Category Archives: Art

Post-Apocolyptic Laundry

Imagine if you will- a tech-dominated world where people are slowly trickling in.  Their one domestic responsibility is to have responsibility for their own laundry.  In divided groups at certain times, they trek down to the last slow-running river in order to beat the shit out of their clothes.  This is their way of staying connected to nature and need. However, the scene is always distorted somehow by the leftover frequencies that pollute the air.

This piece is about a  woman trying to remember the “other world” she uses to live in, and she feels a very strong desire to share these memories with anyone who will listen.  In this world, it is rarely silent, but there are only certain times when it is permissible to speak.  The tones of the reception are measuring the frequency of the output from the people, and if the speaker derails into topics not meant for discussion- the frequency reflects that.

This is a personal compilation of solo creations I have made in the last month.  I would like to add more stories to this because I want to introduce you to Maggie- and her story is incredible.  We wouldn’t know about the Laundry Lady if we didn’t recognize Maggie and her participation in bringing her to view.

Please enjoy- Post-Apocalyptic Laundry-

 

 

Perfections

My wonderful collaborator, Alessandro, has veered off into some Indian Raga path- and the smooth transition he takes into that expanded soundscape is gently adding new dimensions to the overall tonal frequency that has been our adaptations.

I am still sloppily grasping at chords and hitting wrong notes with confidence.

And by accident- we create perfection.

This new piece Most Angry Bungalow is my new favorite anthem.

To me, it speaks to memories brought up in a current moment.   The echo of the past interwoven with the present.  Like two long lost lovers, who fell out of fortune- finding themselves together again in the four walls they use to call home.   Talking in new tones as they recall a leftover yesterday that still chimes heartstrings.

This beautiful accident was simply two artists in two places who speak the same language and read the same music- but it is completely etheric- there is no proof, no conversation claiming any specific musical direction- our individual hands led by some unseen force that felt the need for this song to be reborn.  Because it is and it isn’t ours alone- Ale and me- acting simply as conduits of this reminder.

Enjoy-

Here Are My Albums

Ale and I have been continuing to pass each other soundbites through the ether in hopes of finally healing some dark human wound that we all possess and would like to ascend from, so you can imagine that sometimes things get weird.

These albums are no exception.  They are audio journies in long-form. They have the power to take you where you need to go- if you have the patience to listen and relax into it.

These compositions have been a pleasure to make and they really force me to be present with all synapses firing.  I am not in a preconceived attempt- I simply do what I feel like doing in a moment; that may be a vocal reading, collecting sounds or beating the shit out of an instrument in a way it was not designed to be used.

This process has developed into quite a conduit of expression and creativity that keeps me on my toes when it comes to imagination.  This is what I want to share with you.

I want you to take the grit with the beauty and awkward and the graceful interlude.   To feel all of it for yourself with no preconceived notion of where it will lead you.  All I ask is that you invite your imagination for the journey.  And thank Alessandro Muresu for any grace that comes from these compositions- he has the gentle touch that balances everything you hear within these gifts.

All of his contact info is in the video description. Subscribe to his channel, he makes new music EVERY DAY!

Let me know how it plays out for you in the end!

 

Unconventional: Rise Above to Reform

Have you ever been at a point, where it all seems so obvious and you can’t believe people are still arguing over what is blatant?

That is me, here, now in this cybersphere.  I thought that by leaving FB I would find respite- but one doesn’t simply go cold turkey with social media- they migrate and adapt.

For me, this was moving over to Twitter, where the conversation completely changed and I felt like I jumped into the deep end of the lake.

On FB, I had over 500 friends and over a 100 followers… I know, I know; nothing to brag about, but it equaled engagement.

On Twitter, I have roughly 90-96 followers and I am pretty sure at least a dozen of them are surveillance.  When one of the surveillance accounts realizes I am useless- they move on.  That’s cool- what ev’s.

That doesn’t stop the weirdness on my end though- Nope.  I am still at the mercy of algorithms when I go check my feed.

My motto:  “I’ll follow back until your posts get whack.”

Why?   I am not your judge- I am not your jury.  If you start posting stuff that makes me want to act in a negative or violent way- I will simply remove you the way I would a thorn or a splinter.

I will pay attention to the wound, give it care with things that will remove the intrusion.

This doesn’t mean I am running away or avoiding things- it means I am doing what I can to control my internal environment which will ultimately impact my external environment.  I could let my wound fester, or I could care for it and bring it back to optimum function.

90% of what I see posted online, makes me want to kick someone in the shins- why?  Probably because when we hurt we try and hurt others and the things I see posted bring me more than a modicum of pain.

If leaving FB taught me anything, it’s that I am sick of making myself responsible for the pain of others, or assuming that I was the source of pain, to begin with, because that is how hard we can be on ourselves.  We will assume so hard that a post is about us, that it will tear us up inside and then overflow into the life we live that isn’t attached at all to a SIMPLE FUCKING POST!

It’s crazy- but it’s real and normal for day to day life.   How many people are lugging around their own unspoken guilt and ruining the lives of others because a post was worded in a way that makes an individual have to face their own conscience?

I had to leave because I was on the brink of kicking shins because of the fakeness of all of it.  I wanted to kick shins because it would really hurt, in real time- but it isn’t fatal, but it is brutal.

I sit here at times just hoping for a real and raw conversation about how fucked up we are individually and in groups- not because I want to further twist a wound but because I can’t wait to find people who are finally mature enough to address the issue while also avoiding kicking shins.

I’ve found people would rather kick shins until they are bruised or deal with broken toes that have to heal from all the kicking.

I want a conversation or ten to be good enough.  Most people would rather mince words, or not talk at all, because they know their words will hurt as bad as a bruised shin.

When I say “I can’t do this anymore.”  It is because I truly can not do it anymore. I am smart enough to know that there are others in the world who don’t want to operate on the program we have been fed- and those are my loves of forever.  They are the ones who keep coming back, again and again, so that none of us are left alone in the struggle.

Those of us aware of the struggle, say “NO MORE!”   We are done.

 

 

How Wang Fô was saved

For some months now- Ale has been intent on this story of “How Wang Fô was Saved”  and he found inspiration to record an Italian translation of the story accompanied by music made specifically for this creation.

I was honored to be asked to create an English translation of the story- which Ale also created accompaniment for.

I had not read the story before the recording.  I wanted to test my voice with the words- and once I began reading out loud- I said: “screw it- start the recording.”

You are hearing the story unfold for me for the very first time.  I am not exactly sure how it will weave.  There are moments you can hear my voice fall because I am shocked at the revelations the text is painting.

I was left with some beautiful insights and contemplations.  I hope this story can do the same for you.   Please join us  as we share the story of:

How Wang Fô was saved