Last year's ghosts

I died for Beauty -- but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining room --

He questioned softly "Why I failed"?
"For Beauty", I replied --
"And I -- for Truth -- Themself are One --
We Brethren, are", He said --

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night --
We talked between the Rooms --
Until the Moss had reached our lips --
And covered up -- our names --

-Emily Dickinson

The Musician, the Dancer, and the Saint

Think about it, a record is really a record! A record of a period of time -one which we can give our children, share with friends, and have for a reminder of somethings in old age.

An album of work, recording different emotions and ideas and sounds and voices; "Back when I had more hair and it was black!" says the future. I think my grandkids especially, will get a kick out of listening to Grandpa yellin; I know i love it when I hear my Grandpa singing. I hope it encourages them to find their own roars - as an artist I hope this in a variation en masse as well of course.

It is the quickest way to see the inside portions of my heart, and hopefully even one's own; for no matter how much it may seem that I have my heart on my sleeve - some piece of it (even unknowingly) - is hidden in my pocket; its singing and sounds are recorded here, in the wails and moans and whispers of 'Last Year's Ghosts'.

To listen to some of the songs, and even a home recording of a new song, click here -

• The album will be for sale within 15 days
• iTunes within a month
• Lyric sheet included
• Original Artwork included
• Listen for it on WYSO 91.3 in Dayton/Yellow-springs (they are online too)
• There will be an interview with some of these songs, and new songs, performed live and played off the record on WYSO's Excursions: Wednesday Oct 20th at 8:00 PM.

Got 35 songs ready to do another album! Let's go!

Walk in a lonely Garden with a God-woman

Have I told you of yet of my reoccurring dreams? I have only a few. This one is interesting and lately I have had what may be the sequels or prequels to this dream. I have had two additions so far. The baseline is the dream which began when I was ten years old.

Eighteen years I carried the following image.

It is walled in, a room, like a ballroom but a little smaller. The walls are covered in ivy and plush with life, the center has a fountain, the ground is softest grass and I'm not sure if there is a path or not. There is a strip cut out of the walls all the way up, as if when the walls were folded to make a room the math was wrong and it didn't connect all the way; that's the entrance. There is a small metal gate there with a little latch, it might be creaky, but its texture is old and rusty - black almost I guess.

Her dress is white and I haven't really seen her face before, but she is in there and I walk in - the dream usually starts after I'm in the gate, I never feel myself opening the gate - and then I go to her and we walk around together as if on display for people to see us walking - but it is only us.

There is a lot going on there, I sometimes feel as if she is there to walk me as one visiting a friend in a hospital or mental institution; sometimes I feel I am the butler and I am walking her about before she is going to go get married, and that further we have a love that we both desire but can never be because I am her butler and she my head of house. Other times it's my wife, but I don't talk to her much but appreciate her very much, she likes the silence and we are meeting with such kabuki however it's something we've become accustomed to doing. Like the last few shows of a long running play.

The fountain I think is always going.

She has a glow about her and I sometimes have gloves on.

More later.

Karan

Muse

I suspect my muse is a reminder of pain. My muse is my grounding, my love; what keeps me attached to earth - my muse's perfume comes over and around me when I am on her firm footing. That all is, and so all is beauty, even pain, only 'pain is just another shade' my muse reminds me-and then she reminds me of the beauty of color and I become unconcerned with which color meets my preference.

I may call my muse 'her' or 'he', 'them' or 'it' - regardless, she is formless in many forms and she has her way with me. Towards her I am truly powerless, and the worst time is when I have power against her! When I can keep flying higher and look down below, bewildered that she does not want to follow me in the sky, or that she is not above me; but how will I find my firm footing in the sky? My rock in the clouds?

For there, where I have firm footing, she sings to me; there, where my stomach-turns with my higher-flying is where her song becomes what I breath; but how, how will I find rocks among clouds?

On the tops of mountains.

JL

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

Scientific progress goes 'Boink'

I request the Jury take into account the following; I present my long standing love for Calvin & Hobbes. As with most things I say I 'love' - it involves respect, awe, admiration, desire and a tint of peace. I cannot say I would sacrifice for them, so I cannot then say I actively love Calvin & Hobbes, but the strip is very close to my heart.

Like others, namely TinTin, Asterix, some DC/Marvel, and especially Archie, Calvin & Hobbes were some of my best friends. I spent hours upon hours upon hours in their world when I was younger. As with most things I was so intimate with, I sketched them and they instructed the artistic muscles in my hand when I was young. I loved Spaceman Spiff, and the various gruesome Snowmen, and the talks and the everything. I would get really really excited when I saw a collection - it had that twinge when I saw it - a whisper in my young head, serious as ever, a reflex - "I have to have that" it said.

As an adult, a fairly young adult, I've taken on new things, poetry, music, little internet videos (which i swear are actually bad for my mind), video games and exercise and quitting smoking and a philosophy degree, etc. etc. etc. However I cannot say that these texts, Calvin & Hobbes included, do not somehow effect my present as so clearly I see them in my formation. Plus! With older eyes, different sides of the comics become hilarious. I can't wait to give them to the next generation someday...whose attention span I pray, is not ruined by twitter and typing in short script.

Selah.

The Love Movement

Hip Hop

Wrap me in your marrow, stuff me in your bones

Sing a mending moan, a song to bring you home

-Devendra Banhart

Just finished writing this

Tough day. So I took a lunch break. Maybe it's the absence of a lot of school work, or the over extended patience with myself trying to quit smoking for the umpteenth time. Whatever it is, i can say two things, I've not been so dissonant in a while, so it's fun; fun particularly to watch myself react and respond to it. My response time is not only improving, but my response is improving, my reaction is less - or feels less, and I think I have a good gauge judging by my immediate surroundings. Regardless, the point is the second thing I can mention - I wrote a song, fast, really fast, and I like it and I have no idea where it comes from. I birthed something is all, but the conception and gestation went by before I realized what was happening.

This hasn't happened for sometime, but man, it feels good. It's not one of my best songs, but it's a nice song, and it's not (in my opinion) as good as the other one I am working on whose title is yet unknown to me but whose first (maybe second!) verse/verses are done - and it's on par with the other other one - that one I might abandon to put my fire into this new son and daughter.

I'm listening to it now as I type. I dig the lyrics a lot. The melody is nice, I'm going to have to work on the guitar's swell and fall - it's flow could simply be better, though it's not bad now at all. Keep in mind I am on the precipice of a solid summer cold, and even then it's pretty nice. This has probably been the one thing besides my love story that has kept me in any kind of hopeful mood about my existence today.

Tell me what you think of these lyrics @ www.facebook.com/thefreshwater - - just send me a message.

We'll tentatively call it "Pretend like you know"

------------

Don't pretend like you're okay, i know it's hard to go on feeling this way/ It doesn't have to be alright, i'm two steps ahead giving up my good fight.

So go on, pretend like you know, you're always pretty when you're lying// Go on sweet girl I know you gotta go, cause you're the only one still smiling

There's no moment right now, the future ahead is just your head headin' out/ The past is what the present sees, the present is a moment you can never perceive

So go on, pretend like you know, you're always pretty when you're lying// Go on sweet girl I know you gotta go, cause you're the only one still smiling

[instrumental/Bridge] - Go on, I said go on, You're always pretty when you're lying, Go on sweet girl, cause you're the only one still smiling

Cannot tell you how I've been, your words aren't defined like mine/ Listen now, try and understand/ I pray your one man army doesn't work this time

So go on, like you know, you're only pretty when you're lying// Go on sweet girl I know you gotta go, cause you're the only one left smiling

You have to watch this of the day

Moments from Everynone on Vimeo.

I have a hard time understanding how anyone could not have an emotional reaction to something like this. Also, oh my gosh. Nothing but silence is required when a balance is struck so well; when Art, Philosophy, and Spirituality are glimpsed at their essence, which when seen, is seen to be the same thing - reflections off the same diamond. This echo's of God for me.

Karan

The formula for Greatness in a human being

AMOR FATI!

Leviathan

Truth also is the pursuit of it:

Like happiness, and it will not stand.

Even the verse begins to eat away

In the acid. Pursuit, pursuit;

A wind moves a little,

Moving in a circle, very cold.

How shall we say?

In ordinary discourse -

We must talk now. I am no longer sure of the words,

The clockwork of the world. What is inexplicable

Is the 'preponderance of objects,' The sky lights

Daily with that predominance

And we have become the present

We must talk now. Fear

Is fear. But we abandon one another.

-George Oppen

Magic Marketing: Your piece of history

I once went to a popular "non-denominational" church in Dayton Ohio. It was the new big draw. I used to go to both a traditional Catholic church and then a non-denom one - this new one was so new that it was drawing from the 'cool' non-denom church I used to attend. So I had to go check it out.

After the "Stomp" intro which had nothing to do with the Gospel but more of a school play feel, and following the applause, the pastor said "We like to break our own traditions here as well" - later on he alluded to the fact that a big problem with 'denominational' churches is them becoming entrammeled within tradition. However, before we move on, this church could not see its desire to 'break tradition' as a tradition in and of itself. Also, non-denominational is a denomination unto itself.

This intro is meant to show how important tradition is to our lives, or even we could say, our inability to actually get away from a tradition. How impossible it is for anyone to be an island. The fact that all our footing, even our unique thoughts, are standing "on the shoulders of Giants" - Newton.

We are traditions in and unto ourselves, and marketing, as it often does, picks up on this. This is the magic of marketing; the echo into our core - if done well. We cannot get away from our tradition - even if it's to 'break tradition' - and this type of 'Magic Marketing' speaks directly to that reality - by these standards, we aren't just buying a product, we're buying a piece of history.

Gatorade

BMW

Clorox

One step further, another step down.

Everything fails. 'Failure' however, is a matter of definition. What we process as a failure will that be - so then by its negative, what we process as a 'wining' will thus be. But winning and losing are not in question lest we allow that to be how we desire processing our experience.

I've said it before and need to be reminded constantly, it is the experience, not the processing of the experience which must concern us. This is delicate because it is so easy; for many however, myself often included, this is what makes it hard. It does not matter win or fail, gain or loss, those are subjective terms when processing the experience of life as a whole.

I could say "I have lost this opportunity" or what many current self-help pundits say, "This loss is just as easily seen as a win" i.e.'not that opportunity' becomes processed as an opportunity for something else in and of itself.

But this is still a trapping, cynically we can say it is 'lying' to oneself or being 'foolhardy' - but if we can say that, then we can also say the opposite, calling 'failure' 'being honest with oneself' or being 'realistic' as much of a trap. Further, our definition of a 'failed' relationship or a 'successful' relationship may have overlap but still be unique. From the outside in a parent says, 'you dodged a bullet' - yet from the inside out one says, 'I have lost the other side of my heart'. Both are discussing their processing of the same event. This processing obviously then affects their 'realities'.

Reality is beyond our words. This is the age old argument between Plato and Aristotle. Form vs. Form commingled with matter - and to both these men I simply add a footnote; a raising of my hand in the class and hope that I am called on to offer my idea and get their collective response.

Words, the currency of our communication, account for a very small part of our communication. Fifty percent is body language, forty three percent is our tone, and seven percent is the words we use - of which three percent are actually taken in by the listener.

So to begin to try and process the experience of life with our words, we are already short changed. This whole idea of objectively looking upon one's experience is based on judging ones experience, and the currency with which to do thusly is worthless. If I may be so bold, the judges themselves are worthless as well. They, we, have no idea to see the whole, we can only judge the parts. The cosmic joke is that if we judge each part as a failure, thus it will be, and further if we judge each part as a win, thus it will be - but the activity of judging, itself creates a disconnect in the experience. Judging then becomes the only way we experience - so to say, we lose the experience - and so reality - all together.

I postulate then, that the answer as previously stated, is a lack of judgement and so a lack of processing the experience. Taking ones life off of trial and letting it be free. It is then I believe we must find joy greater than any pleasure or stress we may glean from an accurate or inaccurate judgement.

To reduce this down even further for the love of brevity and wit and charm - if we remove the question all together, we will never have to be worried about what the answer is.

And a final reduction as mentioned in my earlier posts which we must say as a chant unto ourselves, etched in our minds as deep as the wrinkles of the brain itself, "I am and all is"

This seems appropriate.

Just this morning I was thinking about how no one would really know my enjoyment and respect and love for hip hop and some rap unless they knew me. I wondered how to accurately express this. To tell the history, to somehow talk about how good it feels to spit lyrics very quickly and how it helps in memorizing poetry. The evolution of it and it's effect upon the black culture and then the culture as a whole. I'm from India mind you, and I have respect for good hip-hop. Often called 'wisdom rap'. The Roots, Mos Def, KRS-One, Tribe Called Quest, Common, Talib, and on and on. The way interesting ideas can be conveyed; and if anyone has tried rapping, there truly is an art to it. To grab the cadence of words, to give them their own rhythm, their melody in a dance with a beat. The African roots and how they've evolved. Sometimes just some grimy rap is great. I can't explain what part of me, but the shadow enjoys it, the light is struck by how the shadow digs on it - and laughs.

I remember this song from 10th grade, and I have taken to redoing rap/hip-hop acoustically in the past...which isn't terrible ps. Here is a pretty cool rendition of an old Doctor Dre song from 'The Chronic' - which is a must own rap album. I love the juxtaposition of the look and persons singing with the song itself.

In my hour of darkness.

What could that hour be hmm? Just one hour? If it was only an hour of darkness, it would truly be terrible because there would be no preperation or ablility to become accustomed to riding the wave of darkness. An hour of darkness would then be the most difficult period in our lives, changing us forever. It's that first moment when the apple was bitten, the hour where we will forever be different. "Luckily", most of us have more than an hour of darkness. Even when it's easier, since it's spread out and we can learn from it, I think we would come to the same conclusion. "Mother Mary comes to me, there will be an answer, let it be."

In mass we Catholics say before the Eucharist, "Lord, I am not worthy, but only say the word and I shall be healed". In the Gospel of John we believe God to have said the word, and further, that His Word was made Flesh. I've always found it to be a prayer that seems more to remind us more than an actual request. A prayer for something already done; a reminder what we needed done and by our placement in history, what is already done for us.

I was looking at videos of John Lennon when this popped up. I like updating my blog. Math class final was today, think I passed but will find out Sunday I think.

hope you're all well. Gotta real nice song I've been working on which I will post up when it feels like it's near completed - near completed - because these things evolve continually, they are never 'complete' - only birthed.

Also, "God willing and the creek don't rise" - just saying.

Karan

Black Swan

Darren Aronofsky does a movie about dance? Well, i'm not sure what it's about, but he directed'Requiem for a Dream' which terrifies me and 'The Fountain' which might be my number one movie of all time - easily top five obviously - and this will be his follow up to the critically acclaimed 'The Wrestler'.

I think he is using dance as the oil to make the machine of a deeper story work. This is usually how it goes with him though I did not see 'The Wrestler'. Regardless, for however dark it looks, I'm sure I'll watch it eventually.

Litany

oh my gosh

The room is dark, how will you walk out alone? So hear the sound of your echo and follow it into the sun. You speak and the walls bellow back, "All is, all is."

-From my Journals, Vol. II: Book 26

Oh we'll see it, we'll see it, we'll see it!

Sometimes I'm really not sure. Even then I'm sure about that. I heard this on the radio back from school today. School to work. I started doing that mad cry where your eyes are full of tears and your mouth is smiling, laughing, stopping and laughing again; this began when I heard "And they splashed into the deep blue sea!" [2:56] (oh it was a wonderful splash).

I used to listen to this album a long while ago, or a few years, say what you will since time doesn't really exist. I love the lyrics. I wish he had continued, but the artist seems to have died of his own myth. Either way, the lyrics are tremendous. Sinking down into a mountain hopefully. I think daily about the same thoughts, I'm amazed anyone finds me an interesting person or how I live with myself. I learned to hold on too long, learned it from my ma I think. I am moving into my Fathers house (not really, just spiritually and psychologically) and in doing so I am more secured in my manhood. I am and all is. Those phrases rise to the surface. The cream of thoughts. "I simply am" and "all simply is"

maybe that's what got me today? who knows about these mad things. I suspect I would call them less mad. Or more mad. Sometimes I'm really not sure. Even then I'm sure about that.

"Oh my morning's coming back, the whole world's waking up/ the city buses swimming past/ I'm happy just because, I found out I am really no one" - CO'B

Jokerman

Let me tell you a love story

But later...after the birthday sushi...

...and the bad parenting

(can you believe that's a cake!)

Different Terms. Similar Equations.

I am pleased with how my math class is going. I have enjoyed getting back into the rhythm of a structured school setting where grades and class room dynamics become things to consider. Luckily, due to personal positioning in life - whether it be latent or active - I am much better able to focus on the purpose of my time there. Further, I am able to enjoy not only my studies, but to see them as an opportunity to know more things. Things which without the structure of university, I would appreciate and dream of, but never actually take the time to learn. Like deconstruction and construction of polynomials. It's a simple thing, but it's fun, but without college I do not assume I would be interested enough to actually seek it out.

During the sporadic visits to college during the ten years following my high school diploma I would reach out and learn things. For instance I began learning French on my own just last year and that will come in handy because I have to take six college classes of French for my degree. I learned a lot about the histories and philosophy and was blessed to have a pretty clear groove etched out to link the story of the worlds thoughts together. Theology was an important lesson. A lot of these lessons were learned from the books that my close friends were reading in college. So I'd borrow them when their class was done, or go buy a copy if their class was discussing it. A school of Athens feel came to my coffee shop meetings. To tie it back, the first few classes in my condensed math class which covers about five units a day versus spending a day or two days on one unit were a jumble of thoughts; clarified only by using philosophical arguments and rules of logic as my lens to view the elementary algebra we were covering.

I don't want to write anymore right now.

Karan

Accio Granger!

You may take me to the library Hermonie Granger.

Word

More on words. As yesterday where I spoke of the importance of definition- which in and of itself is a commonly held belief, yet an actively passive practice - today I found something to further describe it's importance. Showing the beauty and the limits of our verbal currency; namely, words.

Hear me

"First learn the meaning of what you say, and then speak."

- Epictetus

Very shortly, let me say, this quote concerns me when being told I am loved. In most cases, this is a lie because both parties define it differently. Also, love is a verb so being loving and being in love are the same thing - a slave to service, paid in joy like a king.

This also goes for when people like to discuss the various problems with God and religion; further when they argue for their 'spirituality' apart from organization - not paying attention to the fact that they are proposing an organized thought as a tenant of "why no religion, why no God, etc.". In those cases by the way, I appreciate those who don't even try. I guess lukewarm is revolting; this stands even when I act thusly.

That's about it. We must start being honest.

Karan

Happy Sequential Date Day!

Elegant Expression

I love artistic expression. so much.

And my bed, I like that a lot too. It's a four poster with a canopy so I feel like Harry Potter sort of. It's just bigger than the ones in his dorm and doesn't have big drapes. Big drapes would be nice though.

I'm too sexy for my bear

The following is one of my favorite quotes - one of many, many, many - but for some reason lately I've been wanting to share it.

During and after sex I am consistently struck by how awe inspiring it is. The whole process, through and beyond the aftermath of orgasms. I marvel at it - and I'm choosing my words carefully.

Further, I greatly enjoy the various aspects of sex on its many levels ranging from deep emotionality, spirituality, and psychological effect - all the way through sport and expression. Making love is of course, a very different thing.

As a Catholic I don't like having sex before marriage, but when I do, I've at least been blessed to enjoy myself. In all events however, this quote holds true, and I thank God for it. I hope the world at large - with its latent, and sometimes obtuse obsession, with sex and sexuality segregated from its intrinsic value as living within a Trinitarian God - will be able to feel the same.

"Sometimes sex is the most boring part of my day."

-David Matzko McCarthy

like this.

More Magic Marketing

The Tagline is...

"Everything Ages Fast. Update."

Some Don Draper, or possibly some ultra nerd -all one in and the same - came up with this line. It's perfect. The message it's sending is "Time is running out - fast" Reminding the viewer of a deep seeded anxiety/fear, that time is always running out and life is only so long. They add the word, 'fast' which is perfect. They sweeten the blow and dull the edge of the knife with great creative artwork.

The second layer of great marketing is doing this for two of the most popular sites on the internet. It get's noticed, fast. They also created a 'vintage' add for Skype.

The final and third layer is the fact that 'vintage' is having an impact being used to further modern marketing. Only the power of marketing - when done effectively - with it's ability to reach our deepest fears and dreams - could pull this off and make us love it. Well, I love it, and if I had a company I would hire the Draper or the nerd at MaxiMidia in a heart beat - or at least discuss cost with them.

Click the pictures above to enlarge them.

Also, here is a splendid, captivating film from the most champion address on the internet.

My love - II

Looks in part, like this.

Dusty ol' Dust

I've sung this song, but I'll sing it again,
Of the place that I lived on the wild windy plains,
In the month called April, county called Gray,
And here's what all of the people there say

So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh.
This dusty old dust is a-gettin' my home,
And I got to be driftin' along.

A dust storm hit, an' it hit like thunder;
It dusted us over, an' it covered us under;
Blocked out the traffic an' blocked out the sun,
Straight for home all the people did run,
Singin'

So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh.
This dusty old dust is a-gettin' my home,
And I got to be driftin' along

We talked of the end of the world, and then
We'd sing a song an' then sing it again.
We'd sit for an hour an' not say a word,
And then these words would be heard

So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh.
This dusty old dust is a-gettin' my home,
And I got to be driftin' along

Sweethearts sat in the dark and sparked,
They hugged and kissed in that dusty old dark.
They sighed and cried, hugged and kissed,
Instead of marriage, they talked like this

So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh.
This dusty old dust is a-gettin' my home,
And I got to be driftin' along

Now, the telephone rang, an' it jumped off the wall,
That was the preacher, a-makin' his call.
He said, "Kind friend, this may the end;
An' you got your last chance of salvation of sin!

So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh.
This dusty old dust is a-gettin' my home,
And I got to be driftin' along

The churches was jammed, and the churches was packed,
An' that dusty old dust storm blowed so black.
Preacher could not read a word of his text,
An' he folded his specs, an' he took up collection,
Said

So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh;
So long, it's been good to know yuh.
This dusty old dust is a-gettin' my home,
And I got to be driftin' along

-Woody Guthrie

Excuse me while I kiss the sky

"Well I stand up next to a mountain, and I chop it down with the edge of my hand...if I don't meet you no more in this world then I'll meet you on the next one, and don't be late, don't be late"

-Jimi Hendrix [Voodoo Child]

My love -I

Looks in part, like this.