the Kettlers, however, a Mississippi garage band, who had a decapitated deer-head who was a fuhhhnominal but underrated keyboardist.
IDentity
The Idea, the ID, the character, the entities
Moving to encouragement
walking away from town and falling into the Earth
moving away from discouragement of ideas that conflict with the general and cozy patterns.
It's still ghetto, picking 'orchestra drums' from a casio.. hoping the transfer will match up, sometimes it doesnt, with the guitar laying I am adding it over. If anyone ever wants a personal complaint about editing wav files and matching up drums or other layers that occasional lag I will type a lengthy critique otherwise I wouldn't imagine it being joyful to read about.
It's probably not finished quite completely but it was grabbed and chosen and complimented some of the images.
I walked away from town and leapt over the guard rail and walked underneath the bridge. The further up that stream I had went the more vivid my thoughts and feelings of assurance had grown. Some anxious reflection of the many moods grouped together in the town area made me feel almost guilty for feeling content at first when I was there.. because that content was facing off with a heavy feeling or guess at a feeling that everyone around was pretty much miserable or loathing the spaces they were coming from or entering in to. I keep forgetting or purposely forgetting about what it means to be 'good' at music. Everything seems to be able to hatch out of itself and every once in a while dreams to be an exact contrast from which it came.
Forgiveness seems like a long lost action that both challenges and counters the steady and thick requirements of immediate judgement and ignorances that stand atop the wall of consumer economies.
To avoid forgiving others immediately acts in a way that avoids judgement in the first place. And to be able to understandably forgive the self seems to create a more fluent and relaxed visitation to personal history. In any given case just about everyone including myself who may have grown up receiving a comparatively industrialized education can have a self-forgiveness for being an ignorant bastard. While all of that is true if you are open to believing it, it may,too, be impossibly wrong if you do not believe it. Anyway at the moment I feel dearly apologetic towards any poor soul in who would take advice from me, but I forgive that person and myself, both, for ever allowing such a situation.
The third and final song "Damn if I'm going to name this song on the fly" is the last 1/3rd of a 9 minute stretch. I'm sure more [instruments] will be added to it when it is 'ready for the conveyer belt of the oh-so awaited for Lerm -whatsitsname-album' but hopefully more videos will be put outwards to fill up a DVD and the two latter songs of this video will have happy homes in another boxed set of music.
Actually, here: Be courteous, even to assholes. The more courteous you are to an asshole the more of an asshole that person becomes if they choose not to take your direct action of niceness as something to change their pace from.
Image-wise, this character allowed itself to become present in this and other videos. I have my own idea and regards to the meaning of the character.. masked and almost phantasmic..but to cut in to a viewers interpretation of that initial and natural presentatiomay have grown up receiving a comparatively industrialized education can have a self-forgiveness for being an ignorant bastard. While all of that is true if you are open to believing it, it may,too, be impossibly wrong if you do not believe it. Anyway at the moment I feel dearly apologetic towards any poor soul in who would take advice from me, but I forgive that person and myself, both, for ever allowing such a situation.
The third and final song "Damn if I'm going to name this song on the fly" is the last 1/3rd of a 9 minute stretch. I'm sure more [instruments] will be added to it when it is 'ready for the conveyer belt of the oh-so awaited for Lerm -whatsitsname-album' but hopefully more videos will be put outwards to fill up a DVD and the two latter songs of this video will have happy homes in another boxed set of music.
Actually, here: Be courteous, even to assholes. The more courteous you are to an asshole the more of an asshole that person becomes if they choose not to take your direct action of niceness as something to change their pace from.
Image-wise, this character allowed itself to become present in this and other videos. I have my own idea and regards to the meaning of the character.. masked and almost phantasmic..but to cut in to a viewers interpretation of that initial and natural presentation to develop their own meaning would actually subtract. The gaining of effects from such a minimal approach using merely magazine cut outs from beauty ads and model/movie face pages ushers an enjoyment to see that with a generous amount of lighting the character portrayal actually succeeds.
One of the faces was cut out and stored in a cardboard envelope for almost four years. Few photos were celebrated with the mask but I recently brought it out when regarded with an interest on the topic of invocation and a leaning of enjoyment towards plays and spirit-creatures.
Snippets of it run across the 'Liquid Floor Love' video and the Chameleon Shelter trailer. One of the masks suffered a very quick fate of face sweat which blurred the ink and ruffled the sides.. So I give it an ode-to-passing.
Moment of admittance: If cows were to lay eggs could you 'crack open a hamburger?'
Some song called Lucinda I forgot about. From 09/10/2011. Pretty dorky but fun
A Morsel of the Chameleon!!
Absolute original labors of self-combobulated tightly squeezed sound and atmosphere births plus a few movie samples and the guest accompaniment of Soil Finn. A spirit unwiring cartoon ear ritual within a playful excavation of the intolerable to the cozy.
Comedy/rebirth/chance/ghetto appliances/Soul-Force Rising/
Using a toaster as a percussion instrument/The reflections of a Hermit lifestyle
Like a dyke on a plane it could flood in the sky at any minute.
After calling in beings of balance and beauty for guidance on an insightful day:
The story of the bat and the facing of the 'other half' peered deep this day
(How have thee refrained from smashing thy computer I ask! How have thee garnered thy patience to not rip sockets from thee wall and punt Windows 90 year old OS from a tall building!! Okay maybe some soothing..)
A cut snippet of the front and back of Soil Finn and I near the Recluse Stream playing music between pulling off ticks as more Hawks Vultures and Crowes dance in the skies. Fish, too.
Soil Finn & I were up to flowing again and I recorded more as usual. These songs are actually from a different day with different music (03-16-2012 two days before the tree-climbing.) Find a fitting environment for your framework. In this case, ours was this seat of a wood-paw near fisherpeople, fish-people and perfectly flat shore stones.
Then there was the power-ballad "Glub-Glub Glub (Serenading the Fish)" We actually did help somebody serenade a fish before when playing music in West Virginia. No, that's not like it sounds.. A fisher-person (or fish person) was in the stream of a public park while we were playing music and after he caught a fish he told us that it was our playing that allured the fish unto the hook. But I already wrote about that, or even already wrote about writing about that one. More hooks.
In the meantime here is a beaver. Actually, in the pleasant time, here is a beaver:
and one of these
I would have enjoyed to have fixed the imagery up a bit more but I corrupted the system. (There,I admit it: I corrupted the system, it was me. It wasn't even on purpose, it just happened >naturally<.) The audio will be a part of one of these sets that I keep hinting about. If I could make another Paige's Dragonfly I'd be ecstatically happy but this equipment is all literally on bare minimum. BUT this is what could pull through despite that and whatever proper knowledge of editing that is castrated from my (im)proper approach.
03/14/2012. Okay, 14,16,(I'm going to strike this computer, I swear!ahem,sorry) and the 18th. I hadn't realized the days were so close together when all of this happened. This materialized from the 14th around when the EEAEAE tuning started to strike my fancy.
Firstly, I really did just want to inquire about this though:
We call this camikaze-enkouragement.
"Die in your own filth, artboy!!! The muse of the sou/il needs parachute pants and toy-story references! Pills'up'Mede!!" (Source of light free me from this chastised realm of boxes in boxes!! Free souls without identification. Human(e) Being! Manifest higher speeds of abundance, kept down by material banter no longer says 'm'ya!)
Avoid ticks. Sing about ticks.
Call upon the Old ones to guide your ways
Sso far:
Each copy will be FREE like YOU ARE.
(If by free, you mean donations accepted and providing shipping/stamp costs covered.)
Hand drawn artwork with each version,
Plus 'el presidente' the album guardian in whom protects all jewel cases.
Here are some examples of custom sketches that are ready to send out to some friends when this is finally finished:
Portrait of Soil Finn
Thanks for the paper tablet 'Lana, shall use these perfectly-sized pages for each CD case.
Each will be hand-done until I get tired of custom drawing album sleeves.
But despite that I will be giving away completed pieces like these, too (16X20 canvas.)
and ruin someone's day with a naked Hazel-Island self-portrait
Because they do no good sitting around. There is no use of things going unseen of being stacked away, so shed all things for offering. If others can appreciate such then so be it! Just cover shipping or allow a kindly gesture to the accumulation of ability for more to spread.
(Note to self: Create a gallery of each new personalized album art as they are sent out..maybe.)
If I told you there will be many surprises then it wouldn't be a surprise!! I am hesitant to not already post all available for free right now but a bit more work needs to go into it and I want a lot of special visuals and keys placed through the physical copies. (Or lots of extra copies laying around ready to throw into a lake or not?)
Mostly likely this will be released on a DVD disc with each album and it's set of visuals in place.
The moment, the sacrifice of life-experiences to create.
The risk&sentiment of putting something out to the consensual world but to hold affirmation to what you
could create from that experience of heart and lesson. It is easy to be snide or criticize or
bitch but to use what little you have available and create a space puts an abundant path where
scarcity once resided.
I suppose that is a means of saying that hopefully where 'talent' or proper approach may be lacking
perhaps a personal touch could replace that (and it does.)
At the end of the day, there is a scale: hesitation or pride. Conquer self-doubt.
Any force that needs to bring you down or hold you from being whole seems in itself to be imbalanced and unfulfilled of it's potential.Buy your peace medallions it only adds to the suffering! Shed identification or not, it's fine.
Other:
These are some mighty fine ducks
Wait, We're not done yet, you and I
Mauling List Fore
(The two songs before the Chameleon Morsel) Download link coming soon (maybe) for all three mp3s.
Inhale Every Rubber Skin Bat Birth 03/29/2012
5:40 9.09 MB 224kbps
:01 to :51 ?????????(Currently unnamed) 03/24/2012
:51 to 2:18 Rebirth Of An Acorn Hat Snapper(With Soil Finn performing Rhythm guitar) 03/27/2012
2:38 to 3:22 Rubber Skin Bat Boy 03/26/2012
3:39 to 5:36 Inhale me in your skin (Every Cage Broke Open) 03/27/2012
Priestess rise & light is born!
5:36 to 5:40 Planets come and go in perception
Dance Like A Human(e) 03/29/2012
6:20 10.1 MB 224kbps
:01 to 1:44 Dance Like A Human (With Soil Finn Percussion) 03/27/2012
1:44 to 2:38 ?????????(Currently unnamed) 03/24/2012
2:38 to 3:45 Dance Like a Human/?????
3:45 to 4:35 Granted to Many Lives (Current title) 03/26/2012
4:35 to ???? (Currently unnamed) 03/24/2012
4:44 to 5:21 Dance Like A Human
5:21 to 6:20 Granted To Many Lives
"Bamble Bosckle Bibbivo, Spipple." "Don't tell me things like that, not now." The truck window then rolled up and the person who introduced himself as 'Blarghh I'm Crow' drove off not particularly in what anybody would identify as a straight line.
Actually that is far from what occurred but it is more interesting. Basically it was just, out of and in the space of nowhere which is what we refer to land left untouched and full of places where growth can occur; 'nowhere.' The truck stopped. There was a beer in his front cup holder immediately identifiable. He said some things that were questionably assholish but the persona could have been met from mere intoxication so I just raised my eyebrow. Get along to get along, but also: take no guff from the smell of a skunk weed militant.
This was some sort of invasive species I detect because not more than three minutes later as I continued to walk I saw and heard another nearly identical truck stop by me only this time it was blue rather than red. "Spipple, Bamble Bosckle Bibbivo. " "Excuse me?" I raised an eyebrow.
"You're telling that story all wrong."
"Oh, you think so.. Well why don't you go and tell it then, Mr Correct."
"Okay, Start here: He didn't say 'Spipple, Bamble, Bosckle, Bibbivo,' He said
'Spivvity Spivvity Babambo Bingo' and the second truck was green."
"Yeah in your world maybe... But we can both agree that it was getting rather questionable, how these potato-shaped people with beer in their front dash and strange spatterings kept driving by, right?"
"Hell yes it was eerie but lucky for the interested we come to find out that it was just some made up musing in a blog post."
"Oh, okay great. So in argubility of either laziness or the suggestion for the reader to muse the continuation of events or to just fracture it all together we just allow the story to cease anyway, right?"
"Right."
First, you wouldn't consider a ferret in sneakers and a hat to hold a proper argument like that in any regards but if you did, in fact, find yourself present as a ferret recites his own account of a potato-like man reciting a rendition of "Spivvity Spivvity Babambo Bingo" from the window side of a truck it would definitely be something to take excitement upon rather than to jeer.
So turning a long walk into an amusing story where photographs serve as the backbone will take over from here.
These are rather quickly approached photographs; They're simple and rushed through. Breaking away from, (even if for only several hours) cabin fever shock was delightful.
If you would rather read about Phil Donahue instead, now is your time to do so. Only you can arm yourself with whatever information you think is necessary for your sole travel (ergh.. soul travel?) If anybody asks you how many Emmy's that Mr Donahue has received in his lifetime, you will be at a confident and proud advantage to tell that person "Nine. He has won Nine Emmys." The void we may fill with information can be fed with talk show trivia. I will however be comparing the head of Tony Orlando to a rock formation very shortly, though.
Beavers>>Way Right. Somebody's jeans in the stream. << Way North.
Foibles were filled up into one pot and burnt until there was no hot water left and in a basket there were forgotten aspirations left by baby boomers. But they weren't babies and they certainly weren't booming any more. Some of them wandered off to become deadbeats and some of them ranked high to become dead beats. The rest didn't care or mind that children weren't being struck with strict punishment for beginning sentences with 'But' as long as the ass-end still remained in the rear.
Fossil Brain Pt II. Highway=Behind the camera lense. Fate=A long trust jump to the banks.
Asked what he wanted to be, young Siggy thought hard and responded in such a determined claim that he shifted his pointer finger to the skies if only the classroom ceiling weren't between the way.
He said "I want to be in a lifetime where I'm not asked a godamn fucking question where I decide what opportune permanent menial task I am going to perform while I still have puberty and tonka trucks yet to get through!"
"It's a..umm.. Well let me put it like this. It's a docking station between dreams. There's this weird funnel where the dreams squish and splatter down.." Obviously upset with her struggle to explain it, she stood up and stretched her arms, cracked her knuckles.. "Okay: Each day could be as fresh and re-shapable as a dream, but like some whirlpool that gets a leaf caught, we form this repeating motion where the expectation to limit done messes up that steadiness."
"Wait.." Bosco intervened.. "Are we talking Maple leaves or oak leaves here?"
"Doesn't matter, Bosco.. Damnit, we should've just gone with that Donahue route instead."
"What?"
"Nevermind."
<<40 miles that way:Airport near bird sanctuary. ^9Miles up:Civil war graves, rusty barbed fence, Salamanders in summer.
If you zoom in you'll notice this looks just like the face of Putin.
Here:
Check it out for yourself, the resemblance is uncanny.
How much we take seriously tugs at the opportunity and bad joke to know what we can leave jokingly. Southwest:Telephone poles and mailboxes with little ducks on them.
And when you turn your head a little to the side.. No, not that way, the other way.. Yes, that way.. Yes, it is Rikki Lake. Amazing.
There are old posted signs in the lost lands of "wheren'd'fook" and where some of the names have faded you can write "Creature of the Black Lagoon" or "Bigfoot." Taping werewolf masks to trees is probably a bit harsh, though, maybe.
Here is the legendary Tony Orlando stone. No more need be said.
This photo actually resembles Michael Jordan. Jumpman!
15 minutes backward:Turtle pond, Coyotes at night, Pile of 40 tires. 50 minutes forward: Old telephone booth buried under dirt but it's harder to notice nowadays.
Stretch your tendons before walking up that hill to the right because it strains you like spaghetti (hah hah hah) if you do not.
If the subject was being what you want to be, we can trace the opposite of what we see as a guise. The disillusionment of the 'sturdy' platform starts to dismantle when it grows clear that one of the most respected or sought after 'fancies' that makes our hearts throb and wallets pucker is to be an actor. The idea is that being an actor is the biggest accomplishment or who you want to be with the most is obviously well known.
But an actor is somebody who pretends to be somebody else.
For the most part, we strive after becoming, or sleeping with somebody who is constantly someone else.
Who decided the roles is another 'thing' but that's like arguing 98s over 86s.
Is 'reach for the sky' a plea for horror, dismay and surrender or hope, aspiration and solitude?
I'm not sure. Reach for the sky, m.f.!
We go up for quit a ways. A fat horse would become skinny if we relied on horse and buggy. Or it would die and you'd plummet backwards quickening and quickening.
Brooke Shields. Hey, they weren't seen in the same place at once!
500 feet further: More hill. Chipmunk runs up a tree. Frog burps but 'can't hear it.
Peter Rabbit is waiting for the gardening season. Citizens ass is waiting for the end of tax season. Elmer Fudd is waiting for the gardening season. NYers are waiting for the red lights. Dock Yawner, the ski-masked antagonist, has a wrist watch waiting to be smashed.
Hills, pitch black, bicycle some years worth of nights ago.
Textures
Dogs yalping along the way.
Woodpeckers are out. The same family of them as seen in "Paige" travel tree to tree. There's a quite huge one that is very photo loathing.
Turn a silo into an apartment or a trumpet.
Squint and turn pine branches into cacti.
Poad. Doap. Opad. Dopa. Pado.
"When I steer up I want to be an apple tree so in summer shine bird beaks'll scratch my little minds."
Reach for the sky.
Kiy whole on the skye.
Edit of the image directly above.
Live, wind, from different circuits.
**
*
The PC sounded and vibrated like a runaway washer/dryer appliance down interstate 81 after the cartoon
character Jeffrey the Wily infamously smashed up pieces of the roadway with a sledgehammer in early AM.
Despite those circumstances, trying to work on a 'relaxing' piece of music and video while only
seeing fragments of frame rates during it's construction is in itself a strenuous practice of the nerves,
much like trying to force watermelons through a coin slot and then trying to speak coherently through
the crackled phone system nearby a bowling alley where the bowling pins are filled with nitroglycerin.
Now I'm not exactly sure how I feel about it. 'Gave it the most I could as for the circumstances of
this fridge with a viewing screen and 512 MB of Ram (oww.)
Fortunately all the teeth-gritting will be propelled into the non-music of the MASS CONFUSION
(re-actionary) video. (Re-Action as in taking all of the frustration/alienation of a consumer society
and pointing it into one block of creation.) 'Not exactly healthy to 're-act' (Dillute) rather than act
(Create/grow) but neurotic muck builds otherwise, much like how Jeffrey the Wily goes frothing mad and
attacks the highway as a means of release.
The, ummm, song is from early 2011. The video pieces are remnants of what weren't used around the time
of putting together Paige's Dragonfly. This all seems vastly boring to assume anyone would want to read
about. Who the hell knows what they're doing? Those that do not plan.
** These images from "a walk" have been added to the "Part Four" gallery.
