Music

Music is the only thing I have. I listen. I try to play--but it's never the same. That's ok though, I do it for me. I have to do it for me.

For me, there is no pop. There is no dance. There is just a man in a mask swaying with his eyes closed. There is just Death in June. There is just Casiotone for the Painfully alone. There is just Former Ghosts. There is just Xiu Xiu. There is just Felt Drawings. There is no Suicide.

How can I create something similar to perfection? Do I even want that? How does perfection feel? Good? Then it's not for me. I want a broken sound to match my brokenness. I want it to sound like it belongs in a basement. I want to hear the fuzz. I want it to be amateur.

Take your pop music and leave. There is no emotion there. What is music without emotion? It's nothing. You have taken the single most beautiful type of expression and replaced it with hollow sound. I don't care how well the production is. I don't care how "beautiful" your voice is. I don't care how well you play the guitar. I don't care how many albums you sell. There is nothing there.

Music is my life; without my music I wouldn't be.

The value of lists and favorite male actor

I have recently been contemplating the value of lists in everyday life along with their psychological aspects. Lists offer a great organizational tool but I believe their greatest value is in the concrete and  physical expression of preference and opinion.

The following list was organized around the central question: What male actor continuously makes movies I fall in love with?

Favorite Male Actor:

1. Bill Murray
2. Harrison Ford
3. Tom Hanks
4. Will Smith
5. Tommy Lee Jones
6. Patrick Stewart
7. Kevin Spacey
8. Ian McKellen
9. Jeff Bridges
10. Clint Eastwood

A list says a lot about a person--what does this list say about me?

I'm still here... and the fascist headquarters in Rome

Wow. What an amazing accomplishment--I am still here after a day. So what now? What can I share?

Something I have been interested recently is the imposing design of the fascist party headquarters (in Rome). The building is called the "Palazzo Braschi" and still stands today.

The contrast between the building then and now is vast. I also discovered another, lesser seen, version of this building during the Italian fascist period (see middle)

1934

1929

Today

A trek through the woods

A few weeks ago, I went trekking through a forest near my university. A coldfront recently came through and I felt like a walk through the woods would be a great way to start my morning. I had been there a few times before and always saw something picture worthy so I decided to bring my camera.

Initially, I didn't know what I was looking for. Soon after entering the woods though, I had the thought of a collection of photographs documenting foreign objects, mostly trash, in the woods. I wouldn't present this from an environmental aspect--more from a "what is this, how did it get here, who put it here, and why?" point of view.

Please note, I am no photographer. I don't have a good camera. I don't edit or balance any pictures.

Anyway, here are some noteworthy photos.

I spotted a particularly interesting contraption in a rather trashy area

Here it is up close, I'm not really sure what it could of been used for

I have no idea what this is, perhaps a walkie talkie plastic case?

I should of opened the burried coffee mug to see if anything was inside.

How did these get here? Why are they still, more or less, stacked?

I could not find the other shoe

Here is another pair, I think these are children's shoes

A burner

A shirt

Scattered contents of a bag containing a Barenaked Ladies CD

The red ribbon tied around a tree during National Red Ribbon Week is intended to bring  awareness to numerous drug, alcohol, and tobacco related issues

A mattress

A hardhat

Well... this is it I guess. I'll see how long I can keep this up.

A fresh blogger or tumblr is a common sight. When I am at my lowest, emotionally, I feel inspired (although inspired is a terrible word, more like compelled to crawl out of an emotional shit-hole) to create... something. Usually music--but on occasion a blog.

Of course I give up updating usually after a day or so. I just get trampled by thoughts like "why are you wasting your time making something nobody will read?," or "why are you documenting how fucking terrible you feel, how is this helpful?," or "nobody cares about your silly little amateur projects, why even try?."

Well here I am again. Let's give it another go. The purpose of this blog is to share my music, my feelings, and my interests.