Find Your Spot

This was a hell of a year for me. As in hellish, really bad. As the years progress you are expected to be wiser and more experienced. What is the nature of this mystic wisdom that is supposed to accumulate as time passes you by? I'm not sure.

They say that the basis of wisdom is "I do not know" or at least the recognition of that fact. If that is true, then I am wise indeed. I have re-learnt several important lessons this year (that I will probably revisit next year as well thanks to my amazing memory). One of them is the importance of context, how lack of information or the reliance on false and misleading presumptions can lead to cognitive and emotional errors and mishaps. The view of the world and its people is always partial and to judge according to this partial knowledge is to inevitably err. And yet, additional data will never be quite enough for a full and comprehensive picture. It is always limited to and based on your own flawed perspective.

What do I do then? If gathering additional data alone can't help, what will?
Patience. Empathy. Imagination. Compassion. Constant learning and developing. Interaction. Challenge. Being aware of the tendency to judge and jump into conclusions and instead trying to be open minded and perceptive.

The coming year will bring many changes and challenges: a new flat, possibly a new job, a possible trip abroad with its own opportunities, maybe even a new iOS (yeah, haven't upgraded yet). Looking back, I think I've acquired some important tools of thinking and skepticism this year, and I hope to put them to good use.

I can't say I'm optimistic. I know where I live and what some of my limitations are. But in the end, my life is my own (another important lesson I've failed to internalize). It is for me to choose how to use it.

It is past time I do.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was going to write something a little different about music in this post, before I got carried away with the pseudo resolutions. I was listening to a recording of a concert by Nils Frahm on Youtube the other day. I got to it by the seeming randomness of life - one of Youtube's suggestions based on my previous listens.

The concert is made of several pieces and it was only in the second or so pieces that I got hooked or turned on. Frahm, it seemed to me, plays the piano with a sort of a strike, almost a hammering (though it's quite possibly the poor audio I had). It was an interesting technique, but somehow by that particular piece it had changed. I felt oddly connected, like I knew what he was trying to say and how. The technique seemed to flow and it wasn't hammering at all; it was a mode of music and feeling.

Today I listened to the same concert again and I wasn't able to pinpoint exactly where and when I got hooked. I still felt the music and enjoyed it, but the experience was different.

So what is it that gets us hooked on some of the times and not the others? The way we listen, open ourselves to it? The environment and technical parameters? Our state of mind? Is this the upside of jumping to conclusions that might have ended quite differently had I gave my first listen today instead of that other day? Will I now on future listens always look for that point in the track when I thought and felt "yes, this is it" (and thus ignore, to some degree, the present)?

What are we shutting our eyes to when we're looking for that one thing?

Take a listen. See if you can find that spot that works for you.

Oh, and Happy New Year.

Nils Frahm - Live @La Route du Rock 2011

Nils Frahm's web page and twitter.

Also, there were aliens.

Do you know how it's like when it's 02:30 am, you're waking up from another dream where you were going to die horribly and the house is almost too quiet for comfort? And then, just as you think it's safe to go back and fight your way back into sleep, there's that creaking on the roof that kinda sounds like human steps except the weight distribution is a little off? Or the feeling you get when you close the window that maybe there's someone on the outside looking in?

Oh, it's just me then.

The universe is stranger than we give it credit though. Even the slim parts we can explain with science (some would say especially those parts). The trick may be to keep calm and nod at the nice monster under the bed. Maybe it was you who have disturbed her dreams?

You can also use a soundtrack that is written with these unmentionable occurrences in mind. Take a listen to Blitz//Berlin (formerly Theset), a Canadian quartet of supposed human beings, making soundtracks, for movies and those deeply disturbing moments at night, inspired and laced with punk and hip-hop.

Pleasant dreams.

Blitz//Berlin - Drink {MP3}
Blitz//Berlin - Outside {MP3}

Blitz//Berlin is on Facebook & Twitter.

And It's Alright

My chest hurts. It's probably nothing. Stress. Anxiety. There is much to be anxious about these days.
I try my usual tricks to help me relax, to calm down just a little.

I venture into the imaginary world that I pay a monthly upkeep to access, but I can't find myself there anymore. There are echoes, traces of who I once was, but I'm not there anymore.

I try to write, to create a world of my own. There is so much to tell and paint, so few words. I write a paragraph, then stop. Try another, then pause and stare at the waiting cursor. I know the story but I don't know how to reach it. I am lost to it. Without me it cannot be told, and I am silent.

I turn to look for friends, companions, acquaintances, but I cannot reach them. I am lost.

I try to look inside myself, but there is nothing. Only emptiness, a riddled past, an ever stretching present and a cloudy future. I try to break away from the selfish pain and the gnawing anxiety but it's as though I am trying to leave this body behind. They are too much a part of me by now.

Finally, I turn to music. It has always been there for me. I can still hear it, still listen, though my attention span is declining in favor of the pain and dread in my rib cage. And I am so tired.

But it still works, it's still a lifeline out of this place and, for a short time, out of this existence.

I listen and remember I am still alive, I still hunger, I still dream.

I know it's not going to be alright, but for a few minutes I can believe.

"And It's Alright" by Peter Broderick (from Home)

How I came to love Amanda Palmer

I admit, I still don't know her well. I'm familiar with some of her Dresden Dolls material and some of her more recent work. I was deterred by her looks and her voice, the musical style didn't speak to me; I didn't connect. In a way, I didn't believe, I thought it was all show.
When I heard she was dating and later married Neil Gaiman, I thought she was the lucky one, that he was Her catch.

But I was so wrong. All I had to do was listen, read her words and look into her eyes and heart. She's been working tirelessly for her music, her art, her fans and her loved ones. She is fighting, in ever original and inspiring ways, against bullying and for a greater understanding and harmony between people. And when you feel her passion you know she'll get there, she'll reach every lonely despondent youth, every couple who's forgotten their initial spark.

She once met a random teenager and encouraged him to write beautiful music. She cancelled a tour to be with an ailing friend. She is revolutionizing crowd funding and contact with fans as any indie - true indie - artist can, promoting the slogan 'We are the media'.

And she means it.

She is not perfect. I don't like all her songs. There is something about her that is disquieting. But I cannot help but love her. She's not perfect-  she's human and true and I can feel her message and know that I'm not alone in my pain, that there is a kinship shared by everyone. That, perhaps, there is still hope.

P.S. - Neil is the lucky one.


Amanda Palmer & The Grand Theft Orchestra - The Bed Song
Amanda Palmer's website and twitter.

"... But one day I'll be free"

It's true I am out of touch. In part, I wish to escape the dreary reality I was born into and be elsewhere, anywhere, but in the here and now. Music used to allow me such a method of traveling without moving (too much - even this poor body can attempt his own version of a dance on occasion). But I seemed to have hardened my skin in the past few years, raising new barriers to keep the world out and looking deeper within. So it now takes a more conscious effort to open up and listen, and consequently, to feel. But I can't hide anymore. And though the pain is ever present, it may have some positive uses to it yet.

But I will take things in measure. Life, and the people we meet, need to be appreciated. Every person has a story to tell, a unique voice, a point of view. The world is full of wonder and terror and we know nothing except this very moment. We may be wrong, we may be right, but that in itself doesn't matter as much as the respect and love we give our fellow travelers. And if that sounds like a load of new age BS, well, maybe it is. Meaning, as pretty much everything, is in the eye of the beholder.

Marika Hackman (taken from a Bristol Couch session)

Marika Hackman is a beautiful British artist I was fortunate enough to be introduced to a few days ago. As always, the music speaks for itself, and it carries that slightly haunting-mysterious air about it that I find so intriguing and appealing. It evokes that feeling of distant memories and dreams long gone, of scenes and experiences you're not sure were ever real, but are true just the same. Recording these clips in a dark tunnel adds its share as well.




Marika Hackman - Bath is Black {from the upcoming That Iron Taste mini album}


Marika Hackman - Mountain Spines {from the upcoming That Iron Taste mini album}

Check Marika Hackman on tour and on her website:

Marika Hackman w/ Ethan Johns UK Dates 

1st Feb – Brighton – Unitarian Church

2nd Feb – Brighton – South Street Theatre

4th Feb – Bristol – Colston Hall 

2 5th Feb – Cardiff – The Gate Arts Centre

6th Feb – Exeter – Phoenix 

7th Feb – Nottingham – Glee Club Studio

9th Feb – Sheffield – The Lantern Theatre

10th Feb – Birmingham – Glee Club

11th Feb – Norwich – Arts Centre

13th Feb – Liverpool – The Capstone Theatre

14th Feb – Stockton – The Georgian Theatre

15th Feb – Kendal – Brewery Arts Centre

16th Feb – Edinburgh – The Pleasance Theatre

18th Feb – Manchester – Sacred Trinity

19th Feb – Leeds – Brudenell

25th Feb – London – Purcell Rooms 

Marika Hackman Headline UK Tour

28th Feb  – Brighton – Komedia

1st March – Bristol – Louisiana

2nd march – Manchester – The Castle

3rd March – Edinburgh – Electric Circus

4th March – Newcastle – Think Tank

                                           6th March – London – Sebright Arms

Be sure to also check out Bristol Couch on Youtube for some lovely outdoorsy folk clips, including one featuring Marika Hackman.

 

Shower Time

I tried to die,
I told my heart to stop,
Today, as the water washed over flesh,
Seemingly warm, sensually cold.
But my valve wouldn't stop
(though it did deign to slow)
As I cried and I begged it for boon.
"Let it go", I pleaded,
"get some rest", I did try.
For a minute or two,
I thought there was hope,
For the dimness was suddenly fresh;
And I thought that I saw,
Though it shimmered and sparkled,
A silence profound in my head.
And there were no voices,
Only water keeps running,
Keeps running all over my head.
And for one single instant
(it may have been two)
There was peace and serenity too.
But the voices returned,
The breath, it resumed,
And so did I, gasping for air.
And the moment, it passed,
And I still remain,
And all for a valve and a voice in my head,
And a memory that never was there.