Friday, April 30

Sometimes I Get Smiles That Even I Can't Explain

Case in point: apparently someone's working on a movie documentary about the life of musical instrument inventor/mad scientist extraordinaire Bob Moog. Considered by many to be the father of the synthesizer, footprints of Moog's creativity can be found in almost all modern electronic music.

But more than just an engineering marvel, Moog the person is sort of this crazy-haired maverick who looks at the world through a very unique set of eyes. From making instruments that you play by waving your hands through the air to challenging the way people think about creativity, this is the kind of guy who leaves a mark on you whenever you read his words or hear him talk.

So when I discovered the site promoting this movie and started watching the trailer, I kinda knew what I was getting into. But what I wasn't really expecting at all was the huge grin that broke out on my face at the sight of this world-reknowned 70-year old laughing like a little kid while he banged away at a Japanese arcade game.

I mean, this is the dude who's basically responsible for almost every thing in this world that goes bleep, bloop, and blip. But for whatever reason, I found it unexpectedly and ultimately cool to see him grinning like a total dolt.

        High score, Bob.
        High score.



[Listening to: Prince


Thursday, April 29

Speed on the Sleeve

How can I hear this song without thinking of you?
How can I see the moon and not remember?
How could I ever walk through cookie aisles and not want to touch?

Every time I drive
I raise my eyes to
radio antennaes
searching for...

       Red Skies
       Dragonflies
       Orange cars
       and dove bars


How can I see your blushing smile and ever forget the day we learned to swim?
...how can I forget the things you've said to him?

                You wear your heart on your sleeve
                she said, she said
                but sometimes it beats
                a little too fast
                for me


[Listening to: Zero7


Tuesday, April 27

Cue

I shaved my head again. Summer's here, the ocean's been calling, and somehow whenever my hair starts to grow out now, I'm more aware of my bald spot than I should be. So I got out the clippers, plugged in, and didn't look back.

The thing about it is that no matter how many times I cut my hair like this, everything feels different. Shaving your head is rediscovering your skin. The warmth of the sun, the chill of the wind-- It's like I'm more aware of things now, less protected. Perhaps the honesty of the sensation is truly the best thing for me, but it's almost like a reflex to want that buffer there.

      I feel like I look worse when that halo's attached,
      ...but I still miss it when it's gone, you know?

I don't know, the currents all around me have been so intense lately. Pure highs, hell lows. Nothing filtered by distance, nothing watered down. It's like I've been finally feeling the air directly on my skin for weeks now, ignoring the instinct to cover up and hide. It's been a good thing, I think -- but every true experience is shadowed with every color of the spectrum. You eventually have to decide for real what you'll reflect and what you'll absorb. What's more, once you decide -- the decision is made, and the chances that you can take it back are slim and none.

So you have to trust that what you are doing is right thing. You have to trust that you've made the decisions that you need to make.

      Even when the wind is cold against your skin.

[Listening to: Coltrane, "Naima"


Sunday, April 25

Something Sandy Said

Stories one and stories three, your mind runs faster than the speed of thought. No oragami swans left under rising police cars, no Vangelis explanations to hide behind. This is what water feels like when it falls from your cheek, this is what it feels like when the flower that forgets you opens to the sun. Pleasure and pain, sugar and water, mistrust and misunderstand, live to believe with your eyes happily closed.

I make perfect sense, I don't know what the hell I'm talking about
...which is probably why it's so hard to understand me sometimes.

          I'm a dork in shining armor,
          and sometimes I fear that
          I always will be.


But it doesn't mean that I don't care. That I don't feel. That it doesn't hurt.

                    Satyagraha will save us all
                    but it's a blade like any other,
                    ...and it cuts both ways.


[Listening to: Burn Season


Thursday, April 15

Basement Jack

The sun spins away, but it's really you who are turning.
The clothes, the desks, the innocences all seem smaller,
...but it's really you who are growing.

The sensations of time passing, of seasons changing, of the cycles we follow around and around and around..

      Do you feel them?

Every night theres a moon in the sky that makes me think of someone I miss, but it's someone I haven't talked to in months. Every time I hear a certain song, or feel winters chill, or see images that mean only mean something to me, there's a trigger. Sometimes it's a trigger of warmth, a welcome shiverkiss in otherwise cold air.

      but sometimes it overwhelms you.

Sometimes, without even feeling it, you retreat from the reality. You back away from the things that seem to bring the hurt. The things you want, but can't have. The things that sparkle, but don't fit. The confusion that leaves you standing between choices, unable to move for fear of upsetting the balance between the paths. It's like ice cubes in coffee, or hot fudge on ice cream. If you could just somehow find a way to have both sides...

   But the coffee will melt the water,
   and the topping will reduce the sweetness to something ..different.


Being without an answer was like descending a staircase. Like moving into a room underneath the places you choose to live. A place where you can see everything that's going on, but a place that's too far away for you to feel like you can affect any sort of change. It's a strange sensation, like sitting in a desk that's too small, or watching the moon fade away from the night.

You lose track of who is actually the one turning away. You become confused about who doesn't fit what, and how the changes ever occurred.

          You lose track.

[Listening to: Basement Jaxx


Sunday, April 4

Finally

    Someone built it. Time to go kick some clown ass!


Saturday, April 3

Go Ahead, Throw in the Laundry

I spent most of the morning working around the yard. Mowing, trimming, edging -- the whole kittenkaboodle. When I was done I took a shower and then started to check email when I noticed that my arm was trembling a little. The last thing I did in the yard was run the weedeater around the edges of the porch so that I could slice up the milkweed and dandelion stalks before they got too high.

When I put my hand on the mouse to click the links, one of my fingers would shake. It was weird, but I more or less shrugged it off with a snort

      "...Fucking weedeater."

But then like a second later, I caught myself. I started staring at the muscles visibly trembling in my forearm and I started thinking, "No, wait a second. Just because I ran around with a weedwhacker in my hands for half an hour doesn't mean this sort of thing should still be happening 15 minutes later, does it?"

      I mean, really.. what the hell is this?

Where does this sort of thing come from? Are my muscles somehow... retaining the vibrations from the thing? Is it some sort of deal where these shakes have just been kind of pushed in there because of the machinery I was using? Is there anything I can do about it other than just wait around for them to work themselves out?

It doesn't make any sense. It's not like I have to walk around at top speed whenever I get out of a car. It's not like my fingers keep wiggling around after I've been typing for a long time. Why am I getting DT's from yardwork?

To be honest, it kinda scared me. Raked up a bunch of stupid wives' tales and old man fears. Something about cracking your knuckles too much, or swimming less than two hours after you eat. Something about the way my father's hands sometimes shake for no reason.

Maybe it's nothing, but it felt like a glimpse into a future I didn't want to see.

...It's sorta stopped now, but my arm still feels really tense.

I don't know whether I should just shrug this off or be worried about it for real.

       One thing's for sure though --
       From here on out, those
       dandelions can grow
       all they want.



Friday, April 2

I Have a Jacket That Lets Me Hug Myself

I have a bracelet that I don't take off.
I have a Christmas present I haven't opened yet.
I have a sticker on my car that was given to me by an ex-girlfriend
   ...for a skate company that her last ex-boyfriend used to run.
I have a drumset that's too small to sit in front of.
I have a nickname I haven't heard in years...

       I have a jacket that lets me hug myself
       Bug myself, snug myself
       I have a habit that's no good for my health
       Inside my jacket, all by myself


I have a pillowcase that you made me.
I have sixty-two friends I've never ever met.
   ...I have an empty fishtank filled with water.
I have a problem I don't want to solve yet.

       I have a jacket that lets me hug myself
       Bug myself, snug myself
       I have a habit that's no good for my health
       Inside my jacket, all by myself...




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