SHOES
Turn_it_up.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Blade Runner is getting a fancy new re-re-re-re-release
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I'm gonna own the new re-re-re-re-release of Smokey and the Bandit this week. You should too. Cuz it was fun.
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I'ma big fan of Robert Fripp, as a person and musician. He holds quite sacred the performance, power, and relationship that music is to people, especially in terms of performer and audience. He requires audiences no recording and photography of his performances and or King Crimson's. He recently reiterated why this is on his online diary. I thought it was good:
[RF responded to someone posting this quote on the a message board: "When you hear music, it’s gone... lost in the air... you can never capture it again." ]
As a player who has long argued against recording live music, there is much here that resonates with me.
The very attempt to capture a quality, as if it were a thing & material object, prevents it being "captured". A quality escapes our attempts to pin it down. Rather, when we abandon the attempt, and enter the moment, the situation has just changed: the moment becomes available to us. The question is then, are we available to the moment? This is a practical question, and available to practical answers.
A moment may be transitory, brief if measured by the clock; but a qualitative experience takes us into the eternal. Like, do we remember the first embrace with our Love? Do we recall the opening notes of ... (enter a title of your choice). Even, how can we forget a passing smile of a Mother’s love?
So, what do we do to remember a moment which is, in its nature, ephemeral? There are techniques, and forms of practice, to help us develop a deeper relationship with transitory events. Exceptional events, which present themselves unbidden, impress themselves upon us, regardless of our practice or experience. A qualitative experience, an entry into creative time, by definition puts us into a different relationship-in-time with the moment.
The fragility of the creative moment, its delicacy & vulnerablility, its richness only-to-be-held by letting it go, is a tragedy of the creative life; and also what makes it real. So, a reformation of the statement…
When you hear music, it’s arrived, and present in the air… you can never capture this moment, and it will never return. But the quality of this moment is eternal: you may embrace it & carry it with you, as it is also embracing & carrying you.
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The older I get, the more youthful my fascination becomes with sensing myself age and grow.
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Shatterpoints exist in the heart and mind, just like glass. A truthful push at the truest spot in a true moment can truly bring someone to pieces. And like a glass, we're puzzled as it felt like we barely squeezed when it broke in our hands.
=============
I'm gonna own the new re-re-re-re-release of Smokey and the Bandit this week. You should too. Cuz it was fun.
=============
I'ma big fan of Robert Fripp, as a person and musician. He holds quite sacred the performance, power, and relationship that music is to people, especially in terms of performer and audience. He requires audiences no recording and photography of his performances and or King Crimson's. He recently reiterated why this is on his online diary. I thought it was good:
[RF responded to someone posting this quote on the a message board: "When you hear music, it’s gone... lost in the air... you can never capture it again." ]
As a player who has long argued against recording live music, there is much here that resonates with me.
The very attempt to capture a quality, as if it were a thing & material object, prevents it being "captured". A quality escapes our attempts to pin it down. Rather, when we abandon the attempt, and enter the moment, the situation has just changed: the moment becomes available to us. The question is then, are we available to the moment? This is a practical question, and available to practical answers.
A moment may be transitory, brief if measured by the clock; but a qualitative experience takes us into the eternal. Like, do we remember the first embrace with our Love? Do we recall the opening notes of ... (enter a title of your choice). Even, how can we forget a passing smile of a Mother’s love?
So, what do we do to remember a moment which is, in its nature, ephemeral? There are techniques, and forms of practice, to help us develop a deeper relationship with transitory events. Exceptional events, which present themselves unbidden, impress themselves upon us, regardless of our practice or experience. A qualitative experience, an entry into creative time, by definition puts us into a different relationship-in-time with the moment.
The fragility of the creative moment, its delicacy & vulnerablility, its richness only-to-be-held by letting it go, is a tragedy of the creative life; and also what makes it real. So, a reformation of the statement…
When you hear music, it’s arrived, and present in the air… you can never capture this moment, and it will never return. But the quality of this moment is eternal: you may embrace it & carry it with you, as it is also embracing & carrying you.
=============
The older I get, the more youthful my fascination becomes with sensing myself age and grow.
=============
Shatterpoints exist in the heart and mind, just like glass. A truthful push at the truest spot in a true moment can truly bring someone to pieces. And like a glass, we're puzzled as it felt like we barely squeezed when it broke in our hands.
Friday, May 05, 2006
Thursday, May 04, 2006
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