Alvin Lee

There's this really good video of Ten Years After doing their unique version of the classic song Good Morning Little Schoolgirl on YouTube (just watch it, it's great). I've been learning [this version of] this song, and I was hoping to get some hints on how to do the solo, which I'm pretty helpless about. I'm not good at picking things up strictly by ear (one of the primary reasons I've never considered myself a real musician), and I have a hard time working things out just by watching someone play, unless I can get a good look at what they're doing (and they're not going too fast). Unfortunately, live videos, as great as they are, aren't real good for musicians trying to pick out their individual parts. It would be boring if the camera just focused on the guitarist's fretboard, but if you want to figure out what he's playing, it doesn't help looking at his face, or at the drummer, or what the bass guitarist is playing.

Anyway, the performance of the song I linked above is nice and tasty. It's crisp, and concise. Alvin Lee is often criticized for "noodling", although noodling has always been a good thing in my book. There's a difference between noodling and meandering, by the way. The Grateful Dead meanders. Alvin Lee noodles. Granted, if you're not a big fan of the electric guitar (gasp!) I can imagine it getting kind of boring. Like those dragging drum solos (although I think I at least enjoy them more than the average listener, maybe because I'm a musician, even if not a drummer). But to me, a huge fan of electric guitar, I think noodling is exciting.

Still, it's hard to copy. It's a hell of a lot to tab out, and as much [deserved] respect Alvin Lee gets as a guitarist and among guitarists (and enlightened rock fans), he and the great band Ten Years After are not super popular, and tabs are sparse. Of course, you could take an Alvin Lee solo from the perspective (as "real" musicians undoubtedly do) of an improvisation in a certain key (or scale or whatever), in the Alvin Lee "style". Every [good] guitarist has their unique style, which, in the context of guitar solos, generally indicates certain types of licks that come up often. The more guitar solos I'm learning, the more I'm coming to understand this, and it's quite fascinating. Alvin definitely has his style, and I've learned some of those licks off of the tab of the intro to I'm Going Home that I scrounged up a while back.

But still, I'm not real keen on improvising a bunch of semi-accurate licks. If I was a much better player, and could pull it off impressively, I'd do it, but I'm not. At this point, it's akin to the ever-popular "hand-waving" technique in physics lectures. That's where you sort-of-explain a concept in vague terms because you don't really understand it yourself, but it's just enough to fool the people you're explaining it to. That's what it would be like to fake my way through a solo well enough to trick people into thinking it was effective. But it still wouldn't be on the level of an Alvin Lee solo. And I'm not interested in tricking people, I'm interested in getting better and learning how to play as well as the players I admire.

Coming back, yet again, to the video I linked above, what's nice about it is that - although I'm not bothered with noodling to start with - it is, as I said, concise. It's robust, and it's got everything it needs, including a nice 2:30 long solo, but it doesn't really have anything extraneous tossed in. And the solo just sounds great. It doesn't drag at all, it's just one melodic lick after another. And those are the licks I really want to learn. That's the kind of solo I'd love to be able to play on that song. Just like Alvin himself.

I don't know if there's even any chance of me figuring out what he's playing there. But I really want to.

Joe Bonamassa - Live From The Royal Albert Hall

Joe Bonamassa's Live From The Royal Albert Hall concert DVD would be an interesting watch even if it was a mediocre show. But this is Joe Bonamassa, one of the greatest guitarists living, and the best of his generation. And this is a fantastic show. But beyond the surface of whether or not the performances are captivating (and they are), is the meaning behind this show. Joe Bonamassa's Royal Albert Hall performance was 20 years in the making - his own personal dream and goal for himself, ever since watching Cream's original farewell concert played there in 1968 - and it shows both in the way this DVD is presented, and in the performances themselves.

Regardless of what raw talent he has (which is undeniable, given that he was opening for B.B. King at the ripe young age of 12), Joe presents himself as the working man of today's blues rock scene, and there's no denying the effort he's put in - honing his craft, garnering a fan base, and slowly climbing the ladder of stardom. This performance at the Royal Albert Hall represents his dream come true, and when he plays to that crowd, you can really feel the payoff.

The nervousness is palpable as the camera tracks Joe's advance to the stage at the beginning of the concert. In the first song, I heard the first bum note I have ever heard Joe play - but the rest of the night was flawless. And when the legend himself, Eric Clapton, finally joins the stage, I felt like that was me up there in Joe's place, after 20 years of effort, finally having a chance to trade licks with God.

Joe Bonamassa is truly an inspiration, not just in the music he plays, but in his approach to that music, and life in general. It's almost enough to make me believe that even I could one day play the Royal Albert Hall (or the Budokan, or the Madison Square Garden, where Led Zeppelin played the performance that first inspired me to pick up the guitar), if only I work my ass off for twenty years. I don't quite believe it, but I almost do. I want to.


Highlights of the first half of the show include the solo in So Many Roads, which Joe really gets into; trading licks with Clapton, which I mentioned above; and, of course, Sloe Gin, which opens real quiet with piano, followed by a somber guitar lead. Joe's wearing a nice suit at the open of the show, but after his duet with Clapton, and just before Sloe Gin, he switches to a black shirt, becoming the man in black. As an aside, I love that all black look, and the sunglasses only add to it.

Joe loosens up in the second half, playing some truly great leads. Paul Jones plays harp on Your Funeral My Trial. The highly polished finesse of Blues Deluxe here - which I love in rougher versions - actually sounds really good. Joe dons a sparkly strapped Flying V (I've got to get a strap like that) for the set-closing Just Got Paid - Zeppelin jam included. And for the encore, we get the beautiful Mountain Time, the intro to which I noted was reminiscent (in structure if not strictly content) of Jimmy Page's White Summer showcase, followed by the also beautiful Asking Around For You, which despite its religious overtones ("if I ever get to heaven"), still manages to get to me.

"Thank you, London, for making this the greatest night of my life."


The bonus interview included on the DVD with Joe in a bus (a snazzy tour bus, not a city bus) is enlightening, and really showcases the depth and breadth of Joe's talent. He talks about a handful of his songs - mostly from the Ballad of John Henry album - both lyrically and musically, delving into his influences and giving impromptu demonstrations on guitar. It's impossible not to be impressed by both the physical talent at playing guitar, and the mental ability to understand music, that this man possesses. Truly inspiring.

I recommend this DVD highly.

Gradiation

As my friend reflected to me yesterday (at least I think it was yesterday...), it's been two years now since I graduated from college. That means I'm entering my third year as a ronin...er, NEET. In other words, I'm a failure of a human being. Well, at least as far as society is concerned (and believe me, the feeling is mutual). So why is it so hard for me to "get a life"?

Supposedly, high school prepares you for college, and as far as I could tell, college prepares you for graduate school. So how do you get prepared for the real world? I would have gone to graduate school, but my aptitude for the sciences, which I had been training in, tapered off. I'm still not sure if it's simply a matter of losing interest, or if my mental faculties have in some way been compromised, but nowadays I don't even want to think about a math problem - and I used to enjoy them so much!

We could go into why this happened, but the reasons are many, and not very clear. Part of it has to do with grinding mindlessly through pages-long equations, with little perspective. Part of it has to do with the realization that studying science will not lead to finding the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything. (And if you tell me the answer is forty-two, I'll smack you). And part of it has to do with meeting a girl so much smarter than me, that I figured if I was struggling through problems she could manage with ease, then there was no point in me being a scientist as long as people like her were around.

So I decided to focus on a more creative subject, where I could make contributions without being the best in the field. I turned to my hobby, playing guitar. I graduated college with no plans for the future ahead, except the vague idea that I was gonna learn to play well enough to get by. Maybe start a band, maybe join a band, but ultimately, hopefully, to play some gigs and make some money doing something I enjoy.

A year ago, I had resolved to complete my first real album of original compositions, but when the first year anniversary of my college graduation rolled around, I was far from finished writing and recording the material planned for the album. It was exciting at first, trying to record my songs, but it eventually became very dull working in the studio, and I completely lost interest in wrestling with trying to record a good track. I enjoy playing the guitar, but I don't even have the motivation to pick it up every day, which is really something I should do if I plan on being a guitarist. Put another check in the "failure" column.

The real problem here is my inability to interact with the world around me. Specifically, the human part. I feel woefully inept at wedging my way into the world, with no confidence to strike out on my own. And yet, I'm terribly fearful and generally clueless when it comes to reaching out for help. On the one hand, there seems to be a focus on independence - relying on one's own strengths to make it in the world and do what needs to be done. I do not have this quality. On the other hand, there's a concession for getting by "with a little help from my friends". Power of love and friendship, and all that. But I'm not good with people, and I don't have a support network. Think of all those tv shows and movies where the hero derives his strength from his friends to win the day. What about the lonely guy sitting in the alley? How can you expect him to be a hero?

Rock N Roll Fantasy

There's nothing else in the world that I want more than to be a performing musician. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but I want to be a performing musician as much as I want anything else in life, and I know that my life would have so much more satisfaction and meaning if I were to accomplish that one thing. But there are certain conditions, like being in a band, being able to play the kind of stuff I want to play (in terms of convincing the band as well as concerning my own abilities), and having some kind of an audience that digs the show.

I saw a Led Zeppelin cover band tonight. It was the first real rock show I'd been to since last summer. And I was reminded how great live music is. But being in the audience is one thing. I love getting to see and hear the music being played right in front of me, but I'm not really thrilled about the standing (or sitting) in a crowd of strangers drunk and high, partying to the soundtrack. When I see bands play live, I'm there to observe the show, not to get down and party. I listen to the music - I don't talk to my buds. And I follow most of the notes and changes. Because I'm not just a music fan. I'm a musician.

I want to be up on that stage. I want to be playing the music. I want to be creating the music, not just listening to it. I enjoy listening to it, but I don't feel like I'm in the right place when I'm standing in the crowd. I belong on the stage, wearing that guitar. And that's exactly what I want so bad. Playing music is a hard business - some bands make ridiculous loads of money, while the majority struggle to make ends meet. But playing music is both a lifestyle as well as a vocation. It's a lifestyle that I want to be a part of, and it's one of the few vocations that I consider desirable to me. It should be the answer to my problems. I'd kill to be a musician, even if it meant having a hard life, as long as I could get up on that stage and play.

So what's stopping me? I can't play. I say that, but I could call up a lifeline of people who would profess just the opposite. But it doesn't matter so much to me whether other people think I can play. What matters is that when I pick up the guitar, I can't make my fingers create the noise I want to hear. I consistently get comments from people who hear me play noise at the den that my performance is mind-blowing, and that's great to hear. But the truth is, I play noise because I can't seem to play notes right. I like that I'm doing something different, that opens people's minds to what kind of sounds can come from a guitar, and I think it sounds great sometimes. But it's my Plan B. I play it because I don't know how to play a searing blues solo. And I don't have the chops to win over an audience traditionally without an accompanying band. Or maybe I just don't want to. There are certain kinds of things I can accept playing by myself, but there are other things that I just don't want to bother with without the right elements of accompaniment. I don't want to play a stripped down version of this or that song. I want to rock people's fucking socks off. With rumbling bass, thundering drums, and wailing vocals, behind my searing guitar lead.

I don't know how to play with people. I've never learned how to accompany another musician, and I never really get the chance to practice. Somebody suggests, "you should jam together", and I'm like, okay, what the hell am I supposed to play? I don't know shit about scales and theory and modes and whatever the hell else. I don't know how to accompany a person's distinct style. All I know how to play is the stuff I play. And it may or may not sound good against the stuff you play. People think I'm a great guitarist, and they're surprised when I tell them that I'm intimidated by the thought of jamming with them, because I feel like I won't be able to live up to their playing - and here they think I'm better than they are!

People say I'm modest, and they say I've got the wrong standards, and they say all kinds of things to try to convince me that I'm good, but the bottom line is, when I pick up a guitar, I can't play what or how I want to play. I guess I have to get lessons or something. But fuck that. I don't want to deal with other people.

Finally, after 5 years of not once using the credit card I inadvertently signed up for (because some business-jerk started asking me questions on the phone before I knew what was happening), they're finally gonna close my account. 5 years of annoying notices, but at least I didn't have to talk to anyone.

College Memories (2)

Initiation/Orientation

I remember sitting in the van, with everything packed up, driving out, up the street, away from the house I had lived in for 12 years or so, heading toward the interstate, unimaginably excited about the journey I was embarking on. My dad was at the wheel. We were listening to RRK, and whether by fate or irony, the song Point Of Know Return by Kansas played. I knew that I was making a huge step in my life, and that from here there'd be no turning back.

We listened to Neil Young's Decade on the trip up. I saw visions of demons and angels in my head, during the instrumental portions of Cowgirl In The Sand. When we arrived in Lewisburg, it was getting late. We checked into the hotel we were staying at overnight, before the big day, and then tried to drive in to get a glimpse of the campus. We made it to Market St., and when my dad asked the guy at La Casa De Pizza where the campus was, he said it was just another block or two in that direction. We were confused, as we didn't know the area too well, but we got some pizza and took it back to the hotel. By this time, it was full-on dark. I remember eating that pizza in the hotel room, watching some Conan The Barbarian movie on television for a little bit, then listening to the radio on my portable system, trying to find which stations were good in this town, before finally getting to sleep.

In the morning, I giddily prepared myself, and we headed towards campus. Our car was directed to the building I was to be living in - Larison Hall. As we arrived, and stopped the car in front of the building, we were immediately absorbed by a whirlwind of volunteer assistants who quite efficiently whisked all my luggage away and up to my room. I and my dad were informed that this was the chance for me to go in, get my room key from my RA, and check out my room - without my dad's assistance, a first chance at independence. We eventually met back at my room, and started to unpack some of the more important things.

I finally got to meet my would-be roommate, Brent. Ironically, he was from California, which is where my then-girlfriend had moved to attend college. He was a great guy, very friendly, although we weren't really the best match, since he was a total party guy/social butterfly. But for what it could have been, it was a pretty positive experience since I had never faced the prospect of living in close quarters with a stranger before.

I guess there were some events and things, but it came to a point where my dad was anxious to start the long trip home, and where I needed to start getting used to living on my own, away from parental guidance and protection. We parted ways in the middle of a thronging crowd assembled for some activities fair type gathering on the lawn next to the chapel, and I remember it being an incredibly bittersweet moment, filled simultaneously with fear and excitement, sadness, and vigor.

There was about a week of freshman orientation before actual classes began, where we could get used to living on campus, where to get food, become acquainted with our hall mates, attend supposedly mandatory (ha!) meetings about adapting to college life, and stuff like that. Basically, it was a lot like some kind of camp, except that we were living in buildings and not tents or huts. There were some incredibly lame festivities, where we were held captive on the field and forced to play embarrassing games with the rest of the freshman class, which really lowered my appreciation for the whole orientation program.

My hall had some pretty cool people. Of the two guys right across the hall from my room, one of them was from Pittsburgh, which was pretty cool. He was kind of a rough-and-tumble sporty type, though. Once, we got in trouble for playing the same song from each of our rooms, and adjusting the volume so that you could get a perfect equal balance from both sides by standing right in the middle of the hall between the two rooms. That was awesome. Down the hall, in the triple, there was "rock star Mike" (the Asian and the Mike that I was friends with in college would find irony in the fact that this particular Mike was Asian - and a guitarist! Premonitions?), who was a talented guitarist, and Pedro, another beginning guitarist like myself. Interestingly, we had three Laurens on our hall, and two Kates of some form. There was also a fascinating individual by the name of Whitney, who I got to know a little better later on (he spent a year backpacking in Europe, before entering college!). He started out studying Japanese right away, and though I had plans to take Japanese too as soon as I got the chance, he once told me never to take it because it was so challenging!

During one of the early festivities on campus, though it may have been after classes had started, there was a fleeting experience that burned a lasting image in my mind. I was walking through a crowd on the fields and walkways outside the upper entrance of the LC, tons of people hanging out and having a good time. Maybe there were some crafts, maybe there was some food being served. It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day. Anyhow, and this image may have been idealized by my emotional reaction, but I recall seeing a beautiful girl in the grass, barefoot, with flowing blonde hair. It sparked in me a visceral connection to everything I loved about the idealism of the love and peace hippie generation, and though I didn't make any kind of specific connection to the girl at the time, I took it as a symbol of how beautiful and amazing this world was that I was just entering into! The possibilities were endless!

During those early days, I also met another person that would have a hand in shaping my experience of college life. I believe I first met Paul on the bench outside our advisor's office, waiting for our very first individual meetings with him. Paul was clearly much higher up on the social ladder than I, but we shared an interest in physics and classic rock music, as well as a passion for playing the guitar, so I like to think we were able to have a pretty meaningful acquaintanceship. In addition to my intense fandom of the band he later played in on and around campus, by his connection I was introduced to a lot of scenes that I never would have experienced otherwise. Not to say that all of those scenes were necessarily scenes that I wanted to be a part of, but even so, I'm grateful for getting to see all different sides of life, even if just for comparison.

One of the major developments of that first week of living on campus was the switch from rooming in a double to rooming in a single. My roommate Brent became friends with another guy a few doors down, who also came from California, and who lived in a single. Turns out this other guy was having doubts about attending Bucknell, and before the week was out, he arranged to withdraw and transfer to UCLA. Lucky for me, Brent was the first person to act on the vacancy. He moved into the single down the hall, leaving me in my room all to myself! Some people warned that the administration would find someone else to squeeze into my room in Brent's place, but no such thing ever happened. Besides, that room was pretty cramped for two people, anyway. But it was just right for one. The extra special bonus was that, since it was outfitted as a double, I got twice the furniture! So I had an extra set of shelves, twice the closet space, one desk for school work and one desk for my computer, and a double bed! It was fantastic! Truly a dream come true! I lofted both the beds, so as not to overcrowd the space in the room, and put my computer desk in the cave underneath. It was amazing! Shangri-La!!

Journal 010

Unfortunately, I haven't done too much to take advantage of it, but the weather's been mild the past two days or so. Though it's also been kind of rainy/windy. The temperatures are up in the 50's though, even overnight, which is nice for drab February. Last night the garbage was out, so I made a point to finally take out those boards from the collapsed VHS tower. It was the middle of the night, of course, and I was most certainly naked, but I took them all the way out to the curb. I also took a bag out tonight, to the side of the house. In related news, I got the new wall decoration I ordered recently just the other day. It's an official-looking "Clothing Optional Beyond This Point" sign, and I think it's totally cool. There were three kinds, indicating either Florida, California, or Hawaii State Beaches at the bottom, and though I could have easily taken California, I went with Hawaii since you can't go wrong with tropical islands.

My brother convinced me to aid him in satisfying his craving for Wendy's tonight, before the drive-through closed at 1am. We ordered and ate in the parking lot (in the van, of course). They were out of frosties, surprisingly. They had chicken nuggets, but they weren't as good as the old chicken tenders they used to have... The fries weren't the best fast food fries I've ever had, either. But hey, it is what it is. I made a point to stop at Giant Eagle before going home, because I needed to restock my supply of cotton swabs. I also picked up the latest issue of Fangoria. I wonder if it's really popular or something, because sometimes I go and I just don't see it there, and today, the issue I grabbed was the last one.

I haven't read any of it yet, but flipping through, I saw an ad for The Poughkeepsie Tapes, an upcoming horror mockumentary (?) supposedly scheduled to open this Friday. However, reports on its opening date are mixed, and there's some evidence that the 2/08/08 date has been bumped. Right now I'm not exactly sure when the movie will be released, whether it will be in a couple days, or not until the end of the year - or anytime else - but I am looking forward to seeing it. Basically, from what I've seen of the trailer, it's supposed to be a faux documentary of a serial killer who left behind tons of video tapes of his crimes. Not surprising that certain people would get upset about it, but I have to admit I'm very intrigued by it. The whole dark side of mankind idea, and gazing into the abyss, and all that. I'm a horror fan, and it's probably not surprising that I have an interest in serial killers and things like that. It's not terribly easy to talk about, casually, because people have a tendency to assume that if you're interested in that stuff, then you're automatically predisposed to partake in it. Well, I hope you can guess what I think of that mindset. Watching Millenium sort of gives me the idea that it might be cool to be an investigator of violent crimes or something, since I feel like I could sympathize with these criminals, while not actually condoning their behavior. Getting into the mind of the killer in a way. Though without Frank Blank's special skill. It'd probably be completely different to be exposed to that sort of thing in real life, though. I mean, I don't mind the gore in a horror flick at all, but, ironically, when it comes to real life, I get queasy at the mere sight of blood. Just one of those things...

I've already fully accepted the fact that I belong on the lunatic fringe of society. If I do ever have a place in the mainstream, it can only be a cover. But that doesn't make me bad or evil or uncivilized or anything like that. I'm simply different. My standards and morals and values don't necessarily match up with the average. It's a shame because it makes things rather difficult for me. I'm a victim of space and time. But on the other hand, I value my uniqueness, and my unconventional opinions. It takes all kinds. I just hope I can find *some* place for myself in this world...

I finished Dying Of Embarrassment in two sittings. More of the same. Plenty of good information, but it still comes down to the question of making an active effort. And desensitization. If I felt okay about willfully entering these situations, even just enough to overcome my fear of them, then my problem would have been long gone by now. Although I'm still hoping for a miracle (read: knight in shining armor), I've already come to the conclusion that there's very little chance of me overcoming my problems on my own. Yet, getting professional help is incomprehensible to me. It doesn't help that in that section in the book, their best advice is to "ask questions". Yeah, the hardest possible thing for me to do. Even if I knew what I was getting into. Ideally, I think everyone should have a personal guardian (angel, perhaps?) that guides them through life. Of course, that would be impossible, because there are few if any people actually qualified to do a good job of that, and they'd have to be so dedicated to their case that they could only handle one person at a time (and then who would handle them?). Well, there's another piece of proof that 'God' doesn't exist. No guardian angels. Fuck you, god.

RPM Challenge is, well, *is*. I guess I'm coming up with some stuff. Still plenty of time to play around and put things together, I guess. If anything, it's been a pretty good excuse for me to pick up the guitar and play. Although it's easy to get distracted playing through all the riffs/songs I know, not that that's altogether a bad thing. I figure I should learn the songs in that Blues Guitar Bible I have, because they're great blues songs that I would kill to have in my repertoire. The only thing stopping me is the effort. Freddie King's I'm Tore Down is in there, and I started trying to play it last night. Awesome short little opening lick that totally sounds like a Freddie King lick. But golly, knowing which notes to play isn't enough. You have to know *how* to play them to make them sound good, the way Freddie does instinctively, and then you gotta practice them enough that you can nail them on the fly. Think of the effort, and that's just the first few seconds of the song! But I want more than anything to be able to play that song start to finish with all of Freddie's stingin' licks. UuuuUuuUUuuuUUuuggghhhh... Why can't I have been born with an indomitable work ethic?

Journal 009

Might as well right now get over the 'fear' of posting two Journal entries (or more?) in a row.

Today was the Superbowl. I actually feel kind of guilty mentioning it, because on the scale of football fandom (or fandom of sports of any kind), I'm located on the extreme with the people who could miss the Superbowl without realizing it - or caring. And I feel like acknowledging it automatically puts me in the group of casual fans who do care a little bit about the game. Well, there are two factors which brought the game to my attention this year. First of all, my dad's a huge football fan; he had no big Superbowl party to go to this year; and kickoff was during dinner - so there was no way I could have not been exposed. And secondly, Tom Petty was playing the half-time show, and I wanted to see that. So, since it was there, I decided to watch for the commercials, too, like any other non-fan would do. Nothing too mind-blowing, but you can tell that the stakes are higher - I know it wouldn't make sense financially and all that, but why can't advertisers be at the top of their game for regular commercials? Maybe then, people wouldn't hate commercial breaks so much...

Anyway, Petty's performance was, I'd say, par for the course. Pretty much what you'd expect from Petty playin' the Superbowl. I think I enjoyed the Stones' gig more, a couple years ago, but for a mainstream gig like this, they could do a lot worse than Petty (and truth be told, most of the years it *is* not even worth watching). The amount of sparkle throughout the stadium was pretty impressive. The songs Petty played were American Girl, I Won't Back Down, Free Fallin', and Runnin' Down A Dream. It's not surprising he'd play well-known songs - I mean, you might as well take advantage of that huge audience, and play songs they're gonna be able to sing along with. And besides, Petty doesn't seem like the type to pull out "artist's choice" on an important gig like playing at the Superbowl. I do like the spirit of adventurism in an artist, though, and I hope the rumours about Petty being looser with his setlists on the upcoming tour are true. I've seen him twice already, in 2005 and 2006, with 60% of his playlist repeated. Actually 60% sounds like a lot less than I was expecting.

It's 3 days into February, and I've already managed to slack off one day on my RPM Challenge efforts. But, having played guitar 2 out of 3 days is already a much better average than I've been pulling. I've been playing with both Meddle and Jabberwock, seeing what kind of sounds I can coax out of them - very preliminary stuff. Before a couple days ago, I actually hadn't played Jabberwock in a while, since I've been doing this madness stuff on Meddle. Picking Jabberwock up again, I was immediately reminded of - and impressed by - its bite. Meddle is still better with controlling the feedback, and for sensual tones, but Jabberwock's got the crunch. I'd have to say that Meddle is my blues guitar while Jabberwock is my rock guitar (I'd even say metal, except that I don't play metal). Still though, the bow effect only really works on Jabberwock. So it's looking like I'll definitely be using both guitars in this project. I might have to break and switch, but I think I might try to work out a system where I have both plugged in, and I can sit one down and let it humbuzz while I pick up the other one, turn the volume up, and continue on. Still lots of work to be done.

I was thinking about my project - what the idea behind it will be, what to name the pieces of the composition (because this sort of thing is a lot easier, and at least as fun as, the actual playing and composing) - and I thought that, since the name of my project is already Eight of Swords, I could break it into eight pieces, each named after a famous sword! So then I thought about what famous legendary swords I knew about, and I immediately came up with Excalibur and Masamune. But then I got stuck. What other famous, named swords are there? I thought about picking out swords from Final Fantasy games, but I definitely wanted my project to have a more 'myths and legends' than 'gamer geek' feel. Then I questioned whether I wanted to use supposed real historical swords of legend, or ones from fictional stories as well. But then, there are so many swords, and they each have their own place, how can I extract them like that, for my purposes? I'll obviously be biased toward the swords I've been exposed to.

There's something very appealing to me about the way that the Final Fantasy games have consolidated so much mythology from many different cultures and adopted it for their own purposes. It's a learning tool - a springboard for research. But something about taking those ideas and restructuring them to fit into a new framework... Okay, I'm bordering on ideas and feelings that I really can't explain in words, here. I believe I have mentioned that I've been working on devising my own RPG - dragonfaith (in my To Do List entry). Well, I think about these kinds of things. Consolidating ideas, and creating my own. And when it comes to naming things, even the coolest names from past mythologies often turn out to be pretty straightforward - oh, it's just "fire-sword" in Latin! So, if you call something Firesword now, it might sound pretty stupid, but it could be awesome in a thousand years when everybody's speaking Esperanto! Anyway, I guess the point is, I start thinking about whether there would be more worth in stealing other people's swords, or creating my own. Although, the benefit of stealing other swords is that people know them already. And that was the original point.

I searched Wikipedia for a list of swords. If you've ever surfed Wikipedia, you know how easy it is to get off on tangents. I ended up reading about lightsaber combat and Sith lords...

Yesterday was Groundhog Day. I have no idea what the groundhog did. But I watched Groundhog Day. Very profound movie. A lot more serious than the other two Bill Murray flicks I watched the day before - Stripes, and Ghostbusters. The 80's is an interesting beast. I have an inescapable connection to it, since I was born in the 80's, although I'm probably more a 90's kid, then again those early years were the formative years, weren't they? Anyhow, although the 80's is incredibly lame in almost every aspect, there's a weird appeal to it. It has nothing to do with the music - I think the music is crap. And I don't really respect the fashion, but the fashion has a lot to do with this feeling. Like, when I watch an 80's movie - for example, there were some good slashers in the 80's - there's just something about the whole aura of it that seems so innocent, and so upbeat. Even when talking about slashers. I don't know, it's really weird. There was a movie on TV months ago that I ended up seeing, starring Madonna. It was Desperately Seeking Susan. I'd be hard-pressed to call it a great movie, yet I had fun watching it. I'm tempted to say that there are some unconscious feelings going on relating to that "total 80's chick" (if you remember my Girls entry) that babysat me and my older brother during the 80's. That wouldn't surprise me.

But honestly, don't expect me to be caught dead going to an 80's themed party or going to see an 80's cover band. I think it's stupid how much people glorify the 80's. I think Satanic is definitely on to something with his philosophy about Sting, The Police, and Hip To Be Square.

Went to Wal-Mart last night. I looked through the "outdoors section", just scouting out possible camping-related items for Burning Man. I've been meaning to make up a shopping list, even just a preliminary one to start with. I also saw some bikes at the mart, but I dunno if they were kid's bikes or what. I definitely feel good about getting a bike. Even if it wasn't for Burning Man, I haven't ridden a bike in probably ten years, but everytime I think about it, I feel like it would be a lot of fun. And an excuse to get exercise, too. Like walking, but a little bit more exhilarating, and you could go a lot farther in the same amount of time, see different sights. I dunno if there's a trick to getting a bike, I just want one that's cheap, and comfortable (and that doesn't break down).

Bought myself a giant Reese's chocolate peanut butter heart from the Valentine's Day aisles. Nearly overdosed on that thing. I came to the realization that, although Valentine's Day is kind of depressing when you're alone, the major advantage is that you're free from the stress of having to impress your girlfriend. And boy is that a relief. I mean, I guess the effort is worth it if you get to reap the rewards, but from the other side of the fence, at least you can look forward to not having to make any effort at all.

Journal 007

There have been times in my life where I've considered the value of writing a diary. Having the ability to look back in detail at the things that were happening to me on any given day in the past, and the thoughts that were running through my mind, is interesting, if not all that practical. However, I never had the discipline to force myself to write about my day regularly, as it's always seemed like a redundant effort. Still, with my dedication to this blog, it seems I now have a sufficient excuse (even if it's not daily).

Friday was another Open Stage night at the den. It was relatively uncrowded - in my opinion, likely due to the bitter cold. I still get crazy nervous reactions before performing, and I don't know if it's more about going out of the house and into a crowd of people, or if it's about the performing itself, as I've gotten fairly comfortable getting up and playing at the den (although the same cannot be said about any other venues). The symptoms are more physical than psychological, I think. I have a sensitive digestive system, and my sinuses seem to want to react as well, like as if I was allergic to people or social contact or something. Even when I sit down and write for this blog, and start talking about stuff in a context where I know other people will be reading it, I start sniffing and coughing and sipping water a lot more than when I'm doing other things. It's weird. (And it is indeed happening now, as expected).

Before the Open Stage, I was thinking about my "madness" act, and I was starting to come to the conclusion that it was getting old, in my mind, and I needed to do something to make it new and interesting. I'm thinking about maybe incorporating the bow I have, but I need to practice that a bit and see if I can make it interesting. At any rate, when my time came to perform, I tried to mix my repertoire up a bit, opening it in a different way, and trying to spend more time on the quiet, ambient portions, than on the loud, erratic portions. I think it was good. At the end of it, someone in the audience asked for an explanation, and I was like (to myself) "shit, what do I say?" So I made something up about syzygy and planets lining up and cosmic energy or something, and I think they bought it.

Afterwards the Primatives & Co. had pizza again, since the Indian eatery they wanted to eat at wasn't open late enough (at least I think that's what the problem was).

Saturday, I finally watched one of the two Crossroads Guitar Festivals I got over the holidays. Some really great stuff. Joe Walsh did an awesome extended blues intro to Funk #49, which surprised and impressed me. I like his introduction to Rocky Mountain Way - "if I knew I was gonna have to play this song for the rest of my life, I would've written something else." I liked the songs that were done which had multiple guitarists, where each guitarist was given a chance to solo - which happened a lot at the festival. Like when Eric Clapton, Buddy Guy, Jimmie Vaughan, and B.B. King all took their turn on Rock Me Baby, and when each of the artists in Clapton's band soloed during a fierce and extended performance of Have You Ever Loved A Woman. Even though it's not really my scene, Steve Vai's performance was at least interesting - he's undoubtedly very talented at the instrument, but I see him more as a showman than a musician. Robert Cray's Time Makes Two was incredibly moving. I love songs that are performed like that, where the pain and sadness is palpable, and you could imagine the artist breaking down in tears just as easily as pouring out another verse or solo. Pretty much the exact opposite of Vai's act. Musically, Jonny Lang's act was alright, but the sheer effort he put into singing and playing was downright impressive. I felt like he was gonna have a stroke or something... I generally steer away from J.J. Cale's influence on Eric Clapton (Cale wrote Cocaine as well as After Midnight), because it's different from the blues material that I like to hear Eric Clapton play, but Cale's playing here was very interesting. Unique, and expressive. When James Taylor came on to do a couple songs, I was totally thinking, "this guy is such a chick musician" - like, you know how there are chick flicks? Well, James Taylor is one of the 'chick flicks' of musicians, if that makes any sense to you. Always good to see Santana play - I envy him for his wicked sustain. I don't know how he does it. It was fun to see Clapton play some Santana-esque licks in homage during the song - I think it's so interesting to hear guitarists playing in the style of other guitarists - not so much when they're stealing an artist's technique, but more as a form of musical impression. John Mayer was expectedly disappointing - I don't even know why he was involved in the festival. Even during his interview, he kept saying these weird things that made absolutely no sense at all. It's like, what? What are you talking about, and who cares? ZZ Top's closing act was pretty cool.

I started reading Living Fully With Shyness And Social Anxiety. There are different sections dedicated to different aspects of the condition. I've read the part on the body - physical symptoms. It's not as important to me as I think the part on the mind will be, since at this stage in my life, I've pretty much extracted myself from most of the situations that give me physical anxiety, and I'm more concerned with battling the psychological ideas that keep me from even going out there, into the world. It was still interesting though. Particularly the part about Shy Bladder Syndrome - the condition of being unable to 'vacate' in the presence of others, for psychological, rather than physiological, reasons. I admit it's something I have trouble with at times. Using public restrooms designed for more than one person at a time is pretty stressful for me, and I try to avoid it whenever possible, sometimes to adverse effect. Especially in college, taking a leak could at times become a rather paralyzing obstacle, when the hall restroom was anything less than empty. The real trouble of it is that you go in there, and if you could get it out right away, then that would be great. But the longer you wait for it to come out, the longer you've been in there, and the more concerned you get at people wondering what you've been doing in there, and then the anxiety kicks in at full power, and you want to hide and pretend like you're not even there - there's no chance for you to either do your business *or* leave. And then you end up waiting, sometimes quite a long time, until you have the privacy necessary to settle your affair.

I find that general situation is a problem with a lot of things - the idea of waiting until the moment's ripe, but the longer you wait, the more awkward it would be to act, and since you weren't prepared to act in the first place, you can't do it now, and then time just goes on and on and it gets worse and worse until you completely avoid what needs to be done. Like answering emails. Sometimes I'll get an email, and I'll be concerned about what to say and how it will be received, so I wait and think about it. And then the longer I postpone sending the reply, the more awkward it would be to send the reply that late. Arg. It happens with all kinds of things. Like telling someone about something. Like telling my dad about Burning Man, that's probably gonna turn out the same way. I'm afraid to tell him about it because I don't know what his reaction will be, and I'm afraid it will be less than 100% positive, which scares me - and even if it's like 90% positive, I'm still too scared about that 10%. So I wait for a good time to drop the issue, and it never comes, and the closer the event gets, the more worried I get about the added stress of mentioning it when it's so close, and the possible flak I'd get for not mentioning it earlier...and it's a vicious cycle of fear and anxiety and avoidance and it just doesn't have a positive outcome. So the best solution - and I can tell myself this, but it doesn't always mean that I can accomplish it - is to take care of these things right away. Cause none of the flak or negative reaction or any of that really matters - if it's gonna happen, it's gonna happen - and the important thing is to get the deed done. The only purpose the fear serves is to prevent the deed from getting done, and once it's done, the fear is pointless. So the best way to get rid of the fear is to just do it. Don't think and don't worry; just do. But obviously that's easier said than done. If I didn't have a problem just doing it in the first place, then I wouldn't have a problem.

In the book, the author talks about what it takes for different people to overcome their struggles. For some people, all the information in the book won't be enough, and for others, just a single point of knowledge is enough to change their whole perspective. Well, after having read that, I'm surprised that I myself have been rather blown away by one minor little detail, that has changed my perspective at least a little bit. It's probably not everything, but it could at least be something. Anyhow, the detail was as follows. Having social anxiety means being overly sensitive to one's reception by other people. You get nervous over the smallest, unimportant details, thinking that the tiniest thing will cause a person to dislike you - and that's the worst possible outcome imaginable. But if you look at the coin from the other side, you see that this sensitivity to people's reactions can be considered a positive trait. You're nervous because you *want* to please people. So why is that a bad thing? Well, it's obviously a problem, but that's because you're making it out to be a problem. But it can also be an advantage, if you look at it from a positive perspective. If I'm nervous about meeting someone for the first time, I can let my anxiety at being accepted cripple me, or I can let my knowledge that I'm only nervous because I want to be accepted allow me to make a conscious effort at being accepted. And instead of using all that energy to monitor my own actions, and to worry about how other people might perceive them, I can use that energy to determine other people's moods, and then react to them to try and make other people feel more comfortable. I almost feel like it's a superpower, which can easily become a burden dragging me down, but if I learn how to use it properly, it could become an invaluable asset allowing me to help people, as well as myself. I think that's an amazing epiphany, and while I still have a long way to go in changing my life, I think it's an important step. Even just the idea, that the book encourages, that being shy is not something to be ashamed of, is empowering. I've alway been afraid to admit to people that I'm shy, despite it being obvious, because I've always looked at it as something to be ashamed of, something that people would naturally tease you about. But it's not necessarily a bad thing. It can be just as much a good thing. It's just an aspect of my personality, of who I am, and it's only as positive or negative as I allow myself to make it. Mindless positive encouragement has never impressed me, but show me facts and reasoning that support a more positive outlook, and well, it just might work...

On Sunday, the fam went out to eat in celebration of my dad's birthday. We went to a fancy Chinese restaurant nearby. The reasoning, as I understand it, is that my dad hasn't had a good plate of General Tso's Chicken in quite a while. He, and the rest of us, I think, were pleased with our meal. I hadn't had Chinese since college, I don't think. And it inevitably reminds me of college. Ordering Chinese with my friends on the hall. Ah, good times. I had my usual - Kung Pao Chicken. It's got a kick, but it's never been too spicy for me to handle (I'd say I'm a middle-weight on the scale of spice-lovers - if light-weights can't handle spice, and heavy-weights love the extremes). The only downside to Kung Pao is that it's one of the dishes with the higher veggie content. But I guess forcing myself to eat the veggies, which aren't too bad, is good for me, and it's worth it to get to the chicken. I also had some delicious wonton soup, and even more delicious pot stickers. A good Chinese meal like that has got to go up near the top of my list of best meals ever. I wish I could find a 24 hour Chinese buffet somewhere in the area. I'm a little disappointed they didn't provide chopsticks (though nobody asked), though it seemed like they might have been a bit too fancy for chopsticks (if that makes any sense). If it wasn't easier to just grab a fork out of the kitchen drawer, I'd definitely want to eat with chopsticks more often in general, no matter what kind of meals. Chopsticks are cool.

I read an article a while back about the changing music industry, and how albums are mixed differently today than they were decades ago - particularly, that they have less dynamic range and are louder overall (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loudness_war). It's something I noticed when I got Silvertide's album Show & Tell years ago - it's mixed much louder than the average CD I have (considering that my collection consists mostly of albums from the 60's and 70's - although I've heard that some newer remasters or greatest hits collections are also victims of this 'louder is better' policy). But especially now, listening to most of my collection on a shuffled playlist, the difference between the modern and classic albums is striking. Earlier, I had to turn the volume up a bit to hear Jefferson Airplane's Comin' Back To Me - a mellow, acoustic piece - and then after the song, a track from the Stones new album A Bigger Bang came on and it was freaking loud! All the other modern albums I have are loud, too - including Aerosmith's Honkin' On Bobo, Johnny Winter's I'm A Bluesman, and American Minor, in addition to the ones listed above. It wouldn't bother me so much if the volume level was consistent, but the sudden switch from quiet to loud can be rather jarring at times.

My friend linked me to The RPM Challenge (http://www.rpmchallenge.com/) the other day. I hadn't heard of it, but apparently it's a general challenge to musicians to record an album during the shortest month of the year (February). It just so happens that February starts in a few days. I think this would be a positive experience, considering how much I avoid recording. It should be a nice kick in the pants, to force me to produce *something*, in the form of a final version. The idea is for everything to be recorded in February, although whether or not you *write* the songs in February is up to you. That having been said, I think it's truer to the challenge if you write the stuff, or at least develop most of it, within the month. So I've been partly thinking about what I'd like to do for my album, and partly avoiding thinking about it before February. Heh. But I think I wanna do a post-rock type thing. One long track that goes for 35-45 minutes, or however long it turns out to be. I want it to be a little more structured than the improvisation I do every other week at the Open Stage, because that would kind of be cheating for the challenge. So - and this is still a preliminary possible idea - I'm thinking about improvising for at least 35-45 minutes every night once February starts up, then after a little while, starting to work out specific sections. Ultimately, it's not gonna be transcribed note for note or anything, but I wanna have a clear idea of which parts go where, and what they'll sound like in general. And then we'll see what kind of things I come up with to make it interesting along the way. As much as I like the *idea* of studio wizardry, and using multiple tracks for different instrument parts, I think ultimately I'm gonna default toward just recording a single guitar, and just getting whatever I can play, like a live-in-the-studio kind of deal. I may or may not decide to add some words. We'll see, I might even change my mind about the whole thing, but so far, that's my idea, and the closer February gets, the more of a hassle changing my mind will become - though ultimately, whatever I come up with throughout the month, I imagine will be fair game. So it should be interesting, I think, and encouraging for me.

And that brings up another issue I wanted to mention. The fact that, the most important step toward accomplishing something, is committing to it. Because if you're not committed to it, then every little doubt you have becomes a potential reason to quit and back out. But if you've already committed, then your first instinct is to overcome those doubts and problems and barriers, rather than abandoning the project. And an insecure person such as myself will probably (I'm hoping) be surprised and impressed with how much he is capable of. So, I think, in order to accomplish amazing things, I have to commit to them first, or else they'll never get done. Like Burning Man. There are so many if's involved, that if I wasn't committed, I'd spend all my time worrying about it and not preparing myself for it. But having bought my tickets and committed to it, I don't care how much trouble or effort it is, I'm gonna do everything in my power to make it happen. It's like, getting into the mindframe that it's already been determined that it's gonna happen, and the only thing you can do is prepare for it. Whereas, if you weren't committed, then you can still fall back on the possibility of it not happening. And that becomes a crutch. And then it never happens. I think that maybe this could be good advice for other people, too. The most important step toward accomplishing something is committing yourself to it. Just don't be stupid, and make sure it's something you want to accomplish in the first place. And if it is, then once you commit to it, you'll be surprised at your ability to make it happen.

You know, I often think I won't have enough to say about something to make a good blog entry out of it, then when I finally get around to sitting down and writing stuff out, it turns out I have more than enough...

To Do List

Contrary to what you may believe, my schedule is just as busy as that of anyone who has a job or goes to school. The primary differences are just that 1) there are rarely any deadlines, and 2) most of the things I "have" to do are actually pretty agreeable tasks. In any case, I have a long list of things I'd like to accomplish, and despite their light nature, I do at times feel quite overwhelmed by them. The worst part is how I tend to avoid the most important tasks for the easiest ones.

Here's my current To Do List, more or less:

Video Games To Play

I recently (4, 5, 6? months ago or so) bought a bunch of classic Final Fantasy titles re-released for Playstation, as I was updating my old FF-related webpage, and it got me in the mood to dig up the old classics. As it turned out, I only had a chance to play FFIV and FFV before I got distracted and pulled away to other things. So I still have FFVI and Chrono Trigger to play through, which is something I want to make a point of doing sooner or later. Priority level for this task is pretty low, at this point, however.

I also got Silent Hill 4 for Christmas. I played through Silent Hill 3 last Halloween, so I'm on a break period before I'm ready to tackle another Silent Hill (you can only visit that town so often - too much and it'll tear your soul apart). So at this point it's just a matter of time, waiting for when I feel the call to return to that spooky resort lake town. Playing a Silent Hill title can take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks, or longer, depending on how much I focus on the game - I usually tend to put in long hours, when possible, while I'm working on the game, putting all other tasks in the background. In contrast, the Final Fantasy games could easily take weeks, maybe even up to a month, depending on focus.

PC Games To Play

Never been much of a PC gamer - I've always been the console type. However, there are exceptions. I have two visual novels to play through. One - Fate Stay Night - I've spent a lot of time on. There are three (I believe) scenarios to the game and I've played through the main one. The only thing stopping me from the others is waiting on the translations. So sometime in the future when those are done I anticipate completing the game fully. The other game - Ever17 - I haven't even started yet, but it looks interesting, and it was recommended by a friend, so I'm looking forward to playing it, *sometime* when I get around to it.

In addition to those visual novels, there is always Doom - which will always be my favorite PC game (and one of the greatest games ever made). I started on a voyage to play through the Top 100 custom wads (user-designed levels) as voted by Doomworld.com, but only got through most of the second year (they're ranked as the best 10 from each year, spanning a decade) before I got, once again, distracted and pulled away to other things. I will go through all those wad's eventually - Doom has been with me since the beginning, and I've always come back to it again and again through the years. I suspect the time commitment for playing all those wads, some of which are full-on episodes (groups of 8-9 levels), or more, is pretty huge, but I'm not really in any hurry. I originally started playing through them to inspire me while I was working on designing my own Doom levels (another project that's been put on indefinite hold), but since that's not currently on my mind, neither are the wads.

Anime Series To Watch

I am greatly happy that my anime fandom hasn't died out after all these years. I still love watching anime, as much as I ever have, and it's exciting to be on the front lines, seeing some of the series while they're brand new. But I do have a list of series to plow through, and lately that list has been growing faster than it's been shrinking.

I just finished up Genshiken and Zetsubou, so it's nice to check those off the list, although now it looks like there's an alternate Zetsubou-related series (which I haven't started yet). I still have Bamboo Blade to follow, which I'm guessing is around the halfway point right now (unless it goes longer than the standard 24-26 episodes for a full series). In addition to that, I have a number of series waiting in the wings. Among the series my friend has recommended, that I have yet to dive into, is Hayate no Gotoku which, from what I can tell, goes beyond the 26 episode mark. Also, there are a couple series that I've downloaded in full, and have been waiting on plowing through, but haven't gotten around to yet. Namely, the Lodoss TV series, which I've been dying to see ever since being blown away by the original OAV series, and a series called Negima, which attracted me due to being based on a series written by the creator of Love Hina (a series I very much enjoyed), and the fact that it appears to be chock full of cute girls. What's more, there's also Chobits, a series that I've already seen, but since I re-downloaded it, I've been dying to watch it again, because Chii is so damn cute.

And, as if that wasn't enough, there's also the continuation of the Naruto series, which I'm anxious to catch up with. I made a Herculean effort to watch all the two hundred-some episodes of the first series, much of which consisted of dreaded fan-criticized 'filler' (not *that* bad, though). But even now, with the new series, there's already some 44 episodes or so out, and that's 44 episodes that I need to watch before I'm caught up to speed.

As you can see, I have a lot of anime to watch, meaning a lot of time to be wasted watching it. Priority level on most of it is relatively low, except that when I start a series, I like to finish it in a timely fashion. That, and I'd like to keep up on the current series as much as possible, just to 'stay in the game', so to speak.

Manga To Read

And yes, there is also manga for me to read. I've gotten into manga more and more ever since becoming an anime fan. As far as paper series (as opposed to digital stuff on my computer), I'm following Berserk as it comes out in English, volume by volume. I'm also in the middle of School Rumble, which means I don't want to neglect it, if possible. I'm wary of getting into new series, because of the time (and money) commitment they represent, but there are other series I'm interested in reading.

As for the digital stuff, I still have 11 volumes of Kenshin left to read, which has been sitting around for awhile. I'm keeping up with Claymore as it comes out, but that's just a short chapter a month, which is a very small time commitment, and very easy to stay on top of (and also a very good series). Additionally, I have a few Volume 1's from a few different series recommended by my friend that I've been hesitant to jump into because of the time commitment involved if I end up wanting to read more. There's also 51 chapters of Yotsubato, which I recently picked up.

Books To Read

My pile of books to read just keeps growing, and with every title added to the stack, my heart sinks deeper from the knowledge of the commitment involved. I'm in the middle of Dante's Divine Comedy, which, honestly, I started reading about a year ago. I made it through Inferno, and part-way through Purgatorio, before getting (chime in, kids) distracted and pulled away to other things. It's a bit hard to read, because, being an allegory, there's so much uninteresting placement of political and societal facts which bogs down the narrative. It's unfortunate, because, considering the subject, it hasn't shown itself to be as interesting a read as I was expecting. Still, I'm determined to finish it, rather than give up halfway through. But that's proving to be a tough task.

Once I'm finished with that, I have John Milton's Paradise Lost, of a similar theme, that I'd like to read through (I'm crossing my fingers that it's a smoother read than Dante). The whole idea of reading these books, besides my general interest in the topic of heaven and hell as a plot device (Christian mythology is fascinating as fiction, just not as reality), is to serve as inspiration for my own narrative I'm in the process of writing, about journeying through heaven and hell (more on that later). So I see these tasks as not only something I want to do, but something that might have an important influence on what might be my development as a writer - not that I have any lofty ambitions about being a writer, but I do have ideas that I would love to see published some day (in some form), and it would be a great step in the direction of becoming a real artist - someone who profits from his creative instincts. Therefore, the priority level on reading these is high (and yet I've put them off for nearly a year now...).

You might as well get used to right now the inverse relation between priority level and the order in which things get done.

Originally, I was reading through Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series when I took a break to start reading Dante - my mood was ripe for Dante, though in the long run it seems as though I should have just waited. I plowed through the first four books of the Wheel of Time with great interest, and I maintain my excitement to continue the series . . . eventually.

There's a handful of other books, including the ultimate edition of the Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, which I bought and intended to read years ago now; some other fantasy titles; and Roger Penrose's The Road To Reality - A Complete Guide To The Laws Of The Universe, a book that I doubt I even have the desire to read anymore. Oh, and there's The Illiad and The Odyssey, which I tried to read once a long time ago, but didn't get very far.

And, in the newcomer's corner, there's Clive Barker's Books of Blood, Volumes One To Three, which I just got for Christmas. I'm interested in reading that, and if I enjoy it, there's a good chance I'll pick up volumes 4-6, as well.

For most of those books, the priority is relatively low - no rush. But I have three titles whose priority exceeds even the 'heaven and hell' titles. About a month ago I picked up three self-helpish books on battling social anxiety. My expectations remain realistic, but I'm still hopeful that they might provide *some* information to help me overcome my obstacles and ultimately get out there and make something of my life. I've been waiting on reading them until after finishing up the massive Stones bio, since I've been reading it for awhile, and now that I'm finally finished with it, I think it's time. But for anyone expecting a magical instant transformation, I refer you to NHK Ni Youkoso.

DVD's To Watch

Leftover from Christmas, I still have both Crossroads Guitar Festivals to watch, as well as the majority of Millenium. Millenium is three seasons, and I have about 70 episodes left to watch, I think, at around 40 minutes an episode, I'd say. I've got into the habit of watching one episode at a time, instead of marathoning it. Generally, I'll watch an episode after dinner on the weekdays.

I also received a few more DVD's for my birthday. Included are 300 (worth it for the oracle scene alone), Sunshine (an interesting title that I'm looking forward to seeing - by the director of 28 Days Later), a triplet of classic Bill Murray titles (Stripes, Ghostbusters, and Groundhog Day - maybe I'll wait till February 2 to watch them!), and a groovy PBS hippie special.

Good stuff to keep me entertained for awhile. Though also to keep me away from the more important tasks...

Important Tasks (Creativity/Becoming An Artist):

First of all, becoming a musician. On the top of my list should be steady practice of the guitar, at least an hour a day average. Of course, I'm notoriously bad at practicing, so this is something that rarely happens, unfortunately. Also, the recording status on my album Clear As Mud has been frozen for something like a year. I lost faith in the recording process somewhere along the way, and I've only been drifting away from the project more and more day by day. I have a second album in mind that I was gonna work on after I finished the first, but needless to say, that one hasn't seen any attention, either. Pathetic, isnt' it?

I have a couple major stories I'm working on. One of them is Jabberwocky, which is tied in with the first original [instrumental] song I wrote on guitar. The story is about a young man who returns from a year of solitary meditation/training in the mountains, to find his home town in ruins, scorched to the ground by a vicious dragon he sees in a vision. He then goes on an epic quest to avenge his family, by first acquiring the skills necessary to conquer the Jabberwock, then finding the beast to finally seek requiem. But he runs into some obstacles on the way, and becomes rather side-tracked after succumbing to a spell inadvertently placed on him by a member of the enchanted race. So far, I've worked out a number of the details, but I've actually written very little of the story.

The other story I've been working on is called Ascension. It's meant to be part of a series, possibly a trilogy - inspired moreso by the structure than the content of Dante's Divine Comedy. The story begins with a soul's awakening in the afterlife. So far, most of the effort I've put in is on the first part of the journey, where the soul travels through hell, encountering all the worst tortures and demons on the way. His goal is to purify his spirit and escape the pits of hell, in an attempt at being redeemed. Ultimately, he'll travel through Purgatory and Heaven, and the long term story I'm planning will involve an overthrow of Heaven, if all goes well. There's a bit of a backstory that I've worked out partially, which serves to introduce the main demon lords of hell, who will serve an important role in the overthrow of Heaven and the war against God. Most of my work on the story so far has been designing the various territories of hell, which I've had great fun working on. To start off, I did a lot of interesting research on the mythos of hell in various cultures (although Christian ideas are most abundant), and used the different names and descriptions I came across to define the various territories of my hell.

There are other stories I've thought about, but I've put much less effort into them thus far, and they're not nearly as important to me as the two described above.

As for the gaming realm, seeing as I fantasized as a child about being a game designer of some sort, I have an idea which makes up the backbone of what I think could be a really cool old-school-style 2D console-type RPG (in other words, in the tradition of the Final Fantasy titles for Super Nintendo). The theme revolves around the conflict between nature and technology, as the story starts up a generation or two after a radical religious cult worshipping ancient dragons uses a magical artifact to bring those dragons to life, commanding them to utterly destroy the mechanical world of man, reducing civilization to a primitive form. The charm of the series is the different types of dragons you have to fight, and the Hunter's Guild which plays a major role in the gameplay. It's something of a labor of love, and I've put a lot of thought into it so far, but there's still so much left to work out. I don't know if it will ever become something, but I like to think that there's a chance. By the way, my title for it is "dragonfaith".

While that project hasn't progressed beyond the "thoughts on paper" stage, I *have* put some "falsifiable" effort into my Doom scenario. As I mentioned above, there are some Doom levels that I've planned out into a scenario, and some of which I've actually spent considerable time on designing - to a point that you can actually test them by playing through them! The scenario is based on the story of Berserk, with level design paying homage to a less known PC horror title, Realms of the Haunting. I call my scenario Realms of the Berserk. If you're not familiar with Doom, you'll probably need a crash course if you're interested in trying my levels. And I'd be happy to help you out if that's the case. If you are familiar with Doom, then hopefully you have an idea of what the modding community is about. If you know about zdoom, and you know what .wad files are, then feel free to have a go at my levels - http://zharth.tenjou.net/doom/rotb/index.html. There's also screenshots and more information about the levels on that page, in addition to downloads of the available levels.

I've been working on this thing for quite a long time. I had early demos of the garden, mausoleum, ravine, and living chasm levels even before I went to college. After college, there was a period when I exerted an incredible amount of effort over a couple of weeks to produce what's available now. There's no telling whether I'll ever finish this project, but I like to think, the longer it takes, the easier to use the programs get (at least I hope that's the case, sometimes they end up becoming even more complicated). Any way, only the future can tell.

Realms of the Berserk is my serious Doom project; I have another project I've put a little work into just for fun. The idea came upon me as a result of the paradoxical inequality in American culture between the treatment of violent material, and the treatment of sexual material. Since Doom is a game that is pretty much 100% violence, I thought it would be interesting to flip it over and transform all of that violence into sex. Instead of bloodthirsty demons, you have sexual deviants with an insatiable appetite for lust. Obviously, it would be very easy to write off a project like this as another case of a horny geek replacing all the sprites with pixellated nudity - like all of those people who give pornography a bad name. But no, that's not my style, so I've made an effort to make it interesting, and even tried to tweak the gameplay in very simple but fun ways. Of course, it's only a side project, so there's not much to show for it, and I doubt I have quite the skills necessary to pull (jerk?) it off (largely in the graphics department). Still, I think it's a fun idea to play around with.

Avoidance

Well, getting back to the task at hand, the problem you can clearly see is that the more something needs doing, the less inclined I am to do it. The problem is, when I see a task, I treat it not as something to do, but something to be done. Something to be checked off the list, to be taken off the stack. And so I tend to default toward the things that produce the best results. If I sit and practice guitar for an hour, it doesn't really feel like I got anything done. I don't feel like I'm any better of a guitarist than I was an hour ago. But if I watch a couple episodes of an anime series instead, then I can check those off my list, and I know I'm closer to the end of the series. Even when I was in school, and had multiple homework assignments, I tended to want to do the short and easy ones first. That way, I'd get them out of the way, instead of risking working for hours on a tough assignment, not finishing it, and feeling discouraged because I don't feel like I really accomplished anything in those hours.

There are other issues involved, I know. Altogether, it's very confusing to me, and I keep trying to put the pieces together, to figure out just why I defeat myself like this, by not doing the things that'll produce the more important results down the road apiece (sorry, that was an early Stones reference). And no matter how much I think about it, and acknowledge the problem, it doesn't seem to get any easier to remedy it. I just don't know how to do anything that's not natural to me, and so I keep on continuing the way I've always known how. I have to wonder if it's anything like what an addict goes through, who realizes the problems his addiction is putting him through, but can't seem to shake it no matter how he tries. Except I'm not really addicted to anything (except leisure...and comfort). It has to be a bad wiring in my brain. But how can it be fixed? Can it be fixed?

Journal 004

I got up today as usual. I made it to dinner just in time to catch an uncomfortable argument between my two brothers. Fortunately, I had no part in it. Basically, my older brother was more or less drilling my little brother on his life plans, while my little brother was pretty much purely on the defensive. It was a frustrating argument to witness, because there was clearly no leniency to be had. My little brother wasn't about to take advice clearly given from the perspective of The Man, and my older brother was clearly not about to give in and concede that any part of my little brother's plans were smart, or right. They were coming from completely different angles, and in my opinion, there was nothing to be gained; I was just glad when it ended. My dad came into the kitchen and asked my older brother a question about some athlete (hockey player?), and my brother got into this whole long discussion, since he's clearly a huge fan of that whole world. Maybe it was purely coincidental, but I have a feeling that maybe my dad was secretly just trying to give my brother something else to talk about, rather than ragging on my other brother. Either way, it worked.

Being the second Friday of the month, tonight was an Open Stage night at the den. Just before eight (I like to be fashionably right-on-or-slightly-past-time), I packed up my guitar and amp and my brother and I hopped into the van for the less-than-five-minute drive up to the den. For tonight, I chose Godspeed You! Black Emperor's Slow Riot For New Zero Kanada EP, which I got for Christmas, for our listening pleasure. When we got to the den, my brother rushed in ahead of me. As I was walking in, he said we had to go back to get his harmonicas, since he was apparently recruited to jam with the Stickman!

Getting back the second time, the fun began. I got to see the end of The Primatives' opening set (they're the folk rock band that runs the Open Stage). They did Never Again, a song they haven't played much recently, but that my brother has made a habit of covering periodically. And to close, they played All Along The Watchtower, which is one of my favorite covers that they do. It sounded really good. The first time I heard them play that song, it opened me up to a whole new perspective on the meaning of it, and I've appreciated the song even more ever since then. Hendrix's version with the lead guitar is awesome, but I still think The Primatives' version has the most meaning.

My bro played harmonica on Mary Jane's Last Dance with the Stickman and another regular at the den on guitar and vocals. (For the uninitiated, the man known and referred to here as the 'Stickman' is an awesome musician who regularly plays the Chapman Stick - look it up if you've never heard about them before, it's like a combination of a bass and a regular guitar, essentially a guitar with the range of a piano). After that, I paid less attention to the performers, and more to my warming up. When my set came up, I did my regular shtick, with the whole madness thing, this time emphasizing my appreciation for the invention of electricity. A recurring theme in my thoughts of today is the fact that I much prefer electric music to acoustic music. It's always been that way for me. The stinging bite of a good tone is worth everything in this world. And that's to say nothing of feedback!

After the show ended, the core group (consisting of The Primatives and their closest den friends, as well as my brother and I) headed out for a late night snack. This week, it was the local pizza shop which happens to be open till like 2am on Fridays and Saturdays. We had some good old general hanging out, with some good old classic pizza, and then eventually returned home.

My dad and his good friend, who had both been at the Open Stage (the friend also performed - my dad was just there for moral support, and because it's a happening place, I'm sure), were still up shooting pool in the basement, as usual. After my dad beat his friend (like always), he challenged me and beat me in a best 2 out of 3. I also took the chance to ask him if he was interested in seeing Lez Zeppelin - the all-girl Led Zeppelin tribute band - when they come to town in February. I've been dying to see a Led Zeppelin cover band, particularly since seeing the Pink Floyd cover band The Machine, and Lez Zeppelin are supposed to be good. I missed them the last time they came through. I'd love to see it with my bro, but, like usual, it's a 21+ show...

So after that, the house finally quieted down, though it was already about 2am. I've been having a hard time tonight trying to balance my desire to be completely nude with my desire to be warm. It feels a little colder than it has been, maybe because I've been out of the house today. Actually, my first order of business - after getting undressed, ironically - was to take the garbage (just from my own room) out to the side of the house (something I meant to do days ago, but kinda forgot). It was brisk, indeed, but it was quick, so it couldn't hurt too much. Taking the garbage out (in the middle of the night, of course) is actually a great, and practical, excuse for going outside nude - and you can even do it in the cold, since it doesn't take very long! Still, I had to warm up under the covers in my bed for a few minutes after I got back inside. No point in staying overly chilled.

All that remained of the night then was just some reading, and catching up (only slightly) on some anime. So much to do, and so much to be done - and I have no work, no responsibilities! I don't know what to tell you. You might think, "well, if you're so busy anyway, why don't you just get a job and then you'll at least get paid for being busy?!" But it's obviously not that easy. Even though there's tons of stuff to do, it's still stuff I enjoy doing. And more importantly, there's a huge difference between doing my own thing in my own little world, and doing something 'worthwhile' out in the real world. Even if I knew where to begin (and it might be true that I do), there's still the matter of overcoming my fears of going out there...

Drugs

(This is a continuation of the discussion started in the previous entry titled "Hippie Ideals")

Hippies used drugs to expand their consciousness. It was a vital component of the whole intellectual revolution. Drugs let people step outside themselves, and helped them to feel the oneness of the universe. It mellowed them out, and gave them spiritual awakenings. I believe that drugs were an integral part of everything the hippie movement stood for. But that was also its downfall.

As sure as drugs can lift you up, they can also bring you down. And as the hippies were lifted up, they were soon brought down, hard. Adventure and experiment and expansion became addiction. Slavery of a whole other kind. Without drugs, I believe the movement wouldn't have been nearly as successful, or nearly as widespread. But the drugs destroyed the idealism of it all, in the end. The ideas behind the revolution were solid, and they would have stood strong on their own merits, but it was drugs that put so many people in the right state of mind to support it. This is the thing. I believe in a lot of the hippies' ideas, but from a purely non drug-influenced standpoint. So to me, personally, I feel the drugs are unnecessary. Though I understand that most people need them to get to this point.

Ah, drugs. I don't do drugs. Most people are surprised by that. I have long hair, and I sometimes dress like a hippie - which usually includes ripped jeans, tie-dye shirts, and round sunglasses. I'm a musician, I play guitar, and my favorite music is classic rock. I wear contacts a lot, which often irritate my eyes, causing them to become bloodshot. To a lot of people that don't know me very well, I am the stereotypical stoner.* But I already said that I don't do drugs. Not even casually. And it's not necessarily that I'm so against them that I don't think anybody should ever do them - it's just that I don't believe they're for me.

Here's where the tired rebuttal comes in - "but how do you know if you've never tried them?" Right, I've never tried drugs. I might have had maybe a sip or two of wine in my entire life (which tasted terrible, by the way), but I've never had a can of beer. I've never smoked a cigarette (frankly, I think they're disgusting). I've never smoked a joint, either. I've never taken a hit. I've never dropped acid. I've never taken pills, and I don't even like to take medicine for health purposes, unless the pain or discomfort becomes unbearable.

Now it's time to dig deep into my psyche. Why? Why not even a little try? It couldn't hurt, right? Sure, there's the fear of getting addicted, but I have enough faith in my self-discipline that I could at least try it without falling into an addiction. So, why not try?

I was good friends with a jam band in college. Their guitarist actually borrowed my guitar for their first real gig together at a Battle of the Bands in a local frat house. I've even sat in their 'circle' on occasion, but I've always passed up the chance to 'join in'. At one of their last shows before half the band (as well as myself) were to graduate, they did a round of shots in the bar they were playing in, before starting the show. They begged me to join, in celebration of all the times we'd had, but I refused. I feel bad about refusing, but I just wasn't about to take some alcohol. Especially not for the first time, in that kind of environment. But I was totally with them, just not on a chemical level.

The main reason I don't do drugs now is because I've resolved myself to avoid them. And part of the reason for that is that I've come so far without falling into that subculture. I feel like that's something unique, something that sets me apart from the average, and something that I shouldn't just throw away. But how did I come this far? A lot of it was the result of just not being a very social person. In high school, I never went to parties where people hung out and had beer and lots of fun. I wasn't part of that scene, or any scene, really. I didn't get into cigarettes because I was never one of those cool kids, or bad kids, that would try that. Nobody even really gave me the opportunity - but that's not to say I would have taken it, if they had.

Another part of my stance is just the whole image of that scene. I don't want to be part of the druggy scene, the stoner scene, or the drinker's scene. Going to bars and clubs is not for me. Furthermore, I've had some exposure to people on the influence of various kinds of drugs, and it doesn't impress me. Maybe it's really cool to be on their side of the portal. Maybe it feels great and all that. But from my side, it doesn't look so inviting. People that are high think that everything's so funny, and that everything's so deep and meaningful. But when you're talking to a clear-headed person, it's just a pain. It's like, yeah, okay, it's the drugs talking, you're not making any sense, and you just don't realize it because your head isn't clear. And drunks? Maybe they're funny sometimes, but I generally just think they're obnoxious. Slurred speech? I don't wanna exert extra effort just to understand what you're trying to say, especially when it doesn't mean a whole lot, anyway. Some drugs might make people more social, maybe even more friendly, but I don't want people to be paying lots of attention to me. I don't want them to be telling me funny stories that I have no interest in, when I'm preoccupied with something else. And I really don't want them to be hugging me and telling me how much they love me, especially when I don't even know who they are.

The key to it is that phrase, 'clear-headed'. I have a great amount of respect in truth, and I just don't believe, like some people might believe, that drugs get you closer to that truth. I feel that they just put more layers between you and that truth. So for me, what's the point? Maybe, if it made me feel good, then there might be some reason to try it. But what's the benefit in the long run? I don't want to deal with hangovers, or withdrawal, or hugging a toilet seat puking my brains out, or hacking up a lung, or anything like that. And maybe this is just the result of the perspective mainstream society has on (illegal) drugs, but I don't particularly want to deal with the types of people that peddle drugs, either.

I've thought about it, and if there was one drug that I would ever want to try, then I might consider trying acid, just from all the things I've heard about it. My one friend, who fantasizes about taking ecstasy by the way, always counters with stories of 'bad trips'. But does that mean there are no good trips? Anyhow, just the descriptions of the kind of experiences you can have on acid have made me curious, but get this straight, I'm not exactly looking for a source. I'm not about to give up the drug-free existence I currently have just for an experience like that. Yeah, some people say it can be life-changing. But again, I don't want my life to be changed by a surreal experience that occurred when my faculties were functioning on a whole different level than they normally do. I want to be wowed by something I can understand. Something I can reason about. Something that *I* can react to, not the drugs.

I'm the one steering this ride, and I'm not about to hand the controls over to someone else.

Still, I'm a lot more open about drug use than mainstream society is, and if you choose to take drugs, I have no problem with that. All you gotta understand is that I might decide not to hang around you as much. Depending on all kinds of factors. And that's all there is to it.

* On a somewhat lighter note, here are some experiences I've had where people have mistaken me for a druggy (and in some cases, a drug-dealer - no joke):

Back in college, when my best friend was just starting to get to know me, I had him over to my dorm room once. He must have got the impression, as many do, that I was a druggy, because, as he told me later, when I offered him some of my "special homemade brownies", he declined. I had no idea what the situation looked like at the time, because for me, I was just being a good host and offering some of the brownies my Grandma had made and sent to me. But now I look back on it and smile at the humorous misunderstanding. Luckily, that experience didn't hamper our developing friendship.

I was walking with that same friend once, heading back to our dorms after either shopping or eating at some place out on the main road (probably Wal-Mart), and a fazed-out dude walked up to us. I happened to be wearing a Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt - since, as you may know, Pink Floyd is one of my favorite bands. Well, the dude asked me where he could score some drugs. I told him I didn't know, but he insisted that he could tell that I was the kind of person who would know. He didn't give up, so all I could think to do was send him off in the opposite direction. I directed him toward the Dunkin' Donuts way down the street. I told him to keep walking til he got to the main road and he'd see it. I was referring to the donuts, of course. Lucky for us, he bought the story and headed off. I was a little worried at what he might have done if I hadn't given him any kind of satisfactory answer. It's a good thing neither one of us ever saw him again.

I went to a movie by myself once, fairly recently, at the dollar cinema. The girl working at the box office looked like a high school student, total goth-type. She took one look at me and asked me if I was high. I told her no, and she was like "for real?" As she got me my ticket, she mentioned that she was gonna go smoke some pot as soon as she got off. She must have realized I was telling the truth about not being high, because as I was walking into the main part of the theatre, she quickly said, in a worried voice, "don't tell anybody, okay?" I said it was cool. I'm not gonna bust somebody on that. I'm no druggy, but I'm not a narc, either.

Not far removed in time from that experience (it may have even been the same day), I noticed some kids in the parking lot hanging out by a van playing hacky-sack, while I was walking into Border's. I happened to be wearing sandals, tight jeans, a tie-dye Led Zeppelin shirt, and my hippie sunglasses. They noticed me when I went into the store, but it was while I was walking back to my van when they decided to get my attention. They walked over nonchalantly at first. I tried to ignore them, just hoping that they didn't want anything to do with me. But they called to me, saying something about needing help getting a pickup. In my naivete, I thought they were talking about needing a ride. In my confusion, they got the impression that I wasn't who they were looking for. I don't know if they were being honest, or just trying to cover their mistake, but they said I actually looked like a guy they knew. In any case, they left me alone and I headed off. It was sort of awkward, but because they were pretty cool about it, it wasn't a big deal. But I figure it's only a matter of time before it happens again...

Journal 003

I know I promised that hippie entry, but now that it's expected of me, I find myself avoiding the task. At any rate, you'll have it by the end of the week, I promise, or else it would have made no sense to do the hippie theme on my music log this week (which I certainly can't change now). In the meantime...

I actually forced myself to go to bed at a reasonable hour yesterday (meaning 7 in the morning instead of 10 in the morning), so I was pretty well-rested. I still got up out of bed at the last minute, though, to hop in the shower and dress for dinner. It was sloppy joe's, which I'm not so thrilled by, and Kraft macaroni n' cheese (the blue box kind), which I'm incredibly thrilled by. I heaped the mac onto my plate and ate a full helping before even considering the sloppies.

I was a little aimless after dinner, but I eventually got around to trying to hook up my guitar directly to my computer, in the hopes of recording some instructional audio tracks for my Quick Riffs web page. It was a failure. I tried plugging each of the holes, and I didn't get any response at all. So I'm not sure what to do now. But at the time, I ended up jamming out a bunch of the riffs with the distortion on my amp, just to convince myself I could still play them all (by the way, no sweat). I guess I kind of exhausted myself that way, and after the amp started getting squeaky for some reason, I shut it off and just lay there on the floor, with the guitar sitting on top of me, for a little while. Just relaxing.

Then, I spent some time reading. I read through the second of the two volumes of School Rumble I got for Christmas. Great series. I guess you know by now that I'm not much into comedies, but this is one of the exceptions. This series actually succeeds at making me laugh every now and then! Plus, this particular volume had one of my favorite scenes from the series - after the fireside dance where Eri dances with Harima, when she's sitting at home, refusing to go to school, partly because she's afraid to show her face after dancing with Harima, and partly because she's utterly confused about her feelings for Harima. The anime series describes the scene as "Eri feeling the blues". Now, considering that Eri is my favorite character in the series, you tell me that's not the perfect scene for me.

After that, I read through some of the books on nude photography I recently received, having ordered them partly as a birthday gift to myself and partly to encourage my interest in the field. There was a risque title on 'the art of rope' (if you know what I mean), which managed to be sexy without being too trashy. I also got a book of poses in the context of nude life drawing, which includes a CD that's supposed to be chock full of poses. I intend to practice some of those and see how well I can hold them for extended periods of time.

Additionally, there was a collection by Jock Sturges, a photographer I've come to admire for his portrayal of real people (as opposed to models) in a naturist context, regardless of age and gender. There seems to have been some controversy surrounding his work; I think the FBI actually charged him for involvement in child pornography, but it was clearly a defamation scheme. Although his photographs hide nothing, they are far from exploitative, and sexuality is never the primary theme, from what I've seen. There's a classic and very human soul in his images, and it seems his subjects have nothing but the greatest respect for him. All the more reason for me to support him.

Around 11 o'clock, after my dad went to bed, I got undressed. Nudity is hard to accommodate during the winter. Even with the heat on indoors, it still tends to be chilly. If it were up to me, I'd just crank up the thermostat until I'm comfortable, but I'm not the head of this household, and I'm not about to begin dictating the temperature of the house. Still, despite the weather being colder than it has been the past two days, it wasn't so bad in the house today. So I decided to go completely nude - no robe, no slippers, no nothing - and it felt great! It was a little chilly in the kitchen when I went to get some food around 1am, but I get the feeling that, unless I was bundled up, I would have actually *felt* colder had I been wearing clothes. It's a funny thing, but I've noticed that my body seems to be able to regulate heat more efficiently without clothing. Maybe I'm just trying to rationalize being nude as much as I can, but that's the feeling I've been getting so far.

My brother showed up in the kitchen, and we ended up having a surprisingly long (at least for me) discussion that was partly engaging, and deeply depressing. Basically, I kept trying to convince him that there were some good things in life worth living for, and at every turn, he shot them down with some counterpoint from his negative perspective. Seriously, I consider myself to be a pretty cynical person, but compared to him, I'm a life-affirming spiritualist or something. And it's really frustrating, too, because you realize that this is really what his life is like, and it honestly sounds like it sucks. You get the impression that, as he often confirms, death would actually be the only positive experience for him. And that really is depressing. I don't even know what to say to that, because it's really hard to embrace that sort of a perspective, and I think I've tried just about everything I can try to convince him otherwise.

The cat was generally being a nuisance during the conversation. Have I mentioned our cat yet in this blog? She's a Siamese. If that doesn't mean anything to you, then let me tell you this - Siamese cats are known for being loud, and being highly dependent upon human companions. In other words, they are ABOMINATIONS of the feline race! Anyhow, this cat in particular is named Sasha, and she's basically my mom's cat, except that my mom abandoned her when my parents divorced some 6 or 7 years ago (allegedly because the place my mom moved into didn't allow pets). And my dad's never been a cat person, so Sasha has really gotten the bad end of the bargain. And because of that, I want really bad to care for her, but there are two problems with that. Firstly, I am not an animal person. You'd think that a naturist, or even just a person who respects nature in general, would be an animal-lover. Well, allow me to be the counterexample that disproves that stereotype. I don't like animals. I think they're dirty, and it bugs me that I can't reason with them. If I don't like the way they're acting, there's very little I can do about it. Which brings me to the second reason I have such a hard time with Sasha. She makes so much freaking noise! She won't quit! Even in the middle of the night! When I'm slipping into the kitchen in the middle of the night, nude and naturally in ninja mode, trying not to attract extra attention, she comes out and starts screaming like a madwoman! I've tried many things to get her to shut up, but most of the time it just makes her more irritable - and louder! The best you can do is endure it, and wait for her to get tired. Which isn't a very good compromise, in my mind.

Anyhow, that's the situation. I have a hard time hating her (since I really am a kind person), but I have a hard time liking her, too. She ended up scratching me (inadvertently - she may be obnoxious, but she's not at all violent) quite significantly across the ribs. This is one of those situations where I would have benefited from having a little armor. Luckily, it didn't really hurt. I just hope it doesn't leave a mark. At any rate, the most it's gonna do is make me even more conscious of keeping that cat away from me. It certainly hasn't hurt my enthusiasm for being nude.

After the convo, a storm started kicking up outside. Not so much a winter storm, but more your typical wind and rain storm, with an emphasis on the wind. I still hear the wind howling out there now. When the wind gets in the back door, the space between the inner and outer doors creates a kind of wind tunnel, which makes some rather loud noises, that can be quite unsettling when you aren't expecting them. It's been howling quite a bit the last few hours. There was a very brief period when the storm went into overdrive. I went downstairs and peered through the blinds on the front door - the rain was falling so hard it was like a thick fog! Naturally, I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. I absolutely love storms - I always have. Something about the energy of nature in those aggressive moments just ignites my excitement. The porch was wet under my feet, even standing just in front of the door, well under the overhang of the roof. I could feel the rain sprinkling against my skin, being sprayed almost horizontally by the heavy winds. It felt exhilarating, and I would have just loved to have gone out and danced through it, but it was much too cold - too cold even to stand there for more than about a minute. Still, that minute was totally worth it. Those kinds of moments are one of the things I live for. They're one of the things that makes life for me worth living.