I played for about a half hour at baba's on monday night. A few glasses of sweet o melted the anxiety away and i feel i played to the extent of my ability. Happy feelings.
Today is halloween. I'm aiming to look like a girl, and i think it should be a good time.
I like iGoogle. My customizable google homepage has a daily einstein quote, a daily confucious quote, a logic/math puzzle, local weather, daily piece of art, buddha thought of the day, and my gmail inbox. Take the world and make it yours again.
May peace and peace and peace be everywhere.
simon
On friday i got picked up on the trans canada a little ways from my house and taken right to the bridge. The guy was driving a fairly old vehicle, with a spedometer that read in miles. There were assorted mugs and vases jingling around where my feet were. There was one mug on the dash, in a homemade steel cupholder.
My driver was an artist. He'd been working in pottery for 30 odd years, and more recently has gotten into metal works. He told me a couple interesting stories about his life, including one time he stole a jar of uranium from his school and went through the lengthy process to get rid of it, eventually leading him to UNB where he gave it to a very happy scientist.
I waited no more than ten minutes at the foot of the bridge, before a bright red truck pulled in from the opposite direction. He mentioned that he used to do a bit of hitchhiking in his day, so that's what probably made him turn around.
He was from rustico, heading to sackville. I told him that my mom used to teach at north rustico. As it turns out, my mom was his son's favorite teacher. And his neice is Denée, who rented out a room in my house last year. Most of the conversation was about coincedences, and how he met such 'n such from such 'n such while he was in such 'n such. Met someone from saskatchewan in thailand who'd rented out his family's cabin in rustico in the summer of '93. Neat!
So i got out in Aulac.
After a reasonably short longest wait period of forty minutes or so, i got picked up by a quebecois man who was heading to newfoundland to work with oil. I'm not sure if there's oil fields or just sea based deals, but that was his story. He'd been in calgary working oil before, and he was on his way to a new job. I was the third hitchhiker that he'd picked up that day.
He might've seen me yawn, or rest my chin in my hand, cause he told me that if i wanted to sleep, then i could. I quickly defended my status, saying i was a little tired, but i'd be fine.
I woke up as he pulled to the side of the road outside truro.
I hitched as soon as i had walked past the exit, but soon found myself walking over a bridge, and another area with little to no pull off space. I assumed I'd have to walk a few kilometres until a car could safely pull over, but some dude in an suv pulled over just ahead of me, dispite complete lack of a thumb. He asked if i needed a ride, and told me that he was heading to halifax. Cool.
Halifax was pretty sweet. A couple of shows. Some VIP treatment (people don't charge you admition when you look this good). And topping the weekend was some glorious conversation/catching up with Aine O'Hizzle. Everything is going to be alright... as soon as rich people start giving cool people houses. The pigs are takin' off.
Yesterday i hitched my way into wolfville with hopes of getting in touch with scott montgomery. It's easy to forget that some people aren't physically dependant on the internet.
Long story shortened: I saw a sign for an open mic. I went and played it, i thought i did well, i spoke to a retired university prof and he invited me to stay at his house. Gave me a cot, a thin sleeping bag and a pillow. In the morning i had oatmeal and tea with the man, and had my first shower in days. It felt super good.
I've spent most of today walking around with a bass guitar strapped on. In and out of stores.
----
OOOh.
I've taken up the visual arts. I think it might stick.
Got some paints last week. A cheap pack of acrylic paints, a handful of brushes, and a pad of paper. It's a very soothing activity.
And then in halifax i got my hands on a couple of professional drawing pencils. Two blacks, a brown and a different brown. And i got a coiled sketch book.
I've drawn four pictures. I have temporarily given up on drawing things accurately (stick men have made appearances in my last two pictures). What i am trying to do is communicate ideas with my drawings. Ideas like, "bigger is better", "two heads are better than one", and "the devil and god are raging inside me" except none of those. Probably things a little less 'putintowordable'.
Visual Arts!! Wowabunga!
simon
I'm paying 13 cents a minute for this internet. Bosh!
Can a person be tricked into a deeper understanding? If something is attention grabbing on the surface but has a deep rooted truth, will that truth dig deep so long as the individual is in contact with the art? It's a nice ideal.
The above quote came through on the most successful random page flip in recent memory. Yesterday i read an article in new york magazine (online) titled "Has Money Ruined Art." Rex Murphy's program on CBC saturday was based around art.
The past few years i've been asking myself what the best band in the world is capable of. What did the beatles do? Did they inspire cultural change or just profit off of it? The ideas for free love were around before lennon. He was just in tune with them. He wrote some poems.
What is inspiration? If you think the same as i do, and you put your thoughts into words before i can, then i'll agree. I'll become more comfortable with the thoughts in my head knowing that they're shared. A more specific understanding of my thoughts would normally leave me thinking i'm inspired. I have not grown. Moreso i've weakened my drive for truth through a lack of uncertanty and knowledge that my thoughts are shared.
What are the benifits of entertainment? A distraction from the suffering of desire?
It feels good to express my truths. It feels good to be valued. If any of my worldly joys come from vanity, pride and lust, then what does that say for a world beyond? If sins are avoided i have nothing left but patience and a tightly gripped promise that the best is yet to come. Is it not greedy to want eternal joy when i die?
peace and love,
simon
I've almost been home a week. I really like my home life. I'm worried it's a little too easy sometimes. I wonder if maybe i can't grow when i have everything i want. I'm living at home. I spend my lonely time reading, writing and playing music. When i'm not alone i'm with a lovely lady, or with any number of rediculously good friends. I've applied for employment insurance, and expect to be financially secure without an ounce of obligation. When i'm happy, i feel like i'm able to inspire joy in others. When i'm sad, i feel i'm learning. Somebody in here likes me.
I put down some words to Battle On today. Possibly the best song to pass through my hands. I've got this thing where i dont want to write out lyrics, cause then they can't change anymore. Once a song is finalized, it can't improve. But with this ideology a song would never be done. I dont think Battle On is finished. I hope i can learn/memorize the words without losing potential for change or addition. I think that's possible.
history whispers victors made mistakes.
Another song, untitled i reckon, or "something wrong" to go along side "something right", or "Jim Morrisson/Bright Eyes", is coming around. I've got a good 4-5 clumps of verse and 2-3 clumps of chorus, but that's only the first half of the song. There's this big jammy part after the words. I'm thinking could use some words later in the song, but i can't tell.
Maybe i write this ^^^ stuff to remind myself that i'm actually working on something. When i read it back, it doesn't sound like something which'd be interesting to anyone that isn't me. (If the blog post could come with an audio file that'd be completely different. Neat idea, really) I'm just trying to express (for my own sake, i'm sure) that i'm making some sort of progress. When i dont feel i'm making musical progress i feel like a waste. Maybe it's stupid to look your passion in the face and say, "what have you done for me lately?" I dont want pride to be my motivating factor for the completion of songs. But how is selflessness supposed to motivate? I'm never gonna know if god/fate/tao thinks it's time to finish a song. Maybe i just have to be patient until the muse inside me can grow large enough to take control of the ink. I [seem to] need to be aware of myself to put it in gear. Once the ball is rolling i can let go.
But that's enough philosophical psychobabble. Spread the love.
simon
There's children coming here for food. Children move fast, they'll be hard to keep up with. I'm frigging tired.
Loving where i'm at. Just loving it.
simon
To follow through on dave fleming's accidental reminder, i'm going to write out an expectation of my future. It's halfways fun to do. I've got instrumental and lingual goals that deserve organization.
fall07 - get home, play bass/guitar/drums, study spanish
spring08 - go south, play bass, speak spanish
summer08 - first year foreman, play a variety of instruments at planting camp
latesummer/fall08 - phat west coast surf/music/roadtrip tour
fall/winter08 - trip continues south, rocking mexico/guatamala
winter/spring09 - back to north eastern canada, montreal is a possibility.
summer09 - 2nd year foreman
fall09/spring10 - Time split between brazil and montreal.
When i live in montreal i'd like to be speaking alot of french. Also buy turntables.
When i'm in brazil i'll find out that spanish isn't exactly portugese, and i'll hope to work on some of the differences during my stay of threish months.
At that point it's summer10, and it's time to plant again. After plant i've got some healthy cash, and i'm ready for something. Maybe 'something' is buying a house with some friends, putting in a recording room, a games room (pool 'n fooz), getting a job in a bookstore, and taking that life on for a season.
Or i could keep living on the move, grab some instruments and some musicians and hop a flight to europe. I think i'll be able to take real good care of myself at this point. I'll land in europe with fourish other VERYGOOD entertainers and a fair bit of experience in english, french, spanish and portugese. Land and let the wind take me. Oooh. Wind. How poetic.
i know i wrote this for me. i enjoyed writing it. do those things lead to something enjoyable to read?
I'm at tom's house. Met the guy in british columbia on my travels, he lives in saskatoon, and that's where i am. I fly home sunday. It's good.
Tom's frigging sweet. I have the impression that i'm entirely welcome and he's glad to have me, and also that he's going about his daily motions exactly as he would if i wasn't here.
have a day, everyone.
Today is halloween. I'm aiming to look like a girl, and i think it should be a good time.
I like iGoogle. My customizable google homepage has a daily einstein quote, a daily confucious quote, a logic/math puzzle, local weather, daily piece of art, buddha thought of the day, and my gmail inbox. Take the world and make it yours again.
May peace and peace and peace be everywhere.
simon
I'm in wolfville, things are nice.
On friday i got picked up on the trans canada a little ways from my house and taken right to the bridge. The guy was driving a fairly old vehicle, with a spedometer that read in miles. There were assorted mugs and vases jingling around where my feet were. There was one mug on the dash, in a homemade steel cupholder.
My driver was an artist. He'd been working in pottery for 30 odd years, and more recently has gotten into metal works. He told me a couple interesting stories about his life, including one time he stole a jar of uranium from his school and went through the lengthy process to get rid of it, eventually leading him to UNB where he gave it to a very happy scientist.
I waited no more than ten minutes at the foot of the bridge, before a bright red truck pulled in from the opposite direction. He mentioned that he used to do a bit of hitchhiking in his day, so that's what probably made him turn around.
He was from rustico, heading to sackville. I told him that my mom used to teach at north rustico. As it turns out, my mom was his son's favorite teacher. And his neice is Denée, who rented out a room in my house last year. Most of the conversation was about coincedences, and how he met such 'n such from such 'n such while he was in such 'n such. Met someone from saskatchewan in thailand who'd rented out his family's cabin in rustico in the summer of '93. Neat!
So i got out in Aulac.
After a reasonably short longest wait period of forty minutes or so, i got picked up by a quebecois man who was heading to newfoundland to work with oil. I'm not sure if there's oil fields or just sea based deals, but that was his story. He'd been in calgary working oil before, and he was on his way to a new job. I was the third hitchhiker that he'd picked up that day.
He might've seen me yawn, or rest my chin in my hand, cause he told me that if i wanted to sleep, then i could. I quickly defended my status, saying i was a little tired, but i'd be fine.
I woke up as he pulled to the side of the road outside truro.
I hitched as soon as i had walked past the exit, but soon found myself walking over a bridge, and another area with little to no pull off space. I assumed I'd have to walk a few kilometres until a car could safely pull over, but some dude in an suv pulled over just ahead of me, dispite complete lack of a thumb. He asked if i needed a ride, and told me that he was heading to halifax. Cool.
Halifax was pretty sweet. A couple of shows. Some VIP treatment (people don't charge you admition when you look this good). And topping the weekend was some glorious conversation/catching up with Aine O'Hizzle. Everything is going to be alright... as soon as rich people start giving cool people houses. The pigs are takin' off.
Yesterday i hitched my way into wolfville with hopes of getting in touch with scott montgomery. It's easy to forget that some people aren't physically dependant on the internet.
Long story shortened: I saw a sign for an open mic. I went and played it, i thought i did well, i spoke to a retired university prof and he invited me to stay at his house. Gave me a cot, a thin sleeping bag and a pillow. In the morning i had oatmeal and tea with the man, and had my first shower in days. It felt super good.
I've spent most of today walking around with a bass guitar strapped on. In and out of stores.
----
OOOh.
I've taken up the visual arts. I think it might stick.
Got some paints last week. A cheap pack of acrylic paints, a handful of brushes, and a pad of paper. It's a very soothing activity.
And then in halifax i got my hands on a couple of professional drawing pencils. Two blacks, a brown and a different brown. And i got a coiled sketch book.
I've drawn four pictures. I have temporarily given up on drawing things accurately (stick men have made appearances in my last two pictures). What i am trying to do is communicate ideas with my drawings. Ideas like, "bigger is better", "two heads are better than one", and "the devil and god are raging inside me" except none of those. Probably things a little less 'putintowordable'.
Visual Arts!! Wowabunga!
simon
Whether your worried about me or not, you're learning that i had a successful hitch to halifax experience.
I'm paying 13 cents a minute for this internet. Bosh!
"If art is concerned with truth, then a society in denial will not find much use for it." - Jeanette Winterson
Can a person be tricked into a deeper understanding? If something is attention grabbing on the surface but has a deep rooted truth, will that truth dig deep so long as the individual is in contact with the art? It's a nice ideal.
The above quote came through on the most successful random page flip in recent memory. Yesterday i read an article in new york magazine (online) titled "Has Money Ruined Art." Rex Murphy's program on CBC saturday was based around art.
The past few years i've been asking myself what the best band in the world is capable of. What did the beatles do? Did they inspire cultural change or just profit off of it? The ideas for free love were around before lennon. He was just in tune with them. He wrote some poems.
What is inspiration? If you think the same as i do, and you put your thoughts into words before i can, then i'll agree. I'll become more comfortable with the thoughts in my head knowing that they're shared. A more specific understanding of my thoughts would normally leave me thinking i'm inspired. I have not grown. Moreso i've weakened my drive for truth through a lack of uncertanty and knowledge that my thoughts are shared.
What are the benifits of entertainment? A distraction from the suffering of desire?
It feels good to express my truths. It feels good to be valued. If any of my worldly joys come from vanity, pride and lust, then what does that say for a world beyond? If sins are avoided i have nothing left but patience and a tightly gripped promise that the best is yet to come. Is it not greedy to want eternal joy when i die?
peace and love,
simon
Just popped "Draw a Distance. Draw a Border." into my cd player. A band called The Details that i saw at baba's on tuesday. They're from winnipeg. I think i like them. I'm wearing their pins. One on a guitar strap. One on a bass strap.
I've almost been home a week. I really like my home life. I'm worried it's a little too easy sometimes. I wonder if maybe i can't grow when i have everything i want. I'm living at home. I spend my lonely time reading, writing and playing music. When i'm not alone i'm with a lovely lady, or with any number of rediculously good friends. I've applied for employment insurance, and expect to be financially secure without an ounce of obligation. When i'm happy, i feel like i'm able to inspire joy in others. When i'm sad, i feel i'm learning. Somebody in here likes me.
I put down some words to Battle On today. Possibly the best song to pass through my hands. I've got this thing where i dont want to write out lyrics, cause then they can't change anymore. Once a song is finalized, it can't improve. But with this ideology a song would never be done. I dont think Battle On is finished. I hope i can learn/memorize the words without losing potential for change or addition. I think that's possible.
history whispers victors made mistakes.
Another song, untitled i reckon, or "something wrong" to go along side "something right", or "Jim Morrisson/Bright Eyes", is coming around. I've got a good 4-5 clumps of verse and 2-3 clumps of chorus, but that's only the first half of the song. There's this big jammy part after the words. I'm thinking could use some words later in the song, but i can't tell.
Maybe i write this ^^^ stuff to remind myself that i'm actually working on something. When i read it back, it doesn't sound like something which'd be interesting to anyone that isn't me. (If the blog post could come with an audio file that'd be completely different. Neat idea, really) I'm just trying to express (for my own sake, i'm sure) that i'm making some sort of progress. When i dont feel i'm making musical progress i feel like a waste. Maybe it's stupid to look your passion in the face and say, "what have you done for me lately?" I dont want pride to be my motivating factor for the completion of songs. But how is selflessness supposed to motivate? I'm never gonna know if god/fate/tao thinks it's time to finish a song. Maybe i just have to be patient until the muse inside me can grow large enough to take control of the ink. I [seem to] need to be aware of myself to put it in gear. Once the ball is rolling i can let go.
But that's enough philosophical psychobabble. Spread the love.
simon
I'm back on pei, and i feel so good. I didn't sleep much last night, so i'm a little stupid, but i can smell turkey. Somehow that's related, and makes lack of sleep a non issue. Could be the stupidity. Mmm, turkey.
There's children coming here for food. Children move fast, they'll be hard to keep up with. I'm frigging tired.
Loving where i'm at. Just loving it.
simon
I just tried turntables, they're really hard. I'll need a lot of time. I'd say in two years my spinning talents will have redeeming value.
To follow through on dave fleming's accidental reminder, i'm going to write out an expectation of my future. It's halfways fun to do. I've got instrumental and lingual goals that deserve organization.
fall07 - get home, play bass/guitar/drums, study spanish
spring08 - go south, play bass, speak spanish
summer08 - first year foreman, play a variety of instruments at planting camp
latesummer/fall08 - phat west coast surf/music/roadtrip tour
fall/winter08 - trip continues south, rocking mexico/guatamala
winter/spring09 - back to north eastern canada, montreal is a possibility.
summer09 - 2nd year foreman
fall09/spring10 - Time split between brazil and montreal.
When i live in montreal i'd like to be speaking alot of french. Also buy turntables.
When i'm in brazil i'll find out that spanish isn't exactly portugese, and i'll hope to work on some of the differences during my stay of threish months.
At that point it's summer10, and it's time to plant again. After plant i've got some healthy cash, and i'm ready for something. Maybe 'something' is buying a house with some friends, putting in a recording room, a games room (pool 'n fooz), getting a job in a bookstore, and taking that life on for a season.
Or i could keep living on the move, grab some instruments and some musicians and hop a flight to europe. I think i'll be able to take real good care of myself at this point. I'll land in europe with fourish other VERYGOOD entertainers and a fair bit of experience in english, french, spanish and portugese. Land and let the wind take me. Oooh. Wind. How poetic.
i know i wrote this for me. i enjoyed writing it. do those things lead to something enjoyable to read?
First and foremost: There is a delightful band called Beirut with a delightful video for a song called "Elephant Gun" on youtube. I heard the song many times before i saw the video, but both song and video are lovely pieces of artwork.
I'm at tom's house. Met the guy in british columbia on my travels, he lives in saskatoon, and that's where i am. I fly home sunday. It's good.
Tom's frigging sweet. I have the impression that i'm entirely welcome and he's glad to have me, and also that he's going about his daily motions exactly as he would if i wasn't here.
have a day, everyone.