Sunday, January 30, 2011

An Ode to Lily Potter



Lily, oh Lily Potter whose patronus was a beautiful stag / loved her but I never kissed her she's the best friend I ever did have/ now all I can do is watch o'er the one she loved cause no one can know, how deep my love does go/ for Lily, oh Lily Potter the best friend I ever did have.

Lily, oh Lily Potter met her when I was young/ had some real magic in her didn't know where it came from/ told her about a world where witches and wizards were/ and I was delighted to hear that I'd be going to school with her/ Lily, oh Lily Potter whose patronus was a beautiful stag.

But as time wore on, oh we grew apart/ didn't like my growing interest in the dark arts/ so I asked her Lily, oh Lily whose it gonna be and to this day I wish she'd chosen me/ cause Lily, oh Lily Potter was the best friend I ever did have.

Lily, oh Lily Potter was married to a man named James/ gave birth to a beautiful boy had her green eyes on his face/ and I been hard on him for the better part of my days/ had to wait till the end to tell him I'd love him always/ cause Lily, oh Lily Potter was the best friend I ever did have.

-Karan Singh & The Freshwater
www.Facebook.com/TheFreshwaterMusic

Friday, January 28, 2011

Soul Cloth

like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,as though we were drowning inside our hearts,as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.
-P. Neruda

Monday, January 24, 2011

The Magic Castle

Twas a new feeling - something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.

She felt my lips' impassioned touch -
'Twas the first time I dared so much,
And yet she chid not;
But whispered o'er my burning brow,
'Oh, do you doubt I love you now?'
Sweet soul! I did not.

Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I pressed it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not;
Till - oh! the world hath seldom heard
Of lovers, who so nearly erred,
And yet, who did not.

-Thomas Moore, 'Did Not'

Smoke Screen.


In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But ’tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who, in despite of view, is pleased to dote.
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue’s tune delighted;
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
But my five wits nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unsway’d the likeness of a man,
Thy proud heart’s slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain.

-Shakespeare, 'Sonnet 141'

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Into Dark Memory

Weekly Video!

This is awesome in HD.
pan-handling for support, tell your friends.
So fresh!

This is a pretty tough song to sing. Technically, but I'm not that technical I don't think; in any event, the way I sing songs, or keep them alive, or rather they live is to be lived. This is what I think. I place myself emotionally where I need to be to sing the song, that' s the tough stuff. To remember the challenging emotions which impelled a lot of my songs.

I don't write songs about people because people take them personally, I use the environment around me to express an emotion. I hope to do it so that it may be used universally and timelessly (which is why most songs are emotion based, also that's easiest and most natural for my personality) while keeping the personal meaning esoteric.

This song is fun to sing, it's real challenging at times, but it's a perfect little package for me. It makes me want to wail, and simultaneously requires me to wail.

Hope you enjoy it. I'll have lyrics up again soon for it.
This was recorded at Canal Street a few nights ago (along with this video). There are now six you can watch if you're interested.

Hoping I add to your soundtrack,

Karan

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Together we will live forever

When You Fall (The Great Lie)


Thanks to Charles Van Dine for recording a little snippet of this performance for me.
You can watch it in HD on YouTube.
You can purchase the song on iTunes.
You can tell me what you think on www.facebook.com/thefreshwatermusic

Monday, January 17, 2011

On cups, surgeons, and the lack of any real wisdom

I

Things are things, I once felt like I had potential in life, now some years later I feel like i suck at life so I take everything more personally. It's as if I thought I believed in my potential, then saw myself 'fail' at work and in my personal life - we use 'fail' arbitrarily here as it's all perspective anyways for losers - and then I believed I 'evolved' - that I became more refined as a person. Come to find out nothing changes, all is, all was, and everything we think persists. There are no resets in life, nothing starts over, everything just goes on. I am no different than I was, and that is good. I know more, but my core is the same, I forget that fact and run from it as if it is bad - partially because part of that core is self-hate. The lack of approval from a Father, the broken heart of a boy, the retreat into the mind - what else is all this analysis? Fear played out intellectually. To use itself well, the core must be reformed. That I cannot do. A broken cup cannot fix itself. I cannot perform brain surgery on myself - but to be more accurate in my analogies, I cannot perform heart surgery on myself with great chance of success. I need a surgeon.

II

The focus on how I am at life, this is inherent t0 the issue, and simultaneously almost the issue entirely. The focus on the 'I' - and the way it is focused on - speaks of the character it focuses on. Things are folded in on themselves. Emerson said it best as I've seen so far, "People seem not to see that their opinion of the world is also a confession of character". Imagine then an opinion on the character (which is what this is) as a confession folded in on itself. An implosion of a person, which is to say a black hole. The worst. The death of a star, the end of anything which surrounds it. One must be less mighty to be a long living star; one who ends like a diamond versus one who ends as the absence of light and the most dense gravity. How can one dance when their gravity tears them apart? You have probably heard this said in a different way, "He gets in his own way".

The lack of approval from a father may be outweighed eternally from the approval of a Heavenly Father should I take the words of the Gospels more seriously. That in my baptism, I am too baptized in Christ, and in so far as that, I am "his beloved in whom he is well pleased" (Matt 3:17). The matter is focus - the matter is a mind trying to dig itself out of itself. But this inability to accept this truth, as Truth, this is an unstated, negative opinion of my character which is also a confession of my truer character.

III

Self love is not bad, however, self love often poses as self hate. The rub is when one is convinced that they are not into themselves so vastly, yet are entirely consumed with themselves. Solitude speaks loudly because I lack the ability to be truly alone - I am always talking to myself or thinking about myself or about things to myself - which is still to say about myself in relation to those things is it not? The only reprieve is the moments of prayer which have been relegated for almost a year now. This is a common human condition I assume, however I do not like it, so that speaks to my deeper character. The truth is silent. That is most important.

So much intellectual masturbation. Truly I must write when my blood boils and needs to burst. I climax and turn Neanderthal thereafter. I write as if I am undulating towards a point, but there is no point in a pointless endeavor. The lack of love can only lead to Nihilism - but obviously it cannot be the answer, for then I wouldn't believe in writing - and what is more true, is that my believe does not matter, it simply helps.

This can be taken as a mirror, that my belief about what I am does not matter...

IV

The importance of my belief matters if I believe in what I assume myself to be, as a symptom of the very disease my belief in myself is trying to eradicate. I passively grew to believe myself to be a certain way in response to how I was. The desire for evolution comes from the very place that isn't evolved - the core which knows not how to love what it is whatever that may be. I hold that if one is to love themselves, they must love their darkness as well. Some will call that darkness 'failure', however, to see 'failure' is to begin existing on the plane of thought where losers live - I know, I live here, it sucks, you should not visit, stay at home!

'A bad man does not think of himself as bad' to paraphrase CS Lewis, then I can assume a man does not think of himself as a man, rather a man, does not think of himself at all. He is self-aware, but not self-conscious. The cup knows it is broken, but has no opinion about it's cracks. Rather than trying to mend itself, it learns to pour with what it has; in the process, it is possible, that the crack would become mended.


Friday, January 14, 2011

In a Little While

Listen, I don't care how it looks, i'm not this fat...I'm not sayin...I'm just sayin I'm not saying.

But mostly I hope you enjoy the lyrics. Lyrically, this is one of my favorite personal songs. Very quotable to oneself, at least quietly.

Check it out.


"Just cause you'll be a good wife, don't mean you're a good wife for me. just cause i'll be a good father, don't mean we start a family. i'm warning you baby so if you don't mind just give me your heart and let me break it in a little while

Just cause I make you laugh don't mean i'll be good to you. just cause you think you know me, darling don't make it true i'm warning you baby so if you don't mind just give me your heart and let me break it in a little while

Just cause you're beautiful don't mean you're pretty just cause we ain't imprisoned, darling don't make us free i'm warning you baby so if you don't mind just give me your heart and let me break it in a little while just give me your heart and let me break it in a little while"


- Karan Singh & The Freshwater
www.facebook.com/TheFreshwaterMusic

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Will you still need me? Will you still feed me? When I'm sixty-four


Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate
That Time will come and take my love away.
This thought is as a death which cannot choose
But weep to have, that which it fears to lose.

-Shakespeare, Sonnet 64

I have been scared for many years of love. If the question is posed, how can black and white live in the same space without losing their individual color, I can say because fear and love live inside me. At the molecular level I bet I could find where they are separate (analogously said), where my dark and light have two little God's battling for the last few acres of my soul.

I drive away those I love because I fear they will leave. Very simple to say is it not? I am blessed now to have someone riding the waves, and blessed to be a less torrid wave to ride, gentler to my surfer. Gentle should not assumed to be nice. In fact, "nice" for a man is a very sad state to be; 'bold' 'manly' 'fierce' 'gentle' 'engaged' 'listening' these are better words. Bold in love, fierce in love, gentle in love, engaged in love, listening in love - and so a man, in love. However, I am young with a cloudy philosophy, and so I can say many of these characteristics overlap for the women of our species. I will fall back to assume a matter of degrees - though even that cannot be crafted in stone as it is even more specifically a matter of degrees between partners. So I fall further back on the famous words of Saint Paul, "And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love" - 1 Cor 13:13

Without judgement I will have to proclaim that the man and woman are a team, with the woman helping the man lead, and the man helping the woman lead - it seems then it is a matter of direction. The dichotomy mustn't be so harsh, but pliable, continually fresh. The ability to be agile and change directions in unison quickly, like two dancers, trained to navigate the world with grace. I find most people are just at a club, locked in some ridiculous fore-foreplay, a few are lucky enough to be trying to make their way through the crowd while still maintaining their dance, and the select few then are those trained, who command the floor and soar through the room like eagles with strong legs.

Horses maybe.
Unicorns, probably.
I bleed out till I am a bit mad, a bit dizzy; then I can stop writing.

Well then, till blood swells again, and I have to burst once more.

-Karan

Proud Flesh

Life is long, and the world is big.

Friday, January 7, 2011

When the sounds of end come

When you get all you wanted and the world becomes small you’ll see a moments blinded and a shadow standing tall saying come back home son there’s more to do son don’t forget where you been love and that this too will end when the sands have shifted and your flesh strikes the grain time sits like a mountain while the wind howls in the refrain saying come back home son there’s more to do son don’t forget where you’ve been love and that this too will end and when our tears come like waves we crash on reminding us it’s all been building to every moment we lived and so you come back home son cause there’s more left to do love and we break through to freedom as the sounds of the end come we done lived a full life a thousand days and forty nights it’s our time before it’s gone so we learn slow what we want and we come on back home son when there’s no more to do son remember where we’ve been love cause this too will end.


-Karan Singh & The Freshwater

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Soar


"My baby lives on Mad River, while my wife stays on Paragon Road/ And I wonder if they'd ever tell each other about me, or live a lie just to have a man comin' home.

My baby oh she's sleepin' on Mad River, while my wife, she's cryin' on Paragon Road/ And I wonder if they'll remember me in the mornin' or will the evening bring 'em another man that they could take home.

My baby oh she's prayin' on Mad River, while my wife, raises our child on Paragon Road/ And I wonder if I could ever walk away, clean and smilin', or will this all end like it done before

My baby now she's yellin' on Mad River, while my wife locked the doors on Paragon Road, and I wonder if they've spoken what they could have said about me, that I was a fool for love, with a heart of stone.

My baby now she's gettin married on Mad River, while my wife packs up on Paragon Road/ And I wonder if they'll ever come and find me where I lay now - six feet below the Ohio snow"

- An Original Song by Karan Singh & The Freshwater written over a year ago! Wow, how time flies.
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