There's a beautiful world of music out there. A world where the music matters, and the artist doesn't. A world where the feelings matter. Where songwriting is a means, and expression is the art.
A world that Dave Matthews used to be a part of. Sorry American Girl, you're not cutting it. Give me The Dreaming Tree.
I'm taping a live Damien Rice show on cbc right now.
when the best advice is "do what you're afraid of"
I don't want to die alone. I'm no better, no more comfortable than you.
How quiet can I make myself if I need to slip away.
away to think.
think...
That my mind is part of me. That my thoughts are determined by something. That something in my life has chosen my fears. They are just as specifically collected as my hobbies. My fun.
And just as frequently, they should be experienced. Fears are grown in certain areas of my life. Fears that need to be felt. Need to be dealt with. No less valuable then my greatest hopes, these half empty glasses of future need to be investigated. They need to be pushed. Spread across our doors of actions.
Doors that take conviction to open. Doors that take passion to open. Doors that take faith.
Near the end of the night I met a girl. Damn, i'm passive. Seriously.
But fortunately, she wasn't afraid to make it easy for me. She stood in front of me for a while, just looking at me. That was nice. She reminded me where I knew her from. The open mic from two thursdays ago. When a voice wasn't heard, mine or hers, she wouldn't lean in, she'd step in, and the words would be repeated with a full body, top to bottom closeness and pressure. And that was good.
I convinced her that I'd see her next thursday at the open mic. She seemed doubtful, but it's okay. Kinda reminds me of Amber from ottawa. In the way that she doubts my interest more then I do.
I'm just retardedly casual about things of this nature. I'll go sit with her thursday, see where I end up going afterwords. But I doubt that I'll persue anything. I hope it'll be good enough just to make myself available.
This is a pretty honest post i think. It might've been a long time coming.
So i swear, i look for something to hit. Finding nothing. I pick up some socks that have been on the living room floor for a few days. And i go put them in the hamper.
I'm sorry Aine, but sometimes i really just want to hurt. Otherwise, what i'm doing isn't hard enough.
I dont want to die though, so i've got that going for me.
It's an average question. I like the pressure, personally, but i know it's coming from me.
I now think poems can be really good. Mostly for the writer. Expressing thoughts with words is the bottom line. Sometimes thoughts aren't simple enough (or are too simple) to be accurately explained. That's where the vagueness of poetry originated.
I'm learning it doesn't have to be like that. Poems can be worded quite clearly. It's dependant on the subject and the author.
I would love to be skilled at expressing thoughts with words. I'm going to work at it. I recognize my goals and work at them. It's something i do well.
http://meanpoetry.blogspot.com
Sing as well as you can currently sing, dont stretch your voice, use it.
Sing with confidence,
mean what you sing,
and convince other people that they should be listening to you.
And as hard as the last one sounds, it should be exactly what happens when you have the previous two.
48
To work at learning brings more each day.
To work at Way brings less each day,
less and still less
until you're doing nothing yourself.
And when you're doing nothing yourself there's nothing you don't do.
To grasp all beneath heaven, leave it alone.
Leave it alone, that's all,
and nothing in all beneath heaven will elude you.
I just kinda let things happen, instead of trying to make things happen. Or at least that's what i told myself i did before i sat at the computer.
Good times.
Tonight was a night where i felt like i knew what i was doing. And fuck, they wanted it. Can i say that? But they seriously did.
But i'm not about to live my life half assed just cause i'm not certain of whether i am where i should be.
We are met with new truths everyday. I believe it to be dangerous, because of our choice, whether or not to believe the truth we are confronted with. Unfortionately for many, a new truth is a new path, it is an invitation for change. Many people are afraid of change. Hense, people are afraid to realize new truths. It is easier to believe a lie you've heard a thousand times, then a truth you've only heard once. Be open. Look for change. It'll feel good.
I wrote this post because of a book i haven't yet started. I read a single paragraph of the intro, that paragraph is as follows:
What Robert Bly's poetry readings say in effect is, "You must change your life." To hear serious poems and resist all change is worse then a waste of time; it is dangerous. We can remember the warning from Jaco Boehme: "Boehme has a note before one of his books in which he asks the reader not to go further and read the book unless he is willing to make practical changes as a result of the reading. Otherwise, Boehme says, the book will be bad for him..."
Your eyes can hear light. Your ears can hear sound.
What is the sound of one hand clapping?
It's black... I dont know.
Also (very exciting) i think i figured out a good way to get my stuff to the west. I went to sporting intentions to check out how much it is for a good backpack, and while the high price was mildly interesting, i took particular note of the way the backpack went on. Large shoulder straps, and a waste strap. Reminded me of my planting bags. I was thinking i'd mail my bags west, and figure out how to pack my clothes.
So now things look pretty good. I'll load up my planting bags with whatever i need to bring. I'll carry my guitar. I'll buy a new shovel when i get out west (my shovel wasn't cool anyway).
Things i need to bring includes pants, shirts, socks, and unmentionables. I can see a frisbee and/or hacky sack making the trip. A few books are a certainty. What i bring for music is a big question. I might just make up a few more mini disks. That'd save me from bringing hundreds of cds. The big question mark is my tent. It's gonna be the heaviest thing i bring, with the possible exception of the guitar. I think i want to have it. I dont know how much it costs to mail a tent coast to coast, but it might have to be looked into.
But yeah, it's months away, and i'm fucking psyched. Locked and loaded, mother fucker.
Quality numbers, right there.
And i made the correct, yet slightly difficult decision, that i'm not going to drink during ramadan. I mean, muslims aren't supposed to drink at all, so it's the least i can do. I have a little bit of pot on my shelf that i might have to smoke, but that's a different can of worms, at least for this lap of the pony.
Fuck me, no it isn't. I'll wait.
It's neat how typing something like that up makes it painfully obvious what needs to be done.
The interview at pizza hut went well. He asked a few questions here and there, I did well on them, i tend to. And a little later i told him that i knew josh, and he gave a little smile (the only one of the interview) and wrote josh's name on my resume, and circled it. He circled everything that he wrote down on my resume, but still... it was pretty cool. I'm going to be calling him friday, to see what's what.
Also on friday, i'm going to a wedding in halifax. I'm missing the trews on saturday, which is a shame, but i'll live. I get to see family that i haven't seen for a while. It's gonna be really great. And of course, i get to tell each and every one of them why i am not drinking booze, or eating before it's dark out. Possibly more then once.
Cheeeese!
I've got some lyrics at http://onestoodstill.blogspot.com
Just three tunes, but they're nice.
Killing
Gasan instructed his adherents one day: "Those who speak against killing and who desire to spare the lives of all conscious beings are right. It is good to protect even animals and insects. But what about those persons who kill time, what about those who are destroying wealth, and those who destroy political economy? We should not overlook them. Furthermore, what of the one who preaches without enlightenment? He is killing Buddhism."
What about those who are killing time. It's been good for me to realize that if I dont push myself nobody will. Most people in my family (mom not included) would wish upon me a life of comfort, moreso then a life of dreaming. When was it that our society started dreaming of being idle?
I'm not sure why. Could be media. We crave leisure time. We dislike work. Work is something we have to go through, in order to earn leisure. I think we're looking at the clock a little too much in this scenario. As if working nine to five means that leisure time is five till sleep. It's the type of thinking that pulls our eyes to the clock and our hearts to the future.
I've been reading a book that I picked up in a second hand book store in Edson, Alberta called Religion and Leisure in America. I've only read the first chapter of it, titled the problem and meaning of leisure. The problem, in as few words as possible, is that we dont know what leisure is, and we dont know what to do with it. The meaning of leisure was quite an interesting part. Leisure is most commonly described in relation to time, or in relation to work. But taking a step into the past, the Greek word for leisure is "scole". And from this word we got "school". Leisure in the old days was reflective of education, and the learning process.
Our word "leisure" comes from Latin word "licere," which means "to be free". Certainly something more related to our current use of the word.
But combining the two... if we think of leisure as having twin roots of freedom and learning then it's clearly a very important part of yourself to explore. How do you use your leisure time? How many hours a day do you feel free? Do you try to learn during your free time, or has school made learning synonymous with work? Ever find yourself killing time?
A world that Dave Matthews used to be a part of. Sorry American Girl, you're not cutting it. Give me The Dreaming Tree.
I'm taping a live Damien Rice show on cbc right now.
How easy is it to move on
when the best advice is "do what you're afraid of"
I don't want to die alone. I'm no better, no more comfortable than you.
How quiet can I make myself if I need to slip away.
away to think.
think...
That my mind is part of me. That my thoughts are determined by something. That something in my life has chosen my fears. They are just as specifically collected as my hobbies. My fun.
And just as frequently, they should be experienced. Fears are grown in certain areas of my life. Fears that need to be felt. Need to be dealt with. No less valuable then my greatest hopes, these half empty glasses of future need to be investigated. They need to be pushed. Spread across our doors of actions.
Doors that take conviction to open. Doors that take passion to open. Doors that take faith.
Last night I went to classified, I was a little high, so I phased in and out of paying solid attention. While I was in, the show was awesome. Real good flow. I got to dance a little bit, which is all i could've really asked for.
Near the end of the night I met a girl. Damn, i'm passive. Seriously.
But fortunately, she wasn't afraid to make it easy for me. She stood in front of me for a while, just looking at me. That was nice. She reminded me where I knew her from. The open mic from two thursdays ago. When a voice wasn't heard, mine or hers, she wouldn't lean in, she'd step in, and the words would be repeated with a full body, top to bottom closeness and pressure. And that was good.
I convinced her that I'd see her next thursday at the open mic. She seemed doubtful, but it's okay. Kinda reminds me of Amber from ottawa. In the way that she doubts my interest more then I do.
I'm just retardedly casual about things of this nature. I'll go sit with her thursday, see where I end up going afterwords. But I doubt that I'll persue anything. I hope it'll be good enough just to make myself available.
This is a pretty honest post i think. It might've been a long time coming.
And then you're jumping rope, but it's not good enough, cause you know you're not as good as you think you are. And I recall that someone important has recognised how good I think I am.
So i swear, i look for something to hit. Finding nothing. I pick up some socks that have been on the living room floor for a few days. And i go put them in the hamper.
I'm sorry Aine, but sometimes i really just want to hurt. Otherwise, what i'm doing isn't hard enough.
I dont want to die though, so i've got that going for me.
So would you rather be better equiped to deal with the pressure that is on you, or would you rather have less pressure on you?
It's an average question. I like the pressure, personally, but i know it's coming from me.
Holy shit, classified is at myrons tomorrow (saturday). I'm going. 8 dollars. It's gonna be toight.
I like poetry. Didn't used to. Once thought it was damn pointless. I thought the point of poetry was to confuse the reader. I thought a good poem didn't mean anything, but it used pretty words.
I now think poems can be really good. Mostly for the writer. Expressing thoughts with words is the bottom line. Sometimes thoughts aren't simple enough (or are too simple) to be accurately explained. That's where the vagueness of poetry originated.
I'm learning it doesn't have to be like that. Poems can be worded quite clearly. It's dependant on the subject and the author.
I would love to be skilled at expressing thoughts with words. I'm going to work at it. I recognize my goals and work at them. It's something i do well.
http://meanpoetry.blogspot.com
In order to be a good singer you must:
Sing as well as you can currently sing, dont stretch your voice, use it.
Sing with confidence,
mean what you sing,
and convince other people that they should be listening to you.
And as hard as the last one sounds, it should be exactly what happens when you have the previous two.
I went outside and smoked. Then i came back inside, and saw the Tao Te Ching on the counter, and i did the whole Richard Bach thing and opened it up to a random page and i found this.
48
To work at learning brings more each day.
To work at Way brings less each day,
less and still less
until you're doing nothing yourself.
And when you're doing nothing yourself there's nothing you don't do.
To grasp all beneath heaven, leave it alone.
Leave it alone, that's all,
and nothing in all beneath heaven will elude you.
It's nights like these that make me wonder if I'll ever drink again. In that I had a fucking great night.
I just kinda let things happen, instead of trying to make things happen. Or at least that's what i told myself i did before i sat at the computer.
Good times.
Tonight was a night where i felt like i knew what i was doing. And fuck, they wanted it. Can i say that? But they seriously did.
Well, I'm not certain about music school anymore. It's just a doubt that has come up. It's time and it's money, two things that i might have a better use for. I think I'd really enjoy myself working full time somewhere. Sharing a home, or living alone. I'd buy myself a Taylor T5. And i'd work on my art. Would i be better off in a school? I dont know. I know i've done alright on my own.
Of course i'm scared i might be wrong.
But i'm not about to live my life half assed just cause i'm not certain of whether i am where i should be.
Truth is dangerous. New truth, i mean. And i also mean on an individual basis.
We are met with new truths everyday. I believe it to be dangerous, because of our choice, whether or not to believe the truth we are confronted with. Unfortionately for many, a new truth is a new path, it is an invitation for change. Many people are afraid of change. Hense, people are afraid to realize new truths. It is easier to believe a lie you've heard a thousand times, then a truth you've only heard once. Be open. Look for change. It'll feel good.
I wrote this post because of a book i haven't yet started. I read a single paragraph of the intro, that paragraph is as follows:
What Robert Bly's poetry readings say in effect is, "You must change your life." To hear serious poems and resist all change is worse then a waste of time; it is dangerous. We can remember the warning from Jaco Boehme: "Boehme has a note before one of his books in which he asks the reader not to go further and read the book unless he is willing to make practical changes as a result of the reading. Otherwise, Boehme says, the book will be bad for him..."
The sun is loud. Black is quiet. Light is vibrations. We Learned that, people.
Your eyes can hear light. Your ears can hear sound.
What is the sound of one hand clapping?
It's black... I dont know.
Starting at pizza hut on wednesday. Training should be pretty solid for hours. I'll have to see how things go after that.
Also (very exciting) i think i figured out a good way to get my stuff to the west. I went to sporting intentions to check out how much it is for a good backpack, and while the high price was mildly interesting, i took particular note of the way the backpack went on. Large shoulder straps, and a waste strap. Reminded me of my planting bags. I was thinking i'd mail my bags west, and figure out how to pack my clothes.
So now things look pretty good. I'll load up my planting bags with whatever i need to bring. I'll carry my guitar. I'll buy a new shovel when i get out west (my shovel wasn't cool anyway).
Things i need to bring includes pants, shirts, socks, and unmentionables. I can see a frisbee and/or hacky sack making the trip. A few books are a certainty. What i bring for music is a big question. I might just make up a few more mini disks. That'd save me from bringing hundreds of cds. The big question mark is my tent. It's gonna be the heaviest thing i bring, with the possible exception of the guitar. I think i want to have it. I dont know how much it costs to mail a tent coast to coast, but it might have to be looked into.
But yeah, it's months away, and i'm fucking psyched. Locked and loaded, mother fucker.
List item #3. Spend time on the Al Di Meola book every day. It's a guitar workbook of sorts i got in edmonton. I haven't used it as much as i aughta, because it's hard.
Ramadan starts today. I'm pretty excited about it, to be honest. I walked like an animal today. My mom woke me up when she left for work at 20 to 8, cause i had a job interview at 11. So i went for a walk, returned home at 9:00 or so. Played some music. Walked to the interview at 10:15, got home about a half hour ago. That's like 3:30 of walking in the first 5:30 of the day.
Quality numbers, right there.
And i made the correct, yet slightly difficult decision, that i'm not going to drink during ramadan. I mean, muslims aren't supposed to drink at all, so it's the least i can do. I have a little bit of pot on my shelf that i might have to smoke, but that's a different can of worms, at least for this lap of the pony.
Fuck me, no it isn't. I'll wait.
It's neat how typing something like that up makes it painfully obvious what needs to be done.
The interview at pizza hut went well. He asked a few questions here and there, I did well on them, i tend to. And a little later i told him that i knew josh, and he gave a little smile (the only one of the interview) and wrote josh's name on my resume, and circled it. He circled everything that he wrote down on my resume, but still... it was pretty cool. I'm going to be calling him friday, to see what's what.
Also on friday, i'm going to a wedding in halifax. I'm missing the trews on saturday, which is a shame, but i'll live. I get to see family that i haven't seen for a while. It's gonna be really great. And of course, i get to tell each and every one of them why i am not drinking booze, or eating before it's dark out. Possibly more then once.
Cheeeese!
I've got some songs at http://www.purevolume.com/onestoodstill
I've got some lyrics at http://onestoodstill.blogspot.com
Just three tunes, but they're nice.
Killing
Gasan instructed his adherents one day: "Those who speak against killing and who desire to spare the lives of all conscious beings are right. It is good to protect even animals and insects. But what about those persons who kill time, what about those who are destroying wealth, and those who destroy political economy? We should not overlook them. Furthermore, what of the one who preaches without enlightenment? He is killing Buddhism."
What about those who are killing time. It's been good for me to realize that if I dont push myself nobody will. Most people in my family (mom not included) would wish upon me a life of comfort, moreso then a life of dreaming. When was it that our society started dreaming of being idle?
I'm not sure why. Could be media. We crave leisure time. We dislike work. Work is something we have to go through, in order to earn leisure. I think we're looking at the clock a little too much in this scenario. As if working nine to five means that leisure time is five till sleep. It's the type of thinking that pulls our eyes to the clock and our hearts to the future.
I've been reading a book that I picked up in a second hand book store in Edson, Alberta called Religion and Leisure in America. I've only read the first chapter of it, titled the problem and meaning of leisure. The problem, in as few words as possible, is that we dont know what leisure is, and we dont know what to do with it. The meaning of leisure was quite an interesting part. Leisure is most commonly described in relation to time, or in relation to work. But taking a step into the past, the Greek word for leisure is "scole". And from this word we got "school". Leisure in the old days was reflective of education, and the learning process.
Our word "leisure" comes from Latin word "licere," which means "to be free". Certainly something more related to our current use of the word.
But combining the two... if we think of leisure as having twin roots of freedom and learning then it's clearly a very important part of yourself to explore. How do you use your leisure time? How many hours a day do you feel free? Do you try to learn during your free time, or has school made learning synonymous with work? Ever find yourself killing time?