Biographical Thought Process

A number of people have commented concerning this blog, in the past few months, that it is a blog of some substance; in some way different than most of the shlock which fills cyberspace. I have taken great pride in those comments, yet...I do spend a great deal of time browsing other blogspot locations and at first I do agree with those who compliment my writing. For some reason though I have come across a thought which is rather uplifting to others and downgrading of myself. I must admit I do look with contempt on people of the most appitative constitution; those for whom everything is about satisfaction. Yet, when it comes to the cyberworld I do not think that the same can be said. It may very well be incredibly boring to read about what a person had for breakfast and what they think George Bush should do, but is my writing any different; that is, is it any less biographical. Instead of (what I consider) mundane trivialities I document the abstract development of my life of thoughts. I live in a world of thoughts, I am terribly detached from what most people consider to be the "real world", so I write them out. Instead of "toast" I might write "existential crisis". I therefore get bored and oftentimes angered at the inanities and insanities of life...

I've been writing a lot to myself lately. I kind of like that; to write on a piece of paper that no one else will see unless I chose. Anyways, once I figure out whether I actually want to communicate anything to other humans, then I will probably post more often or just stop...

Drop of Water

A thought concieved in silence-

a poem written with invisible ink,
an image captured in the eye alone,
a melody hummed with the inner vibrations of the body,
a dance found in the misplaced shuffle of a foot-

These are the clear and obfuscated somethings that we seek.

tURN phOEnIx turN

This thought comes from a poem that I was almost able to write back in January which entirely defeats the statement made by the poem. It was about how in the different seasons of the year I was either able to produce coherent and insightful thoughts and communicate them to other people and in other seasons I was not. Winter and Spring are my seasons of production whereas Fall and especially Summer seem to be marked by incredible silence. I should have been able to finish that poem in January. There is something about the scorching sun and aridity which leaves my mind empty. I have been heat stroked 3 times this week, oh how I hate earning money! All this to say that I most likely won't be writing online much this summer as I will need to use this season to retreat to my ignorant cogitation, my dark brooding, my complete mental anahiliation...

Listening

I grew up listening to classical music. That isn't entirely true. I also spent a lot of time listening to my dad's Beatles, Moody Blues, jazz...to list would be boring. The point being is that I grew up listening to relatively "old" music, i.e. classical and jazz. In fact, I was often bothered by anything with a loud bass and/or drum. I really don't know why; maybe it was my supersonic hearing that was offended by the extremes of the audiowaves. I also spent a great deal of my life playing the trumpet, classical, jazz, the same as I listened to. By the time I was in senior highschool I was listening to some alternative and more contemporary music, but I was also beginning to really understand sound. I remember playing my trumpet alone, just listening to a note. Playing with another person, listening to where the two notes met. Playing with a group, hearing the interplay between the different sounds. It wasn't always good music; it wasn't always interesting; I just liked listening to the sounds; I found harmony in the music. I also began to listen intently to progressive jazz and found a music that I could float in as if it were a river of sound, dragged down stream (or up) by flying fingers on ivory. It wasn't until after highschool that I got more serious about listening to and chosing more contemporary music. I have not moved away from my live for classical (mainly romantic era) and jazz music though. I have found that the great musicians of the 20th century have all understood the past of music. They see and understand the music that has come before them and have added on their own sound which does not contradict, but rather harmonizes with the past. The progress of music in the world mirrors the progress of notes in a song.