Gavin Harrison on Technical vs. Musical drumming

Though he’s talking about drumming, Gavin really hits on a key point that always frustrates me when dealing with L.A. instrumentalists. I feel as if people spend way too much time studying how to play, as opposed to what to play. My rehearsal studio is full of players who can execute really difficult lines, but I’d rather they were just executed. It sounds terrible, and what’s worse is they don’t even listen to each other, so it’s a bunch of guys playing too many notes at the same time. They’re fighting rather than cooperating with each other. The sheer waste of talent blows my mind sometimes.

It’s those who think more along the lines of restraint and placement that really stand out, and that’s who I’d want in my band (over a great technical player) any day.

I have not been around…

…because I’ve gone completely monk on the current project. Just sent out an email to collaborators, so hopefully more to report in the near future. In the meantime, enjoy this photo of Kurt Cobain with a cat.
Just this guy and a cat.

Urceus Exit – Compensation for the Sound of Silence (disc 1)

It’s a tough thing, in this ever changing world, to be aware of one’s history while at the same time yearning for something new and different, and I’ve found that the electro sector has had a hell of a time trying to figure out what to do next. They often lean too heavily on either putting more in or taking more out, and it turns me off.

That said, I found Compensation for the Sound of Silence to be an extremely pleasing mix of those two options. In a word, I would describe this music as “undulating”. I got the very vivid impression that I was standing in a dark room, when suddenly the darkness began to shimmer and vibrate in the shape of sine waves, neurons, and, at times, a chorus of pale hands trying to rip me to shreds. I mean this in the best possible way.

Fitting to the album title, Urceus Exit remembers their most important tool in music… namely, silence. While there are few true pauses, almost every track makes sure to remind us that, while driving beats, arpeggiated blips, soundscapes, and baritone vox are here to help us that, eventually, all undulation ceases. Then it drives back in again. It’s a pleasing thing.

The overall sound achieved thankfully avoids the muddiness you sometimes run across in this genre. As a final touch, at key moments I was blown away by some truly compositional harmonic flavors, leaving me with a final impression of Voltaire meets Download. Head on over to urceusexit.com to learn more, purchase, and contact.

And a bonus:

Urceus Exit
by Austin Henry Dobson

I INTENDED an Ode,
And it turn’d to a Sonnet
It began a la mode,
I intended an Ode;
But Rose cross’d the road
In her latest new bonnet;
I intended an Ode;
And it turn’d to a Sonnet.

Music Review: “Anymore…” from Bryan Titus

The greatly anticipated debut album from singer/songwriter Bryan Titus has finally arrived. It is a labor of love and the result of many years hard work… and brother, it shows.

The album opens up with the deliciously mischievous A Little More, letting us know to expect the unexpected. Already we get a sense of the enormous personality of Bryan’s vocals, not to mention that great sense of fun so obvious to those who have seen him perform. Then we ramp it up for the stirring song from whence the album gets its name, only to slow it down with the anthem-level You Got Life. The song order manages to showcase Bryan’s diversity without being jarring, and as each song progresses we are lulled into the sense that anything goes, and that’s okay.

“Anymore…” is dedicated to the memory of Bryan’s father, so it’s appropriate that it ends with a chilling cover of the Alice in Chains classic Man in the Box. More than any other track, this one really displays the emotive quality of Bryan’s singing, as well as certifying his strong rock roots. It also further cements his ability to pull together a variety of genres into a cohesive record… Or show, or house party, or secluded field, or whatever. Seriously, the guy plays everywhere. There is probably some little green guy wearing a Titus shirt on Mars. He’s certainly been playing up a storm around L.A. for years, relying on word-of-mouth and fierce online support to gather his ever-growing crowds of adoring fans at locally cherished venues like the Mint, House of Blues, and Harvell’s. I’m happy to report that his studio of choice somehow managed to translate his charisma to track, thus providing you and I with an authentic listening experience so often lacking in contemporary popular music.

In addition to his outstanding vocals are the lilting slides/balls-out riffs of the versatile John Weed, and the masterful rhythms of drummer Jeremy Miller. Both of these musicians truly understand Bryan’s music, and it makes each track both cohesive and interesting. Just listen to relevantly titled A War Inside to see what I mean; as John’s guitar sidles alongside Jeremy’s marching snare (think Paul Simon), the tune grows all the more meaningful by the reinforcing of its theme. Then listen to SMC student favorite Numb to get an idea of their impressive range, a skill that grows increasingly important in the 15-second window of the modern world. Throw into the mix Will Weissman’s brilliantly understated bass lines to keep it all moving forward, then add a bit of fantastic production and lush vocal harmonies, and you’ve got a fully dynamic sound that manages modernity without forgetting its roots.

While I could harp on for a while about the incredible performers and engineers involved on “Anything…”, put together on a shoestring budget with a lot of old-fashioned elbow grease, the overall vibe is one that places excellent songwriting absolutely front and center. It is impossible to overstate just how much the world needs more music like this. I give this album 5 indie stars out of 5.

Find out more about Bryan Titus at bryantitus.com, iTunes, and his Myspace.

The Absolute Cheapest Food Strategy in the Universe for the Starving Musician

I don’t sleep much and I’m pretty active, so by way of compensation I eat enough food for two or three people per day. I’m also solar-powered, but I’ve found you don’t really need more than ten minutes of direct sunlight to recharge the battery cells. Anything more than that and I start to hear my DNA complaining.

I’m also constantly, exceedingly, headcrushingly broke at all times. Besides rent, my biggest expense by a long shot is food, but I’ve been able to pare that down quite a bit by developing a short list of basic and efficient foods. There are a lot of cheap ways to skimp on food for a while, but few are long-term, and this one will actually provide everything you need to sustain life and sanity for a much longer period of time than a month. What most people consider to be “absolute cheapest” either taste terrible or are really bad for you, so they’ll cost you in the long run. This makes them inefficient.

To be efficient, a food must meet three criteria:

  1. The food must taste good.
  2. The food must satisfy a daily nutritional requirement
  3. The food must be modular.

By modular I mean that it must have the ability to interact with as many other foods as possible. For example, a grapefruit would meet requirement 2, and some crazy people even say it meets requirement 1. But you can’t really do much with a grapefruit besides cut it in half and stick a spoon in it. Which, trust me, only sounds like fun until you’ve tried it.

By contrast, let’s check out a crowd favorite: Peanut butter. Otherwise known as Deus ex legumica, nine point nine out of ten imaginary people agree peanut butter is delicious and a little magical, because no matter how many times you tell people, no one really believes you can just ground up the figure eight things and get an oily paste. Peanut butter is popularly known as a good source of protein, but it also has iron, some nice oils and a little bit o’ calcium. We’ll get to the oils in a bit.

As you’re probably already thinking, peanut butter is quite modular. Of course it goes really well with jam and some bread, but it also goes with apples, vegetables, and if you get the natural kind you can seriously eat the stuff on a spoon for a quick pick me up. And, while all the foods I’ll list here are going to be cheap, peanut butter is really cheap, clocking in at about 16 cents per ounce at Ralphs. It’s little light brown gold, s’what it is. Never buy so much as a carrot stick from Ralphs unless it’s on sale, and anything you buy from Whole Foods that doesn’t require black plastic tongs or a ladle should probably be shunned with vehement scorn.

The following is a list of other efficient foods I’ve taken a liking to, and they all fit in my minifridge, which I bought off Craigslist for $35. I’ll talk about each individually, but the basic guidelines are fiber in the morning, many snacks throughout the day, a well-rounded lunch, and a heavier dinner.

Cereal – If I can afford it, I buy Kashi Go Lean because it has more fiber, iron, and protein than many of the other cereals combined. It’s an efficient nutrient-per-dollar purchase, you see. I dole it out sparingly, and to make it last even longer I cut it with the (much cheaper) flavor of the week, which tends to be generic versions of cinnamon toast crunch, raisin bran, apple jacks, and frosted mini wheats. Just make sure none have corn syrup (Trader Joe’s is your best bet if you’ve got one). Never buy Go Lean Crunch, because it has less of the aforementioned nutrients. I really suggest you rotate regular milk (Vitamin D has the most nutrients) with soy milk and almond milk, because no matter how much research I do it doesn’t seem like one is particularly better than the other, only different. Almond milk is the most expensive of the three, but if you buy the boxed stuff you can store it for months, so you can live off of one payout for much longer. You can also make your own granola, which frankly is still more expensive unless you make it really boring or make a lot. Oatmeal works too, although I personally can’t stand the stuff.

Yogurt – I buy the Mountain High 2lbs Original Style vanilla. I’d buy other flavors, but they’re pretty hard to find. Most of the world laughs at America for its addiction to low fat yogurt, and I’m right there with ’em on this point. I do count the pounds, but the other way. I try to get as much fat out of my foods as I can. Perhaps this is because I exercise and rarely eat fast food. I might be wrong, but I’m probably not. I mix honey, jam, an available berry, or all of the above with my yogurt, which is so good for you I won’t even bother to explain why. Eat yogurt every day, and later come back here to thank me.

Apples and bananas – You gotta have fruit. Buy other stuff when apples go out of season. Bananas are always in season. ’Nuff said.

A massive block of cheese – For whatever reason, the two pound block of Tillamook Sharp Cheddar is always on sale at Smart ‘n Final, and it lasts even me two weeks. It goes on crackers, sandwiches, salads, soups, and most things you’d have for dinner.

Split top wheat bread – It’s very cheap and has plenty of fiber and iron. Various types of sandwiches are an obvious reason, but also spread some butter and jam and you’ve got breakfast toast. Will increase efficiency by sopping up leftover soups and salad dressing. It’s also cheaper than the wheat bread with its top still intact, and no one seems to be able to tell me why, so if anyone reading knows please illumine me via comment!

Jam/Jelly – Goes with the peanut butter, goes with bread, goes with yogurt, and supplies much needed sugar. We dig jam ’round here.

Butter and olive oil – Because not all of us can afford Omega-3. In America it’s the former, in Europe it’s the latter due to all that readily available wine/olive country. You’ve gotta have some kinda fatty oil in your diet, because your body uses those for some incredibly disproportionately important life functions. I always have both of these on hand, basically because olive oil tastes better on salads. You can use these in everything from soups to rice to bread, and leads directly to my next food.

Onions – While these go with stuff raw, I use them almost exclusively for cooking. I’ve yet to find a simple one pot dish that isn’t improved by sauted onions in butter and garlic. Speaking of which…

Garlic, salt, pepper, paprika, cumin, chili powder, curry powder, bay leaves – You can also throw in basil and oregano for good measure, but I personally didn’t buy more when I ran out. You can buy these spices crazy cheap from the farmer’s market, and toss them into all sorts of concoctions with wonton abandon. You’ll discover a lot of fun combinations, some better than others, and then later impress people by never measuring anything while you cook. And for the love of all things good and holy, buy the damn cloves and crush them your-friggin-self. Thank you.

Soy sauce, teriaki sauce, A1, worchester sauce, vinegar, etc – There are literally hundreds of cooking/flavoring sauces and everyone’s got their own personal tastes. You can put them on everything from meat to salad to stir fry and buy them in bulk for really cheap. Extremely essential.

At least one condiment – I choose spicy mustard. Don’t judge.

Sandwich stuff – I won’t presume to tell you what to put on your sandwich. Something green and leafy, something proteiny, something cheesy, and the condiment(s). Beyond that, knock yourself out. The protein is usually where you spend most of your money, but I get so sick of processed meats I’ll still occasionally splurge on the deli section at Whole Foods.

Leafy green things – Don’t buy iceberg. Just don’t. It’s a waste of money. All it does is make things crunchy, which broccolli does more cheaply and with more purpose. Whole Foods or your local farmer’s market will have an excellent selection of spinach, spring mix, kale, and arugula in bulk prices that will blow your hungry little minds. Which leads us right to…

Salad stuff – You are going to have to take up salad making. Honestly this is just good life advice in general. I buy whatever greens I want as long as the word “spinach” is involved and throw them in a big pile. Then I add whatever other vegetables are at my disposal. Then I add cheese, and something solid and probably glazed, and then I drench it in olive oil and balsamic. Sometimes I’ll add crushed, hard-toasted, olive oil-soaked bread, or slices of green apples or pears, or carrots, and voila! world’s cheapest delicious salad.

Potatoes – They’re cheap and filling and go with a lot of other things. Plus you get cred in Ireland and Boise, which are two places I feel we’ll need it when the revolution comes.

Sour cream – A list of what not to put it on would be shorter. I was frankly astounded at how many dishes sour cream improves. Also works for dipping veggies.

Rice – I’m sure many of you were waiting for this one. “But, Paul, which one?” you might ask. Well, I’ll tell you: Golden Rose Brown Rice. Good price, good flavor, and most nutritious. Boom.

Lentils, garbanzo beans/chick peas, black beans, red beans – There’s no substitute for a good bean, and these four are what I stick to. If you’re worried about gas you can soak the harder ones for a day, or just put a little GasX powder in there and it should be fine. Beans really are the magical fruit: The more you eat, the more you don’t suffer from anemia and rickets. Mix the various beans with the rice, the veggies, the spinach, the sauces, the bread, the cheese, the sauted onions and spices, and man you can have a different dinner every night for a month!

Cheap whiskey – Okay, stop me if you’ve heard this one before: You’ve been doing just soooo good with your food budget, and suddenly it’s Friday and you go out with your friends. Where should we go? How about a bar? Yay, a bar! What a good idea! Boom, next morning you wake up and wonder where that last $80 went. Here’s some advice: Stop frigging going to bars! And if you can’t do that, buy a flask and a coat/purse with big pockets on the inside. Drinking Guinness slowly also helps. Problem solved.

Last but not least, Tea – Like the oily stuff, scientists vaguely think they might know why, but they all agree that drinking a cup of tea every day is definitely a good thing. For the opposite effect, see coffee.

If you’ve noticed, there are things in this list that are not included in this list. That was a weird sentence. Anyway, I call such things “dessert”. You may think of dessert as something bad for you that you eat after every meal, but I think of it as overpriced delicious things. Blueberries, blackberries, strawberries, grapes, ice cream, brownies, soft drinks, candy, these will all add flavor to your life, but not much else based on our criteria for efficiency. In this category also goes steak or frozen burritos. However, if you don’t treat yourself to such things you’ll go insane and break down and everything will go to hell, like that time you vowed you’d never drink tequila again during freshman year of college, and then that time you broke that vow later that same freshman year, and drank more with less of a tolerance than you did the last time. Anyhoo.

I tend to try and make my desserts the efficient kind. Glazed walnuts and feta cheese are good examples. A simple chocolate bar or a bunch of berries will usual win out over ice cream, even though I love me some tasty chocolate dutch. But, like the whiskey, swearing off certain things is not only difficult and impractical; it’s just plain no fun. As you can see, I have a lot of fun with my diet, which is nerdy. I am this way because I have to be. Folks, meet the broke foodie.

And, finally, just listen to your body. It’ll tell you what it wants. I used to be a little bothered by the fact that, after a year of not eating the stuff, I literally could not eat fast food without feeling sick afterwards. To guys, this is a big affront to our machismo, since we pride ourselves on our strong stomachs (This is also why fewer women enter hot dog eating contests, among other reasons). I made peace with this fact because, (A) I couldn’t quite get myself back to eating the stuff regardless, and (B) I decided this was an indication that I was more finely tuned. I figured “finely tuned” was macho enough. Just give me that one, please.

This is my method. There are thousands of others. Please feel free to leave yours in the comments, and thanks for reading.

The Musical Monk: On consciousness and party games.

Something happened to me today at an intersection. As a guy whose brother is well on is way to his doctorate in cognitive science, and also as a guy who read almost 180 pages of GEB before conveniently forgetting to re-check it out from the library, I can safely say that my qualifications when discussing the science of consciousness are absolutely zilch.

But the cognitive sciences are a study not of the brain but of the mind, which sounds a lot like the opening credits of the Twilight Zone, and I’ve watched like seven Fourth of July marathons so I’m going to go ahead and talk about it anyway. But first I’d like to say a thing or two about party games.

I like parties so much I sometimes even go to them. Even though I live in a cave, I still go to the library often enough which means even I can’t avoid daily Facebook updates which seem to always involve event invites. I sometimes think I have more invites to friends events than I do actual friends.

I don’t know about you, but just because someone is a good friend of mine doesn’t mean I happen to know or particularly like their friends. This is not generally a problem until birthday season comes around (end of Spring, don’t ask me why). There are some friends whose birthday invites you just can’t turn down. You have to make an appearance and buy them at least one, two, or possibly eighteen shots just so they know ya’ll still cool.

My life and living situation is by all accounts unique. The usual icebreakers of “Where do you work? Where are you from? Where do you live?” all fall impossibly, embarrassingly flat. My work is lonesome, and I moved around a lot, and when you say you live in a cave with an electrical outlet people start edging away pretty fast. I can’t really blame them, so I’ve worked out a couple rock solid icebreaker party conversations to smooth out those kinks. You just have to ask one good question that every human being on earth can relate to that they’ve never been asked before.

One that never fails is this: “What position do you sleep in?” This works for several reasons, the first of course being that everybody sleeps, and second being that alcohol is involved. In addition, this question involves the word sleep, which you do in a bed, which is very close to a subject quite a lot of people at parties are quite keen on. Also, people just like talking about themselves, and they’ve probably never been able to impart this particular quirk to anyone besides their bathroom mirror. People will open up and tell you all sorts of stuff about themselves that frankly has nothing to do with their sleep position. One time this guy opened up to a crowd of strangers about his rough life as a kid, which blossomed out of his confession that he can’t sleep without hugging a blanket, pillow, or person. And, I swear, everybody sleeps in a different position, and some are pretty darn entertaining. Once this completely mainstream, unassuming girl said she sleeps on her back with her arms crossed over her chest like Dracula. Which is awesome, alluring, and slightly creepy.

Another great party game – which will eventually lead us back to the main subject, I promise – is “Impersonate your inner monologue.” It is always best to start off by describing your own so that people know what you mean, and maybe a few favorites you’ve heard in the past if it’s not your first time asking. For example, I have a friend whose internal monologue is voiced by Insecure Pimply Guy From the Simpsons. Imagine a puberty-ridden voice saying, “Oh my God everybody’s staring at me what do I do she’s gonna think I’m weird or that I’m crazy what did I say oh my Goooood!” A girl back in Tennessee says hers is a chorus of British children constantly echoing whatever she says in a singsong, sarcastic voice, making her sound completely crazy. Which isn’t really funny until you hear her do it, and then it’s hilarious.

In the heat of conversation and booze, people understand this question at once. If you were standing around the office water cooler, sure, you’d get that look people usually spare for the smelly guy on the Promenade who talks to lamp posts. But once they get rolling people can’t wait to chime in with their own inner monologue, eager to talk about themselves in such a revealing and unique manner. Almost everyone will come up with a voice even though they’ve probably never thought about it before.

I’ve always called mine Second-Guessing Micromachines Guy. For those of you who don’t know, in the early nineties there was a voice actor who was famous for being able to talk incredibly fast. He did a voice on the Transformers cartoon, but he was best known for doing these commercials for tiny collectible toy cars. This guy talked so fast he could practically fit War and Peace into a 30 second commercial spot. My inner monologue has always been that guy, talking crazy fast, expressing confusion at the world, wondering if how I was acting or what I was doing was correct or weird or possibly morally reprehensible. Not sure about the mustache, though.

But today at this intersection, something had changed. I had a pretty creatively productive day today, which I chalk up to waking up on a boat after a good rest and reading Discworld in the sunshine next to a beautiful girl. I could be wrong, but I’m probably not.

Anywho, when the ideas are churning I usually turn off the car stereo so I can, so to speak, hear myself think. At this intersection, I noticed that my inner monologue had changed. Second-Guessing Inner Monologue Guy was still there, but he had been pushed way in the background. Speaking softly but still overpowering him was someone who sounded a lot like me.

Now, here’s the thing. I’ve asked the inner monologue question at scores of parties, and no one ever, ever says their inner monologue sounds just like their speaking voice. First it’s boring and it goes against the rules of the game, and second people just don’t talk like they think. This is generally a good thing. But this new voice sounded almost exactly like mine, if a little breathier and maybe a semitone lower in pitch. I call this new voice the Explanatory Monk.

I found I was narrating the events at the intersection, explaning to myself why people were making each turn in such a way. Micromachines Guy would have said, “Whatsthatladydoing? Ishegoingtoturnorisnthe? Isitmyturnyet? Isthatpizzaguyinabighurrymaybe? Ohmygodtheyrebothgoing! Whatifweallgoandhaveawreck? Ohgeezwhatsmyinsurancecoverage? Aaaaah!”

Explanatory Monk says, “The Domino’s Pizza guy thinks it’s his turn. That’s okay because he’s turning right. It’s early in the morning and the woman in the Jetta is putting on her makeup, but she’s just seen the pizza guy. When she gets through let the truck go by. Now everyone knows it’s your turn.”

And I am not making this up. Those were actually my thoughts. I was calmly explaining to myself what was happening in the world, and reeassuring myself that everything was going to be okay. This might seem like an insignificant revelation to you, but I, personally, was shocked. It was so foreign yet pleasing and entirely in the moment. It was like discovering that my brain had been sleeping with the neighbor’s wife and had finally liquored me up and invited me in for a threesome. The first thing I did was pull over and write about it.

Since those first scribbled notes on which this article is based I’ve mulled it over a bit, and a few thoughts have struck me regarding what this all says about yours truly. I believe, first and foremost, that it’s indicative of my growing lack of confusion as I age. It’s no secret that I’m generally not a confused person. That’s not to say the world isn’t full of wonderous surprises, but as a rule those surprises no longer fill me with the idea that everything I know is wrong. If anything, I’m in a constant state of surprise that just further proves I’m correct when I say I know that I know nothing. And no, none of that was self-contradictory.

Frankly, this all struck me as not really very profound. What then occurred to me, though, was that there was a third thing happening at that intersection that allowed me to notice this second voice in the first place.

You see, when I ask people about their inner voices in a stale and sober situation, they’re generally confused. This is because their inhibitions are fully intact. At a party, drunk on alcohol and laughing with strangers, people don’t think before they respond. They just say what pops into their head. The answer that rides along this wave of conversation is always correct. I’ve never seen anybody go back on it. Sometimes I actually see them pause and play their response back in their head, nod in affirmation, and then carry on.

That pause is this third thing. It’s not even a presence or a third voice, although you might call it a third but silent voice. When we listen to our own internal monologues – not just talk about them or act by them but actually listen to the process of our thinking selves – we are tapping in to what today I’ve decided to call absolute awareness.

Absolute awareness isn’t the same as talking to yourself. It’s actually more like sitting quietly in the corner with a typewriter and recording your thoughts as they play out. It’s thinking about your own thoughts as they happen. It seems to me like this should be impossible, and I certainly wasn’t able to do it for very long. As soon as I noticed my noticing, I no longer was. Maybe a lifetime of Zen meditation would beef that recursive state up, I don’t know. But, even as this state of absolute awareness was retreating, I wondered at how familiar it felt. I soon figured out why.

It’s how I feel when I’m making music.

It’s practically cliche to say that there’s this mysteriously magical place from whence, with much practice and gusto, we’re able to draw all sorts of musical inspiration. The humanistic view, which is what I believe, says that this other place is actually a universal mechanism that we all share that just so happens to be really freaking hard to get to. I think of mine as an ocean with a trickle of idea bubbles, and sometimes it’s more than a trickle, and if I practice for years I can get really good at jumping off the deep end and treading water.

I believe that the many endeavors of a human individual are connected by this place, whatever it is for them, whether said individual likes it or not. I believe that the act of writing stories, and meeting strangers, and composing music all come from, or at least can come from, this secret and sacred place. Athletes, mathematicians, even particularly inpsired stock brokers can tap into this place. I’m telling you, everyone’s got it to some degree.

And, finally, I believe that as we grow older this state of absolute awareness becomes a place of dread. It becomes a distant and desolate land. Like the people who edge away when I tell them about my living situation, we learn to shut this place out for practicality’s sake because awareness brings discomfort and it doesn’t pay the bills. At least, not right out of college it doesn’t. And we’re all in such a hurry to pay bigger and bigger bills, aren’t we? Because, like, hey, did you know you’re gonna die some day? And you don’t want this fleeting life to be uncomfortable, do you? Horrors! I mean, discomfort is synonomous with unhappiness probably! We can’t have one single moment of unhappiness, perish the thought! Get your stupid awareness away from me! It sounds terrible and I want no part of it!

I’ve got something to tell you: I’m pretty fucking happy. And I mean that’s a deep happy. I’m particularly glad to discover that I like where my head is going as I grow older. Like a frog in slowly boiling water, I never even noticed the change until one day I ended up breaded and grinning on a plate with some garnish.

I don’t know who you are. I don’t know how you work. I don’t know if you’re Mocking Choir, or Simpsons Teen, or Dracula Sleeper or what. But I know that living my life simply and creatively has helped me learn about who I am down to my very core, and, holy crap, I didn’t run away screaming from what I found there. Beyond even that, it’s helped me make sense of a world full of people who all have their own little worlds floating around inside them, making their decisions and dreams and destinies happen and doing their very best not to muck up the place.

In short, I’m getting better at understanding. Just plain and simple truth and understanding. To me that’s worth just a little discomfort. Thanks for reading.

The Purpose of Music

The very first test episode of Blue Paper Mate. Maaaaybe next time not quite so big, since the blue paper mate-ness is a bit lost by such fine lines.