Oh look, something new.

Actually, there's not a whole lot going on... I just felt like I should put some new words up to cover up the smell of the last post I dumped here--it's rotting now, large chunks of flesh torn away by the crows, exposing the privative skeletal structure, the underdeveloped digestive system.

What better way to hide the corpses than to pile more on top?

Jiggety Jig

So I'm back in SoCal on Spring Break. I'm happy to be home, though the weather has been dismal. I was looking forward to sunshine...

I decided to take next quarter off--a fact my parents weren't terribly pleased about. It was too late, though. I already submitted the paperwork. They decided that if I'm not studying, then they're not paying for rent, which is fair, but cuts into the time I was going to devote to writing, practicing bass, and drawing. It sounds very much like I'll be working instead of doing two of those things.

I'll probably end up doing some work while I'm down here too. It seems like a waste of a vacation, but I need to pay rent next month. On the upside, I'll never have rend this low again, and paying my own rent will never be this cheap again.

I have some things I want to accomplish while I'm home. The top on the list is working on my graphic novel project, which I have been neglecting more than I like to admit. I'd like to get some serious progress made on that.

I miss my bass, and its going to be hard not practicing for 21 days.

I also want to spend a good deal of time in the gym. Three weeks is enough time to make slight changes in physique, especially with an extreme program. With the gym only 5 minutes away, the challenge is going to be avoiding injury.

Thats about it. I'm looking forward to seeing Megan-- something that has occurred only once since we graduated high school.

Its good to see my friends again. They all seem to have genuinely missed me. I think I'm going to hit up Ray for some graphic novels... I need to do research.

Not Poetry

I used to have a voice

That could sing the birds from trees.

I could warble with the worthiest of songbirds.

But now I sing for you,

To a slightly gruffer tune,

And a tone that goes better with crows.

-

Because I need a break—

Been singing loud for way too long,

I don’t think I can take it,

And I’m tired of this song.

-

My mother used to say

I had a voice like an angel,

As cliché as that sounds…

It’s not demonic now,

But I suspect somehow

That both sides try to tune me out.

-

Because I need to rest.

My throat is cracked and torn.

I gave you all my best,

I don’t wanna sing no more.

-

Because I need a break—

I’ve been screaming way too long,

I don’t think I can take it,

And I’m tired of this song,

And I really need to rest.

My throat is cracked and torn.

You know you got my best.

Now I’m not singing anymore.

Kendo Club

The 2007 UC Davis Kendo Club

Here Comes the Sun

The weather is beautiful. Davis is known for its very cold, very wet winters, its wet, sneezy spring, and its stifling summers. We have not seen either of the first two, and seem to have skipped to a moderately warm summer. I know summer is coming, and I'm kind of worried about that. It reached 108 last year, and they had a cold season before that.

I've come to believe in global warming. I was cynical, but the weather is just too nice to not be an indicator of catastrophic climate shifts. Where did the cold go? It only barely dropped to freezing for a few weeks during winter. Where is the rain? We got maybe two weeks of rain, not consecutively.

I fear the summer.

For now, however, the weather is beautiful. I left the window open last night as I slept. It was comfortably cold, and hopefully the heat of the day will be buffered by the cooling period.

I'm going to Oakland to see My Chemical Romance perform tomorrow. I'm pretty excited.

Today, I'm going to swim, eat sushi, then participate in some Kendo matches.

Life is good.

For now.

Until the arid equatorial belt widens to engulf the Cancer and Capricorn. Buy land in Canada.

OOOps

I just re-read my AFI post. I saw that I wrote that Havok walked out on the stage, like a man walking on water.

That doesn't make any sense.

He walked out ON THE CROWD, like a man walking on water, the people below him grasping at his ankles and holding him up.

There was a wave, a surge or excitement through the crowd and for a moment, he might have fallen, but his zealots stood firm.

Uh Oh

They're Coming. I knew it.

Awesome Freeborn Invasion!

I saw A.F.I. in concert. They came to my town. They played in my school. Freeborn hall was transformed into a circus tent of passionate madness.

I will admit with a healthy dose of shame that this is the first concert concert that I have attended. Everything else involved seats and a concern for acoustics.

The festivities began with a line that stretched around the Memorial Union. I knew I was in for a good time when the streaker sprinted his brisk way across the campus. Let me remind you that it's cold in Davis right now.

I was surrounded by people I wouldn't consider "my type". My piercing is pretty standard. My lack of tattoos or make-up, my serious demeanor, and my aura of virgin cleanliness set me apart from the other bodies. They could probably tell I'd never done this before.

The pat down at the door was lazy, and I'm not sure why I would try to hide anything in the ass area, but she checked it rather enthusiastically... I could have fit a knife and all manner of drugs in my boots. If they cared, they would have had me take them off.

The opening acts were okay. The first featured a stand-up bass and not one, but two ramping mohawks. They were musically talented, even if I don't personally enjoy the dark, throaty style of "singing". The lyrics, from what I could glean, were not as important as the intense speed and heavy chords. That's okay, though. They had a double bass. The second band, which I am told is traditionally despised, mostly out of mounting anticipation to see the main act, actually did suck. The singer, who might have done too many drugs, or might have been naturally vapid-sound, said the band's name at least six times, and I still didn't remember it. The bassist was lame. I was waiting for him to redeam himself, and show that what I was percieving to be bad habit was actually technique that I'd never learned--something totally plausible. But he clung to the same simple progression the way he clung the neck of his instrument--with little technical skill or artistry, and his thumb wrapped around the back, holding down his fingers.

I can't remember how many songs of the second group played, but I know that it was about four more than I would have liked. I do remember, however, that all of the songs had something about being dead in the title. All of them.

There was more waiting, and a good deal of chanting and jostling for position. At this point, I still had no idea what to expect. They started firing up the fog machine, which I feared would prove a little cheesy. I was greatly mistaken. The lights went out and the whole crowd surged forward, screaming.

I have to admit at this point that I have not listened to a whole lot of AFI. I don't know any of their songs by heart. I don't know the names of the songs, I don't know the words. I didn't really know anything except that they were a big name in a small town and that I was offered a ticket. I let the crowd carry me, and I let the music carry me, and I let the excitement take me, and we were one creature writhing at the feet of Davey Havok.

I decided that I am very very glad that I am big. I never really cared one way or another, but I love being built the way I am. I'm tall enough to see over heads, so I had a good view no matter where the crowd swallowed me. I am solidly built, so I could actually move the masses and create ripples in the pit. I wore boots, so I had solid footing whether it was foor or flesh I tred upon. There were a couple times when the backlash from a strong push would come too fast, and the bodies around me would lose balance and start to fall--harmonic frequencies meeting and cancelling, and bodies falling. I managed to lift the falling mass. It was very cool...

It never occurred to me that crowd surfing was done for more than a good time, butI quickly learned that it was being used as an escape when the pit became uncomfortable. Interesting.

I danced. I let the energy of the crowd fill me and I released it in wild flailings. The dynamics of this is amazing, and finding myself next to another person, and then two, and then twenty, and then the whole pit, suddenly jumping and writhing rhythmically, rippling outward from an epicenter, was thrilling.

I kind of wanted to ride the crowd. Some people were better at it than others, some surfing across in on their knees, throwing the horns and leaning back in glorious ecstasy, others rolling clumsily, almost falling through gaps, usually headfirst. To be honest, I really wanted to ride the crowd. I think I'm too big, and by the time I was fully absorbed in the moment, I had pushed myself within four or five body widths of the front.

Davey walked out on the stage. That was really cool, like a man walking on water. People clung to his ankles, screaming his name. They worshipped him. I was under him. I was close enough to reach up and touch him. I worship no man, though, and left my hands at my side and watched.

I wish I'd left my sweatshirt at home. I wish I'd had my hands free. I kind of wish I'd gone alone, too. I was invited by a friend from kendo, and I felt partially responsible for her safety, and partially obliged to stay near. I wish I'd had my hands free.

There reached a point where the dehydration was getting to me. My jeans were absolutely soaked with my sweat. My long sleeved shirt is still wet, sitting in my hamper. Gross. Anyway, where most people complained of being short of breath from having their chest crushed, I was feeling slightly sick. My abdomen is a little higher than most, see, and it was being squeezed. Vomitting would have been uncouth. A faux pas, one might say, and slightly unsanitary. Luckily, just as I was considering pushing my way backward in the pit--slowly, carefully, and unstoppably, unlike the girls who did not know and could not handle what the pit would offer and who desperately pushed toward the outer edges within minutes-- the music slowed to a ballads pace. We caught our breath, and we swayed gently, a forest of giants in that small dark world. One final song, one that even I knew, whipped us into a frenzy again before the show ended and the lights came on, too fast and too jarring for the collective to demand an encore.

I actually think we might have had our encore, but I was too engrossed in the motion of the pit to differentiate. Who knows.

I wish I knew the songs. I wish I could have sung along, could have had an internal anchor for the music. I would have tapped into it so much quicker, and the whole experience would have been that much more potent.

I was soaked, and I stank like a thousand hot bodies. I walked home with my shirt off, and it took twenty minutes of Davis night to bring my core temperature back to normal human levels.

I want to do it again. I want desperately to be in there again. Next time, I'll know the music, no matter which band it is.

A Ferocious Inanity Always Fears Intelligence And Fights Intuition: Another Failed Insight

Where have I been?

Its been quite a while since I posted. I have a good deal to catch up on, and I'm going to exclude a good deal as unimportant.

I started playing bass guitar. I got a killer deal on Ebay, because someone didn't know how to sell. I took a risk and got a $180 bass for around $50... I've been practicing that quite a bit. I've begun listening to and appreciating bass lines now, much like I thought was was appreciating guitar after picking up Guitar Hero. I don't have time to play that game anymore--I'm learning the real thing.

What else?

I saw Kodo perform at the Mondavi Center. That was back in January. It was incredible. Kodo is a taiko (japanese drum) troupe of the highest calibur. They are travelling performers in the oldest, most traditional sense--they live together, train together, and their skills extend beyond the incredible drumming. I'll write more on this in another post. Right now, I'm just doing an overview...

I'm writing with ferocious frequency. I bought a Moleskine notebook that follows me everywhere. I'm quite pleased.

I'm getting into the shape I want (finally). I'm seeing a difference, and the belly fat is finally starting to melt off.

My brother is at Basic for the USMC. I am proud to tears. There's a story here too. Another post, another post...

I'm going on a roadtrip this summer. We're going to drive a van through america and see what we can see. I'd like to have a collage of 48 photographs, next to 48 "welcome to" signs. We'll see.

My room is finally clean, and my laundry is all done. That hasn't been true since January... Gross, I know.

My shoulder is almost better. I've started some more serious physical therapy to get myself back into the game...

UUUUuuuum... I started watercolors again. I'm not very good. i need practice.

I think that's it...