Monthly Archives: April 2011

Awesome day

Yesterday I spent my time

  • practicing violin (scales, pieces: Clog Dance, Sonata in Dm, Tyrolean Song) – 90 mins
  • designing sound for Dark Quadrant (iPad game – ‘Nanta’ alien race, pieces: War, Deception 2)
  • (Here’s the game so far)

    Here’s the music so far:

  • playing guitar in the park – Indian classical riffs, 7/8 blues, jazz standards: Fly Me to the Moon
  • stencil painting a stop-motion animation in the Dead Zone – ‘Warning Signs’ – been busy on it for a month
  • Dot Comic frame – ‘Change’ for Cuth.
  • Thank heaven for the extra time while the devils are writing exams. That’s what I call a full-on day! One day, it will be what I wake up to do. But for now, I’m thankful for the extra time. Nothing is ‘lacking’ from my life anymore. I have succeeded in keeping these flames alive. My art is blossoming. I fear creation less. I am alive.

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    Cutting My Teeth

    My first trip to the dentist in Korea. Clever wordplay huh? I’m clever huh? Please leave a comment telling me how clever I am.

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    Massive

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    Many Lifetimes

    LYRICS:

    I am scared of the future, I am worried by the past
    I have plunged into the snowmelt of this mental avalanche
    I am shaken by that bully Fear, he grabs me by the scruff
    I have waited all eternity, I have waited long enough

    I have wandered many lifetimes always trying to believe
    That the more you give the more you receive

    From this earthly slumber I fell awake by chance
    In to the heavens, ghostly figures held me in their arms
    And lift me up with whispers and cast me to the stars
    Where I’ll dwell amidst infinity, where dreams from hopes are carved

    And I’ll wander many lifetimes always trying to believe
    That the more you give the more you receive

    Show me how to be
    Again and again

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    My Girls

    Some of them.

    OK So I Really Am Free To Do Whatever I Want After All These Years Of Assuming To Know What Other Humans Were Thinking.

    Does this look like someone afraid to say what he truly thinks? Someone who avoids people because he’s afraid of being himself, afraid of having some other kid in class make fun of his habit of going to Christian Union? Does he look like someone who spends too many hours, days, months, years worrying worrying worrying about being brilliant at something? About the reaction?

    Does he look like a fellow who tiptoes around others, who wants to fit in? Does he mind too much about his fellow humans’ largely unoriginal thinking? Does he subscribe to a lifestyle of action, creativity and uniqueness or something else? Does he concern himself with regurgitated, conveyer-belt opinions by small-minded, untravelled fools? Does he have any time for those whose energy is collected by destroying the positive intentions of others through ugly criticism and cheap schadenfreude?

    The answer will come, friend, not through words. I have hated myself. Now the time begins. You post everything to Pravda because only your friends are part of it anyway, there’s no ballast at this time. You record singing songs, which will sound terrible at first, but then they’ll sound done, which is better than perfect. You’ll sing in public, hunt open mikes, spend less time fiddling with programs. You’ll carve songs from melody and harmony, not from rhythm and repetition. You’ll create something fresh, different and inspiring. You’ll shout it loud on Facebook (don’t be afraid). You’ll make sure people hit the good ones. You’ll collaborate with others more than you work on your own. You’ll take enjoyment in this whole process, for now that you’re at this time of readiness, it’s time to cast off a few more burdens. I no longer expect admonishment for screaming my own name in public.

    Some of the catchphrases you have to reprogram:

    Nobody is listening
    Who Cares
    Nothing I do matters
    My silly art project

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    Truth (Song)

    Wrote this in a parked car about 6 years ago I guess. The good ones tend to stick around.

    LYRICS:
    A young man demanded his priest for the truth
    The old man replied with an all-knowing stare
    And held underwater the head of the youth, saying
    “Battle for truth like you battle for air.”

    Battle for truth like you battle for air
    Your days on this earth are an ongoing dream
    Battle for love and you’ll find the way
    The way it’s meant to be

    Armies of answers of certainty born
    May shear in triumph the ill-fated ears
    Of listening questions, but will soon transform
    From armies and triumphs to armies of years

    And if the white wings of the angel of death
    Make this very night with their presence ablaze
    And bequeath unto me one final request, I’ll say
    “Take me away from this beautiful place.”

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