random pictures

in an effort to be outdoors more often, i’ve taken to the idea of spending an entire day photographing anything and everything. in two outings with thomas, these are three of my favorite pictures.

in the land of “gracious” living

felled tree

MK

did i already say that i was in love with annie clark from st. vincent?

no?  ok, then i just said it.   marry me

drunk munchies are so counter-productive.

where is my mind? (certainly not here)

for days i sat speechless in front of my desk.  i lost something and had just realized it.  at first, curious, that i should feel, rather than think something missing.  then frustrated, furious even, to not know exactly what it was.  then, a sort of sad, helpless resignation that it couldn’t be bothered.   what a vague, semantic mess.  like a rolling coin running its course, i went in circles. . . going nowhere. . . lost sense. . . i came to a stop.

free rice

just completely stole this from bearsuits’ blog, but its for a good cause.

basically, you are given a word and you must identify its meaning among four choices.  for each word you get right,  free rice, through an international organization, will donate ten grains of rice to a hungry person.  there isn’t any registration required.  it’s so easy.  plus, you learn new words.

i think i’m in love

st. vincent – “now, now”

charlie prince

new song up on our myspace. yep, we have a myspace. the song was inspired by ben foster’s character in the remake of 3:10 to yuma. charlie prince was bad ass in that movie so naturally, we had to write a song about him. to charlie, that thug.

i’ll have the song up on my music page soon as well.

a night of experimental music*

last night my cousin, jen hung, performed at the occca with her band mate, halfmonk(g.e. stinson). this was in support of the experimental concert series that is now entering its fifteenth installment. the artwork on display and the calming open space of the gallery created a great atmosphere to hear some live music. all three bands performed in front of a film projector. limbic and guppies, the other two bands, played in front of a film reel put together by artist and the concert series’ curator, stephen anderson. the short film consisted mostly of what appeared to be life in 1940s america. g.e. put together his own visual media for their set which was at times, roschach-esque. in essence, two experiments were taking place; the nature of the music being performed, and that same music performed in conjunction with visual media. it was interesting to see your view and feelings of each neutral image change or not change depending on the music.

first up was limbic. limbic’s music is a mixture of heavy distortion, loops, and manipulated sounds by way, i’m assuming, of an effects pedal. there were nice moments when their sonic youth influence really shined through, and better ones still when the projected images matched the music to a blissful harmony. another highlight of the show was their lion dance inspired song who’s name i cannot recall. my cousin and i were getting a beer. i was distracted. great to see the band salute their chinese-american heritage.

the next band was guppies. i had some problems with guppies. the lead singer’s irritating voice reminded me a bit of peter from peter bjorn and john with the important distinction being that, as my friend put, “peter bjorn and john are fucking awesome and these guys aren’t.” they were boring and embarrassingly ended their set by collapsing in a heap and tussled for position in front of their neighboring amps. they were probably displaying the male behaviors of guppies. all the same, it begged the reaction, “wtf?!” the biggest problem, however, was the fact that they were not in any way experimental*. expectations are a bitch and boy, did they bite. i suspect that i would have thought them ok if i didn’t expect experimental music at an experimental concert. but hey, when you’re a band trying to make it, i’m sure i would take any and every gig available.

last to perform was halfmonk and jen hung, and they truly “put the experimental back into experimental.” this genre of music is such a hard sell because there isn’t anything to wrap your head around. if you’re looking for instant gratification–a catchy hook or beat, a beautiful melody–you won’t find it here. instead you’ll find something more muddled and baffling, with labels of ‘good’ or ‘bad’ elusive, if not impossible, judgments. there were some personal highlights, such as when g.e. switched to his cherry red 12-string guitar and when jen would speak with her beautiful voice. i also enjoyed the use of a wide range of objects to produce such strange sounds, objects which included a spring reverb microphone and mini push-pen fan.

the great thing about experimental music is the outside-the-box thinking required of both the artist and the audience. the experience is thought-provoking in that, as the audience, you wonder why each sound is being produced in such random frequencies. you begin to ponder its meaning, if the sounds are produced just for the sake of it. its also fascinating to see what you find yourself thinking about. whether deliberate or impromptu in nature, experiencing experimental music is alienating, but has the artist and the audience digging through the layers in the ultimate goal of re-connecting, of reaching some sort of common ground. and that is a truly human endeavor.

when jen introduced us to stephen anderson, she gave us a mini-biography. in that biography she mentioned his ambition to start the experimental music scene in orange county. in a place as screwed up as this, stuck in that proverbial bubble, i hope he’s successful, because god knows that we need to be pushed outside of ourselves time to time, and take a look around. cheers, to stephen anderson. and kudos to halfmonk and my awesome cousin.

hungry ghosts and how to save the world

i recently switched allegiance to wordpress, making me a blogger ex-pat. i was chatting with thomas and he said “easier” while describing wordpress. i was sold immediately.

as you can see, the new blog is called hungry ghosts. i first heard of the term while taking a japanese ghosts class with thomas (i suppose i owe the new blog and the name to him).

if my memory serves me, in buddhism, hungry ghosts refer to people who led selfish, spiritual-less lives in want of meaning or significance. because of a wasted life, such people return as hungry ghosts as pictured above. their appearance is certainly disconcerting; seemingly decaying skin and enlarged bellies juxtaposed to pencil thin necks. oh and they also look like monsters. because of its gravely reduced size, a hungry ghost’s throat cannot accommodate succulent morsels of food (such as french fries or the goodness that is dim sum, for example) without an extreme sensation of pain. maybe that wouldn’t be such a horrible thing if not for the curse of an insatiable hunger. what a fate! to yearn for that which you indulged in long after you have died, and never to truly understand what was needed in the first place.

the other time i heard the term was from a wolf parade song called ‘”dear sons and daughters of hungry ghosts”. despite these two references, i do not have a ‘hungry ghost obsession.’ i don’t particularly have an urge to save people from this fate or to save the world, which finally brings me to my next topic.

loose transition aside, i wanted to briefly mention the novel Ishmael by daniel quinn. within its pages, you and the protagonist learn how to save the world. at the very least, it’s well written and engaging, philosophical and historically re-interpretative (c’mon i just made up a word). anyway, there’s also a talking gorilla (sort of). in short, i recommend this book.

(grammar police, is it ‘a’ or ‘an’ before words beginning with ‘h’?).

can’t fucking sleep

i have the urge to go on walks sometimes late at night. i don’t know what it is about the nightfall that incites me to roam the empty streets of my neighborhood. perhaps precisely because they are empty. perhaps because they provide a circuitous escape from the confines of my house, an exchange of the dust resting on my window sill for the free-floating speckles of dirt that have yet to vex it. perhaps more accurately so, to stretch the legs of ideas that run rampant in my mind, that like the dust, vex it. let them run their course so i may lay them, and myself, to rest.

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goodnight