Almost
birds. flight. points of view. trees. mary jane. molly. jack. poison. advertisements. art. creation. relativity. space. women. tragedy. fables. choice. fathers. ideas. philosophy. love. revolution. freedom. nature. species. consciousness. sleep. light. rainbows.
timelines. words. stillness. dreams. and the word almost.
timelines. words. stillness. dreams. and the word almost.
M
M is for the mysteries in existence.
M is for the moods we experience.
M is for the myths after surprise.
more M to soon arise.
like the sun the next chapter blinds
it comes around as a constant remind
of birds chirping tunes of things that exist
likes of which mortal hands can't grip
moments vibrate front of face
little does one know how things take place
to infinity and beyond the smallest connections
are really just another drawn out reflection
the artist urges the viewer to perceive the complexity of subjects deeper than the understanding of words by definition. to be more conscious of things in essence more pure to self. to intangibly grasp the feeling and just feel in silence.
in truth, i'd never known such beauty
that could bring so much through me
not just style and grace, but something more
that moves creativity place to place
so we invent things liken to fix
time, space and emotions to stick
to do what we feel in different capacity
making most of human tragedy
what's the excuse for a muse ever the question
some things we just don't know -the great life lesson
the color the sound the emotion defined
explained to those thoughtful and blind
past the manifestation of obsession
draws a religious collection praising nothing
but something to admire and imagine
aside from developing one approach and tapping into different projects, the artist inverts and experiments with different methodology upon one single focus, the muse.
M is for the moods we experience.
M is for the myths after surprise.
more M to soon arise.
like the sun the next chapter blinds
it comes around as a constant remind
of birds chirping tunes of things that exist
likes of which mortal hands can't grip
moments vibrate front of face
little does one know how things take place
to infinity and beyond the smallest connections
are really just another drawn out reflection
the artist urges the viewer to perceive the complexity of subjects deeper than the understanding of words by definition. to be more conscious of things in essence more pure to self. to intangibly grasp the feeling and just feel in silence.
in truth, i'd never known such beauty
that could bring so much through me
not just style and grace, but something more
that moves creativity place to place
so we invent things liken to fix
time, space and emotions to stick
to do what we feel in different capacity
making most of human tragedy
what's the excuse for a muse ever the question
some things we just don't know -the great life lesson
the color the sound the emotion defined
explained to those thoughtful and blind
past the manifestation of obsession
draws a religious collection praising nothing
but something to admire and imagine
aside from developing one approach and tapping into different projects, the artist inverts and experiments with different methodology upon one single focus, the muse.
Pieces of ...
Via www.deathcabforcutie.com/news
07.26.10
Hollywood Bowl "Transatlanticism" Finale: Video Compilation
A number of fan-made videos popped up on YouTube following Death Cab for Cutie's performance with The L.A. Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl last year. YouTube user CptGabok took a handful of those videos and put them together to make this awesome compilation of the "Transatlanticism" finale!
some footage i had taken is included in this beautifully edited recreation of time.
07.26.10
Hollywood Bowl "Transatlanticism" Finale: Video Compilation
A number of fan-made videos popped up on YouTube following Death Cab for Cutie's performance with The L.A. Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl last year. YouTube user CptGabok took a handful of those videos and put them together to make this awesome compilation of the "Transatlanticism" finale!
some footage i had taken is included in this beautifully edited recreation of time.
Eyes Set Sail
i want to hear what you have to say. i'm interested. tell me all the smallest details that will make me fall in love with you. then do that thing you do with your eyes and the fringes of the bangs that fall scattered between those dark eye lashes and eyebrows neatly tried and full. i want to hear about the women in third world countries you met on your summer help tour that looked to you so motherly to teach them of your wisdom and compassion. you tell me you felt sorry for them for how beautiful they were. they are a little naive yet humble and still courageous to nature. most importantly, they respected you. this is when i feel your deep connection with things in bigger senses.
i want you to tell me about who you met in the waiting room of the auto center as you passed time for your oil change. it's always someone old and alone. even if it was interesting, you kept picking their memories making them shovel heaps of details and feelings ever producing the greatest of story tellers. you don't, but i know, they leave with their day made a bit brighter because of you. and you never have to say much.
you dress weird. i never know what's next and those colors, i didn't think would ever go together. you wake up in time periods and i enjoy it. it's funny how you always end up the same person. and i have a little secret. those colors don't go together at all, but you get away with it and everyone loves you. that makes me hate you a little bit. because i know.
soon, you tell me about how things became a mess and how you feel stuck. you complain about your job. it gets moodier, and as you go on, i wish i had been there when you were to help you along. the cracks on the corners of your lips will rise and you begin enthusiastically about your next new adventure and how all you need is a little time. but who's counting? you invite me with you as you glance your head towards my direction. i will sit there dumbfound not at the fact that you said that as conversation filler or were tired of talking and wanted a verbal relay baton to transition, but that it actually spills out of your mouth.
we will have spoken too long and are tired, but always propose each other to a home movie and we both say yes for our own good.
but i never hear what i want to hear and you never tell me these things.
so i start to stare into her eyes. i look for some spark of life that i can connect with and i can't find it. she resonates her own light, but it's me that doesn't see the depth and my eyes become those ocean eyes.
i want you to tell me about who you met in the waiting room of the auto center as you passed time for your oil change. it's always someone old and alone. even if it was interesting, you kept picking their memories making them shovel heaps of details and feelings ever producing the greatest of story tellers. you don't, but i know, they leave with their day made a bit brighter because of you. and you never have to say much.
you dress weird. i never know what's next and those colors, i didn't think would ever go together. you wake up in time periods and i enjoy it. it's funny how you always end up the same person. and i have a little secret. those colors don't go together at all, but you get away with it and everyone loves you. that makes me hate you a little bit. because i know.
soon, you tell me about how things became a mess and how you feel stuck. you complain about your job. it gets moodier, and as you go on, i wish i had been there when you were to help you along. the cracks on the corners of your lips will rise and you begin enthusiastically about your next new adventure and how all you need is a little time. but who's counting? you invite me with you as you glance your head towards my direction. i will sit there dumbfound not at the fact that you said that as conversation filler or were tired of talking and wanted a verbal relay baton to transition, but that it actually spills out of your mouth.
we will have spoken too long and are tired, but always propose each other to a home movie and we both say yes for our own good.
but i never hear what i want to hear and you never tell me these things.
so i start to stare into her eyes. i look for some spark of life that i can connect with and i can't find it. she resonates her own light, but it's me that doesn't see the depth and my eyes become those ocean eyes.
hourglass thoughts
day and night. black and white.
hot and cold. soft and bold.
i didn't have to be told how my behavior
was too extreme for anyone's favor. really.
he had caught himself slipping and everything foiled and collapsed through his fingers like sand. how could he expect a machine to run so smooth? man made operations call for absolute room for error. no doubt. so it starts with it never being in his own personal control in the first place.
he took a deep breathe. this time, he remembered to do it right. breathe it in ever so ever so ever so deeply and then exhale, venting it like fog. you only get to do it once. and get over it.
he lost faith in people. their selfish obtuse perspective that was anything but acute. everything in their own right as it fits best for themselves carrying it further to over-obsessing and adding about amongst their collectible fortunes.
he was stuck in an hourglass not knowing which way to turn. the future was bleak but it was already set in motion. the past, never able to catch up with either. two worlds always running into nothing. that was his problem. everything in his life seemed to move quickly. everything that seemed solid would particalize. thoughts like grains falling so fast falling so fast so fast hitting hard bases.
he drove himself acidic. it was as if he was moving in cranberry jello, the only flavor made of real fruit. as real as he tasted it and as fruity of a predicament his reality was.
he had to realize he was in control. he was a gear in the machine and amongst the unique rates other gears were grinding to movie the machine, it all still functioned, just not as perfectly. it will never be perfect. never and perfect are two words that belonged together.
at the end of that breathe, time shifted and he was in a brand new direction.
hot and cold. soft and bold.
i didn't have to be told how my behavior
was too extreme for anyone's favor. really.
he had caught himself slipping and everything foiled and collapsed through his fingers like sand. how could he expect a machine to run so smooth? man made operations call for absolute room for error. no doubt. so it starts with it never being in his own personal control in the first place.
he took a deep breathe. this time, he remembered to do it right. breathe it in ever so ever so ever so deeply and then exhale, venting it like fog. you only get to do it once. and get over it.
he lost faith in people. their selfish obtuse perspective that was anything but acute. everything in their own right as it fits best for themselves carrying it further to over-obsessing and adding about amongst their collectible fortunes.
he was stuck in an hourglass not knowing which way to turn. the future was bleak but it was already set in motion. the past, never able to catch up with either. two worlds always running into nothing. that was his problem. everything in his life seemed to move quickly. everything that seemed solid would particalize. thoughts like grains falling so fast falling so fast so fast hitting hard bases.
he drove himself acidic. it was as if he was moving in cranberry jello, the only flavor made of real fruit. as real as he tasted it and as fruity of a predicament his reality was.
he had to realize he was in control. he was a gear in the machine and amongst the unique rates other gears were grinding to movie the machine, it all still functioned, just not as perfectly. it will never be perfect. never and perfect are two words that belonged together.
at the end of that breathe, time shifted and he was in a brand new direction.
blanket eyes
the interstate was blanketed with a misty sheet of fog. head lamps passed numerously and repeatedly overhead as if they had momentum of their own, evenly spaced- passing, passing, passing, curving with the road. he was lucky to be driving on smoothly paved highway, especially in los angeles, a metropolis shooting veins of freeways. it was coasting. driving. and jonathan was sitting. comfortably. the constant wiping of the wind shield wipers were usually enough to annoy, but this time, it didn't bother him. he saw it's purpose and everything seemed to make sense. his view was clear even as the translucent film from mist coated the windshield, blinking with each wipe. he flashed in a dream sequence where beds just magically float in the night sky and stars stuck around glowing beautiful warm hugs to those who just paid attention, putting you in a trance sending you to marshmellow rest.
arcade fire choired his ears, sending him to see ghost towns with thoughts of empty parked cars aligning the streets. he imagined this for long stretches, because he knew the world had a lot to offer and everything was endlessly hiding. he knew there was amazing light eclipsed behind all the closed doors and the fog that flooded the canals of streets set an unearthly nature in it's undiscovery. jonathan wanted to discover the hidden coves. he wanted to observe the differnt animals and note their odd behavior. to him, it never got old.
he just drove and soon took note that he was following the direction of telephone wire heading east. at this pace, he would detrimentally run into the sun. he wanted the fog to last forever. the sun would shine and unmask time, devilish details and the otherworldly. no, no, no. just give me time, jonathan chimed. please.
the ultimate wish.
he barely began feeling as if he were headed towards his great adventure away from home.
if his moment had stretched for a month, jonathan was sure he would instantly embark on the cross country road trip he knew he would never do. the weather and climate would change to his unliking. but time changes. jonathan will never get used to time.
arcade fire choired his ears, sending him to see ghost towns with thoughts of empty parked cars aligning the streets. he imagined this for long stretches, because he knew the world had a lot to offer and everything was endlessly hiding. he knew there was amazing light eclipsed behind all the closed doors and the fog that flooded the canals of streets set an unearthly nature in it's undiscovery. jonathan wanted to discover the hidden coves. he wanted to observe the differnt animals and note their odd behavior. to him, it never got old.
he just drove and soon took note that he was following the direction of telephone wire heading east. at this pace, he would detrimentally run into the sun. he wanted the fog to last forever. the sun would shine and unmask time, devilish details and the otherworldly. no, no, no. just give me time, jonathan chimed. please.
the ultimate wish.
he barely began feeling as if he were headed towards his great adventure away from home.
if his moment had stretched for a month, jonathan was sure he would instantly embark on the cross country road trip he knew he would never do. the weather and climate would change to his unliking. but time changes. jonathan will never get used to time.
DCFC & The LAPhil
It was a beautiful Sunday evening at the hollywood bowl where the New Pornographers along with Tegan & Sara, opened for Death Cab For Cutie. It was most especially a treat, for DCFC played half their set with fifty members of the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra. Songs ranged from their first album (released a decade ago) to their latest. An everlasting array of fireworks launched as the musicians wrapped the last song of their set- Transatlanticism. The event was breath taking and I wish the world was there to see it. Amazing.
Spectacular.
also, mystery girl from the parking lot, message me hello!
Spectacular.
also, mystery girl from the parking lot, message me hello!
MOCA- Engagement Party
The Museum of Contemporary Art in downtown Los Angeles is hosting summer night Engagement Parties the next couple of months. The Engagement Parties are held the first Thursdays of the month. These days are generally free museum days and after the museum from 7-10pm, the festivities begin. This year, artist collective, OJO, a local Los Angeles music group are staging various audience participatory acts. On June 4th, OJO debuted an act called "Color Chorus." Upon arrival, patrons were given shirts in either blue, yellow or red along with a plastic egg filled with beads to act as a shaker. OJO played a jumble of beats and eclectic rhythm getting the color coded people to chant designated hums and words to the choreography of strobe and colored lights. The turn out was big, even stopping tourists to join in on the performance. As the sun set, it became very dark in downtown with the exception of office lights hanging on the tall skyscrapers surrounding the space of primary color. But most dazzling was the dancing and singing that became very tribal and expressive.
The Kills The Horrors
The Kills & The Horrors play together during an encore at the Glasshouse in Pomona, CA.
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