Monthly Archives: September 2010

Rotimum and the Aura of Nowhereness

BackstreetsRotimum. Another oddly named Konglish translated attempt at the a seat with the feasters of the world banquet. Strong coffee, yellow tank tops you coul rip off with one hand, the MP3 generation. Forcing my way through a crowd of young professionals, work’s over, it’s Friday night in Seoul.

Octagonal tables with waiter call button, so forward, man. Makes me want to write a beat, humming back-of-throat kick sounds of a house track to myself, the DIY human jukebox, pumping beats to myself walking down the road and now we’re here, the work crowd.

A few idle words – baby talk in English to well-intending, adult Korean men.

And the beauty, the joy, the blessing, the spectacle of the whole bustling, harrowing side-splitting scene around an indoor cofee table in a stylish western-styled wood-panel restaurant somewhere in South Korea, the sheer delight is the rain. Every coded adboard neon brilliant in the night. And a gift of double reflections cast luminescent into my every field of vision. For 360 describes only one dimension. What about up? Down? What about time, and teh bullshit fades away into reflected glory of nowhere-in-the-worldness, the type you just can’t imitate.

Surrounded in some back-alley place by a chirpy group of older men and women, speaking some alien tongue, I remembered what travel truly was.

– 1st staff dinner, Seongdong-gu, August 2010

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Metamorphosis.

Caterpillars“We’re leaving the parking lot. The pupae squirm from the cocoon.”

– EPIK 2010 farewell

It’s nowhere far away from  the hive; in fact, it’s quite a busy little village for the region. I’m now somewhere miles from people, faces, stories; in fact, I’m surrounded by them constantly and forcefully. I’m not on that rickety bus, each pothole sending shocks, huge jolts knocking up memories of the past. But it’s the same rain which falls on the window. It’s the rain which expresses simple truths to all men and women and creatures. Things fall from the sky. Things happen. This is happening. This is happening, again.

A few of these people catch my eye, hold my attention. I often wonder about all the strangers. You and I can never please everyone. By holding a flag high and claiming, “For this I stand!” you build your tribe. And tribes overlap. The being inside two tribes – or better yet, in between two tribes – this is freedom. Always nowhere. Always change. Always here.

Still carrying bags, though.

Addicted

Addicted

At least this justifies my coffee addiction somewhat…

– advert in Seoul subway station

Short Quotes

  • Rely on no-one to build a house only you will live in.
  • The road’s not always brightly lit with neon signs.
  • The greatest musicians are not known for their technique, but for their passion.

Funny.

  • Will somebody please tell me what an anti-oxidant is and why I should believe that it’s good for me?
  • Seismology: the only time you’re paid to find fault.
  • Korea: where women ‘lie up’ about their age!
  • Where is Papua New Guinea? No, I know where it is, but WTF.

Songwriting Formula.

Songwriting Formula

Not every song is a hit. Nor do you want it to be.

Be prolific. Then prune.

One song one idea. Know the idea.

Create / realise who is singing the song.

Smooth-Edged Circle.

Smooth-Edged Circle

Nobody has told me to feel what I now feel. I stand alongside others, and we make small talk. The chat is unimportant, but so meaningful. I have achieved a self-respect so deep that nothing threatens it any more. I play violin. Every day of my life, I make music. I am terifically mature for my age. I have been here so long. I have learned so much. There is so much to learn. I  am on the cusp of another great adventure. I am prepared to do it alone. I love my God. I love myself. I love my others. Is there anything else?

– watching comedy at Yvandi’s place, Jun 2010

Grow. Prune. Uproot.

Grow. Prune. Uproot.

Grow that which must be grown.

Prune that which must be pruned.

Uproot that which must be uprooted.

How You Know You’re Getting There

How You Know You're Getting There

You know the outcome.

Your tastes refine.

You don’t care for track names.

You let go and break your own rules.

You take time.

You accept failure

You listen more to the audio than your reaction.

You feel good first.

And so…?

Feel the grass beneath your feet

And so…? You’re gonna make an album, earn loads of cash from shows, achieve your dreams. And then what? Look back at all the time along the way that you preoccupied yourself with getting there, at the expense of a balanced life? Forget the need to achieve, dude, or at the very least, let go of it. Success, failure. Quit labelling yourself. Quit pining for another time. And while you’re at it, look around. Break out. Break away. Yes, even from the things you know and have learned. Feel the grass beneath your feet.

– The area around Greenpoint Stadium, Jun 2010