Three One

A day of reconciliations...?
Seem to have come in a three, like good Lahndahn buses.

Not sure that one of them bothered stopping: stuck its blinker on, I stuck me arm out, driver waved me on board, but seems to have put his foot down and trundled past anyway. Think the top deck might have been empty.

Second was a slow mover, never really left the bus stop. Pretty easy to get on and off and on again. Nice to take the regular seat by the back though. Views good through the windees.

Third was a special from far away. Not on its regular route. I knew it was coming even though I didn't know it was coming. This one came in a dream first. Weird to be dreaming of buses at all, innit. It'll pass this way again, undoubtedly. Maybe a bit unsteady on its wheels, but makes for a more exciting journey. Makes request stops only. I haven't rung that bell in a long while.

Gone Zo

HST divorcing his head from his body sinks in. As the helium-sucking Quazeh correctly states, the departure of Peely and now Dr. Gonzo removes a good chunk of our collective cultural foundation in the same few months. Mixed feelings about the latter dying by his own rules aswell as living by them and then leaving his poor sod of a son to clear up the perforated corpse. But, I guess in that state your as introverted as one can get, eh? Ta to Mr. P. for pointing us towards various obits & Steadman ramblings anyroad. (Uncle Bob said it: "sacrifice/let there be peace")

I rarely get in a photogasmic state, but yesterday in the moody light of midtown I was totally eye-smacked looking up and long. knacked neck and shutter finger sore by the end of it. while I luurve the 'natural' world, Manhattan feeds my head.

Musically, the retching continues. once seeds plant, it's all I can do to try and prevent spillage. so, open the sonic pyloric valve and up comes chord change. I rarely make myself dance as such while recording, but Drift Stones led me that way in a whirl of sweat this afternoon. It's a piece of shite really, but man is it fun to play. I broke strings and just plodded on, atonal dirge be damned. leaping around with bleeding fingers like a nutter. Let it all out, baby. More I look at Silverstar's Scream, the more I just love it. easy to spit out a response in sound, although the lyric's well open to misinterpretation, even by me. The platter is flipped for Nature Resonates. all 3 flickr influenced.

Tigers

Image and text unrelated apart from they come from the recesses of birdmind...(Has been a long time since I've produced an image and said: "wow, where did THAT come from" though).

The below part of summat found in the musty digital attic. Extract from 'A Short Trip To The U-Bend of My Mind" circa birdwhenever:

"Hidden evidence under the fig tree
Points to the pervert in your bathroom cabinet.
You can'€™t hide your cufflinks in the toaster,
And don'€™t trust that man who comes to your door with a bowl on his head who says heâ€'s your sister.
You'€™ll catch you death of cold with that ripped butterfly net.
And then locusts will eat your stereo speakers.
And wild buffalo will stampede through your living room looking for truffles.
And then you'€™ll be in half a mind to wear lycra fishing socks as protection.
And the other half of your mind will take a vacation to Hawaii without you, and leave you a sink full of washing up behind.
And before you know it, there’ll be a colony of Algerian nuns living in your basement, stealing sticks of butter out of your filing cabinet, and shaving your dog so that he looks like a dreadlock wig.
And all the other dogs will laugh at him and chase car tyres around your hall way til all hours.
And you'€™ll never sleep well.
And you’ll start taking large amounts of cheese to work with you, until you’re arrested, committed, and made to lie in this bed next to mine."


Clearly haven't progressed much mentally, then...

Eat Yer Shirt Off

Everyone & their seeing-eye-camera dog out in Central Park as predictable. One can't resist though, despite the whordes. Orange overkill really, but a visual spectacle for sure. (I did spend half my time looking up at fire escapes on the way there, but that's obtuse me.) One wonders about the cost (and the total bleeden worth of photographic equipment in the park at one time today...). Difficult to capture anything that really does justice to the whole venture. Those with large, penile-extension lenses and aircraft will have the advantage. I reverted to type and lay down in the soil, as you can see. Light was suitably accommodating.

The musical leakage continues. Have indulged in something of an experiment of concentrating in on images courtesy of the Flickr bods (not that I've asked anyone...) Has resulted in more possession and sound has flowed from my buzzing musical mind faster than I can mop it up. It's really been one, simple idea at a time, but them melodies and the essence of sound for each refuse to go away during The Moment. It's literally been a case of rushing home to capture the feel and content before it escapes. A very real fear, that escape is. I know from bitter experience that once gone is often lost forever. Even a matter of minutes can cause heartbreak.

What others think of the results here is another thing. What the lyrical content means may take a while for me to decifer too. Members of my new virtual chosen family (Sealie, Mawper, Ian, & Milkgirl, I'm looking at you) have driven and continue to drive my creative wave in new & unexpected ways. The Relative Slump over the past 1/2 year is nowt but an ugly echo now and my gratitude for your part in the current birdim/explosion knows no limit. Selks & I have spoken of word-musak collaboration which excites me to distraction. Let's hope we find the focus it deserves.

Shoulders completely forked from too much studio & laptop time. Heal me, damnit!

It's too it's too it's too obvious

Once in a very long while one truly channels something. You lose control. You become the cliched vessel. Time is absent. There isn't enough time. There's too much time. Letting it out, whatever "it" is, is merely a process of unscrewing the cap. Releasing the pressure and pointing in the right direction. Sometimes music flows from a part of the mind that is not located in the head. This happened tonight. I didn't eat. I hardly breathed. My entire being was flooded and spilled over. Time was absent. And what triggered this was an image. A photograph. A face, for god's sake. But it's more than that. It's completely abstract. I am spent. And who the hell left this song here and where in buggery did it come from?

Suck from the Box

life gets in from the box
seen from the box
the juice from the box
kids suck life
kid get suck from the box
drink
bruce lee
life kid suck from the box
drink from the box
the juice kicks up
life kid suck from the box
drink
yeeaaaaaaaahhhhh
bruce lee

(Underworld)

Flat Out on 57th Street

Manhattan has gone crisp and lit by gods.
Ye gods.
Compelled just to wander around like a gauping pavement loon staring up at the reflectives.
Ended up walking 100 blocks or more before I knew it yesterday.
Snap happy munky.

One of the joys of internet life is drive-by jingle making. Churn out a quick, stewpid song, knock on the door, leave it on the doormat, and run away. The Bunchofpants radio jingle was not meant for utility, just to induce moment-of-stress-relieving grin. Tune to her little corner of the radio play pen a week Wednesday 8-10 PM EST, 'cus the nutter just might play it :)

Moosakily, this week I are mostly going over Tomohawk Kid's beats n pieces to see if Ican construct something lucid ontop. I'm also recruiting other Flickroids and Flickrettes to contribute to this global cross-pollination as Ian aptly puts it. So, if you're reading this and you want in....

I keep brushing brains with My Kind of People on Flickr. Amazes me really. This week, megamuse Selkie has clearly shown that she not only already lives inside my own mind, but she's set up a little fort out of the sofa in there from which to jump out at passing mammals. There's also talk of a NYC Flickr debauch soon, which could be interesting...

Fretless

Fretless, indeed.

A week or two dumping my mind onto digital music tracks, stretching that musical muscle intensively again, coupled with a photo binge stimulated by the blossoming flickrthang (see below) has left me somewhat spent. I've spent wayyy too long overlaying, bouncing, tweaking, mixing, and trying to mold the rough clay into song. As often happens, you're spat out the other end like so much moosakical flotsum. Wrung out and a tad hollow. And, the worst part, totally unconvinced that the effort has produced anything that either says anything or moves anyone anywhere. Time away always heals that rift to some degree; how much only recovery will tell. For anyone interested, drafts of but some of the new sound are here and here. I warn you though...(The few of you that sent me positive words about these samples are much lovedd - you know who you are.)

Working life gets in the way, as ever. But means-to-an-end means-to-an-end means-to-an-end: the usual mantra. Fnucknuttery doesn't help though, does it?

birdw0rks related: Bunchofpants, gawdblesser, a flickrette of the highest order had planned on playing That Daft Song tonight on air on her Duke college radio station show. I had to feel for her. Having tuned in, RIGHT at the right moment, as it happened, the poor woman sounded to be on the edge of tears as technical beasties were ruining her day. so, if you know her, send her M&Ms, send her tulips, anything, 'cus she had a rough hour or so there by the sound of it.

The Flickr addiction has definitely kicked in . I'm not one for spending long on any web community sites really, but Flickrland is definitely a different beast. Made, essentially by the varied and creative and lively people inhabiting it's landscape. Most splendid overall, and a real steep learning curve in terms of improving my limited photography skills. Four Flickrheads need special mention: Tomohawk's Kid, who I've defintely got shared musical grounding with aswell as visual tastes; the warped sisters: Emdot and Awfulsara, both of which are as absolutely soulmate as it gets based on the limited data cyber interaction allows (and bizarrely, both living in the same street in CA - unbeknownst to me until v. recently), and ArtAsciiPaul, a mad Brit who does the same bitter-and-twisted-with-humour that my genes force me into. Looking at any of those 4's images online will never disappoint and always amuse, but its the personalities that keep you going back. And there are many more faves, of course.