why record during practice? well because, make-ups...

working with one of my fav peeps today, i think i found a good analogy for practicing with recorder.  with the heavy technical and scientific emphasis on sports performance training, i often wonder why we, musicians, who are also a physical labourers, do not employ technology with similar level of enthusiasm...

i understand that there is this love of mysticism in arts. it's bit like wine critique.  though we dont really know how to quantify anything, even the basic idea of how ethanol works to get a human being drunk, we all know someone who can go off on qualitative alcohol evaluation (im guilty as well).  but you know, talking about such things as smells and tastes to describe a particular 'terroir,' one builds a set of descriptions that has not been standardized and i feel that in certain field, they would prefer keeping it that way.  bit like vodka fanatics talking about 'different tastes' of plain vodka, but vodka is supposed to have no ether or organic volatiles in the final product, just ethanol and water. there's a speculation that they may be talking about 'feel' of the vodka (as density of the brand may change the taste perception etc)...  bit like 'just play the music,' which kinda drives me insane.

so i digress. anyhow, today, i was talking that there are three things you need in your gigbag: metronome, tuner and a recorder.   she feels that  listening to recording may not be productive- aha. well, it surely can feel tedious and painful (mostly).  and i scratched my head for a bit. then came up with a new analogy.

close your eyes (what?)(please, let's try)
take your right hand, 
with index finger, touch your nose (easy)
now, touch your right ear (easy)
how bout corner of left eye (okay)
trace the curve of your chin (urrr)

so you know what your face's like, you dont need to look at it?

then, would you ever put on a stage makeup without a mirror and head out?

aha. the answer is a no.  even when we understand the structure of a piece (facial spacial map in the head) and came up with careful interpretation decisions (style of make up, how much make up, etc), one would never think about putting it on without checking the mirror-

recording is your mirror. or the closest thing. 

when you are executing, you cannot be a scribe. you are doing things.  so, whenever things get crazy and hard, do take time to do it slower, and record yourself, avoid the compound interest known as disguised practice (basically anything that really isnt practice) IF you are going to be practicing (because, noodling around is also fine option).

and her eyes lit up. her heart jumped. yay.   mine did too. 

it's not that i wanted her to do everything i say. i am not a teacher, i merely wishes to be a friend, to have a 'play.'  and because she's such a hard worker, i wanted to see if we could get more out of her efforts. and i think perhaps, this did convince the usefulness of recorder.

everyone learns differently and everyone has their own lives to live and enjoy.  however, along with the differences, we may share and be enriched. and man, her smile of agreement and curiosity made my day.  what a lucky monkey.

oh and for those of you who are bored, here's a wicked telly show on mind-training.


silly musing on sexuality

sleep. food. sex.

the basic instant three-some of gratification. it does not need to cost much and the body, conveniently, is built to enjoy all three. in the blinking lights of the cities, far-reaching technology and this silly anxiousness of 'being in-the-moment,' i think it's safe to say that the sleep is often ignored and envied.

food, well, looking at the obesity rate of countries of various economical ranking (it looks as you wont face the obesity issue only if you are too wealthy or too poor; cheap calories and instant accessibility is tying most of the population's thought to its food consumption/process/acquisition) and all the screaming matches about weight/health/style (which are three separate categories and not necessarily interconnected), it still takes the place of the king of pleasure.

sex, this makes me laugh a bit.  it is in one's face all the time, they say. i suppose it's always on somewhere in the media (traditional and social), at the same time, really, all the time?!

i can appreciate the refinement that one needs to achieve regarding sexuality from the very young age.  the fact that even the conventionally well-educated parents take part in protest against the recent ontario sex education curriculum update highlights the cultural importance of sexuality (though i thought the recent protest had more to do with power control and largely, immaturity and lack of objective research; have you seen one of those 'translated' pamphlets that went around for certain minority groups? it's almost hilarious and fictitious. though any culture that's got issues with calling a penis a 'penis' and say vagina on telly has much bigger fish to fry, i presume).

the weird thing is, however, is this singular idea of sexuality.  as a definition, sexuality should include all issues that relates to personal physical intimacy and its context in individual's philosophy.  but the way that this word is whipped around is so limited and so silly, as it is so tightly trapped under one aspect: carnal activity.

i mean, yes, it is accessible to most of the sexually-reproducing organisms and there is even dedicated pleasure sensories built into it. it is only logical that people may spend much time pursuing sexual pleasure. but looking at the typical G27 world, an alien would have no problem defining 'our goal' as species as instantaneous sexual gratification. republic of penises and vaginas and everything in-between (and not much more probably)

i read an article about 'nude' performance and how it always manages to irate the public. it is understandable that 'arts' can evoke an individual's reaction, including that related to sexuality, but seriously, is that all that art is supposed to do?

as a person who may not necessarily think of sexuality much on daily basis, this enormous concentration of attention on politic of sex is quite entertaining and though rare, enraging.

i suppose the only way of counter-action would be through non-participation in this single-focused sex obsession, though this is different than being 'against,' non-participation would mean  simply being inactive. rather than yelling at the big companies making false promises through advertisement, i often choose to bypass the media (the medium of the advertisement).  so once again, snickering from my desktop eating a hot breakfast ( ! ), i stay amused and befuddled yet again with 'sexuality.'

oh world. you are amazing.


(a creative writing exercise shortie)


it was never of my choice, to be shoved into the cold, frightening world. when the light of the day first hit my eyes, i  screamed, for the burst of air.  separated from all things that were familiar, the fear grappled with my consciousness and only thing i could see was blurry, colourless world full of shadows and foreign touches.

soon, a single familiar voice soothed my ears.  as my blood pumped through my veins, against the gravity, as my lungs filled with this foreign air full of chemical smells, i cried in mix of tears and mucus.  without much fight, i resorted into a tiredness, the kind of tiredness where deep, darkness overtakes your mind. you dont remember anything. you dont want to remember anything.  nothing is certain. how i longed for moment of peace!

next time i gained consciousness, it was another moment in time, impossible to determine to actual speed of the day, i tried to grab onto something, anything... after a sharp cry that shattered the peaceful afternoon, rush of footsteps gathered around me. i was slowly picked up...

ive been subjected to this hostile environment, without any means of clear communication... my world was full of people who completely isolated me, surrounding me with this mystery languages. i sensed their joy and laughter- but it was never inclusive...

i knew when they were ridiculing me as i lay there, defenseless, in pool of tears.

they had great wealth, more food than they could possibly eat, however, i was left at their mercy. only at the peak of my despairing screams, they gave me meager portions, fed in a way that choked me painfully.

i screamed and screamed, i wanted to be heard. but they were deaf to my words. pointing and grinning, they continued into their merry-making. not a care in the world. i was silent. my words had no power. the animal instinct and instant gratification of feeding took my consciousness deep down into the sleep. i lost the course of time one again. only to wake up in a shameful situation, in pool of my own excrement.  shocked to the core of my heart, i could not comprehend the situation.  

the humiliation of being an animal, without means to communicate.

i bowed to self, to never forget this. to pay it all back. i tightened my jaw in anger and incomprehension.  life was brutal. there was no way out.


HAHAHA just a bit of sarcastic creative writing joke for a baby' first day out in the world. many of my friends recently had kids and somewhat uneasy about another friend who tends to unintentionally glorify the past, i thought it would be a funny thing to try. happy long weekend!

oh come on, it's clearly a parody...


silly thoughts on mothers day

i am not so sure she wouldve chosen me, if she had the choice.  after all, we are bit different- yeah, some pairs are similar to one another, some differs, but my decisions usually surprise her and her decisions are rarely readily acceptable for me.  

we butt heads all the time, it became normal to simply acknowledge rather than cooperate or assimilate our differences in all-issues (THANK THE LOARD FOR THAT).

during the years, i have thought of hurting her and i have hurt her, probably more times than i would ever know. and her words have hurt me, likely to the extend we cannot exactly explain. and i have swallowed back the lovely compliments i have for her at numerous occasions, cuz im silly like that. may be she knows about it anyhow, like proper mother-daughter-jedi-mind-trick.  i ought to say bit more, there, i just created a project. ha!

we have long way to go together, if average life expectancy is a believable thing, and i am glad she is finally taking care of self to be a whole person- walking, sleeping and hopefully less worrying. 

despite of all the dysfunctions of life, it is true, that i do love her deeply and she loves me.

often the most logical solutions are not the solutions applicable.  like many things in life, we dawdle and bumble along, good and the bad. and serious amo. of 'wtfs.' after all, as monday and tuesday passes, it's all 'wtf,' every week, ha ha!

i cannot detach nor can she. it is a nice thing to be bonded properly- just like gluing things together, one make abrasion on the surfaces before applying the glue, so that the pieces will stick better together. the grooves and uneven surfaces, imperfections allowing stronger bond.

first time in many years, she's not in town for the mother's day. so here it is.

much love to mom.  thanks for the years of love as well as anger, frustration, acceptance, rejection, silent fuming and not-so-silent outbursts. it makes it real. i know we will always have our discourses and that it is normal, because you trust me to speak my mind and you also let me know what you think.

it is great to have a real relationship with mom.
thanks mom!
thanks granny!
thanks moms!

love to all the moms in the world.  just remember, whenever your kid say something infuriating, it probably means 'i love you and i want you to love me.' simple as life gets.  and yeah, i heard you right. you do love me. teehee.

*photo cred: julia wimmerlin, from national geographic