mewithoutYou

I suppose I should provide some kind of update:

at mewithoutYou I left my fuckin tickie in my fuckin jackie. I had to run in below Celsius plus wind chill weather across the worlds longest parking lot, cross parallel to another two parking lots, until I finally found the car, and yes, my jacket had the ticket, and golly, why not put it on while I'm here? And in answer to your probing questions, yes, I had to hug my jacket away from thieving scensters (it wasn't really that kind I was worried too much about, just the small minority groups) for the remainder of the concert.

their hand-dryers are freakin-somethin-else.

popcorn smelled great.

nobody else was dancing to Thrice but that's ok, I probably looked pretty funny swaying while I hugged my winter jacket and various luggages, which kept me from standing on my tiptoes in the "pit" with a bunch of tall sweaty guys with absolutely no inclination to mosh vertically, much less horizantally (I should not have to attach those descriptives afterwards. mosh in an unpure form....). As you've probably guesses, I'm going to lament that to the end of my days....

Aaron has the best way of singing.

deh neh neh neh neh.. "Whoo!"

let's here it for 'wock and roll.

As I sit here "studying" for my harmony exam (sonata-allegro form. And I thought I was finished with classical forms) this is possibly the only thing that keeps me from sanity (that and, Toots and the Maytals, mostly because they just came on my shuffle... on that note, I'm thinking of streamlining my music collection, taking off the albums that I already have hard-copies of ..the legal kind.. and therefor, maybe improve the performance of this lousy PC. Then again. How about the dozens of GBs of photos...)

The Refused.. their mission statement leaves you dumbfounded. But first, laughing. Is this band for real? (the refused are for freaking real) Music. And Life. "Art as a real threat". Imagine Atari Teenage Riot and politics on the dance floor. Even the gods of the classical era ceded that music is never pure- is art just paint and fabric? is life? thank God for the 90s, which churned out the cream of the underground.
and then it hits you, and not in the way that words sometimes hit you, but in the way that someone might hit you with a painted canvas and leave you stunned, but not in pain. the music, the politics, the crazy screaming that puts your spleen in a vice and makes you want to charge into a mob of angry people and beat the crap out of everything for nothing; it's not just another genre, sub-"culture", or object of study. This is their life.

No wonder they were so good at making you feel.

Wiolins, wiolins, and more..!

Yesterday we went to the Sound Post (Canadian and slightly-over priced as it may be) and selected two violins for trial period.
The first, Matt (the guy who usually helps us) said we should be profoundly interested in (not those exact words, but pretty darn close). It's a German violin, made this year, by a man named Bonsch. Apparently, he doesn't usually sell under some certain conditions- I fail to recall what they were- but the Sound Post is special and got a few of them in. Point taken; we're lucky, sound post reigns supreme, we pledge allegiance, &co &co. (I love tSP, really, and I love their selection of wiolins, and their staff are really quite friendly, and hold an infinitious cup to the knowledge of the staff of Long & McQuade. But. Pretty much anyone does.
The second violin was just found in their workshop and one of the co-owners happened to be stringing it, whether or not it was for us, and suggested we try it out (talk about service. I wouldn't have thought to go searching through wood shavings to look for a violin I'd be forced to string on the spot.) This violin was also German made, by a Wilhelm Thomas Laura. They bought it at an auction, though they spent more on it than they're actually getting back, due to the required repairs. It was made in 1912. And it's German, which I am really liking. (I'm sensing a tendency towards German violins and Aryan philosophy. Lately, all good things come from Germany)

Violin one had an appealing sound at first. In fact, the vibrations seemed to permeate the entire room so that your fillers would rattle.. not that I HAVE fillers.. or at the very least, your eardrum, which I suppose isn't the BEST thing? Playing in the lower positions on this violin is perfect, especially on the G String. However, as I start to move up, I find like a lot of it's promise kind of disappears. Not to mention, the sound actually comes out as being constricted at some points.

The second violin, which is really the point of comparison to the first, has a huge ringing quality- I almost wonder, too much? When doing string crossings (Bach unaccompanied style) on the lower strings, I sensed a lot of ringing Gs that I didn't appreciate. Hopefully they can alter or change the bridge to fix that, as I feel that the strings are very close together. At least a fifth of a mm :p. In comparison to the other violin, however, the sound volume makes no qualms about getting out there; all the strings are ringing, and the sound quality itself is actually quite pleasant for classical and baroque pieces. Brahms sounds all right, but I haven't played enough romantic pieces to get a good grip on it's..er.. sap quality? This one is 3,300... compared to the first one, at 4,500. I'm worried that 3,300 isn't enough to spend. Because the German violin maker doesn't have any history or background, they couldn't mark up the price reasonably.

What would Jerzcy say? Pft. What is he, God?

I said wiolins and more, so here's the rest:

More..!

Movies: Absurdity

I was just thinking about film companies. I've usually had trouble saying "this company is pretty much guaranteed to offer GOOD films", or "this company is crap". That was before I discovered TH!NK films. TH!NK? I TH!NK not.
There are two options: 1) either their films are just too far above me in their deep spiritual content and social commentary OR 2) they think a shot or two of voyeurism is healthy for the sinews, and also makes you... "TH!INK". Not likely. I didn't think I'd ever see a film with Edward Norton that -didn't- make me think, until Down in the Valley. I see no point in the films other than the directors desire to trash any good mood or sense of security you might have had- which makes sense, considering that indie films and western comfort and consumerism MUST be in direct combat.

So if you ever TH!NK about watching one of their films. TH!NK again.

(I apologize deeply for the cheesiness. haw haw.)

on a brighter note, I watched Rudy again today. It depresses me that they play the most exciting orchestral parts when Rudy ISN'T playing, but when he finally gets on the field, it seems like, I dunno, a bit of a let-down. Then again, compared to the part where Rudy comes back to the football practice, anything is a let down. (And yes, I'm still trying to eradicate associations with Angels in the Outfield and that score.)

Now I'm going to pull something out of my repertoire and practice like I'm supposed to be. But this snow makes me feel like reading Tolkien and eating gingerbread. I'll settle for Mozart and coffee.

getting my life in order is one "F-ed" up business..

I got an urge to run around the basement jumping from pieces of furniture to... other pieces of furniture. Carrying out the urge lasted about 3 minutes, after which I did stretches on the ground. Or tried. My lungs blazed and my heart throbbed... ok, so it was a bad day. But more and more my days become like that. My body is unfit and so my mind follows. I think it can explain, in part, my recent bouts of quasi-depression.
Unlike a lot of music followers, I can't find significant reasoning to resort to Eastern mysticism and holistic medicine (well... some) in order to put the pieces of my health into something resemblant of "good". (that's a long way of saying "good health")

I tend to abuse things that take maintenance. I dislike maintenance. I don't mind talking about it. It's like prayer. But if it's a full-time commitment, "I'd rather not".

Another thing that's buggering the hell out of me is my practice time. A) I have a harmony exam coming up in a few weeks... I $#@%ing hate diminished 7ths. B) I have no immediate deadlines for violin and I'm developing a parent-child relationship with my teacher, so naturally, I tend to disagree with her. C) Time flies like a banana, or so the pun doesn't go. I don't have enough time in my day and I have to stop realizing it and do something about it. Me being the undisciplined person that I am... I don't foresee this happening. I begrudge the days where I am so busy I haven't the time to practice, and I despise the days where I have all day to practice until 4:30. I hate having to set time limits. And the truth is, somehow, I'm unable to fit three hours of practice into ANY of these days. I'm lucky if I get one hour. My other problem is on the days where I have actually got time to do what I WANT to do, I take what I want to do out of hand. = I'm just being a bitch, and if I really wanted to get my life in order I'd spend time praying about it every morning and then make myself into a freaking GOD and do everything right.

At this stage, I hate being human and alive and flawed. (All that seems rather unnecessary beside being "human")

I've started a violin journal, by the way. Maybe I can record how effing mad it makes me that my students don't freaking do what I say when I'm there. And they do the opposite of what I say when I'm gone, I'm sure... God, if I have to pray for all my students (yes. prayers is a gargantuan commitment, and I am the equivalent of a negative atom to a positive commitment)

I... am going to listen to old school Jars of Clay, in abstract hope that it'll draw me from my... vast inner turmoil.

Swift to Fly

taking a cue from Avery...
Stranger In This World- Azam Ali
I have dust under my eyelids.

Everything I see is dust.
The rent ground and electrocuted trees at my feet compose a landscape of dirt, and it is all dust in the air.

I have to change my life, to change my destiny. All my family has walked these desert paths: since the first child was born, since the first mother died.
The tread of their footprints would have worn a trench a thousand fathoms deep, if not for the shifting dust.
waves and billows; of dead trees that turn to dust with the rushing brush of air.
The path is the same underneath.
But the dust..
The dust is new every morning.

I have to change my life. But the counselors have decided. The dust will always stay. The dust hunts me and teaches me the way of the hunted.

"G-hey"!

*scratchy silent-film music*
To This "Giverny":

Moo ha. ha. ha. I have successfully obscured my intent for all these years where it has been gloriously revealed on a hacked blog of some cretinous dunce.

Th'End.

I haven't been hiding the pictures, in fact, I didn't even know I HAD them. In a sense, I didn't. They belong to my parents' mission trip in China in the 70s--- after the purging. Apparently Led Zeppelin had the 70s, as well as mission trips to communist countries.
I call this "China Bowl". Get it? Haw Haw.

My Dad the tourist. "Hey, you! Take a picture of me with all these Asians so people will know I actually was here!" (or, there's always a backdrop of the great wall of China)

Sadly, most of them were relatively un-salvageable.

of water running and confusing times

Titles. They're really quite pointless. But that's one invention we can't blame on Judaism.

I'm convinced it's possible to be in the world but not of it, but also, in the world and being ...no where, really.

As Christians, several excuses arise as to why this world isn't our problem. 1) eternity... and that's all of the "several excuses".
Also, because of a pre-destined will of God. Since God has everything written out in His book already, there is little to no reason why we should intercede or petition for ourselves.
Take 1 Peter, for instance. If someone is already chosen by God, and has been chosen by God since the beginning of time, then there's nothing our prayers or witnessing are going to do that could help the process. (And it could work both ways- there's nothing our public sins could do to discourage them from following Christ)

However, we know that's not true- the affect isn't true, at least, though the theology behind being chosen by God is. Right? This is all fairly elementary, of course, and any of us who have acknowledged hopelessness in our thoughts have had to deal with that temptation.

And that's just what it is- a temptation to sway us from prayer and witnessing.

The interesting thing I'm discovering as we continue our bible study on prayer-- satan doesn't worry to tempt us so much about sinful thoughts, waste of time, violent actions, and the like. If he were to delegate his demon legions out for different tasks, I'm pretty sure he'd appoint the "lesser demons"... where is my folksy knowledge when I need it. But the things that we who strive to love Jesus "want" to do- spend time in prayer, reading the bible, meditation, witnessing- Satan tries his hardest to pull us away from those things.

So, as with everything, being in the world, but not of it... that's hardly black and white. we can be in the world, not of it, and still not growing any closer to Christ. Most often the snares that catch my feet are the things I presume will help me in my Christ/child relationship- this, for example: thinking and philosophizing and analyzing. Whereas quiet... and emphasis on quiet, what with all the music and media that goes on in my head... time in prayer and meditation on his word (a rather black and white philosophy in itself) goes a lot farther for preparing me in the day.

Because, the truth is, at the beginning and the end of the day, my accomplishments rarely make me feel better than my wastes of time. Maybe... the specifically Buddhist practice of meditation can be partially applicable in the Christian faith, but not to the point where we clear our minds of all things. Maybe just until the face of God is all we see.

Music- Seizure

I never, ever thought this would happen but... I'm sick of music.

Is it possible that I've been so exposed and over-exposed and over-immersed and I should say "obsessed" that I'm completely swinging the other way? On the other hand, this could be one of those "Signs of Depression", when your "loved one" starts to care very little about their formerly "favourite past-times". Nah. This is for real. I'm sick to death.

What brought on this unlikely demise? Has it been developing since I first discovered I liked music? Or maybe it was when I decided to branch away from my parents music choices and find my own. Or, on the other hand, maybe it was when I started to discover really good music, western and eastern, and just kept digging a tunnel to the very core of music and the arts.

Or this could be a one-day-depression spree and I'm just really not fond of it right now.

But as for my beef with music, I do have some eclectic music choices and I can no longer tell if it's drawing me closer or farther.. to and from God. Naturally, worship "music" isn't going to count here.

I have an obsessive nature, otherwise known as the human idolatrous nature, and I definitely have issues with making an idol of music. After all, it's basically how I spend my recreational time. I used to think of myself as being rather well rounded. Well SURE I have rounded music tastes, but if all I do, think, say is music... well, I ought as well admit it. My life sucks and not because of any circumstances forced upon me, but because I decided to drown myself in a wasteland of music.

That makes very little sense.

I wish I could help people understand.. I can't listen to music without dissecting it; musically, historically, personally, culturally... rarely spiritually, but if it is, it's usually in a condemning, self-righteous manner.

So I should like nothing better than to turn off the music and focus wholly on God, but what do I have? I have music education and nothing else right now. I should probably try jogging, see how it feels to have the wind in my ears and the cracking of my joints... right.

apparently peace passed by understanding without waving.

We watched Miranda and Miranda last night, two stories told once as a comedy, and once as a tragedy. The idea was to convey that one story has both comic and tragic elements. It failed miserably, because it was one of those movies that didn't actually make collective SENSE, by which I don't mean common "sense" but logical "sense". Ultimately, both the stories were tragedies. (Hah. But, they really were)

Movies are meant to evoke our emotions, have us cheer when the bad guy "gets dead", or cry when the child dies, or sundry other tragic elements take place... the truth is, artists have us almost completely in their hands with movies.

Running through a list of different art forms, we have cinema, visual art, music, and literature. Science, as we know it, is not an art. It is research. Not an actual act of creation.

Music we hear, but do not see. Literature, we tend to feel most profoundly. It is, after all, a more obvious form of "conveying". Visual art excites our pupils... unless it happens to be minimalist abstract. But movies take all these, hear, sight, and storyline, and have control of almost all our senses. ("Touch" is left so that we may adequately feel the sinking of the couch cushions, and "taste"... well, popcorn, of course) Is that dangerous?

I couldn't cheer for the comedy because in the end, the characters got what they wanted, but the history of the romantic couple told me that they wouldn't last, not even in bed. Why is it that people tend to think their partner is disposable, like an Ikea lamp. (Why are you crying for this lamp? The new one is much better!) Of course, that's humanity. But sometimes we give ourselves over to humanity, especially in the form of movies. I tend to be of the liberal thinking that all art is good. I mean, look at the damn word: "art". It just screams "goodness".
And maybe the movie was right, and that it depends on who's perceiving the art.

As for me, it's a constant struggle to "feel out" what God wants. Anesthetized-Christian art seems to be inappropriate, if there is such a thing. God clearly created darkness beside the light.
That movie didn't reflect what God wanted in a marriage, which is what we tend to take away. The obvious thematic elements. (For that reason, I appreciate movies with abstract plot-lines and too many elements too count. After all, certain movies tend to force their ideals on you more than others.)

All this to say, art seems to be one of those things completely without a Christian structure to "reduce" it with. There are only Biblical guidelines of whatever is righteous, pure, &co, to -think- on these things. Does that imply not exposing ourselves to controversial, at least to our faith, elements?


I shall, of course, go get something useful done, now that I've discovered that there is nothing to discover in philosophizing. Enjoy art, both the painful kind and the beautiful kind, and attach a "God is love" sticker to every piece.


Hey... what the hell is "culturally appropriate" anyway? Aesthetics.

an occasion to celebrate, indeed

twice in a week have I succumbed to conform-ation. i lay my sainthood to rest.


...well... msn's blog just was truly not doing it for me.