the muzzy sound

Spain [Cherry-Coloured Funk]

2012-01-12T02:45:00.001+01:00

somewhere in Spain, May 2003. a ghost must have appeared in front of my camera. obviously

It takes me back....

...to the sounds. the lights. around Seville. around Madrid. coach trips, foggy mornings in the middle of nowhere. having a crush. thinking "maybe...". losing myself in a medieval town under the drizzle, as if time had stopped, and wish i could disappear right here. make one with the grey blue air. mosques turned churches. mosaics and ornament. briefly feeling that awkward presence of God. a car crash. a furtive glance at faces covered in blood. sand everywhere. horses in the sun. cities by the sea.
the Sea.
people. evening lights. bridges and aqueducs. his body next to me. admiring the most breathtaking view ever. containing my emotions. escaping through the sunny streets of a town. A Silver Mt Zion. playing cards, the 4 of us sitting in circle, surrounded by trees. on the top of a hill. views. fantasies. teenage angst. "I hate this trip". "I hate people". "I hate Spain".
so many.

that bookshop in Madrid.

castles and kings and windmills. Velasquez and Goya. panic attacks and shameful tears.

-the fantastic sight of a city bathed in gold, orange light on the evening we arrive-

that feeling of independance. that feeling of being out of place. that feeling of being incomplete. that feeling of being a teenager.

-unbearable beauty-

Cocteau Twins albums on repeat.

and, many, many other things.

2011-10-25T14:19:00.004+02:00

I met a girl at school yesterday. We started talking about how she ended up studying in France. When we first asked her where she came from, she didn't answer right away. She wanted us to guess. Italy? Spain? Somewhere in South America? The answer was Israel.

First, she mentionned the catastrophic situation of culture, education and arts in her country. Artists from Israel do exist, but the point is they have to study and work abroad and get recognition to be accepted in their own country. Basically, all the money goes into war... From that point, she evoked how she just came back from military service.

She told us that when people turn 18, they are strongly encouraged to do benevolent work for a year. She chose to help at an orphanage. Most people working there were just as young as her. The people actually qualified for that job usually refuse to do it because the salary is ridiculously low. They prefer to search for more lucrative ways to make a living.

Then, when that benevolent year ended, she entered obligatory military service for 2 years (and three 3 years for boys). Basically, most of these young soldiers have only one mission: protecting the borders of Israel. Depending on where they decide to send you, and also whether you're a mad or a woman, this can be an extremely traumatic experience. Some are chosen to literally go drop bombs on Palestinians, others just control and check, some others are sent on missions in enemy territory...

When that military service ends, a lot of people decide to go away from Israel. To breathe, and most of all, forget, she said. Some of her acquaintances went to spiritual retreats in India for a year.

Her way to give some meaning to her life was to become an artist. And this is how she ended up in our school.

At some point she said "that's strange. when I'm in my country I'm a real leftist who works for peace and understanding. I don't want this war. But when I'm abroad and hear people talking about Israel, I want to defend my country. I know what we're doing is wrong, I'm against it, still, deep inside it really hurts me. Because we are the bad ones and we know it."

And later in the discussion I understood that she was always reticent to tell people about her origins, because she fears harsh reactions. She loves Arabic culture but when she meets arabic people (or people in general) she prefers to say she's from Spain.

Is it guilt? Of something that is not even her fault, and that is much, much bigger than her anyways? Yes, talking with her I could feel a lot of guilt, and a lot of doubt. A strong dichotomy between her beliefs and harsh reality, and also how hard it is for her to take position with more affirmation against her own country.

She's only 22. And she's lived so many things already. With time, her mind will probably clear up and I hope some parts of her many doubts will disappear. She has conviction and is willing to help things change. Still, it was quite fascinating to hear her talk freely about it all. It's stuff I had read about and seen documentaries about, but it took a whole different meaning with that girl sitting in front of me. The war became real, suddenly.

Her love for art moved me a lot, as well. She clearly said it was her way to deal with it all. Art as a necessity... Often when people tell me stuff like that I think "so cheesy..." because art world is full of posers and I'm so tired on it. Here, I was in total awe. Seing all that strength and sincerity reflecting in her dark eyes. It hasn't been easy for her to end up in this school and she looked extremely proud. It was a great reality check for me. I'm lucky to be there, too. It's a chance, I have to enjoy it and never take where I am now, what I have now or at any moment of my life for granted.

It makes me think that in this conflict and in war in general, everyone becomes a victim: the ones that are attacked and the attacker via the population, that has to suffer and pay for things they can't even control.

nouveau

2011-10-18T23:50:00.003+02:00

It's strange how things always come to an end. Inexorably.

I used to feel like dying a little everytime something ended in my life. Good or bad. Major or minor. That's not the point. It's more like, getting used to something and then lose it. That impression of losing something. A part of you. Something that won't come back, again, positive or negative... It was a part of you after all. It was your life. It was your world. The place/state you felt comfortable with. It's hard to let it go.

It took me so long to accept it. I still think that I don't.
Slowly, I'm learning.
I try to imagine how things are gonna be once the "thing" is gone... I used to think only about the negative part. See how I used the expression losing something. Is it really a loss? Because if you look at it carefully, life keeps going. New events, new people, new everything. And it all depends on what you make out of it. How you accept these new things or people and make them become your life, your world, your cocoon. Allow them to become a part of you.

Learn from the past. Enjoy what is now. And most of all, don't fear the future.

I try to make as if I could live by these words. When depression kicks in, I think about the people I care about and I realize for the first time in my life I guenuinely care about someone. I want to protect. I want to comfort. I want to be there. And this, is a reason why I try to take care of myself now. Because I want to be there and experience life, so the ones I care about can benefit from it too.
I know I should do all those things for myself first. But after hating myself so much for so long, I'm more than satisfied to finally have a reason to stop the self-destruction.
And it gives me hope that if I am able to do that for someone else, I will be able to do it for myself too, one day. If others deserve to be forgiven, I myself must deserve it too?
Gonna take some more work, a lot of work.

Such a strange feeling. I think. I guess. I'm slowly starting to allow my old self to go.

Haruki and me

2011-09-27T02:48:00.006+02:00

Rinko Kikuchi as Naoko in the movie Norwegian Wood (2010)

I hated the movie but the images are so beautiful...

This summer I decided to read as many novels as possible and most of all, start exploring Haruki Murakami's bibliography.
I guess anybody who has a fondness for Japan has heard about his work... So I told myself, for my general culture and dunno... yeah, culture, I have to read his books.
Everyday at work, I would spend my "lunch break" reading instead of eating. Or socializing with my co-workers.
Among others, I managed to read four novels by Haruki Murakami.
In order: Kafka on the Shore, Sputnik Sweetheart, Norwegian Wood and The Wind-up Bird Chronicle (finished that one yesterday).

What struck me first is how much you can feel that these books have been written by a man.
Often written from the main character's clueless point of view, most of the time an ordinary guy with no specific characteristics and an uneventful life (=real life..) which fate changes suddenly, change always brought by one or several women, mysterious, sometimes magical.
There's always that helpless fascination for women, and as a matter of fact, female characters descriptions seem real but a bit too magnified.

Today I only want to talk about Sputnik Sweethearts. This novel touched me particularly.
I could totally imagine myself as the heroine, Sumire.
Intense, overreacting, sensitive girl who feels deeply and makes no concessions. Most of her words in the book, it seemed that I could have said them too, the exact same way.
I wanted to share that quote with you, because it describes my current situation perfectly.
In this extract, Sumire talks on the phone with her best friend and confident named "K", and tries to explain what is going on in her life.

“- It’s not just that I can’t write. What really upsets me is I don’t have confidence anymore in the act of writing itself. I read the stuff I wrote not long ago, and it’s boring. What could I have been thinking? It’s like looking across the room at some filthy socks tossed on the floor. I feel awful, realizing all the time and energy I wasted.

Sumire tapped her nails against her front teeth, one of her many habits when she was thinking.

- I’ve hardly ever felt confused like this before. Not that I’m always confident, sure of my talent. I’m not that nervy. I know I’m a haphazard, selfish type of person. But I’ve never been confused. I might have made some mistakes along the way, but I always felt I was on the right path.
- Maybe you’re right. But at this point, things aren’t working out.
- Right. They aren’t. Sometimes I get so frightened, like everything I’ve done up till now is wrong. I have these realistic dreams and snap wide awake in the middle of the night. And for a while I can’t work out what’s real and what isn’t … That kind of feeling. Do you have any idea what I’m saying?
- I think so, I replied.
- The thought hits me a lot these days that maybe my novelwriting days are over. The world’s crawling with stupid, innocent girls, and I’m just one of them, self-consciously chasing after dreams that’ll never come true. I should shut the piano lid and come down off the stage. Before it’s too late."

Replace "writing" with "painting" and you get a very accurate picture of me right now.

Naoko and Toru in the movie Norwegian Wood

I also watched the movie Norwegian Wood, adapted from the novel.
Such a mess. It had so much potential. Perfect visuals, good looking actors and overall great atmosphere. But the storyline... really messy and totally misses the point of the story.
For example, the scene where Toru and Naoko go out for a walk and end up making out in the middle of a field. Everything that happens there...This scene has been totally ruined in the movie. In the book, it's one of the most beautiful description of love I've ever read.

A few weeks ago, I came accross Lantern Parade's new album and listening to it I thought "this is Norwegian Wood!".
You can hear it has been influenced by The Beatles so much. The folk melodies are delicate and dreamy and have that lo-fi, fragile quality.
The album immediately reminded me of that scene: Toru and Naoko together in the middle of a field, loving each other.
Images and sound became one in my head. Now everytime I hear these songs (especially Kinmokusei no nioi ga shite) I tear up a bit.
I know I'm obsessed with this song. Can't get it out of my head. The memories tied to it calm me down and make me feel good in a strange way.

Maybe it's just me...

rookie

2011-09-15T17:05:00.006+02:00

Erica Segovia for the webzine Rookie ("Younger Than Yesterday" series)

Birthdays.
To be honest, they don't interest me most of the time. I often forget about them (at least mine) and I never, ever celebrate them. I've never cared about my age or the idea of getting old.
But this time, something strange is happening: I am turning 25 in a few weeks.
25. It seems that I spent my whole 24th year thinking and overanalyzing that "25" number as it suddenly appeared to me as an important landmark. I can't believe so many years have passed, so fast.
What happened between 20 and 25? I can't even tell you. Only a thick fog and quasi-total inactivity. I'm not proud of it at all and am convinced that I've literally lost, wasted, ruined 5 years of my life.

At the same time, I see people that are the same age as me. Some have started having children, some others are already embracing a successful career, others have very clear ideas and dreams and are working extremely hard to achieve them. Some are just as lost , or even more lost than me.

I think we all have ideals, what our lives should be like. And I respect all of them from now on.
I just realized that these ideas and principles are the most important thing. They help us waking up every morning and keep going. These are the things we look up to when times are hard, and achieving some of them gives us the impression that life is meaningful and precious. They keep us alive.

I clearly remember how I was before everything started getting bad.
I was extremely confident. I was determined to become a succesful and prolific artist. I would work non stop. Of course I still had no social life and was already quite depressed in a way, but... I had that stuff to look up to.
And my hard work was actually appreciated by others and I could already see my dream becoming true. I would constantly tell myself that if I kept being that dedicated and hard-working, things would never go bad. That was my only hope.

I could already imagine myself at the age of 25.
I would have graduated two years ago and thanks to the many contacts I would have created during my school life, I would expose my work and, little by little, gather some recognition. I would have a part time job and saved up enough money to get the hell out of Europe and experience life abroad.
Of course I would still be making music and my guitar skills would have become acceptable. I would have already written enough songs and have enough material to start working seriously on an album.

I would have done so many things. At 25.
My goal wasn't to be happy... My goal wasn't to make someone else happy... My goal was to be... Satisfied? And fulfill my many, many high expectations. I used to be an ambitious chick.

A few days ago I went to get my public transportation card for the upcoming school year. There is an application form you have to fill and the salesperson kindly asked me "are you under or over 18?". She seemed quite serious. I couldn't help smiling.
Even though I'm very tall and have what I'd call a "womanly body", my face and shy, hesitant attitude, quiet voice makes it hard for people to tell what age I exactly am.
I still think the girl exagerated a bit but... I'm used to such situations.
Again, it seems that my mind and body don't understand that I'm an adult. I'm still stuck where I was 5 years ago. (with MUCH less fat, and better eating habits, fortunately -_-;;)

So, why am I writing all this?
Because I found out a fantastic webzine.
It's called Rookie and has been created by the even more fantastic Tavi, a 15 year old American girl known for her blog Style Rookie, that she started when she was only 11.
Style Rookie used to be mostly about fashion but little by little we got to discover Tavi's cool universe, her interesting, open minded, completely fresh outlook on life, and the world in general. We discovered a very mature and unconventionnal mind that was way beyond her years. It was kinda weird to imagine that such sense of humour and wit came from such a young person.
Tavi slowly made her way into fashion world. High end designers started inviting her to fashion shows, she wrote and posed for famous magazines etc... But she quickly realized that this superficial world wasn't HER world. And that behind all the glitter lies a sad and boring reality.
She started learning about Feminism, punk music, watching movies, forged herself a culture and strong opinions. She wrote about it all on her blog and gathered a large readership of teenage girls but also boys and adults, who, just like her, didn't feel like they fit in nowadays world and had things to say.
And that's how Rookie started.
The concept of Rookie is to talk about teenage just like a magazine would but from a totally different point of view. It's all about self expression, acceptation of individuality and, yeah, lots of fun.
There is a team of regular writers, photographers and artists of various ages that post daily articles (three a day actually) and then, readers can send their own works and texts, too.
Oh, last but not least, the comments are often interesting and hilarious too.

The webzine has been launched only a few days ago. I'm already loving it. Each and every article is interesting, fun, touching... It's totally different from the content usually aimed towards young girls. It's really unique. This is the reason why I think it will gather other readers too. Older girls! Boys! Parents! To me this is the most accurate view on what teenage is REALLY about. Not what they show in movies or on TV.
This is adolescence from an alternative point of view. Raw and real.

I'm 24 and I recognize myself in a bunch of things written there. And what I can't relate to made me laugh so hard or interested me so much that, yeah, you see what I mean.
I could say something like "I wish I had this when I was a teenager" since I didn't have many friends and even less female friends that were as, hm... deviant as me. So I had no real person I could express my weird ideas to and not many options to find and read about people like me.
I'm glad I have Rookie now. It helps me understand some things from back in the days and think differently about the issues I am having now.

For all the teenagers at heart.

2011-09-07T22:56:00.000+02:00

I have no idea who took this picture.

August

2011-09-04T03:29:00.002+02:00

August has been an incredibly sweet, delicate month.
All the time I kept thinking that it's much more difficult to find interesting words to describe happiness than sadness. Peace of mind is such a light and simple feeling. How can you describe it and still make it seem unique, personal, intimate?
Sadness... It deals with things that are hard to understand, deep and closely tight with pain. The only way to not let them drive you crazy is to create expressions and words to describe them.
Happiness.. you can only try your best to enjoy it when it comes. No need to decipher the feeling.
Happiness is passive. Sadness is active.

I've done a lot of satsfiying things this August from a behavior point of view. I've managed to work hand in hand with a lot of my demons. Hand in hand. No fights, no tears, just understanding them better and accept them as they are, as a part of me. Now I'm quite appeased.

At first I wanted to make a post with a lot of pictures that I personally find arousing (summer time=sexy time, right?). In the end, I chose to show only this one because it's just so sweet. Really sums up my state of mind all through August. The colors, warmth, etc.
July was dark and full of doubt. Month of confusion.
August has been like a renaissance. This is the feeling I want to convey.

Oh did I already tell you how much I hate summer?

July 27th dream

2011-07-30T08:59:00.000+02:00

I was very sick sitting on an hospital bed. On that day, someone that I sensed was my husband/partner, came to visit me, along with my child, a 2 to 3 year old child.
The whole time I see the scene through my husbands' eyes.
So, my child and my husband open the door. I see myself, very tired and sleepy but with my hair done, with little pearl earings and lipstick. It's like I had prepared myself to look good for them. As they enter the room, my child runs to me. He looks extremely happy to see me, and right at that moment, I feel a sort of deep motherly love and the look on my face is calm and welcoming.

Then, the setting changes. Now I see what is happening through my own eyes.
I'm outside, walking with my child in my arms. he smiles at me and seems guenuinely happy to be there. we cuddle.
At some point the rain starts falling. It is a very light, warm rain, like summer rain, even though the sky is grey. Our clothes turn into rain clothes. I try to protect him from the raindrops by holding him even closer. I see the drops falling on our wet coats and being slowly soaked up by the fabric. This sight is extremely reassuring. I put on my hoodie and realize it is big enough to cover both of us. My little boy is still smiling and that smile on his face means the world to me. I am feeling complete and good. This is my child. I can feel his warm little body close to me and it fills me up with joy. I'm so happy that I start singing. very slowly, softly. You know how in dreams you have that external point of view? well at first I wonder "what song is it? I know it" and as I keep singing, realize it's Mood Light by a jazz band band called Associate Social Piano.
Words can't explain how appeased, satisfied, complete I am. The rain, my child carefully listening to my voice, the melody, and yeah, the complete feeling of being a mother, of protecting that little life that keeps smiling at me... that feeling is incredible.
Unfortunately I woke up suddenly.

I don't think I had ever imagined what me as a mother would be like. The exact feeling of it.
I've always seen myself as a single woman, having a very solitary life, and I don't see how my life could be different.
But that dream was so real. I would have never imagined that such feeling of plenitude could exist.

It's like one dream I had where I made love with a guy. It was years before my first time. But the feeling was so real. The excitment before the whole thing starts that slowly builds up until getting unbearable, the first touch, the kisses, and physcally, first a pain so strong it makes you wanna scream, and then the pleasure that arrives extremely slowly and that you have to search for, focus on through the pain until the feeling becomes obvious and takes you whole, followed by the real enjoyment, and finally an orgasm... in my dream.
When I made love for the first time, I experienced exactly the same feelings... Minus the sheer pleasure.

It has always struck me how I could have experienced such a precise impression through a dream without even experiencing it in real life before...
And so, with that dream I had, I'm wondering if it's the same thing.

I mean, I still have zero desire to ever have a child. Still, this dream kept coming back to my memory all day long. That feeling of plenitude... Does it really exist?

tonight

2011-07-14T03:47:00.003+02:00

work on the way.

nice talk.

good music.

a character (what he told me)

2011-07-12T02:28:00.005+02:00

some sweet boring shoegaze (...super duper pleonasm...). can you think about the movie Mysterious Skin?

"[...] yeah so what is in your paintings? like UFO stuff, aliens? Yeah I believe in it. You have to be really stupid to believe we're the elected ones, that we're alone. We're not alone in the universe. Stuff like the Orion Theory [had to look it up]... There are proofs everywhere, just, our governments hide the truth. See, during world war II, Hitler... well... those guys, they discovered several UFOs in the Antartict. Caught in the ice... but you know the Russians, those morons, and trust me I have nothing against Russian people, they're cool and all, still, the Russians, they blowed them up! they totally did. So those tangible evidence, they're not here anymore.[...]"

" [...]So, you got to read your book? what is it about? oh Japanese. You're really into Japan, right? I'm gonna tell you something. Maybe you've been there before. Maybe the you from before you were born was Japanese or something happened to him/her there, and that's why you're linked to this country now. It still lives inside of you in a way.
Me? I know where I was before. I was a soldier in Vietnam. I got caught in an explosion that took my eyes away and I became blind. [then more explaination that I forgot, sorry.]. And for my future, my path in this life, it will be linked to the body, sports, healing of the body, etc...
I'm really interested in reincarnation. It started a few years ago. I met that guy... It's a specialist... can't remember his name for now, I'll tell you later when I remember. That guy, he reads in you. He reads in your eyes. He sees what you were before and it helps you understand what you are now, your mental mecanisms and what kind of things will happen in this present life, how to react to them... Everything is linked.
You know, a "déjà vu"? what happens is that suddenly, you go one step too far in the line of time. You shouldn't be afraid of it. But everything is already written. Of course you can change some things but all in all... It's already written.[...]

"[...] It's like numbers. Those end of the world dates? It's bullshit. But those dates do have a meaning. It's more spiritual. Nobody will die and there won't be any natural disters. It's more of the spiritual kind. Those days are spiritually strong, like all the energy of the world, that is constantly growing by the way, reaches a new peak, and a new era starts. Most people don't understand or feel this. But the spiritually strong know. Like the 21/12/2012. That date. Many people believe it's gonna be the end of the world. No. What will happen is that people will feel strange for a few hours, like you know, a horse? right now you can think of the concept of the word "horse"? well, on that day, you won't be able to do that for a few hours. Your mind won't be normal. It will be like floating somewhere else. Spiritual elevation. There is no need to be scared. I think some people will go crazy on that day because they won't understand. But you and me know there is no need to be scared.[...]"

Slim 19 y/o guy, a bit nervous with extremely pale blue eyes that look right inside of you when they're not scrutinizing the air, from left to right, left, right, up, down, as if they were searching for something. Brown hair styled in a slightly emo style, and a thick, long fringe that he keeps sweeping back, frantically. his hands are constantly moving, rolling up his sleeves, or checking any other part of his body while he talks animatedly.

If my life was a movie, right after he had stopped talking, I would have turned my head to the camera, slowly, with a smile of complicity, looking right at the audience with an expression in my eyes in the lines of :
"Here. This one. He's so full of potential."
[fade out]

experimentations

2011-07-11T14:47:00.002+02:00

You know, I don't understand why I critcize this society so much. It's my, our world after all, the one we live in. Why fight against it.

A more clever way to react would be to take what is good to take and give up on the rest. This is healthier. And this way, I won't feel like fighting all the time.
I was thinking, if you take people individually, there will always be a little somethng to love in each of them.
It's when they are in group that they start acting scary.
So, I'm gonna do it my own way way. Individually.
I observe people a lot, and it teaches me a lot. Sometimes I do experimentations and see how they react. Take them by surprise with some unexpected words or reactions. Because most of them think that I'm bland and/or lifeless, I'm like a blank page to them you could say. Thus I can be whoever I wanna be. I realized that this week. I'm playing the scientist and enjoy it quite a bit.
A last thing I noticed is that people are much more open minded when you take them individually. They are more vulnerable. Social life is a scene where everyone is an actor. As life goes by you become better and better at the role you decided to play, or other people decided you to play. It's an art, really.

When all I want in the end is to see people's soul. I would like to have X-ray eyes for the soul.

And last but not least, I think some people are more sensitive and perceive my attentions right away. They are few, I don't think they are conscious of it, but with these I want to try and go deeper. It's a hit or miss. I can have it all wrong, too. But just in the case it would work, I can only imagine how deep those relationships, one day, could be.

night and walk

2011-07-08T14:49:00.000+02:00

Lately, it seems that each day is a new birth. I am totally different from yesterday's me. And tomorrow, again I'll be different. I try to adjust to my mood of the day (though it usually change really quick from an hour to the other) and it seems that the clock adjusts to my mood, too.
The other day, I was sick and slept. It's as if that day had never existed, as when I woke up, it was the evening.
And yesterday I went to paris, had a nice walk and bought art supplies, three brushes, a strawberry smoothie, books... It was a cool day, a little bit of wind, a few clouds, not too hot. Time passed by, slowly, and I savoured every single minute of it, and each minute was made out of some sort of soft elastic substance that would stretch out to the pace of my steps.

From now on I'm gonna have to walk back home every night after work. it's a 30 to 40 minutes walk at midnight, in the fields and empty streets of our tiny town. I've already done that 2 years ago. Summer 2009. Listening to that Lillies and Remains album that just came out, repeatidly, every night. I have very good memories of that time, that particular moment of the day that was totally free, and a bit scary, with upbeat, dark yet danceable music protecting me during my walk.
I was free, I could take any detour I wanted, run if I wanted and get rid of all the frustration of the day, or sit down and observe the world, quiet, deeply asleep.

There was no time, no rules, only the night and me.

screw you emotional bullshit

2011-07-07T14:51:00.008+02:00

The ugliness of this world we live in. Am I the only one who notices this? the world of everyday people, who wake up every morning, go to work, build families, pay bills, save money all year long to go to pre made holidays to crappy places and participate to the exploitation of people from third wolrd countries, eploited themselves by the same group of rich people who brainwash the world's middle class populations. And that same middle class that consume and consume and live lives without ever thinking about the meaning of it all. They fuck and reproduce and consume and act the way the great Decision-Makers want them to. They are tools. I pity them. There are good people in this world. But how can they accept to be tools? How?

Doesn't it make you go crazy? Do you understand what I'm talking about? Because right now, I'm at that turning point where I realize this is the wolrd I'm a part of. This is the world I'm gonna evolve in for the rest of my life. The world of people who are not rich enough to be totally free and live by their own principles. The world of people who have no other choice than going for "what is not worse". And I think about it all the time and it depresses me. I don't want this. I don't belong to this world. I don't belong to these people. I don't disrespect them either. We don't belong to the same species, that's all. I am not a tool. And by stating this, I chose not to be.

Am I snob? Maybe. I am snob.

Must be why I chose art. And you know, these last few years where I totally rejected art and creation have been the worst in my life. I realize it now. I have to go back to it as fast as possible and take my own self out of all that crap. The world we live in is not my world. My world, I crushed it volontarily. I chose to forbid people to enter it, because it hurt too much to expose it to those who would make money out of it and never try to understand.

But you know what. If I don't make it exist, I also chose to let this ugly world I live in get more and more powerful, and kill any sort of beauty left in my head. And this is not good. Not good at all.

This is survival...

Don't let daily ugliness crush you...

Because I feel so rebelious and angry today, and feel like breaking walls and let the world know:

12xu - Des Pages Blanches en HTML

Décline l'être en avoir
Et l'avoir en paraître
La gloire au bout du clic
On s'est parlé sur le net
Heureusement qu'on ne s'est
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weary

2011-07-07T03:40:00.003+02:00

Sometimes I wish I lived in a world where everything would be fluffy like cotton candy. Sweet, gentle, nice. Where people wouldn't let their basic instincts rule their lives and relationships with others. Where social convention wouldn't exist. Where only our cores would be visible, where we would talk and think only about what is important.
Reality of life is harsh.
But at the same time, I'm an adult. I'm supposed to embrace this world no matter what.
I wish I had a concrete dream, something that would make me accept it all temporarily. When you have a goal, you do everything for it to come true and it keeps you going.

This is one of the many things I've been thinking about these last few weeks.

I say "harsh" because over the course of a few days I went from total social isolation to constant social stimulation, living with other people around me, confronting myself to the external world. I think I wasn't prepared at all and it's been brutal. Everyday people are not nice. Everyone tries to defend their own interest. I guess that's normal... I guess.
I am very naive. fluffy like cotton candy

dedicated to all the Mariah Carey-90's-r'n'b-era fans, and people who are weak, and people who are sensitive, and people who understand.

How to Dress Well music used to be extremely lo-fi, cheap electronica influenced by vintage r'n'b vocals. I've always liked this style, very rough and a bit dirty. But on his new EP he decided to re-record some of his songs in an orchestral manner. Here is the result... Gives the songs a totally different atmosphere that I would have never expected. Someone said that strangely enough, in those super clean recordings, the singer's voice has a slight Jeff Buckley vibe. Couldn't agree more. A gay Jeff Buckley or something.

I saw him live a few weeks ago. It definitely impressed me. I think about the beauty of this night often. I wish I could generate such emotions inside of people one day. I know it's a kind of tacky sort of emotion, but I'm not ashamed to say that it's the one that moves me the most. Tears and all that crap. yes.

Freaks and Geeks is the truth

2011-06-23T16:43:00.000+02:00

Munō no hito

2011-06-16T03:48:00.005+02:00

from 無能の人(Munō no hito/Nowhere Man/L'homme sans talent) by Yoshiharu Tsuge (1987)

This is the story of a guy. Everything he does is bound to fail.
His wife says he is a wimp. His son looks ill, malnurished and suffers from asthma. The child's eyes are already dead despite of his young age, and he already seems abnormally dumb, clueless. Still, he looks after his lousy excuse for a father as if he were a hero... you know, that's the way kids are...
That guy's latest business idea is a shop of Suiseki, or natural stones admired for their beauty. He started this business only because it was the only kind that required no investment at the start. You just have to search for good looking stones, in the rivers and mountains and stuff, and sell them.
Oh yeah I forgot to tell you. The guy is poor. Of course. And his business pains to start up. Of course. Like every other businesses he's had before...

From that point, everything keeps getting more and more pathetic. His whole life is pathetic.
Curiously, the guy keeps going. It's like God or something is continually throwing rocks at him, each time bigger and bigger and increasing in quantity, still, he just endures it all without fighting or saying a word of protestation.
Keeps going.
Going to what? For what? I don't know. I don't understand. Aimless battle of life, I'd say. You're here for no reason, shit happens for no reason. So, what can you do. You happen to be here. There's absolutely nothing you can do about it.
His wife doesn't even love or support him anymore. She literally treats him like shit because she can't forgive him for giving up his passion, drawing. His son... I wouldn't be surprised if he died of a random desease before reaching puberty.
That guy has no dreams. No nothing.
But he keeps going.

Of course he could go back to his lucrative job as a mangaka. But his picky behaviour toward potential employers led him to lose all his contracts... Why did he quit this job? He used to be passionate. It feels like he is yearning for something meaningful, even though he doesn't even know what himself.
So, he keeps going.

Poor translation form japanese translated to french to english:

- Daddy... What kind of insect is it, the larvae?
- Ha! Ha! Ha! a larvae, well, it's...
... a bug that's absolutely useless...
Hm? Who told you about this?
- That's mommy... she says you're a larvae (larvae used in this context literally means wimp)...
-... Yes, that's it, a larvae it's a bug, just like your Daddy...
(birds in the sky:) - MORON! MORON!

This book is so depressing and hilarious at the same time. I feel pity everytime I read it, trying to understand how people can do that to themselves. Yoshiharu Tsuge's drawings stand out by their humbleness. No crazy effects, just detailed scenes of disappointing everyday life, here and there a few beautiful landscapes..
Also, the storyline is punctuated with little tales relating the lives of people even more pathetic than the main character himself.
Like the story of Seigetsu, a Ronin turned poet then beggar who wrote the most beautiful things but died alone rejected by everyone, covered in his own feces.

When I see life in general, I can't help but visualize an ascendent line. Sure there are highs and downs across the path, but everyone hopes for their life to get better, more interesting, more stable etc...
The hero of this book's life keeps evolving through a downward pattern. Things keep getting worse and worse. Joy never comes up every once in a while. It's just so dark.
Then it makes me imagine all those people who have shitty lives like this. They happen to get married, happen to have a child, that they happen to love, curiously, because, eh, it's their child after all. As a result they happen to have the hard task to provide for a whole family, even though their lack of will leads them to fail inevitably. They don't know how they ended up like this. In fact they never even asked themselves why. They just happen to be stuck in a situation that makes no sense at all.

Suddenly makes me become lucid because that person could be anybody. Me, you, anybody. It's all about choices, will, and a bit of luck probably.

Don't know how to conclude. The font they chose for the french edtition of the book that I have is Comic Sans MS, aka the dumbest font ever. I just noticed that yesterday night. Bad choice.

edit: it seems that they made a movie out of it. Here is the trailer... mh... why not...

random blog post is random pile of random thoughts

2011-06-09T02:43:00.002+02:00

Jizue - Tanpopo

From what I know, Tanpopo means dandelion

Hesitant feelings.

The piano and guitar melody seems to wave, back and forth, up the scale, then down, continually. You can see the dandelion seeds gently floating in the air... until a gusty wind comes and takes everything away: this is the second part of the song, the most intense. Things never really go back to normal. Only, at the very end, everything suddenly stops and only the piano remains, a few delicate notes and it's over.

I love this song by the band Jizue. Their piano driven music always manages to create gentle yet somewhat aggressive atmospheres, however, never dark.

///

Slowly starting packing and throwing stuff away as I'm moving back to france in two weeks.
I realize that I don't have many things. A table. Three chairs. A small vertical commode. A micro wave, a computer, a sound system, my synth and my two guitars... one tiny amp... that's about it. My "computer desk" as well as my working table are both made out of a wooden board supported by two trestles.
I don't have a bed: the mezzanine bed I sleep in is a wooden construction hemmed between the two main walls of my room. Just laid a matress on it.
Finally, all I have to pack mostly is a awful lot of CDs and books I gathered in time, my clothes and my paintings.

Looking at my appartment, I notice that I've never tried to make it look like a comfortable place. I can't remember ever inviting anybody to come over for dinner, or a party for example. A few times (mostly in the first years) I had two, three schoolmates randomly coming over because they had no other place to go after partying late at night, or for a group revision session before exams. Never people would come over to simply chill and randomly lay around. Oh, except one of my closest friend who sometimes visits me and stays a few days
This is probably why I didn't put more effort into decoration. Huge white walls... Also because, I confess, pictures on the walls start perturbing me after a while. White walls are better.

I've had a rather frugal lifestyle. Have never bought any object for the sake of "buying", and take pleasure in it. Everything had to be functional and as not expensive as possible. I remember often struggling at the end of several months, like many, many other students I guess... So I became really conscious about spending my money wisely.

My wardrobe for example, can easily fit in a medium size suitcase. When I buy clothes, I try to think about harmony, as I don't have many clothes, everything has to go together and be versatile. Again, nothing useless... But must always look a bit sophisticated in some way.

I'm not into consumerism to be honest, but... I think with this lifestyle, I've forgotten how it feels to be more superficial. To have some fun. Like, go to the cinema and not have that guilt of spending money on something unnescessary. Having a good time hanging out and enjoying a movie, is it really useless? All those things that make one feel carefree... Feeling good has an importance probably, but I can't figure out how to apply this concept of uselessness to my life.

I hope next year things will change a bit for me.

images

2011-06-07T01:01:00.001+02:00

There are a lot of websites dedicated to image sharing, photos, random pictures. But what I noticed while browsing these sites is that people eat the images. Literally. They consume hundreds and hundreds of images everyday. And they always seem to forget to see.
Images are precious to me. You have to treat them with respect. Look at a picture. Fall in love with it, hate it or feel indifferent. Let it find its place inside your imaginative world...
How can people look at so many images everyday? What do they see in the end? What does that mean? Sometimes it overwhelms me. I try to think of what the painters, the photographers and other people thought when they created those images. What they wanted to convey. If they really wanted to convey something, in the end...
Sometimes I try to play the game of endless images consumption. And at some point, it seems that the images auto generate themselves. They have no name. They just birth themselves, and die in the blinck of an eye. This is the internet. They come and die... They appear before your eyes and disappear the second after. I don't know if it's sad.
Or it's just me who is a bit maniac and like to examinate one thing at a time.

the curse

2011-05-28T00:21:00.003+02:00

Some nights, like tonight, nothing makes sense. It's like all my efforts didn't mean anything and suddenly, everything goes dark, again. My body gives up. My brain is free to do whatever it wants, since there is no resistance anymore. The mental pain becomes physical, again, this one is the worse.

It all happens inside my belly, as if my guts were twisting. I say pain. This is not exactly like pain... even if it hurts. It's concrete. But I can sense that it has nothing to do with a spontaneous movement coming from my body itself.
It comes from the mind. It's my mind that sends a signal of stress and despair. And my body doesn't fight against it. I kinda want to give up, too.

I know those negative ideas running through my head aren't real. They are just mental constructions, created by chemical reactions inside my brain.
No need to describe them, they probably only make sense to me.
Still. I can't do anything. I just stay there, look at the walls, and I can't do anything. I want to make them stop but I can't do anything. What do you do when your own mind is your worse enemy? I want to kill it. But if I kill it, I also kill myself.. So what do I do right now?

Well, I'm gonna do as I always do. I will keep focus on the walls, I will remain calm, sitting in my chair, looking at the wall. Doing nothing, most of all, doing nothing. So I don't feel tempted.
And I wait. It always goes away. I doubt it right now. However. I can just try to believe in it, hard. It will go away. It has to.

[even if it'll come back... sooner or later. and the same cycle will go on, forever and ever.]

I wish I had a body so I could go out and dance. and forget.

smoke

2011-05-24T11:56:00.001+02:00

by Bernard Edmaier

mersum

2011-05-23T19:13:00.001+02:00

by Cassie Tucker

///

Well. I don't know. I think I daydream a bit too much these days. It seems to be enough and keeps me (artificially?) extremely calm most of the time. You know what I missed the most? Positive, constructive daydreaming. This is how I kept myself alive for years and years and I had totally lost it these last years.

The other day I was thinking about finding a cool name for those 2-3 years of intense sadness. And then I thought, hey, if I'm searching for a name especially for that, it means that I'm over it now. It means that I'm detached enough.
And then... Well, I know this is far, very far from perfect right now. But still. I am breathing again. I manage to breathe. That's incredible.

I see the sun, and Spring blooming everywhere around me. So much light, so much heat. I'm still not too comfortable with it, to be honest. But this year,it's a bit less frightening. However, Summer is still yet to come, and this is the one I fear the most...

Yesterday I woke up at 4:30am to the sound of the rain pouring hard after days of drought. It was so intense, I just stayed in my bed, eyes wide open, trying to catch every lightnening and get ready for the thunderclap that would inevitably come right after. It was kinda exciting and somehow calmed me down. At some point the sun started rising through my windows, that almost are as big as the walls, and through the thin blue curtains.
The sound of the rain, lightening, thunder and progressive sunrise, everything felt perfect.
As if the thick veil of rain was there to protect me, envelop me. The rain has always been synonym of comfort to me.
I definitely was made for Fall and Winter.

///

I wrote all this as an introduction to a song. I come back to it often, could listen to it on repeat all day long as it has that odd effect on me. This is the reason for this text, as I think it expresses exactly what I felt on that rainy Sunday morning and the strange floating sensation I've been experiencing these last few months.

This is a kind of creepy song from the first EP by the superband "brutal orchestra" Vampillia. The vocals are by Tujiko Noriko. It's totally different from the rest of their work that ranges from post-rock to metal to orchestral to polka to ambient to... in this case, emotional folk.
As I said some time ago, even though her voice scares me I can't help finding Tujiko Noriko's voice incredibly appealing. Here it is paired with an emotional and repetitive melody played on acoustic guitar(s). The melody itself is soothing and sweet. But Tujiko Noriko's echoed vocals are so strange, it feels a bit weird, out of place.. Which is the reason why I have to play it again and again, because after a few times, the embarassment as well as the disgust disapears, and I can let my emotions flow.
I kinda love to experience that sort of love/hate relationship with music. I know this song makes me feel weird, but I keep listening to it anyway.

Tujiko Noriko is the boss.

forgiveness... (Haibane Renmei)

2011-05-14T23:30:00.001+02:00

Sometimes...

What if everything I do and say have only a signification for me.
I know we all live in our own dimension, with rules and perceptions that are our own. We will never know if people around us feel exactly the same as ourselves in any given situation.
What kind of sensation does the idea of "rain" evoque for you? How do you feel when you touch some wood? Drink water? Watch the sun setting?
Firstly, as far as I know, we are all part of a same species, human. Our bodies are designed (more or less) on the same model.
Then, there is the brain, much more complex. Life experiences, upbringing, traumas and joy and maybe personality.

So I was thinking, maybe my work only has a meaning to me. Maybe when people see it they don't have a clue. This is only something that makes sense in my brain, with my life, my own personal legends and stories, rules, emotions. And maybe I should keep it to myself and not ask others to understand, as there is nothing understandable to others.

///

I feel like I should only express my ideas via essays like this. This is where I feel the most honest, where social rules don't interfere.
I usually have that need to be nice and friendly with everyone. But maybe everyone perceive that nice and friendly, harmless social personality of mine as boring and tasteless. Maybe... Well, just want to let you know that I'm ofteb tired to be nice and friendly. But I keep acting this way for a reason I ignore. (or for the sake of being nice?)
I ignored. Until a few days ago.

Amend oneself... Forgiveness.. Maybe?

Reiki (left) and Rakka (right)

Haibane Renmei (灰羽連盟) is an anime that deals with life and death. Trust. Sins. And most of all, atonment.

The pace is slow, warm, the plot simple, with a long build up. There are only 13 episodes.

The main character, Rakka, came to life again after leaving her old one, clueless and terrified in a world totally unknown. Where everyone around her has an angel like appearance with a halo over their head and small gray wings.

We witness her slowly learning the rules, discovering the hard way that her body has changed and is still evolving, living life changing experiences... She's a newborn who already knows, but still has no clue, no souvenirs of who she was previously.
But there is one thing she can tell: Reki has always been there for her. From the start.
Reiki was there when her wings started to grow out of her body. She was the one who cleaned them and took care of the wounds.
Reiki was there when she came to life. Even before, Reiki was the one who found her, when she was still resting in her cocoon. She protected her and told him reasuring words, caressed the cocoon, treasured it as if it were her own, everyday. She promessed that she would teach her everything, protect her no matter what. That there was no reason to be scared.
At the time Rakka didn't understand, but she could still feel the warmth. This is how their sweet relationship started. Mother to daughter, best friends, maybe lovers... It's hard to describe.

Reiki really fascinates me. She has a cold yet reassuring personality. You can feel that she has been through a lot of things, that her life hasn't been easy. But still, she's so protective to everyone. of course, to Rakka that she desperately needs to protect. But also everyone else in the mansion. Children and other Haibane. Her personality and appearance make her look like the strong paternal figure of the mansion, where curiously everyone is female.

She is the one everyone can trust and respect. She's the one who chose to carry the burden.

As strong as she is, she always looks sad. Her mind seem to wander in another dimension. You will always find her smoking in a relaxed way, lost in her thoughts, or locked in her room, that nobody has the permission to enter. She works there. She paints. She tries to remember something important from her past. Still, the more she works, the less she remembers. It seems to kill her slowly.

Reiki also hides what she really thinks. She will only give elusive answers, that, if you pay attention, have a lot of meaning. You can tell everything she says is the result of a long reflection.

It's really interesting to see her deep, dark, adult personality, paired with Rekka's clueless one.

The young Rakka isn't naive. She just doesn't know. She's learning. But some of her actions and thoughts are so clumsy, Reiki can't help smilling and give a helping hand. Rekka brings hope and joy into Reiki's solitary life. This way, Rekka doesn't know yet, but she's already saving Reiki's life.

Reki, the protector, is being saved by the one she is trying to save.

Because, as the epiodes go, the atmosphere slowly moves from light and cheerful to dark. The last episodes are the ones I liked the most, and it's only at this point that you understand all that has happened before, why everyone was so suspiciously calm, light hearted. Also, the reason why Reiki was so sad. And her real personality.

No wonder the plot comes to a resolution in the darkest days of winter.

I think, at this point, Reiki's confessions are quite shocking.

She talks about her feeling of guilt. That invisible burden she keeps for herself. Her impossibility to trust others. And the impossibility for others to understand her.

And her desperate love for Rakka, well... She didn't understand at first. She thought she had full control on her and that feelings would never get involved.
But. As I said earlier, Rakka may be young, she is not naive. And love is such a powerful feeling.

Even after being betrayed and lied to, Rakka never gave up. And in the end she saved Reiki.

The same Reiki who had totally lost faith in love, relationships, trust. The same one who thought she was cursed and desperately searched for atonment by helping others and be as nice as possible... She didn't know that love was there, and that it had always been there. If only she had openned her eyes earlier...

As you can imagine, this anime touched me a lot. I didn't want to spoil the end but really, the last episode is so powerful, has so much depth and meaning, I thought I would cry. This is the kind of anime you feel lighter when it ends. This not sad. This is not happy.
This is life and acceptance. Nothing is a sin. You imagine it's a sin, and You ruin your life with dark thoughts... Relationships, random encounters. Being open to everything and let it bring peace inside you heart, so you can live your life with no regrets.
Sins aren't real.
The hardest part is being able to forgive yourself...

things from the past

2011-05-09T10:26:00.001+02:00

working on my portfolio for that school I want to attend next year. found this old picture of a painting I did a long time ago. looking at all these old works is interesting. I thought I would hate them all but finally, they give me hope. ganbatte. everyone!

2011-05-08T17:22:00.002+02:00

needed to be said.

2011-05-07T12:43:00.003+02:00

Kenmochi Hidefumi - New Moon

You know what I should have told that guy?

See, I'm sick. I am depressive. I have a serious bipolar disorder. This disorder implies, among other things, that I can't concentrate on things and feel overwhelmed easily.
Painting is a task that needs a lot of concentration. You have to work on the same task for hours, days, weeks, and sometimes months without knowing how the final result will be. It demands dedication and patience.
I can't even sit through a whole movie. I have to take two, three pauses because my head can't take that much at once. Watching a movie doesn't even require anything but... watch! I can't even do that.
Can you imagine how difficult it is for me to sit and draw or paint? I sit in front of the canvas and intense stress submerge me, litterally like I'm drawning, just because I know my brain is sick. It can't concentrate even on the most simple tasks. And it hurts me more than you can imagine.
This is one of the symptoms. I'm not being lazy. I'm not doing this on purpose because I am a poser. I'm acting this way because I'm sick and it's uncontrolable.
It's like saying to someone who just caught a cold to refrain from sneezing. This is impossible.
What is possible, though, is to take medecines to get rid of that cold.
This is what I'm doing. I'm gonna try to get cured from it. Not by taking medecine (at least I hope I'll never have to take these) but by seeing a psychologist. Because even though I'm sick and disabled, it is my duty to take the right decision for the well being of my body and mind.

Also, people being nice with me are actually the good ones. They try to understand what I am going through and try their best to protect me, even if they sometimes are a bit clumsy, they are the ones who care for me. These are the people I should thank.
Not you. I already tell myself to "kick my own ass", to "force myself", and that "come on, it can't be that hard" constantly. If it were that easy, I wouldn't be there, trust me.
I feel guilty enough, I don't need you to add to that feeling with your supposedly motivational ignorant bullshit.

That's all. Fuck you.

Karate - Cacophony

"but you don't say a word"

twin

2011-05-04T22:21:00.003+02:00

Julie Doiron's voice is so troubling to me because we have almost exactly the same kind of timbre.
Her singing voice, only when she sings in French, sounds very similar to my French talking voice. It's like listening to myself but with only a little twist that makes me wonder if it's really me.
Her voice is just a tad deeper than mine and of course some of her intonations are different. Still.
This is my favorite french song of her.

Uncanny.

bravo the piano is so beautiful
when I said that
the boy looked at me
bravo you did very well this time
when I said that
the boy didn't understand
but the guitar plays the melody
but your guitar plays me the melody
too bad I forgot my hands
I won't be able to play for you tonight
sadly we won't lose ourselves this time
you look at me with confidence
but your smile plays me the melody
and your eyes answer me
did you do that for me?
did you do that for you?
did you do that for us?

Bravo le piano est si beau
Quand j’ai dit ça
Le garçon m'a regardé
Bravo tu as très bien fait cette fois
Quand j’ai dit ça
Le garçon n’a pas compris
Mais la guitare joue la mélodie
Mais ta guitare me joue la mélodie
Dommage j’ai oublié mes mains
Je ne pourrais pas jouer pour vous ce soir
Hélas on se perdra pas cette fois
Tu me regardes avec sûreté
Mais ton sourire me joue la mélodie
Et tes yeux me répondent
As-tu fait ça pour moi?
As-tu fait ça pour toi?
As-tu fait ça pour nous?

{ego}

2011-04-27T14:16:00.003+02:00

This morning as I walked out my weekly sound design class, I came across a teacher I hadn't seen in months. We started chatting a little bit when the usual "what are you up to these days?" question came up. I quickly explained my current situation to him. He throws the weirdest look at me and says (translated from french):

"what are you saying? you're such a poser. you're not cursed. just move your lazy ass and get back to work."

At first I was a bit surprised. And then, it made me feel so fucking happy.

FINALLY someone had the guts to come and tell me the truth straight out.
My painting teachers always try to be gentle with me. A friend told me some time ago that they act this way because they think I would throw myself under a train if they acted too harsh or made me feel sad. Damn?! That's stupid and this is not helping me at all.

Today I want to thank that cool teacher: thank you.

i would have quoted the lyrics, can't understand a thing

2011-04-24T02:39:00.003+02:00

So this afternoon I was walking around my parents' living room when I came accross this old painting of a rose.
I painted this over 5 years ago when I was a first year student at my school. It was an exercise to learn how to build a frame, how to prepare a canvas and finally, oil painting technics. Actually it was my first and last time using oil.
The teacher told us to chose a subject that we would reproduce on canvas in a realistic way. A usual, I didn't make any effort to search for something that would have any meaning to me and grabbed the first thing laying around my working place: an over dried golden rose I primarily used as a part of a lame installation I had made some time ago.
Every Wednesday mornings from 9 to 12 we would work at the studio, working on the same subject repeatidely, the tiniest brush in hand, trying to make it as detailed as possible, in the limits of our oil painting knowledge of the time. We learned how to observe. How to see things for what they are. How a simple object can bring life into a plain white background.

I miss this. I don't see anything anymore. I've forgotten how.
These days I would like to take everything from the sart. Have fun again making sketches, pretend that I've never painted/drawn in my all life and enjoy learning everything from scratch. Technical, non emotional stuffs. See my objective progress weeks after weeks and be satisfied. This is what I want. I want to go back in time.

///

Of course, the bubble burst. I knew it would.

I wonder if I didn't write the post from a few days ago to make the feeling stay a bit more... At that point, I knew it wasn't as perfect and great as before.

I'd say it has been one hardcore return back to reality.

So. What now.
I've managed to keep the good feeling for something like two weeks. I'm glad I've been able to experience this. I have good memories of these two weeks.

Now all I have to do is learn from this and try my best to make it happen, again, and to make it be my "normality". I've touched it once. I can do it again!

///

Growing up. I still act as the autistic teenager I used to be. Did I miss something?

...

How To Dress Well - Suicide Dream 1

psychic rnb

It's cold and warm at the same time. It's deep colored with tiny hints of light. It's a blur or a thick smog. It's similar to compassion. It comes and goes, dies and comes to life again, endlessly. It's so big it embraces everything.

I have all the time in the world. I'll wait.

wtf.gif

2011-04-21T01:03:00.004+02:00

i... i was bored!

peaceful isn't a curse word

2011-04-17T18:57:00.004+02:00

Aus - With Rain

Today I'm all idm!

The video is just as striking as the music... nothing more to say

I wrote a post at the beginning of the week but deleted it within a few minutes.

Basically, I was saying that I had been in a peaceful state of mind for more than a week, ever since that great dream I described some time ago, that turned out to be the first of many others. I had stopped dreaming months and months ago and when I did dream, it was always awkward or uncomfortable situations that led me to force myself to wake up. Not exactly nightmares. More like random situations you certainly don't want to experience.
These days I often wake up laughing and then go back to sleep and re-wake up laughing, or smiling, with good memories in mind etc.
How weird it felt to be in such good spirits, how it made me see things differently, etc.

One more week has passed and nothing has changed. No anxiety attack (in fact only one that was nothing in comparison to what I usually have), not too many negative thoughts, and when I do have them, they're never overpowering.
I have reached a kind of constant neutral state ponctuated with moments of deep happiness.

I have to say that what I used to call hapiness, before these last two weeks, was in fact euphoria.
I was constantly going from profund sadness to some sort of fake happiness, euphoria as I said, my heart pounding fast, overracting to random facts, excessively positive delusions, etc etc... And this back and forth, up, down, up, down, without any sort of transition, and never any moment of neutrality.

My first fear is this state to brutally disappear and me going back to my previous situation without any warning. So, I try to prepare myself for the moment the bubble will burst, that will come sooner or later. I don't want to be caught off-guard and find myslef even lower that I initially was, left with a vague rememberance of the sweet mood interlude I am experiencing now. It's gonna hurt, but I want to be ready.

Aslo now I'm assured that if I ever fall again, there'll be a certain someone that'll be there and catch me no matter what. I am secure.

I tell myself that most people live a big part of their life in this neutral state, with highs and downs of course, but they always come back to it at some point. Still, to me, it only seems like a surreal interlude.

I'm on school holidays since last week, one more week of nothingness to go. I think it's the first time I'm truly enjoying holidays, doing nothing all day long and not feeling guilty. Just being here, now, focused.

sleeping is for the weak

2011-04-05T02:15:00.005+02:00

Progressively learning that most of what I've always considered to be my "personality traits" are in reality mundane symptoms of a disease.
I know my case has already been documented many, many times, doctors know everything about "me", written in books, studied in class, showed in movies.
About "me" as a mentally ill person.
If I ever get cured, what will be left of me, then?
You know things like. What kind of person am I? How would my relationship with the external world be if I weren't sick? How would I see my own life? What kind of goals would I have? Also, how does it feel to have concrete goals?

I can't remember how it felt like before all the nonsense started.

Therefore, the state I'm presently in is what I consider to be my normal state.

Perfect Future - Roses&Roses&Roses

It seems that the guys who wrote this song have been extremely lazy and thought that a nice little melody without any further development would do the trick! ah! I think it's a kind of bitter love song.
Of course it totally does the trick for me. Silly melody.
Though I'm not too fond of the rest of their album.

Heard it on the label Count Your Lucky Star's sampler number 3. All their samplers usually are interesting, I always find one or two new bands that catch my attention. Awesome label.

edit: I use the word "feel" way to much! time to find some synonyms.

sounds like a cheesy romantic novel

2011-04-03T23:01:00.008+02:00

laying on my mezzanine bed, between the floor and the mattress. my brother is also there, sitting on the mattress, we're all watching/listening to the TV. at some point you ask something like "are you enjoying it?" (I'm not 100% sure) and it seems like you're talking to my brother, so I don't answer. you ask again and again, and then I realize you're looking at me with a calm, warm expression that immediately makes me feel that I'm at home and safe, so I smile and finally answer "yes". then you slowly move your hand and touch mine lightly. I immediately feel connected, like a sparkle of warmth skyrocketing into my body. I'm happy and you finally take my whole hand to caress it. I promptly respond back. it all seems natural, how things are supposed to be. while I try to keep the feeling and let it spread through my veins, I can't resist to touch your hair. first very lightly and it's already unbearable, how sweet the feeling is. but I can't stop here and grab it with more violence. you seem to understand what's going on in my head, you seem happy and satisfied too. and the feeling persists as the dream slowly fades away.

Today I woke up with the craziest grin on my face. I tell ya.

Even if I feel like what I wrote is the text equivalent of a tacky glittery gif. (caution! may cause visual seizure):

... sometimes you have no choice but accept your inner tackiness.

subs you're so dramatic

2011-03-29T01:40:00.009+02:00

This is something my friend Yumi sent me. These are little pieces of paper used for decoration, if I understand well. Oh wait the exact name is Tesuki Chiyogami or handmade origami paper.
They were wrapped in a thin cellophane sheet and I've always been afraid to open it. So, here, I finally did 'cause I want to copy some of the patterns. Before dismantling this precious sheet structure I decided to scan the whole thing. And this is what came out. Pretty... My type of eye candy.

And to go with it, I think Haisuinonasa's music is perfect.

Haisuinonasa -Toshi no Kioku

Can't believe I've never talked about Haisuinonasa here. I can easily say that they've been my favorite band for more than a year now.

Intricate melodies, challenging rythms, technical piano loops smoothed by prominent basslines, intriguing vocals... And, again, THOSE RYTHMS!

Someday I'll write a proper text about them since their music gives me so much.

When I listen to them I imagine shiny glittery pure colors popping everywhere, bright pink, deep blue, indigo, bloody red... and maybe something like aurora borealis sky lights over a snowy northern landscape. The same colors as the ones on that Tesuki Chiyogami. Otherworldly and evocative music, meticulous yet highly emotional.

///

I don't know how to have fun.

What the hell?

The only thing I truly love now is listening to music. I love music. I want to be a music encyclopedia. I want to know why I like this, why I don't like that, and what this band means in music history, what makes me feel this way or that way, etc...

Unfortunately, I more and more often have these moments of stress even when I listen to music. It generally doesn't last long. But the problem is I can't help thinking that it started this way with everything else I've loved before, it started with little bits of anxiety... It scares me. I don't want to lose my love for music.

I already know I feel guilty because I spend so much time listening to music that I don't do much of anything else. I lose myself in it. And I think about all the other things I should normally be doing instead of that.

Guilt, guilt, guilt. Always guilt. About not doing the right thing. But what is right in the end? Exactly?

Having fun is not allowed to me. I see myself as a hard worker. I won't have anything if I don't work hard, sacrifice myself to a cause. To the cause of whatever I decide to throw myself into.

I know this is a lie. A lie that has become reality without my consent. But this is how I see myself: I have to suffer. This is the price to pay.

The price to pay for what?

For being there and not even being able to appreciate this matter of fact. That I'm alive. That it's a gift. Probably...

I am dramatic. I know. Can't be helped. Some people just don't know how to let it go. oh my god it rhymes

hard ni sasete, sasete

2011-03-26T18:11:00.003+01:00

There's one thing I'm always reminded of when I listen to Tujiko Noriko.

It lies in the disturbing erotism of her music, her disturbingly erotic voice.

Can you imagine having the power to make people feel sexual? Only using your voice and sounds or visuals?
From the very first time I listened to her, she scared me. I thought I hated her music. Because I kew she had it, that thing I've always aimed for when making my own music. She is openly sexual.
It has nothing to do with what mainstream industry tries to pass as sexual, and that we see everywhere, asses, tits, wet people on the beach touching each other... I mean this is sexual, but too obvious for my taste.

Tujiko Noriko's music touches something much deeper, almost disgusting and shameful. Fantasies and things you keep deep down inside of you.
This is something I wish I can reach someday.

The other night while listening to her music through headphones in my bed it became clear that I've always liked the twisted seductive power some girls naturally have, and because I've never and will propably never have it physically, I want everything I create to be haunted by this feeling.

Make you and them, hard...

Magic

Give Face

Rocket Hanabi

I don't know anybody from Nigeria

2011-03-18T19:57:00.003+01:00

It occured to me when my music player randomly chose a song by Fela Kuti.
I know people from: Benin, Ivory Coast, Niger, Rwanda, South Africa, Cameroon, and mmh can't remember the others. I mean, these are familly and my parent's friends. But no one from Nigeria, mostly because this is a British colonized country and people from there are more likely to emigrate to UK and United States, not continental Europe, where I live.

I'm saying that because one of the main language in Nigeria is Yoruba, and Yoruba is one of the language in which my half Beninese half Ivorian mother talks with her relatives.
So when, I heard Water No Get Enemy this afternoon, first this is one of my forgotten favourite songs ever. Second, when Fela Kuti starts singing, it sounds so familliar to me even if I don't understand the language. I recognize the sounds. And it's great. I feel like I belong.
Yup this is a last long favourite song. I heard it for the first time I was in my dad's car late at night, I think we were on the road back from some relatives living in Paris.
Those late night car trips in Paris are probably the only thing I totally remember and love from my childhood. This is why to me: Paris is the night, the non-invasive lights, hectic atmosphere mixed with the comforting feeling of going by car, warm seats, the illuminated July Column and Opera on the Place de la Bastille, and my fathers favourite albums or African music radio station in the background. Later replaced by the sound of my own portable music player that I would take with me everywhere, everytime.
One of those nights, I heard this song. It moved and impressed me a lot. Unfortunately ever since I've only heard it maybe 5 times... until today. Welcome back to my life Afro-Beat. I won't let you go this time!

Fela Kuti - Water No Get Enemy

Another late night back seat song story.

My father used to go to one of the biggest FNAC store in Paris once in a while and buy a bunch of African music cds (FNAC is a kind of Virgin Megastore selling a huge variety of music as well as multimedia products, books and cultural stuffs). I would often go with him and when my bulimia for music started, he would buy me some CDs (and books) I would choose myself. One day I picked up a Jefferson Airplane's Best Of. I was so excited over them, and Janis Joplin and The Doors also.

Anyway, I was so excited that as soon as we got back to the car, I teared up the cellophane and put the CD in my portable CD player (good old days! CD players, omg).

I was pretty far into the album when the song Wooden Ships started. It was so moving... You know it's like the universe around you and the song suddenly merge together and all your senses are stimulated at the same time. Paris streets, blue atmosphere, orange lights and a melody slowly unfolding.

Jefferson Airplane - Wooden Ships

Nostalgia sucks.

///

The photo. I have to create a sound composition to illustrate it. There were a bunch of pictures on the table. I chose this one. The irony is that this is the most sound-less picture I've ever seen.

The other day I went out randomly collecting sound samples for this project for the third time and again nothing good came out. I've started working on some of the sounds on Cubase. We'll see. I'm on that stuff for weeks now. I posted this photo because unfortunately this is the first thing I think about every morning when I wake up.

Which has been recently coupled with devastated towns and microSievert.

hey it gets better near the end you know

2011-03-10T20:14:00.001+01:00

Two weeks ago I had a close (internet?) friend coming over for a few days. I know him for years now but we don't see each other very often. We hadn't talked much these last few months and he had suggested to come visit me sometime in February weeks ago, so, perfect timing. We talked. It made me feel better.

I'm still not sure of what I've learned from these few days, but, for some reason, after he left, and even while he was there, I couldn't relate to him, trust him completely. I mean, I trust him. I feel comfortable with him. I can talk about anything. But there's still that invisible glass... I felt sad about it.

He asked me: "if you weren't yourself (like, someone else), would you be able to like/love yourself?" and I answered "No", probably because this is the kind of answer I thought he was expecting from me.
But in real... I would have answered "Yes".

I would feel very sorry for myself. I would pity myself.
Simply because I imagine that everyone feels this way about me.

And that's the point. That's the difference between him and me. That's why I couldn't relate. I like him. He is my friend and it's precious. But this feeling I can't relate was so strong.

Yes we talked. It made me think so much. I've been in a kind of insensitive, neutral period for days after he left. I didn't know how to react. I would just think non stop, try to digest all that he told me.

At some point I looked at myself and asked. What the fuck is all this. I need to act. Just stop thinking. I felt like I had been thinking so much during the last 3 years, that I forgot to actually do things. Put myself into life.

///

So. I've been in Paris for the past 6 days.

On Saturday I met up with a guy I know from a Japanese music forum. I asked him a few days before if he was ok for a meeting and he said yes. I still don't understand how I had the guts to do that, but I did.
And I don't regret it at all. It was very nice. I tried my best to be normal. But actually, I didn't have to try too much. Because it was just... cool. And normal. And freakin' relaxed. We talked about music and random stuffs. I didn't bother too much about my physical appearance, about my many fears and doubts, and how I'm afraid to walk in Paris streets on a sunny Saturday afternoon, etc. I wasn't even stressed before going. I wasn't expecting anything.

And I think, this little meeting helped me much, much more than any serious, meaningful talk. For a few hours I felt so normal. SO average. And this is priceless.

I guess the laid-back personality of the guy probably helped me feel this way.
But still. On that day, I definitely took one step forward. I wasn't trying to be unreachable. I wasn't trying to be the person I thought he was expecting me to be. I just tried to be me.

So, I have to thank that guy, even if he probably has no idea of what he helped me to achieve on that day.

///

And I also have to thank my friend who came over a week before because he helped me dry my mind completely. He made me realize the hard way that I can stop drifting in the wrong direction. It's my duty to stop drifting in the wrong direction.

He said:
"ever since I know you, I've never seen your situation evolve. There's always this darkness inside of you and you don't make any progress. It only keeps going down."

He knows me for maybe, five years? This sentence was a perfect description of how much I've let myself drown deeper and deeper with time. It's there, someone else witnessed it. I can't hide or lie anymore. This is becoming real.

And for the first time ever I was confronted to my own reality. It was like seeing myself in the mirror with no clothes on, no make-up, no good light. It was so gross and violent. It was real. It hurt for real. But sometimes, you need to get hurt real bad to finally understand.

///

I read somewhere that to be in peace with yourself, the most important thing is to accept your own banality.

how can anybody have a name like "J"

2011-03-03T01:05:00.002+01:00

J Mascis is officially the sweetest person on earth. He has a beard. He loves purple. He formed the band Dinosaur Jr. decades ago. And his new acoustic solo album is very awesome.

This video made me laugh so hard. The interviewer, "Maureen" is also a very special lady.

Awkward and fun.

2011-02-18T14:01:00.001+01:00

You never believe that one day you'll become the crazy girl of the internet, you know that person your mom always tells you "be careful, there are so many psychos on the web!!!", well, that psycho.
In a general way, you never believe that one day you'll become the person you've always said you would never be, even in your worse nightmares. Better die than being such a loser!!! Well, that person, here I am!

Live and learn :)

Ignorance is bliss, really.

put things in perspective

2011-02-17T10:48:00.015+01:00

Well...

I have a real problem. I mean, I know it for a long time, but this year has been like, the epitome of it all.
I am mentally ill.
I've mentionned my problems several times here, but today I woke up and the pain in my chest was so hard to handle, and in fact, I realized that these last months I have been in a constant state of fear and anxiety that turned into this physical pain. It litteraly hurts, my mind is always full of dark thoughts and I can't do a fucking thing. Like, basic things seem impossible, too unfathomable and scary, the few moments I get a break away from it are when I try to ignore the problem, which is not a safe solution.

I have to face it and get rid of it.

First, I was not ready to live on my own. In 6 years away from my country, city, I've progressively lost all my friends, have been almost unable to make new ones and now, I am a recluse with close to no social life. This is true, I don't know anybody at a personal level anymore. This is crazy. I used to take proud of it but now I realize: I'm such an idiot. I should have fought against it. I've been a real coward.

This is my major issue.

Now, I feel totally lost, lonely and without any purpose in life, with again, dark thoughts inviding my mind constantly, and nobody to talk to and help me put things in perspective.Which led to a succession of catastrophic events, public inapropriate and excessive reactions which put me in even worse situations.

And I'm not even talking about Internet. My relationship with it has also become a problem. Internet shouldn't be your main source of human interaction. This is what I've learned.
When everyone likes you and cares about you, it's fun, it makes the trick. But when things fall apart... This is terrible. I have a feeling of persecution, I feel like people are ignoring me and don't need me anymore. I feel let alone. I feel like everyone is annoyed by me and doesn't want to tell me directly. I feel a lot of hypocrisy everywhere, constantly betrayed and looked down, I can't stand it. It hurts a lot.

I just can't tell whether those things are just in my head or if they're real.
I think that I have become plain paranoid about it.

The thing that breaks my heart the most is feeling ignored.
Even on Internet I'm not interesting? Nothing is interesting in me? People can sense it through the screen?
I'm so sorry to disappoint everyone. I try to be a good person, but in the end... I just want to apologize all the time to everyone, for not being fun enough, for not saying the right things, for being such a let down, such a disease all the time.
I always think that it's all my fault and it's on me to make things change.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, how can I make it seem more sincere? I'm so sorry. Down on my knees." And the fact that I'm sorry is even more PATHETIC.
What kind of human being would let themselves appear so weak? Don't I have any sort of pride left inside of me?
"I want people to give me another chance, but why would they care about someone they don't even know for real? I'm just words behind a screen." What the fuck is this reasoning? Wrong, wrong, wrong.

And the real question is: why do I care so much about the opinion of people I don't even know for real? To the point of letting them influence my mental sanity? This is the core of the problem.

I have tried to talk about it with my parents... but you know, they don't really believe in mental illness. They sure tried to help me by telling me to be strong and stuff, to suck it in. I've always done that, it has made the trick for a long time. But this time, it is different. I need medical help. I was too weak to take this decision for myself and I would have loved one of my parents to propose this option to me. They are good parents, though, and I'm not blaming them in any way. This is just something they're not too familiar with.
I'm an adult now and I have to take my own decisions.

Fortunately, my art teacher gave me a list of mental health centers here in Brussels at the beginning of the October. I felt so ahsamed when he did and had to much pride to even have a look at it, but today I reconsidered.
I'm going to call them right after I finish typing this text. This is such an important decision. I'm fucking afraid. But I'm going to do it anyway because there is no other solution.

I have applied to an Erasmus program with the Beaux Arts of Paris. So, if everything goes well, next year I will be in this incredible school, that I've dreamed about for years. Huge change.
I wanted to go study in Japan, and I will go, but definitely not next year because unfortunately it's too late to apply.
In Paris I will live with my parents again, so I won't be alone anymore. Also I won't have to care about how to pay my bills and how am I gonna eat tomorrow anymore, which is a huge relief to me (to say the least). I've taken the right decision. Carefree again. I'm really looking forward to it. This is the first time in years I have a concrete project on the way. Not something related to trivial day to day life.

About this blog... I would like to stop exposing myself so much. But if I did it it is because I don't have any other way to communicate. As I said, I have nobody to talk to on a personal level, so as poor as it seems, this blog has been a nice substitute. A substitute that doesn't answer back.
I've even lost my sense of humour! At least, back when I started I really tried to be funny, maybe to hide the most hideous aspects of my life.
Maybe I'll still feel the need to to write? Maybe I'll have enough courage to post some of my work? We'll see.

Emotional support, attention and love, this is what I need right now...

Background Music

2011-02-16T01:00:00.006+01:00

SWIM SWEET UNDER SHALLOW - Background Music

This song showcases the most "simplistic" side of this band, SWIM SWEET UNDER SHALLOW. They make nice little pop songs, catchy and cute without ever sounding cheesy. Nothing too pretentious, just music that helps you go through the day in a sweet mood. Exactly what I need these days!
I adore the laid back, dreamy, hazy atmosphere, and all the positivity. I think that I need to take a break away from complicated rythms and melodies. I want to be naive.

Also I found out this fantastic website with pictures of female breasts. It greats you with a simple question:

Have you seen non-sexualized photos of normal breasts?

Away from pornography, sexualization, eroticism, artistic representation, milk factory for babies, etc. Just, real life breasts. With scars, stretch marks, veins running under the skin, some are shaggy, some are what I would call perfect but most importantly, all of them are perfectly normal.
Below each picture is a short text written by the person who sent a picture of their breasts. It's very touching.
People reading this blog who don't know me in real life probably think that I'm a weak person with a lot insecurities and stuff. Which is true, this is a part of me even though I don't show it at all in my daily social life.
Being a human being is hard. I know that a lot of issues have to do with self-acceptance, learn how to embrace oneself as a mind AND a body.
Watching these pictures, reading the texts says a lot about humanity. And how trivial we all are in the end, stuff like "I wish they were bigger/smaller/more attractive/I hate them"...

So, if you're a girl, I hope it'll touch you as much as it touched me, and if you happen to be a guy, I hope it'll touch you too and help you see femininity from a different perspective.
I'm very thankful to all these women chose to share this with us (with me, with you as individuals).

Your physical appearance has nothing to do with your value as a human being.

A feather stare at the dark

2011-02-07T23:55:00.008+01:00

Naoyuki Tsuji - A feather stare at the dark (extract), 2003

Grit my teeth and bear it.

mental masturbation

2011-02-03T09:50:00.019+01:00

Sometimes I wonder if I should enable comments on this blog.

I've kinda lost interest in that blog thing mostly because it feels like I'm talking to myself, masturbation of the mind... It's nice to express my thoughts on paper (on a computer screen), very liberating for someone like me.

But I would like to hear a 'girl you got it so wrong, from my point of view...' or 'yes I support you' from time to time. That human interaction thing, that, I realize now, is important.

///

I've been toying with the idea of going to Japan for 6 months next year, as an exchange student. It could be very easily done if only I could kick my ass and go see the guy that is in charge of it at my school. He is available every Wednesday. I was supposed to go yesterday but as always, I freaked out and gave up.

First, I would have to explain my project to the guy. The thing about me is that I freak out about situations before they actually happen even though usually, when I'm in the actual situation for real, I always do very well. I'm not a shy person. I just have zero faith in my abilities, like, why would a person like me have such project? How can a person like me even imagine that she has the right to have such project? etc. etc. etc.

Then, even if the guy accepts my project (which he most likely will as he always does with everyone else), I know I'm gonna have to keep up with all the administrative stuff, apporaching the Japanese art school I want to attend, etc. etc. As I wrote above, I have zero confidence in my abilities which leads me to feel discouraged pretty easily. When I have several things to take care of, I feel so overwhelmed, put a lot of pressure on me because I can't fail. Which inevitably leads me to fail. Downward spiral.

In times like this, I would really need someone to push my back. You can do it. Can I?

All I know is that I need a breath of fresh air, may it be Japan, northern europe, Africa. I need to go somewhere. (It's funny how I'm able to write all this even though I don't even live in my own country right now... )

I know if I look at this whole thing objectively, this is no big deal, my fears are unjustified. I know it perfectly. Still, I have no take on them.

Ever since my aborted Japanese trip from a few years ago, I really have no faith in my capacity to take decisions and stick to them.

///

Oh yeah and Lucky Star. This is a real caption taken from episode 23. The quote is from Konata's father even if it seems that it's Konata's ... Which makes the whole thing even more funny. Look at their contented expressions.

2011-01-21T18:39:00.003+01:00

I performed live for the first time today. And I sucked. Very very, very much.

That's it :)

I so want to do it again (without the 'I sucked' part)

I can't remember the day it started, I don't know when it's gonna end

2011-01-19T03:16:00.016+01:00

There are people who see life as a line, with a starting point A and then a succession of goals B, C, D and so on.
All I see certainly isn't a line. I see... a cercle? a square? so small that it can only contain my feet. There is no evolution, the surface is way too small to even think about moving.
So. Here I am. I don't achieve anything. I don't start anything.
I've always thought that I was of the creative kind. I guess. Seing how much I screw up every opportunity. I don't think that I have a special talent in anything (because only hard work brings talent. Everyone knows that.) My imaginary life is awfully limited, codified, not free at all. I don't master any technique enough to call myself a professional.
Certainly, to come up with visionary ideas and concepts you have to interact with the world you live in. I don't live in this world. I barely go out. I barely meet people. I barely know what's going on. This is why my imagination is so scattered.
What's my kind then? You know I've already talked about that feeling of not being able to place myself in the society, or in the hierarchy of life paths.(Does that mean something)
Maybe I should quit school, find a very physical job and stop thinking. All that creativity bullshit. It's a lie.
When joining art school... I imagined a lot of things. Most of them were very magical and fantastic and included naked ladies and flying unicorns. Now all I need is to get out of here. Graduate. FAST.
And then go live in a tiny room in the middle of a big, big, really big city, and remain unnoticeable, unseen, un-whatever.

///

I talked via MSN today for maybe the second time in my whole life. It was so strange to discover that even on the internet I can't seem to talk properly. Probably because this was 'one to one'. In real life I can shut up and try to make the other person talk as much as possible. Or run away. But on the internet, even more when I am the one who took the initiative... I'm empty. I don't have anything to say. No wit, no sense of humour, no culture, no nothing. Oh. At least, now I know.
These are things you learn. Oh. I'm bland. Oh.
.....Eh.
I already knew that. So I didn't learn anything today. Simple confirmation of what I already knew.

Ok now go to sleep, tomorrow, examination. When you reach that level of failure, really, you ask yourself. What's the point? I don't know, my dear Y., I don't know.
At least, let's fail with style. Let's laugh at it together.~ Everyone! Join you hands and sing with me:

RENUNCIATION

There is no one in this world I want to impress anyway!
edit: There is no one in this world waiting to be impressed by you anyway... so. shut up. boom tchack boom tadaaaa~~~

the fog

2011-01-12T23:21:00.003+01:00

Climb The Mind - 給水塔の前で待ってて

I don't have much to say about the cheap video, though... aheum.

Because sometimes everything seems way lighter thanks to an expressive bass line....
Can't seem to get enough of their precious melodies.

I'm in a weird mood these days. I think that I'm uncounscious? I float? I strangely ignore a lot of things around me, as is I were trapped in a comfy thick fog... This is interesting. This song and the whole album it is extracted from, describes this feeling perfectly. Those fucking bass lines. All I want is to melt into them permanently.

Or maybe I simply need to sleep more.

Do ya thang (2)

2011-01-12T04:33:00.006+01:00

So (again), a few hours ago, after my pathetic noise music experimentation, (...-_-...) I started messing around on synth playing one of my favorite song of 2010, Yureru by Kimonos, the electro-pop project between the legendary Mukai Shutoku (Number Girl, Zazen Boys...) and Leo Imai.
And then I decided to record a late night piano cover of it.
I made a lot of mistakes, and it's not perfect at all. I started memorizing the lyrics by ear back in December. I really tried my best...and I'm off-key...oh well... I guess it sounds a little better if you listen through headphones.

Yureru (Kimonos cover)

The original song has a beautiful atmosphere and even if I didn't understand the lyrics when I first heard it, I could feel how bittersweet and melancholic it was.
Can't seem to find any streamable version of the song online. But here are the lyrics found on the blog Seiteki Shoudo where a guy romanized and translated them. At first I had to romanize the song myself, if only I had known about this site earlier... What I sing sure is not as accurate as what is written here.

Yureru
By Kimonos

Music and Lyrics by Kimonos (Shutoku Mukai and Leo Imai)

ゆれる　風の日のメロディー
yureru kaze no hi no merodi
Waver, the melody of windy days

ふれる　夏の日の香り
fureru natsu no hi no kaori
Feel, the smell of summer days

ぬれる　雨の日のメロディー
nureru ame no hi no merodi
Get wet, the melody of rainy days

ずれる　穴だらけのメモリー
zureru ana darake no memori
Shift, memories full of holes

もうちょっと　夕暮れまで
mouchotto yuugure made
Not long ’till twilight

ふらふら　ふらついて
furafura furatsuite
Staggaring around shakily

ささくれ立った気持ち
sasakure tatta kimochi
Feeling frayed upon standing

ゆらゆら　ゆらす
yurayura yurasu
Wavering… shaking

泥だらけになって　素っ裸になって
doro darake ni natte suppadaka ni natte
Being covered in mud… becoming naked

天の邪鬼な気持ち
ama no jaku na kimochi
Feeling like a perverse demon

ゆらゆら　ゆらす
yurayura yurasu
Wavering… shaking

ゆらゆら　ゆれる
yurayura yureru
Wavering… swaying

ストレンジな踊り　まるい図形の周波数
sutorenji na odori marui zukei no shuuhasuu
The strange dances of round shape frequencies

ささくれ立った気持ち
sasakure tatta kimochi
Feeling frayed upon standing

ゆらゆら　ゆれる
yurayura yurasu
Wavering… shaking

素っ裸になって　泥だらけになって
suppadaka ni natte doro darake ni natte
Becoming naked… being covered in mud

天の邪鬼な気持ち
ama no jaku na kimochi
Feeling like a perverse demon

ゆらゆら　ゆらす
yurayura yurasu
Wavering… shaking

ゆらゆら　ゆれる
yurayura yureru
Wavering… swaying

Na, na, na, wavering

(Leo)

夜とよろける　声が震える
yoru to yorokeru koe ga furueru
Staggaring around at night, voice trembling

Na, na, na, wavering

影とちらつく　そのまま揺れる
kage tochira tsuku sono mama yureru
Flickering shadows… all because of the wavering

Waver, waver, waver

ゆらゆら　ゆれる
yurayura yureru
Wavering… swaying

———

Note: 天の邪鬼 (ama no jaku) is translated as “perverse demon” here, combining two meanings. The term can be applied to perverse people, but is traditionally a demon in Japanese folklore. Ama means heaven, or the sky, and jaku is a demon. Some of the common themes of the album may suggest the speaker is referencing the traditional demon. For more information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amanojaku

cosmic bukkake

2011-01-06T01:26:00.019+01:00

I've been sick for the last 2 weeks, and also had to work every evenings and nights. My contract ended on Sunday and from then, I've spent last monday and tuesday in bed, exhausted. It has not been easy but I needed this money. Now I'm ~~releaved~~ relieved. And today I'm starting feeling better (even though my voice has mysteriously disapeared). Totally worth it.

///

Can't you hear the Lite-esque intro??

I've been listening to Akutagawa a lot. For nights as soon as I lay in my bed I started coughing in pain, so I used to sit against a pillow and listen to Akutagawa. I still couldn't sleep in this position, but I remained in a comfortable semi conscious state where the music just envelopped me, and it was just my feelings freely interacting with the sound, creating magical spaces and shapes, beautiful atmosphere and timeless landscapes.
Their self titled album is one of the only albums I can't help but listen from start to finish. Every single song has a meaning and the atmosphere as a whole always heals me, maybe because it is so gloomy and kinda sad. It's positively sad, does it makes sense? Akutagawa has a special place in my heart. Their music is important.

Then, last week I heard Balloons new album, Egal ist 88. This, As Meias II and Akutagawa's discography are all I've been listening to these last weeks.
Akutagawa has a kind of inherent hope. It litterally screams EMO! (guys, remember that everytime I talk about Emo on this blog I mostly refer to 90's emo, not emo bands from the 00's a la My Chemical Romance, which is a totally different kind of music... Ok? Just wanted to make it clear...)
To me this is modern religious music. It gives hope and enlights the heart. I can imagine this kind of music played in cathedrals or something and people in trance crying and singing, praising some new God, that would be personal and unique, without any history or legends... Something personal and unique and here right at the moment. Not after death. Not before birth. Here and there, holding everyone's hands, spreading the light.

So, yeah Akutagawa is positive and somewhat, heals.

Balloons sound is awkwardly ill. How can I put this.
Even if, to me, both bands share some similarities (the unique Japanese post-hardcore/rock sound... One in a million!) Balloons music is much more intricate and uncomfortable. Balloons would be like the musical rendition of a illness.
You know when you recall the winter days when, as a kid, you had a strong fever and had to stay home in your warm bed all day long, in a kind of permanent delirium, and how your mother took care of you, cooked you some soup and forced you to eat up some disgusting medicines. This is not exactly a nice memory, but now that you're older, you can't help but feel nostalgic. Some kind of inner warmth. This is what I mean.

The melodies, even though most of the time they start up with a positive feel, always end up sounding perverted.

Unhealthy.

Add to this uncontrolable time signatures, indecisive bass lines and jazzy guitar melodies that seem to wander endlessly, really. Balloons doesn't give a comforting vibe at all at first listen.

To me, they perfectly fit in the current weather. It's cold, windy, the snow is slowly melting.

But at the same time, we can observe beautiful dawns and dusks. Doesn't it feel a bit out of place? Those pink, orange-y colors against the cold blue sky, naked trees and frosted dew on the streets, houses, street lights... This is werdly beautiful. Not exactly beautiful. But a kind of beauty that strikes a very special chord, far away from conventional beauty, evidence... Much more intricate. And I'm glad this kind of beauty exists. This is what Balloons evokes to me. Warm and cold at the same time. And oh so melancolic.

This new Ballons album also reminded me of Karate so much.
And the instrumental track Motive of a Separated Fluid has a nice Mercury Program vibe. Probably because of the inventive hints of synth.
My favorites, after many listens, are Abused Colors, Bestrew and more than anything, A Black Rectangle. Awesome song with a totally unexpected guitar solo that makes my heart melt every time.
Oh and also the last track Discard is a nice homage to American Football. The horns! Ok, maybe this album ends up on a genuinely happy note after all, even though the last minute is typical Balloons disturbing melodic mess...
I'm really admirative of the direction their music is taking.

More American Football because I just feel like spreading the love:

///

I mean. Come on. What are my expectations. Why the fuck would he lose his time with someone so away... It makes me feel angry. Against myself, against him, against the impossibility of anything to ever happen between us.

When you envision it, you get excited. When you plan for it, it's possible. But when you do it, when you schedule it and you do it, It's real.

2010-12-12T02:26:00.014+01:00

Specifics - Under The Hood

///

The other day I watched a Korean movie: Vegetarian (Chae sik ju ui ja) by Im Wu Seong.

This is the story of a young housewife who suddenly refuses to eat meat and falls deeper and deeper into some kind of mental illness leading her to believe that she's part of the vegetal reign. Her sister as well as her brother-in-law, who is a an artist desperately searching for inspiration, try to help her.
But as the movie progresses a very special relationship grows between her and the artist.

You can download the movie at this adress with English subs if you want to watch it....

The main character, Yeong-hye played by the actress Chae Min-seo is absolutely fascinating.
First of all, this is an excellent actress. I always find that Korean actresses in independant movies, the way they play, act very different than Japanese actresses. They have a kind of strenght and intensity and always seem extremely natural.

Everytime she appeared I couldn't help looking at her body. As Yeong-hye suffers from anorexia, the actress had to lose 8kg for this role. She looks so skinny.

In magazines and stuff there are skinny models everywhere. But they're always very young, mostly teenagers. Even if they're extremely thin they still have that "baby fat" that makes them still look kinda healthy and desirable (full cheeks, childlike faces and, dunno, it's like their body is wraped in a thin layer of fat. They're skinny but soft).
I'm not even talking about the wonders of photoshop that make their body look even more unreal.

We've also all seen images of people from countries suffering from famine. There, it definitely falls in another category... It's extreme and painful to watch.

So, yes, I've seen skinny bodies before, but the way they filmed hers... The bones. I have these images in mind all the time.
I'm probably spoiling the movie a bit with the following images. I'm sorry.

These are stills from a scene where the artist edits some footage of Yeong-hye:

She has beautiful flowers painted all over her body. It's as if her fantasm of being a plant finally comes true.

The artist is still watching the video. Then suddenly, he stops the video and stares.

Her hip.

Don't even know where to start. It's at the same time beautiful and scary. The way the flower seems to simply lay on her hip, embrace her body delicately, and the way the bones are blatantly visible. You can't see here but there was also a part where they showed her rib cage.
How can I put this... This is extremely erotic to me. Because.
- The flowers are blood-red. Even though you know it's painted on her body, it eerily recalls flesh. Like, magnified flesh.
- Yeong-hye's character is extremely fragile but at the same time, all through the movie, she never appears weak. It seems that this image expresses this feeling perfectly. She's crazy, for sure, and the way her body looks is the metaphorical expression of her craziness. On the other hand. You can't help but find her weirdly desirable.

Some other scenes I found very evocative:

Ok this last picture is my favourite because all of sudden crude reality appears.
This is skin. And she's apparently cold.
There is painting on this skin. Up close, you can't tell these are flowers and this doesn't look pretty anymore. This is really disturbing to look at.
Talking about reality, something I found extremely amusing: she obviously has fake breasts. You can see it on this image. I immediately noticed it because when you lose that much weight, there's no way your breasts remain that "firm", full and round. Especially that full, even when she lies down they stay in the same position, even when she's wearing clothes but no bra, they're still way too firm. It's really visible when she stands up. It defies gravity...
I know this is a terribly mundane remark, but it made me find her body even more fascinating, and in a way, the character's need to go completely natural, to become one with nature, plants, is ruined kinda ruined by the actress herself. Because of that little detail. (in my head)

///

You know the other day I wrote about young people and their strange vision of sexuality and seduction.
I probably sounded a bit condescending and uppity. I even deleted this post out of shame...
Even though I mostly wanted to write something fun to read. Because people perceive me as extremely ignorant in that matter, and I'm often the-one-that-is-so-naive-it-hurts.

So, watching this movie questionned me about what do I find attractive? What is attractive to me in the end?
Well, in a way, this post is an attempt to define my own vision of erotism. Of course this is not my absolute vision of erotism. Just an example of what I like.

I'm very sensitive visually, that must be why I'm so impressed with female bodies and why I'm afraid of women at the same time.
Even if I am one myself.
But it's complicated. I feel like I'm so out of it, I don't understand how I can be considered as a woman when you see so many beautiful creatures in this world. And by beautiful, I'm not only talking about bodies or faces. Every women have that thing undefinable.
Even though I've learned with time that I was a full blooded heterosexual.
I just appreciate the mystery of beauty and am always amazed at how some things that are not meant at all to be appealing can be extremely erotic in the end. May it be women, men, flowers, furnitures, textures, etc etc.

I wonder why the people I was talking about in this post are so terribly common. There are so many ways to seduce someone. So many ways to see sexuality. And they only see the gross, uninteresting, boring way. And it saddens me so much.

I recently came accross the concept of Mundane Reason. According to Wikipedia:

The basic premise of the concept of mundane reason is that the standard assumptions about reality that people typically make as they go about day to day, including the very fact that they experience their reality as perfectly natural, are actually the result of social, cultural, and historical processes that make a particular perception of the world readily available. It is the reasoning about the world, self, and others which presupposes the world and its relationship to the observer; according to Steven Shapin (Shapin 1994:31), it is a set of presupposition about the subject, the object, and the nature of their relations.

Yes, this is it.

Think. Discover. Learn about yourself, your own desires. Don't be afraid. Find your individuality. Question every single thing around you. Why do I act this way? Why did I say that? Fear common thinking. Don't believe in what you've been taught to be normal. Always try to see things form different points of views. Be open to new ideas.
I know this is a hard and painful path. I know you will discover things that will certainly not please your ideal vision of yourself and the world around you. But this is who you are. Be yourself. Don't be what you think people want you to be.

I'm not even sure I'm fully following all these rules myself. All I know is: this is what I aim to and what I keep in mind every single day.

Benevolently

2010-12-07T02:50:00.001+01:00

I used to "stalk" this girl on lastfm and follow her blog and twitter. She's started making her own music a few months ago.
I absolutely hate her music, but I admire her strenght and courage. She started out of nothing and little by little created her own little universe, with intriguing visuals and a personal sound. She seems to enjoy herself doing it. At the same time she has no illusions about the quality of her work. She knows this isn't perfect. But who cares? She expresses herself. And as much as I loathe her sound choices, I can't help but feel a lot of tenderness towards her.
Of course sometimes she writes things or makes comments that I have a hard time sympathizing with. But it's a part of her. And I think that this tenderness that I'm feeling also surrounds all these negative things.

I like her for who she is (err, I mean, what the the internet tells me she is...)

And I like the idea that she has no idea of who I am and what I think about her.

***

So there is that new rule of mine that says that it's not worth recording/start arranging a song if I'm not able to play and sing it from start to finish with one instrument. Because it has to have a "finished" feel even in its most simple form.

I like making music. Even if the result never satisfies me.

***

It was back in the time when I had several obsessions and uncontrolable fears of an hypothetic end of the world, revealed to me by a recurrent dream (or, nightmare?) of the world imploding right before my eyes. You know that kind of view from afar like in SF movies. It was so real.
I was fucking sure that it would happen, definitely, but, wait, I am human I live on this planet, so even if the earth implodes, I wouldn't be able to witness it from afar. I would be there, dying with the rest of humanity, animals, nature anyway. What is weird with that old recurent dream is the fact that I'm standing outside of the whole thing.

Another dream I had before that was a vision of apocalyptic world, everything looked normal, just a a bit more... reddish? well, the air was thick and red. And the only way to escape from this world was to reach an EXIT sign. That kind. There were only a few exit signs, said the guy/woman on TV. I had seen one. But it was so high in the sky. Unreachable. I wasn't scared or anything. It was a light, simple feeling. "It's too high. I can't reach it. Can't be helped." Just like when you look at the sun. You know it's real and physical, but you can't reach it. It exists. You can feel the sun rays on your skin.But you can't reach it. Can't be helped.

A few years before that fear started, I had slowly built a solid obsession with cerebral stroke, and violent death. As stupid as it can seem, I contracted this obsession when I was very young, watching an episode of Heartbreak High (Hartley, coeurs à vif in French!) where one of the main characters dies on a boxing ring after being hit. The death itself didn't impress me. It's after, when his girfriend learns the reason of his death: cerebral stroke... I mean, this horified me so much, my heart was litterally pounding and everything. So, people could die like this? Without any before or after? You're alive and one second after. You're dead.
Of course I started searching for informations about it, and I was very young at the time, I never asked any adults about it. I've never asked any adults about anything anyway.

each in their own way

2010-12-03T15:36:00.008+01:00

Original track Clouds by Gigi Masin

Five Deez - Latitude Tribute Mix.

This new version of the song Latitude is extract from the tribute album Modal Soul Classics II , in memory of Nujabes who originally composed the instrumental and used a sample of Gigi Masin's Clouds

Björk - It's in our hands, also using samples from Clouds

You know sometimes you listen to a song and think "damn this melody really reminds me of something else!" well... Here we go. And still each song is beautiful in their own, unique way. Three awesome tracks.

Music is amazing.

This blog is officially turning into a psychology magazine.

2010-11-24T02:25:00.006+01:00

“His search . . . led him increasingly to relations in two dimensions: with his fictional Glass family, or with living ‘pen pals’ he met in letters, which lasted until meeting in person when the three-dimensional, flesh-and-blood presence of them would, with the inevitability of watching a classic tragedy unfold, invariably sow the seeds of the relationship’s undoing.”

J.D. Salinger’s version of events? “You can’t ever find a place that’s nice and peaceful, because there isn’t any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you’re not looking, somebody’ll sneak up and write “Fuck you” right under your nose.”

Extract from this article.

And also, I wrote something some time ago about Himote and what impressed me was that even though they avoided most social life, they still had the need to connect to the world, meet new people (mostly their peers), and seemed to be able to go to work, do everyday life stuffs that include social interaction. Their only real issues are sentimental relationships.

So I looked further for those kinds of unconventional lifestyles (probably the result of mental issues, not free choice...) and found out about Hikikomori, which is, like, the extreme, extreme form of social withdrawal.

Here is very detailed, complete article about Hikikomori in Japan from the New York Times. It's long, but I learned a lot.

Here.

Can't write a proper review about it, so much informations and questionings are rushing in my head, but really, this is an important read to me. Just wanted to share.

Just... I can see how all these troubles mostly affect boys because, from what I read, the society put them under pressure, they have to have a good job to find a wife, support a family, etc.

But I would love to read about female Hikikomori.
What is said about the only female mentionned in the article is that it all started with physical image troubles.
The truth is female bounding is an extremely serious and important thing, and it is much more physical, tactile than male bonding.

And then I noticed that I've had two close female friends in my teenage life.
The first one, I admired her so much, it wasn't a mutual feeling. I listened to what she said, and admired the way she acted, but I don't think she ever learned anything about me. I've never talked much.

The second, well we were kinda "forced" to stick together and even at that time she had a lot of other female friends that weren't mine obviously, and I observed their behaviours and attitudes as if they were aliens, curious creatures from another world... We didn't understand each other at all.
I've always thought that she pitied me, but years after she told me that she had some serious anger against me because I was really good at school and knew a bunch of (useless) cultural stuff, music, and so on, "without doing anything" while she had to struggle to have decent marks. But what she didn't know is that I envied her physical appearence and bubbly, 100% female personality. So in the end, we deeply hated each other to death.

Other than that, all of my friends and best friends have been boys. And I wonder how much this had had an effect on my personality, my tastes, and the way my brain developped as a teenager until now. I think that the lack of female bounding, if you add to this that I only have brothers, is something I should think about more concerning my lack of social skills.

late night randomness at its finest

2010-11-20T05:59:00.016+01:00

I'm thinking.

It's 4AM, I'm watching old episodes of My So Called life and all I'm thinking about is cooking veggie Bolognaise sauce with pastas and Parmesan cheese.
They make another cheese that they sell in a package that ressembles Parmesan that is called Grana Pardano. It's way cheaper than Parmigiano-Reggiano (Parmesan) but the taste is much less flavorful and not as strong.
Learning about what you eat is important.
And what is even more important is that Parmesan is a traditionally organic cheese, a quality product that is extremely controlled while Grana Pardano's production process is very loose.
So my conclusion is: Don't buy Grana Pardano. Not worth it.

Behind me is the painting I'm working on lately, I know I could be working on it right now, but instead I'm trying to forget its presence because out of all the stressful things of life painting is the stressful-est.
I need money, haven't found any part time job so far, so I'm really looking forward to that full month job in December and hope that when I'll be back in Brussels in January, I'll finally find a regular part-time job. I need money so bad...

I've worked at DRP during every holidays since 2005. Except this year, 2010, because for some reason there was no place left for me... 2010 has been a terrible year financially. I haven't sold any of my work, I haven't worked much, I've had a lot of unforseen expenses... Not fun at all.
So yeah, this December I'm working at the restaurant WWS. I've worked there twice before. It's been a nightmare. Working at DRP already is a nightmare. Working at the WWS is even worse.

I'm not afraid of working hard or having an anarchic work schedule. No.
Here is the REAL nightmare:
During holidays when I work there (July/August, Halloween, Christmas, and Spring break) it's full of teenagers/young adults only obsessed with sex and flirts and easy money (these jobs definitely are easy money...), males like females, no disctinction, who would hit on anything from the opposite sex that looks even slightly human. It's full of hormones, desires, pulsions, after work drunken parties and human mediocrity. I have nothing against sex, flirt and fun. But I sure have a problem when it's paired with stupidity.
Even the numerous non-French young people that work there coming from various places of Europe (mostly UK, Germany, Italy, Spain, Finland, etc etc) and who obviously are educated, well-manered people, turn into animals in this stupid environment.

What about me? I'm scared. I just make as if I didn't exist, do my job, and try to forget. That's all.
Again, I have nothing against all that... sexual stuff, that I don't understand, but I guess it's a part of human development, and hormonal necessities and all those things I'm having a hard time understanding, but, well, ok. Why not. It's just the way they... present it. Crap like:

"why are you so shy? You never talk, always standing back... Are you afraid of men? (...whoa?) You know it's ok to feel close with a man. (...whoaaa??) Blahblahblah. Whenever you need it you know you can come to me you know? (wth you're the least person on earth I'd like to approach) I'm a very caring guy..."

I'm not even exagerating. I've really had those kinds of one way conversations several times. Lame.
And I'm not even that pretty.
Sincerely, I see so many stunning foreign girls that are hit on all day long and enjoy it, for the most part... It seems?

Oh I forgot to say. I don't know why. But I think that DRP mostly hires very hot foreign girls. Never in my life I've seen a larger concentration of very attractive girls, you know, young and fresh and friendly with a perfect smile and that kind of irresistible foreign accent when they speak French or English that makes your heart melt instantly. And most of the time they have the jobs that imply direct contact with the clients.
This is the image they want the visitors to see, because DRP is the land of dream, magic, beauty, etc. etc. That's sad. That's tragic. That's reality.

Sometimes I tell myself that I will have no other alternative in my life than working there full time forever until I'm old and everything, and there'll still be an old dude with very low expectations (or very high sexual frustration) (because if you start hitting on me you seriously have no higher expectations, hahaha!) to ask me if I want to "spend some time with them " *shudders*.

Talking about it, when I was little I never realized how much the show My So Called Life dealt with teenage desires and questionnements about sexuality. It's fun watching old TV shows from a totally different perspective because when I was little I only thought that Angela was maddly in love with Jordan Catalano, that her feelings were pure and delicate and it was so romantic. I was naive. It makes me love her even more. She is even more human than I thought...

Steve Reich's City Life

2010-11-17T01:09:00.004+01:00

City Life!

This video is so 90's. The sound samples "check it out!" are also so 90's it hurts.

I remember getting the video tape of this + documentary about the piece years ago, when I was in ~~prep~~ cram school!
I remember loving the epicness of this piece. This is the opening part named Check It Out.

Here are the 4 others in order:

Piledriver/Alarms

It`s been a honeymoon

Heartbeats/Boats & Buoys

Heavy Smoke

If you ever have the time to "check them out!" haha.
Each part have a very distinct atmosphere and really listening to them all is an experience I'd recommend to everyone. They're short, easy to get into and the video itself, with live shots, historical and documentary-style images makes it all seem even more meaningful.

I have Sound Design class ~~tomorrow~~ in a few hours.
This year I'm getting along with the teacher quite well compared to before. It makes me feel happy, I want to make my own music again.

ghost

2010-11-13T03:46:00.016+01:00

You know sometimes I see brief flashes of light on the sides of my eyes and because it takes me by surprise I can't help thinking: "a ghost!" even if shortly after I realize it's just my usual eye problem.

There is that interesting story that gets stuck in my head when I'm awake late at night.
The night my maternal grandmother died/passed away -none of her grandchildren born in Europe had ever met her-, my cousin was awake and felt her luminous presence in the dark. She wasn't afraid, it was a nice, warm feeling. Then she said that she probably visited all of us, her grandchildren, but we were asleep so we didn't notice her presence. (... yeah, right ...)
It was only a few years ago, maybe five?six? As "touching" as this story is, it seriously scared the crap out of me.

Because it seems that Susquatch's guitarist Kenta Oshikiri wrote this song for his grandmother,

I guess I should show more respect for my ancestors. For me they're just a bunch of vague names and old pictures.

Sometimes when my mother and her sisters talk about my grandmother and some other people of the family that I don't know, I feel a lot of sadness. Or, melancholy. I still don't exactly know why.
My mother and her sisters saw my grandmother shortly before she died. If I remember well. My mother said that her mother was quite old and had troubles with her legs and feet. So, she bathed them and gave her a massage to relieve some of the pain. I can imagine how precious such a moment must have been for my mother since she had stopped living with her own mother at a young age, only seeing her during holidays and stuff... From what I understood.
I never ask my mother about that kind of things. I never talk about personal things with my mother anway... What I'm writing here is what I gathered with time during family gatherings (and we have A LOT of these)...
I know I suck at being a good daughter. This is the way am. I respect my family, but... I'm distant. It doesn't mean that I don't care. Just, I don't feel comfortable with the concept of family.

I don't know why emotions are so unbearable when I think about all this.

And because I spend all my spare time watching old episodes of The Cosby Show on youtube thanks to that Ghost and Vodka song... This track has a total comforting, witty-smile-on-the-face feel à la Bill Cosby. Don't you think? Every time I hear this track I want to click my fingers and watch The Cosby Show, can't help it.
Also I discovered that I'm a Denise Huxtable in disguise. Personality wise, of course. sssshhhh-it sucks.

bluebeard - room 501

2010-11-01T00:53:00.009+01:00

Oh well...
I thought I wouldn't write anything, let the music talk but huh. I'm a virtual chatterbox.

Bluebeard - room 501

Bluebeard split up years ago and then some of the members went on to form As Meias. I thought that As Meias split up as well since they didn't release anything new since 2007, but a few days ago I read that a new album will be out in December. I've rarely been that excited about a new release.You can hear some samples from the new album here.

I actually wanted to feature an As Meias song in this post. My two favorite songs are the ones displayed on their Myspace, Arouse and Instant!
Really, ever since I've discovered these songs, they've become official soundtracks of my life. It just clicked... violently, beautifully and with grace. Same goes for Bluebeard's Room 501.

Intricate melodies and rhythms that require a lot of attention from the listener during the first listens. They're not easy to understand at first, maybe a bit complicated, but once you understand them, each listen brings you brand new feelings, ideas, concepts: it makes you think. Well, at least it makes me think.
There is something close to a state of trance, repetitive notes put on an unconventional canvas, soothing and uncomfortable at the same time, a kind of perfect balance. I can listen to that kind of music on repeat, really.

I hope new songs will be as inspiring as these.

And now I should draw a parallel with recent British math-pop scene and American emo music from the nineties but wow, this little post would turn into a real essay. :)

Or maybe I can simply leave you with another band I'm patiently waiting for the new EP to come out, Tangled Hair:

****

I guess being true to your feelings when meeting new people is not a good solution. You may pass as a self-absorbed person, even if in reality you're not. First impression is important. It's not about lying. It's more like, making the other person know that they can feel comfortable in your presence. I still got a lot of things to learn, but slowly, I'll become more experienced and learn from my mistakes.

get a life

2010-10-29T14:32:00.000+02:00

Came back home a few hours ago, and only a few seconds ago in the middle of taking a long shower.
Just rushed out of the shower. Now there trying to lay my thoughts down.
The weeks go by and as much as I stay positive and all, I'm am not ok. It's getting out of control.
So, what should I do?
I'm ashamed to write this down. I'm ashamed of what I am turning into. I feel like I'm a loser. I'm a failure who can't deal with her own feelings, I have no control on myself anymore.
I am so ashamed.

Now what am I gonna wear, this is what I'm thinking about, as if my mind wasn't already fucked up, I look at the disgusting meat that is my body. Why can't I just move around naked, like this, like the physcial me. There are these stupid breasts that don't fit in anything anymore and it hurts. And that stupid body, so physical, so there that I have to carry everywhere as a burden, a proof of my failure. And that stupid skin that I have to cover, that does exactly the opposite of what it's supposed to do. And I fucking have to cover some part of it to pretend that it looks normal. And I'm tired of trying to cover these parts that are supposed to be beautiful. I would rather go out naked and say
"THIS, this is my body, this is me, I'm ugly and I don't deserve anything from anyone. Because I'm not worth it. My mind is not worth it. Even my body shouts it out loud, this is a visible and grotesque: I'm not worth it. I don't deserve to be there. They made a mistake! I was not even supposed to be there... Take me back, please.
Oh wait. Back to where?: there is no escape"
I don't know how it ended up this way. Everyday I try to forget and stay in this zone where my mind is ok and clear, but reality strikes back by surprise and god it hurts so much.

But still I have to put on these stupid clothes and that stupid make up. To make as if, you know. Even though I am already dead, at least I will try to look like a human being. Do I even exist? Isn't it already over? Has it even already started? Why do I doubt about such tangible facts? Where is my reason gone? It all looks and feels like a movie.

scary?!

2010-10-22T14:36:00.002+02:00

Well I hope not. I mean these were dark thoughts, for sure. This week has been plain weird anyway. October has been a weird month on so many levels anyway. Anyway!

New Born Ruffians EP, Plinky Plonk sounds ok so far...

From their first album (of course the interesting thing starts after the 1:10 mark. or something):

blur. not the band.

2010-10-21T11:23:00.002+02:00

I've thinking lately that, if tomorrow I die from something totally unpredictable and unstoppable like, let's say, cerebral haemorrhage or spontaneous combustion, it would be the same as if I had never lived. Because, my influence on this earth, people, familly, has been so few that I'll probably be forgotten when my parents and brothers will die. The rest of my familly doesn't know much about me either. I have no close friends. I have never done anything significant.

Then I started to think about a way of dying that would make my presence on earth even less noticeable. First, I would have to get rid of everything in my appartment, save up enough money so my parents won't have to pay anything concerning my lease, and pay in advance so it's done.
Then the thing that remains is my body. The best way to leave as few as possible behind you is to burn your body. It is not easy in our modern occidental society to find fire. If you put a fire in the forest, the only place that is a bit far from everything and where there are not much people around, it's great. But you have to think about all the trees, animals, living things around that will burn with you. So I still haven't figured out a cool way to burn oneself, where the fire would burn long enough for the body to disappear completely, the only remaining things would be the skeleton... Since bones don't burn.
Oh there are also chemical products that can burn your body. But I don't know if the result would be as clean as with fire.

Except in extreme cases, I don't think that people who want to die really want to die. They have the fantasy that death will help them to escape. In fact they don't escape from anything. They just die. This is not the same.

Of course I have no intention of dying. I've been simply thinking about such things lately. How much I lack substance and how that pane of glass between me and the world seem to grow thicker and thicker, more and more blur, and how even sounds don't seem to go through anymore, from me to them, from them to me.

We danced, shoes on shoes, to the sound of the spinning machine.

2010-10-16T01:07:00.003+02:00

Oh, Maps & Atlases' music. Oh, meeting Dave. Oh chatting with the sweet bassist I can't remember the name of... This is what art is about: making you feel things you would have never expected to feel.
You know. At the end of this fantastic concert, the band started an accoustic set. 3 songs. They brought chairs in the middle of the crowd, everyone was so close to each other. And they played. 2 first songs with the entire band, playing with their electric instruments not plugged, no mics, no nothing. I've always tought that tapping on an unnplugged electric guitar was only audible for the actual guitar player. But tonight I was proven wrong. Or that my own tapping has to be improved asap... The sound was incredibly loud, without any amp.
Then Dave grabbed his accoustic guitar and played The Ongoing Horrible.

He laid his guitar on his thighs, horizontaly. I had heard this song and seen this horizontal guitar stuff many times on Youtube already. And to be honest I've never been impressed by the video above...
But tonight, it was for real, in front of me. I was blown away. His voice was so powerful. It was out of this world. Unique. Beautiful. People often criticize his voice tone... On cd and when they play with loud instruments you can't mesure how good his singing technique is. The voice itterally propagated everywhere in the hall. It was magic, really.

Also I've learned so much about tapping tonight. Watching them play Every Place is a House or You And Me And The Mountain was amazing. I'll probably never be able to play like that, but, still, I could clearly see what both guitarists were doing with their fingers, and. Just. Guitar bliss..

I think, sincerly, I'm talking about music that strikes a chord inside of you. People capable of creating such music you personally relate to, you can literally feel, definitely have something special. Through your eyes at least. When you look at them you can clearly see something glowing and it's precious. I'm not talking about genius or such crap. It's just... an attitude, a way of behaving, that kind of things. And you're just glad to have touched such beauty for a moment. It is possible that these guys are total assholes in real life, but who cares. When they play music, they glow... What else can I ask for?

Oh! Forgot to say that they played Ted Zancha, my current favorite. Sigh!

let me slap that guy who invented tumblr.com

2010-10-13T16:41:00.002+02:00

Totally stressed out because of the painting contest deadline that is on Friday. Last week's events didn't help me having greater confidence in my work either. I'm really tempted to give up... We'll see.
Also on Friday is Maps & Atlases gig. I've been looking forward to this for months! So I keep telling myself: even if I don't manage to go through this contest thing, there'll still be the gig to cheer me up. Thinking about such little things generally help a lot.

When I was in high school, there was a guy in my *cough*posse*cough*. The kind of guy who always manages to have the best grades, very friendly with the teachers, who mostly has female friends, questionable fashion sense (= tracksuit all year long + huge glasses)(my own fashion sense wasn't better, though...), and an extremely extroverted, outgoing behaviour. Everybody knew he was gay.
When the girls at my school, let's say, the French equivalent of the American archetype of "the popular cheerleader" talked with him, there was always a point where his possible homosexuality was tackled. And the only answers he could give were either evasive or he would avoid the subject with humour. The girls really wanted to have a confirmation..But for us, members of the *cough*posse*cough*, it really didn't matter. Nobody ever questionned him about it. I mean, it was so obvious, it was a part of him, like the sky is blue and the grass is green, you see?
One day, after we graduated (it was the summer), we randomly bumped into each other and one thing leading to another, we spent the whole afternoon talking and walking around town. At first I found it really strange that he would spend that much time alone with me without the rest of the *cough*posse*cough*. But from what I remember, it was a nice afternoon.
Then he walked me home. We stopped in front of my house because I wanted to show him where I lived, and he told me "I have something to tell you". He seemed so serious and grave, as you can imagine, I have real issues concerning social skills and felt like 'Shit, why me? I won't react the right way! I suck! Don't fucking tell me! Just go find someone else!!!' etc, etc. But I didn't say anything out loud of course, and listened carefully to what he had to say.
"I'm gay"
...What? All that seriousness for THAT?! I thought he had cancer or something. Yes, I was disappointed and seriously wanted to laugh at him for this. Because I already knew for years, and I stupidly thought during all this time that he had already accepted it. Yes, it made me smile.
And then I realized the satisfied, relieved look on his face, and all the reality of it, that simple sentence: "I am gay", I thought to myself "wow. so he was totally serious. WOW!" And I didn't want to laugh anymore. At all.
I listened to everything he said to me, how his mother reacted when he told her, and all that it changed in his life, the fact that he had accepted it.
On that day, I felt really important. And even though I haven't seen him much after that, I'm really thankful he trusted me enough to confess such an important thing to me.

Ok now let's listen to some Maps & Atlases! It's so hard to choose only one song. Here is my current favourite. And if you're not convinced, please give them another try by browsing their myspace and bandcamp...

<a href="http://mapsatlases.bandcamp.com/track/ted-zancha">Ted Zancha by Maps & Atlases</a>

2010-10-07T17:42:00.001+02:00

I think that I wrote snickers instead of sneakers the other day. mmmhhhh. interesting. hahah

What happened on October 4th

2010-10-05T13:18:00.003+02:00

My art teacher took me to the train station, bought me a train ticket back to Paris because he didn't want me to be alone in my studio in Brussels.
I sat in the train and the tears started running again. Not the hysterical tears from a few hours ago, these were more like hygienic tears. The ones that run naturally, continuously, and all through the hour and a half I spent in the train, they didn't stop. I didn't think about sad things, or the events that happened earlier that day.
Curiously my head was clear as ever. Everything seemed... lighter.
I tried to enjoy the feeling of tears running down my face. This is a feeling I'm not familiar with. How strange how fast they dry, the dry trail they leave behind them! It had been year and years since I last cried like that, that much. Cry like waterfall, you see? People who cry often probably forget how liberating the act of crying is. It washes the soul. For real. So, even though I was crying, I felt happy inside, and enjoyed every moment of it.
I remember at one point I started carring about my make up. The one I had on my face was already ruined anyway, and I didn't really care.
Even though later in the night, when I started removing it in front of the bathroom mirror, I noticed that it had almost completely resisted. My face looked ok, despite of swollen eyes and runny eyeliner. I looked like a sofisticated grunge. So hardcore... looking grunge is cool I guess, so, yeah, I was quite satisfied with my reflection on the mirror.
What was I saying... mh. Well, that moment in the train when I realized that I didn't have my make up with me because my teacher refused to bring me home and gather some clothes before heading to train station ("once you'll be there, I think you won't have the courage to go back to your parent's place. And I can't let you there alone tonight", he said something like that. And he was right.) I never go out without fondation on my face. I have some visible imperfections on my skin, that are not THAT terrible honestly, but I feel better when people don't see them too much. And at that moment, still crying and all, it cracked me up how I started to mentally browse my mother's make up drawer and decide which product would fit my skin color better. My mom has a much darker skin color than me. When I realized it, it really made me laugh. Such a weird situation, right?

I could have stayed in the train forever. But finally we arrived, my tears stopped instantly as I walked through the train station, heading to the metro.

This morning, I woke up quite early and felt like running. I borrowed my brother a t-shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms, put on some old snickers from when I was in high school (probably?) and went out for a jog. There is a lot of humidity in the air today, almost about to rain, but it's not that cold. Well, refreshing enough for a jog.
I ran as fast as I could. Maybe, 20 minutes. there is a little wood behind our house, and also a lot of fields. And after, at the riding school they have a meadow where they let the horses graze.
I ran, trying to forget all that happened yesterday, running away from the dark, running faster to my life. I stopped only when I felt like I was about to shout. Nothing came out.

It's 1pm now. My train back to Brussels is at 3pm. I'm fucking ready.

paper bag

2010-09-28T03:03:00.002+02:00

I need to talk. So here is some random talk.

I'm totally wrapped in my own mental world. I've been trying to get in the right mood. Imagination is slowly working again. I want to paint explosions. With smoke and stylized fiery shapes. Well, this is my starting point. Finding a starting point is the most important thing (at least to me). Then you can develop the painting around it and most of the time the final painting is completely different from that first idea. It doesn't matter. What matters is having an atmosphere, a mood in mind and work around it.
Then, everything goes out of control and creation starts! That's where I'm at.

The image is taken from a documentary (in french) I saw a few weeks ago about Himote which literally means unpopular (esp. with the opposite sex) (that's what my Japanese/English translator said).
As you can see the guy was partially hiding from the camera with a paper bag on his head. Yes. And a few seconds later he put on a Haruhi Suzumiya cosplay and started dancing.
From what I gathered Himote is a group of people who refuse any relationships with the opposite sex for many reasons. They gather on internet community sites and meet each other once in a while to have... Otaku activities.
The rule is not to be involved in any love relationship. And if you reach the age of 30 and are still a virgin, then you receive some magical powers, but I'm not sure about that last part tbh.
I would say they are a hardcore form of Otaku.
I saw this guy with a brown paper bag hiding his face and thought "oh, I'd love to walk around like that!". And then I thought "Oh well, everyone knows each other where I live, so there's no way it'll bring me some anonymity. Oh fuck." That's what I thought, exactly.

There is an episode of Nip/Tuck where one of the two surgeons has an affair with one of his regular patients, and everytime they have sex he forces her to put a brown bag on her head, so he can't see her face. I think he does that because she disgusts him... Isn't it the most humiliating thing ever? Sexually talking. He denies the other person's humanity: she doesn't have a face, she's just a piece of anonymous disposable warm meat.
Oh wait, I can't remember whether he did it on purpose because the girl was a kind of masochist or if he really forced her...? I've never been a huge TV series fan anyway. I think that I randomly stumbled across this show, this scene, years ago. It is engraved in my memory forever.

That's what came back to my memory when I saw that Japanese guy with a brown bag on his head. And the fact is, even when he removes the paper bag from his head, when he's dressed as Haruhi Suzumiya later on the documentary and starts dancing, he still wears make-up. So we can see his face, but it's not his real face, his real identity. He is Haruhi Suzumiya.
(Also, notice that the bag is slightly decorated with green and blue check, which is a sign that he doesn't want to be totally anonymous, which denotes that he still wants to express something, like "I'm wearing a brown paper bag but it's different from any other paper bag: it's checked. It shows my individuality among all the paper bag wearers in the world. OR this paper bag comes from a store that decorates their paper bags with green and blue check, and I'm totally WRONG. )

Something else struck me:

There's that other guy, Ega-chan, who's like the chief of Himote (don't ask me why.) (if I remember correctly he built one of the most popular website dedicated to the Himote culture. Or something. I said: don't ask me why. But he's famous.)(oh irony)
So, basically, the guy puts a disposable picture of him holding an orange, and you can come and draw whatever you want on his face.
It's almost the opposite of paper-bag-man since there's no control over what people are going to do with his face. His face is just a piece of paper that happens to look like a face.

One of the recurrent reason why these people chose to become Himote is their lack of attractiveness. They say, "we're not ugly but we're not beautiful either. We're average. We're not rich so girls/guys don't want to hang out with us, and we live differently from the mass (Otaku way of life, if it really exists). We don't fit in."

Invisible people. People with no faces. And gather with other people like them gives them an identity. As a group or something. Such a strange concept. People are strange.

It's late. I don't remember what the conclusion had to be.

Here is a nice instrumental track:

The Mercury Program - Arrived/Departed.

2010-09-22T01:12:00.005+02:00

u_u.
Also, I just found a job for next winter.

luxury & nature morte

2010-09-20T03:09:00.008+02:00

Photo by Joel-Peter Witkin

Lately I've been thinking about good taste, bad taste, popular taste, personal taste, taste. Visual snobbery. Am I a visual snob?

I've been wondering how much my taste has been forged by years of Art stydies, and how my current disgust and general suspicion toward any form of visual expression is the result of all these stuffs I've been forced to learn (I know, nobody forced me to take this path to begin with...).
I actually decided to stop going to exhibitions, visiting galleries, read about art etc., etc. more than a year ago to protect myself from constant visual nausea.
I even wrote something about it here but I'm not ok with browsing through the archives of this blog and have a concrete realization of my inherent stupidity (who the hell am I talking to?!).

Oh

So it seems that my crave for visual excitment has been transferred to fashion. Yes. Fashion.
Even though I usually buy new clothes only once a year ===> this time of the year right after summer job when I have enough money to actually think about throwing it away on meaningless items our modern society tries to make out to be essential to our well being and social status. Appearance. Persona. Identity. Fake.

You should have a look at the beautiful Rodarte Spring/Summer 2011 collection.
Or not. But when I looked at the photograph by Joel-Peter Witkin posted above, it immediately reminded me of that collection.
All the gold, rich fabrics, warm colors. AND exagerated styling. This photography is a "tribute" to Manet's Olympia and I think that it totally ruins the intention of the original painting, probably on purpose. Still, I like this image that looks like the epitome of the word Luxury, physical pleasures, visual richness and at the same, this image is intellectually dead at first glance (the visual aspect is overpowering).
I wonder why I'm always attracted to such (apparently) corny stuffs.

Oh

Something I noticed concerning desire is that I don't have any desire anymore. I don't want anything.
I remember as a child I could dream of a new [random item] for months and months and it was my motivation to go trough everyday life.
As a teenager, I dreamed of being a famous artist and it was my motivation to constantly learn new things, read as many books as possible, see and listen to as many things as possible, work hard for my skills to be top-noth and get accepted in that oh-so-desired art school. And it worked.
And around the same time, be as good as possible in anything artistic/music-related to make the guy I loved fall in love with me. I've actually lived on this one for more than 6 years.

Here I am right now: a will-ing-less individual.
But the amazing thing about it is that now that my desire has no external, concrete object to strive for, I'm there with myself developping a very interesting form of narcissism.
Which won't lead to self-acceptance I fear.
More like childhood narcissism, complete, total fascination for your own body as a living machine and feeling machine as disappointing as it can be at times. It certainly has a lot to do with experimentations, discoveries AND awareness of the fact that in the end I (sadly) am not transparent.
I've had that weird experimentation going on a few weeks ago: everytime someone accidentally bump into me in the street or transportations, I like the idea that for a few seconds, a totally unusual physical connection has happened. None of us wanted it to happen but it did, and against our will. To me this is the ultimate moment of realization that we have a body. This is the ultimate unnexpected and unwanted moment, and the time for you to realize what just happened (damn, you just made a violent entry into somebody's world and so they did, that's something), the moment is gone. Do you realize?

Now it's time for me to remove my contact lenses.

done, done and done

2010-09-13T21:34:00.003+02:00

put the wooden frame together: done
canvas stretching: done. Rented a rather massive pin stapler at the art supplies shop so the sides of the canvas look clean.
priming (3 layers): bought an already primed canvas. Much more convenient.

Learned new English art vocabulary today. Makes me feel so professional right now. haha

With the electric guitar my old school friend "lent" me 6 years ago. Ibanez SA series. Before that I only played accoustic.
I remember the day I went to his place to pick it up, how we went together and bought a cheap second hand Squier amp and how awkward it felt walking around with my first ever electric guitar! Now I take it along with me everytime I come back home on vacation.

The mics are a bit capricious at times but overall it's in good shape.

The few close friends I've had/have are true gems, really.

the art of tears

2010-09-05T00:02:00.009+02:00

I am currently touched by...

I mean. I never thought that I would go back to that specific way of listening to music. The first time I listened to them it felt like something, the sound, was too close to me, reaching deep feelings I've always wanted to bury inside.
I kept calling them whiny and rejected them. Now, I still think that their lyrics are a bit too mhhh, you know those hypersensitive, overly romantic young guys, who Love with a big L and then Fall... and fall, and suffer. And then Love again. Or never Love again. And die.
They write beautiful poems and songs for that girl, that father, that mother they wish they could love the right way.
Reality is so different.
They suffer even more.
The kind of people you want to take in your arms and say "everything is gonna be ok".
And inside of me I wish someone took me in their arms and said "everything is gonna be ok". But I would never let them.
Because. I...

The Sorrows of Young Werther. Goethe. The only real emo book. May I call it 'proto-emo'?

I've read this book so many times. I could wallow in suffering with him. I fell in love with Charlotte just like he fell in love with her. I followed him. When it was dark and cold, when he kept trying, I kept whispering in his ears:
You're young and pure. I know what emotions are. Don't listen to them. But I kow you. I am you. I know you'll let them take hold of you. So, what can I do. Except watching you fall...

And he fell miserably. I fell with him. I wish I could have gone with him, too.
But. I...
But? These words are vain. We can only lie to others to "make them feel better". We all know this is a lie. The struggles of life will keep unfolding before our eyes no matter what.

Mineral - A Letter

You can laugh at this music, call it whiny, just like I did. But in the end. Look at yourself. You know you have these feelings inside of you, too. Somewhere. Also, someone suggested the word uplifting. I see now. In the end. I'm purified.

This is what this music reminds me.

2010-09-01T17:22:00.002+02:00

Sweet, sweet new song from one of my favourite band, Cowboys Aren't Indians.

Don't know if they'll ever have a real album out one day, don't think they even make some money out of their music, what their lives are like, what they do for a living.

Despite of it, I'm just glad they reunited and decided to keep creating such sweet music.

wedding

2010-08-29T17:12:00.002+02:00

#I liked myself yesterday#

My room at my parent's house. I still haven't removed the posters from the walls from when I was a teenager.

Paint trails, Andy Warhol, Matthew Barney and black stars.

first step in the world of

2010-08-27T16:20:00.016+02:00

My art teacher just sent me the documentation for an art contest. I want to try it. There is nothing to lose, right?
I'm gonna try.

I have one full month to create something.

****

I need to spend more time with human beings. I've come to think that Solitude is too much. In two month I haven't seen anybody else than my parents and two brothers.

I'm ok with it most of the time... Just there are moments where I suddenly crave for physical affection.
So, it's either I learn how to contain that pulsion, either I try to spend more time with people.

I know that if I'd stayed in Brussels it would have been even worse. I would've stayed at home 24/24 since I don't have any job, any money to go to the cinema/cultural activities/gigs.

On the other hand I would have gone further in that nice activity I started practicing in April: aimless past midnight walks in the city. I love it. At night I'm not afraid of people (supposedly) looking at me, there is no rule, I can just walk in pedestrian-less streets with the music on. I can't wait to do that again when I'm back.

In Brussels, except my classmates that I don't even see much during the school year, let alone the holidays... I enjoy their company, they enjoy mine. I'm not close to any of them, though.
Or that guy who ignores me most of the time. But since he probably is the only real life and school-free aquaintance I have I try to preserve it as much as I can. But if someone ignores you to that point... I mean, what can I do. It doesn't even hurt me. It simply comforts me in the fact that I'm not interesting as a communicating individual, and that I shouldn't persevere. In. Communicating.

Oh wait, I shouldn't say that. I should keep trying... So they say?
Solitude. One day I'll master you and we'll be one. I'm halfway. Just wait gently until I totally get rid of my fears.

Edit:
But.. but.. I can't help loving you all... What does that mean?
Even though I can't stand spending much time with people... I still have that infinite love for them. Everyone of them.
Even people who seem to hate me, I keep thinking: if only I could go there. Directly to the essence of everyone. I believe in this. I belive in the inner purity everyone has.
How can I hate anyone?

This is why I love you, in my own way.

And why I hate myself: I can't seem to find the purity in me.

<a href="http://sufjanstevens.bandcamp.com/track/djohariah">Djohariah by Sufjan Stevens</a>

****

I'm gonna focus on the contest. At least try that stuff... So much time in my hands... Who knows.

Also, I remember.
Two years ago, I was supposed to go to Japan with a girl I succeded to be moderately close to and one of her girl friend. She proposed it to me in December 2007. We were supposed to go in August 2008. I said "yes" without a hesitation... We started preparing for the travel and saving up money, my parents even said that they would financially help me. But then, several things happened and I had to cancel.
I think that I freaked out: being so close to someone, and the idea of going there with her. Don't know if you understand. I could have chosen to go. But I used the happenstances to cover my cowardice.
I don't even talk to this girl anymore since she left our school. Sometimes I meet friends of her at school and they tell me that she'd love to know how I'm doing and stuffs...
Don't know...

Hopefully

2010-08-14T13:39:00.004+02:00

Done catching up all the kanji I had to learn since May. I had to take a pause to prepare my painting examination. I started again as I came back in France in July.
Feeling extremely happy right now allso because I noticed that even though I couldn't review them during that time, the ones I already knew are still really stuck in my brain, I didn't forget anything.
Learning kanji is so satisfying as you can continually see that you're progressing day after day.

Still have A LOT of new ones to learn 'till school starts again in October. Here we go.

Probably found a job. Hopefully they'll let me know on monday... Fingers crossed.

conlusion

2010-08-13T21:50:00.010+02:00

So my job is to create good looking objects for people to feel something when they look at them. Conveying positive emotions is better because people are more likely to buy something that'll make them feel good and forget about tasteless everyday life. Which doesn't mean that these objects must be meaningless. Creating visually convincing (does not equal beautiful, beauty is a whole different matter) yet questioning (=that make you think) objects is the best.

This is a sticker. sticky?

If I ever go to New York...

2010-08-11T05:30:00.007+02:00

I've been thinking about last April when I went and saw Mouse On The Keys in Duisburg, Germany. It felt great. I listened to Meet Me in St. Louis' Variation on Swing on repeat.
Come to New York, There Were Fewer Murders last Year. This song.
I remember before the show, wandering around the town with the music in my ears. This is probably one of the best souvenirs of these last 5 years. It was so cold and dark. But it felt good the whole time.

I can't describe the feeling of freedom this whole trip had.

When I went to London in October to see Tubelord, I also listened to MMISL on repeat. Unpleasant city at first sight. I remember wearing brand new blue heels, every step was painful. With my short grey skirt, I was definitely looking like a slut or or an easy girl or something and decided to stop at Topshop to buy a pair of black skinny jeans. I remember perfectly.
The show itself, all the beer I drank 'cause there were so many people around me. I had to pretend.
Tubelord's music that made it all fade away... Another great souvenir. Even though my feet hurt and I didn't feel comfortable. Now this is a great souvenir.
This is what this song means to me.
This is why I can listen to this song all day long and be surrounded by the same fantastic emotions inviding me each time. The second half of the song. The ending. I swear that one day I'll be loved to this music.

I don't go out very much, I'm afraid of the crowd. I'm actually afraid of everyone.
But achieving to go to these two places are the most important things I've done in a long time. Saving up the money, organizing, etc... I often give up on non-immediate project because I always think that I'll screw up everything in the end.
I 'm kinda proud of myself. Remembering all those things gives me strenght.
This music gives me strenght.

I can summerize my life in a few words: a perpetual attempt to have no physical or visible effect in other peoples' lives. I've reached that very point where I am significant to nobody.
And now.

Portfolio

2010-08-04T02:14:00.003+02:00

so english speakers don't say "book", they say "portfolio". I've learned something new. I'm happy.

this day next year?

2010-07-27T00:15:00.005+02:00

Karate - This day next year

This originally is a 11mn track cut down to 7mn here. The part from 1:53mn to the end is so delicate, I have no words for this. Such a perfect ending. so soft. so delicate. I want to share this comforting feeling with everyone.

there is no title

2010-07-26T00:50:00.018+02:00

What's up with the sky tonight? Some dark and magical things are about to happen. My parents come from the land of Voodoo (I always hear it spelt Vodoun) after all, who knows. When I was around 16 I thought that I worked for the devil. No joke.

Edit:

I suffer from poor sleep. It is 2:30 am, I've barely slept for an hour or so, and just woke up. Now I won't be able to sleep again before 4-5 am and finally wake up at 9am. Then I'm gonna crash for 30 mn at some point in the afternoon, if I'm at home that is, otherwise I'll feel very sleepy for the rest of the day. This is my daily sleep review for the last two weeks.
I don't feel particularly depressed lately: most of my depressive thoughts magically stopped as I stopped taking food sweeteners (aspartame). I was literally addicted to that stuff to the point that the first two weeks without it have been a real struggle. I had no idea how bad it was for my body and brain. I started consuming aspartame three years ago, and everything went downhill from there. As a bipolar since teenage (I think?) that stuff obviously incrased the symptoms; these last months I've been in a constant state of fear and anxiety, dramatic demotivation, incapacity to take even the most simple decisions in my daily life, and yeah, overall, stuck in a real big mental mess. I feel like I've lost three years of my life which saddens me a bit.

Now that it's over, I'm on holidays. I "workout" every morning (either home bike or go for a jog for an hour), feel quite good with my body so I don't really care about poor sleep.

The only weird thing is that at night you tend to think differently or think too much. Tonight, looking at this surreal moon, I've been thinking about witchery.

That sky reminded me of the movie Antechrist by Lars von Trier. The second half of the movie when the night starts to fall, when the girl goes completely nuts and does all those instinctive things, those things society and education teach you how to refrain from doing. She hurts herself and she hurts the one she loves, she does those things because nothing is there to stop her except death. She is in the middle of nowhere, in wild nature and it feels like even her body, after rejecting nature by fear, chooses to embrace it and live according to its own rules. The scene where her body slowly fades in the grass is so evocative.

I was thinking about feminine instincts, alienation, evil, fear of the body, fear of the outside world, fear of your inner self.
That's why I mentionned Vaudoun earlier. I don't know much about it. My parents are from Benin. My father is part time Muslim and my mother is somewhere between part time Christian and Muslim. This is not serious stuff, just that they've been raised in this cultural environment. They've never imposed anything to my brothers and I, they both are extremely open and such.

But the only thing that everybody fears and respect is Vaudoun. Even the most non religious people in my familly believe in it. Even though most of the time everyone joke about it etc... Inside of them they fuckin' know it's there and it has to be taken seriously. This is not really a belief it's more something that is natural, you know it exists and you have to fear it and get away from people who master it. I can't really explain it clearly or find a good comparison. It's just... there.

Since I'm a child I've always linked Vaudoun to women, hence my teenage obsession about me being a witch possessed by spirits and ruled by them. Add to that a total fear and denial of my body, a strong attraction for Gothic culture and the cult of evil: it gives you a very perturbed young lady.

Why women?

-My mother is from the south of the country where the Fon and Yoruba live and where Vodoun is extremely strong, people from these ethnicities are the ones who master Vaudoun the most. These are mostly the people who went to Haiti, Caribbean and America during the slave trade as well as Nigerians (there is a hugeYoruba population in Nigeria too). Those slaves created a different form of Vodoun, spelt Vaudou or Voodoo in this case, that is so "popular" nowadays.

-My mother's step mother (who is a complete psycho IMHO) is a kind of... witch. Ok I feel very stupid writing this, but that's the way it is, and I can't put this differently. Let's say that she knows a bunch of things about how to harm other people. I won't go further.
Since I'm a child my mother, who's been kinda abused by her, has always teached me that I should constantly remain on my guards when she's around: she could slip something into my food or drinks, touch me a certain way, say certain things etc... I haven't seen her much in my life as she doesn't live in Europe. But still. Even greeting her has always been extremely threatening to me.
I remember one summer, I was like 8 year old, her and my grandfather came for a month in France and stayed at our home.
When they left, we discovered that Psycho Grandma left some objects everywhere in the house: tiny coins with weird drawings slipped into every door's locks, weird little objects under the furnitures, etc... It was freaking scary to say the least. I don't know if all her harmful shit worked out in the end but my mother decided that she would never sleep in our house again.
Yes it was scary.
And extremely fascinating at the same time.
Being conscious that some people know about such occult things in real life... It's like being in a living Harry Potter if you see what I mean.

Wow I've been too far. This was one serious rant it seems. Oh well. Maybe I'll continue later as new ideas/souvenirs cross my mind.

Edit 2 27/06:

I can't say that I believe in all those magical things, spirits and everything related to that. I don't believe in anything, to be honest and I'm quite sure that paranormal events will be solved by science one day.
But I do believe in hatred. Hatred can lead you to do terrible things such as killing people and use religion, beliefs as an excuse.
Nobody dies from natural cause in Africa. It's always someone who wanted their death or something of that kind. That's what people say. Even if the person was 112 years old and already half dead for years. Death is never natural. I find it quite funny...

I'm done with this topic. Fizzle out~

this is not about photography skills at all (obviously), but

2010-07-25T23:42:00.014+02:00

At my parents' house this evening, the view from my room. Here is the soundtrack to this.

<a href="http://longitude.bandcamp.com/track/cut-and-run">Cut And Run by longitude</a>

And a brand new virtual crush to top it all.

open

2010-07-24T16:25:00.005+02:00

Last month I decided to delete all the posts related to music creation. I suddenly felt extremely ashamed of them. It happens from time to time. After reflection I think that this is creation after all, and even though I've never had enough courage to finish my songs at least I have tried to create something, so... you should never be ashamed of what you create, no matter how lame it is from your personal standards or external criteria.
I've been thinking lately that I always go away from people who know me too well. At some point, I just can't stand that degree of intimacy and try to erase facts as well as people related to these facts.
I feel this way about music.

Anyway... I still have 2, 3 other tracks I posted on this blog that still need to be uploaded.

mothschompmyclothes

I hope I'll be able to record some new songs sometime, finish what I have started and get better at making music.

I also re uploaded my old book.

mothschompmyclothessongsforwolvesatfullmoonthecastofcheersftw

2010-07-14T21:29:00.023+02:00

-It's an empty page for now. I want to make covers. And I'll probably relocate most of the old musical stuff I posted here on there.

-Check out my friend's Bandcamp, Songs for Wolves at Full Moon. He makes some nice instrumental/ambient music, hadn't heard this track before, pleasantly pleased:

<a href="http://songsforwolvesatfullmoon.bandcamp.com/track/here-come-the-whales-with-peter-helmis-of-algernon-cadwallader">Here come the whales (with Peter Helmis of Algernon Cadwallader) by Songs For Wolves At Full Moon</a>

Kinda late on that one but please check it out!

-Check out the awesome Irish band The Cast of Cheers' Bandcamp too. And download their amazing, bouncing, exciting album. This is some seriously addictive robot party rock music. I mean it. Totally. Download it. And it's totally free.

<a href="http://thecastofcheers.bandcamp.com/track/autoshottie">Autoshottie by The Cast of Cheers</a>

Bandcamp player looks so damn good.

Luxirare

2010-07-09T03:28:00.020+02:00

credit: luxirare.com

So, I spent most of my day admiring Luxirare blog.
The wonders of holidays! Spare time, lots of it.(= haven't found any summer job. Yet. My usual working place totally screwed me this year. Bastards.)

The individual who owns this blog is a twenty something girl with incredible skills in... about... everything? There is no word to describe what she does exactly: design, photography, clothing, spectacular cooking, everything exudes creativity.

This inspired me a lot.
I notice that even though some people crticize the fact that she is ridiculously whealthy and her somewhat unethical choices, nobody ever denies her creativity, always perfect presentations, striking ideas, etc. Her work itself is so solid. How can you criticize this?
There definitely are some things I don't relate to or find unappealing. however, everything is so perfectly exectuted that any form of judgement remains personal taste.

One the commenters pointed out that finally, this woman is not a "design genius" or anything of that kind as a lot of people say. The point is that what we see everyday on the Internet, in the street, everywhere, what the society as a whole has to offer visually, don't live up to what Luxirare is doing. Not because there's something special about her but because she diplays her ideas perfectly: she knows what she's doing, how and what she wants to convey, has mad technical skills as well as solid theorical knowledge that is constently upgraded as a new idea pops up in her head. She doesn't know how to create something? That's ok, she obviously knows that any technic can be learned.
The most amazing fact is that if you take a look at her archives and the entries from the beginning of the blog you realize that there definitely is something unique since the beginning but you can sense how much she slowly perfected her approach with time.

I especially remember an entry where Luxirare decides to make her own shoes from start to finish and has to learn everything from scratch, she fails, tries again, learns even more... and she ends up with her own homemade shoes.
In other words: she works her ass off.

The truth is that everyone with the slightest ideas or concepts is able to create their own personal original world like she does. But how many put that much dedication in it? What does it take to be that determined?

This applies to everything in life, not only creation... What are you waiting from life? Do you choose to go with the flow? Do you just go wherever it leads you? Or do you want to get as much as you can from it? Do you try to model it, make it live up to your expectations?
I'm not being judgemental. Either way has its props and conts. As long as you don't feel like your presence on this planet is useless (and have a problem with it.)

Self confidence,determination, self confidence, again. Vision.
Gigantic appetite for life? Does that even exist.
I wonder.

the super duper youtube entry

2010-07-03T17:59:00.019+02:00

I post this because I seem to whine a lot in here. Ok, ok, I'm not the most cheerful person on earth to be honest. But when I feel good, I often think about this song and the first verse of their other song Tomodachi wa doko da ! SEBASTIAN X. I wonder if these guys are like that all the time. Drug-induced or 100% natural? I mean, seriously. There's too much joy in there.
Haha just noticed that the video for Image Game by Lite appears with the featured videos at the end. You better listen to it too! Their sound is just the opposite of SEBASTIAN X but hey, good music is good music.

edit: OH I have to post this one too...

edit2: Since we're at it... Joy, fun, etc... How can I forget to mention THE BEST BAND EVER CREATED ???

モーモールルギャバン !

(Mow Mow LuLu Gyaban)

BODYWILD!!!

My current favorite (it changes all the time):

On another note. I wonder what I should do with this blog. I came to the conclusion that I'm not really a blog person. Everytime I want to write about everyday life... I just don't see the point writing about my personal life. I don't feel comfortable when I show my work either. And finally, I don't think that I'm particularly good at talking about music. That's why this place has turned into an outlet for my negative toughts and doubts exclusively.
I hope I'll find an interesting way to fill this empty space during the summer. :)

Dull

2010-06-26T03:15:00.014+02:00

Close your eyes...

Am I the only one feeling like things are coming to an end?
I've been thinking that this feeling is the result of my incapacity to project myself in the near future. In the future.
Isn't it a general feeling? Things are dull. I don't know much about modern culture, TV shows, Internet memes... What people are interested in. I 've tried to immerse myself in several things this week. It's called culture. It all seems dull. The past, the present.
Nobody fantasizes about a possible future anymore.
Then I notice that my bras don't fit anymore... Even though I haven't gained weight. Hormonal stuff? Is that so? I have a body, too...?

2010-06-18T21:19:00.003+02:00

I made it. My teachers do love me. I can't express how thankful I am. And how relieved I am. Now, sleep, sleep, sleep, collective sushi making class supervised by Japanese classmate, and more sleep. Anxiety and stress haven't gone away but I'm gonna try my best to enjoy every minute of rest.
Ah, looking forward to 1st July, too!

2010-06-16T23:24:00.005+02:00

I need to talk. I think that I'm scared. At these moments you need something rational, tangible and real to calm you down and make you realize that you are wrong, that nothing has changed. That your mind is making it up. So I keep telling myself that it's gonna be ok. Is it gonna be ok? probably? At these moment you make the worst choices because your sensations take hold of everything. You think you're doing good. I keep telling myself that tomorrow night it'll be over. Will I succeed? will I fail? I can't fail. This is scary.
Tomorrow, same hour, how will I feel? I can't let things go worse than they already are. I don't want to lose, again. I wish there was a God somewhere. I wish I had someone. But, no. Everything is empty. I know it.

But what hurts the most is to know that I'm trying my best, and that the more I try, the more it hurts. The work is done in the end, but the hole it leaves inside of me doesn't stop growing. Why do I keep doing this if it hurts me so much?
I try to breathe and it keeps hurting. I close my eyes, it hurts. My mind can't escape. I'm bound to it. This is my life, I chose to embrace it. Now, I have no other choice than deal with it. And I still have no idea how I ended up here. How the hell did I end up there?

emo alert

2010-06-13T01:25:00.010+02:00

Disclaimer: I know this is not a worm......

Just got home and feel unsatisfied.
So much work needs to be done for next week... No time to lose... And I've lost it after all, I've lost this precious day. I will never achieve anything, socially talking, school talking, life talking. I'm definitely empty and I tend to forget it way too often.
Work is the only issue.
Let's cheer up and work. Even if my work is useless. ~~I know it won't fill my emptiness.~~
We all use the same words, how stupid is it? I don't even have enough vocabulary. I'm not even confident about my grammar. You just don't know what I'm talking about. I just don't know what you're talking about. So sad. I'm tired being a teenager. When is the next stage starting?
kick your ass and work you stupid...
yes, I'm gonna do that.

[typical hippie rant that needed to be deleted]

Japanese emo is a worm slowly devouring my brain.

attention whore

2010-06-01T17:32:00.007+02:00

First, please listen to the epic-est song of 2010 so far. Probably not the best. But the most epic, for sure.

The song The Theatre Goer is also worth a listen!

yes the mirror was kinda dirty on that day, but. This is probably the only pic of me I can stand, so... let's deal with it:

THE HIT!!

Thanatos

2010-05-25T18:16:00.006+02:00

"Tu ne vaux rien, ça c'est bien vrai, dit Yazaki en souriant. Moi non plus, personne ne vaut rien, tout le monde est remplaçable, personne ne peut rien pour personne, et si on croit pouvoir prendre cela comme point de départ, on n'ira nulle part, il n'y a rien de plus mesquin que de se fixer pour but de valoir un jour quelque chose pour quelqu'un, sans compter que c'est inutile, il n'existe personne qui puisse se dire nécessaire à quelqu'un d'autre." Puis il ajouta pour terminer:

"Et c'est pour cela que nous sommes libres"

Murakami Ryû, Thanatos.

It's so hot these days. It feels like summer is here. Heat is my ennemy. Can't wait for it to end.

I wake up, work all day long, go outside and buy some food twice a week or so, always the same food, (if only they invented those pills that contain everything your body needs to survive), sometimes I go out for a walk at night. And that's it. That's my current routine.

2010-05-16T12:44:00.006+02:00

This is how it looks like on tracing paper. The white parts are transparent. Then I have to transfer the drawing on a canvas and paint. I already have several characters: this "unidentified entity watching from the sky", a weird dead cat extremely detailed, and a few other people I don't already know where to place.
This technic is cool because I don't draw directly on the canvas, I can still move every parts of the composition until I think it looks good and then process to the final drawing (=transfer).
I'm really excited with this technic. That's how I processed for the two previous little paintings I posted here. It offers me so much more details... This is gonna be my first time using it on a "big" painting! I think the canvas is almost as big as me. We'll see. The in between stage looks really promising to me.

2010-05-12T00:33:00.006+02:00

Something I'm working on these days. It's supposed to be an undefined entity watching from the sky. Watching what?

And a little incursion in the new Malegoat. Pure greatness... Don't you remember?:

And a cool video I watched on Youtube. I think it sums it up very well:

Reality check

2010-04-30T12:44:00.009+02:00

See? The previous text is a perfect illustration of how fucked up my peception of life/human interaction is: it's either flowers falling from the sky or horrible, despair, death.

The fact is, any human being spend a good time of their life in an in between, neutral mood. You don't punch the face of that guy you hate, you don't kiss the first person you meet that you find pretty. Because you learn as you grow up that you have to master yourself to keep it neutral, safe for you and the others around you (if you tear them out of their own comfort zone, they'll trouble yours in return).
Life can't be an ongoing emotional rollecoaster, that would be unbearable.

My social interactions are so few that any interesting encounter is magnified. The moment itself doesn't seem to matter, it's how I'm gonna fantasize about it, again and again, exagerate this insignifiant detail, that meaningless word...

I make up the thoughts of the person I'm talking to and then inject them in their behaviour, attitude, conversation.
I'm conscious of it. And only seem to realize how far my imagination has gone only days after.
I don't know how to keep it (emotions) safe.

Where are the fucking violins.

Now please listen to that shit (haha is shit the right word? I better stop trying to use slang...)

"let's play math folk!"

2010-04-23T12:16:00.003+02:00

After I see him enter the room, and try to pretend that I haven't seen him. After he comes to me and we both are shy. He said earlier to my friend that he totally remembers me from the London gig. After a random guy interupts our so-called conversation, after I walk away and go say hi to the drummer at the merch table and we randomly chat about their first mini tour out of UK.
After the opening act plays and I order something to drink and notice that he's standing on my right. After I ask him what the heck he's doing and he says "I'm just drawing... hey, draw something too!", after he leaves me all his pens and notebooks and with my funky friend, try to draw something fun while they check their instruments. After the music starts.

.....

After the music ends, after they've packed all their intruments and stuff, and they talk with people at the merch table, after I try to draw again since I'm even more wasted and want to understand the meaning of his words, his drawings, there, in his notebook in my hands, after I make some efforts to socialize with people around me, after I collapse...
after he finally comes to me again, introduces the new synth player to me and we start joking about their embarassing previous bassist, his annoying make-up and weird "sparkly clothes", after we enter the bar, sit and draw again and write and talk and talk and talk.... and laugh and laugh and laugh...

I'm incredibly good, everything is easy for hours.

And after, at the end of the night, when I remember it takes 45mn to walk back home and that it might even take a little longer because my head hurts and I'm not feeling that good anymore, after I grab my jacket and remember:

me : ... I need a souvenir.
him: but you've already drawn me two souvenirs!
me: yeah I know. I need something from you.

And after his face lights up as he grabs his backpack and starts browsing furiously all his papers, drawings, notes, and it takes him like 5 long minutes... And after he finally finds something interesting:

him: ok, these are the lyrics of our new song... This is not the final version, but I think you'll recognize most of it when you'll hear the song! It'll be released in August...

After he hands me the piece of paper and I instantly recognize his curious tiny square writing and I'm all moved inside. And can only articulate a few "wow"s and "thank you so much"s, I look at his smiling, satisfied face and look at the paper and look at his face and more "wow"s and "thank you"s.

After I wonder If I should stay with them and sleep at my friend's place since they suggested it to me, instead of walking back home alone. it's late.

After I think that sleeping at somebody's place is something I can't do.

After I stand up and try to make it seem less painful by saying my goodbyes super fast and want to run away....

He suddenly stands up too.
And takes me in his arms.

Taken by surprise, the unexpected sensation of being so close to him when a second ago I couldn't even imagine such a thing to happen, and realize that I probably should put my arms around him too... And... The warmth. That feeling so warm and limpid, and sincere.

"that's odd... I never take people in my arms" I say.

And after I'm about to let my emotions take hold of me again, and I'm left all dizzy as the embrace ends, and the cold rememberence his body has left on mine, and saying something, and awkwardly hit that stupid glass on the table, and I don't know what I should say, how I should act to hide the fact that I'm feeling awkward and, finally. Go.

And after all that.

Walking in the night and ask myself why I always crush on the wrong person.

2010-04-14T09:56:00.010+02:00

Acrylic on canvas

~12x12cm

2010

2010-04-13T15:04:00.010+02:00

Acrylic on canvas
~12x12 cm
2010

The colors are more faded in real.

the band apart - flower tone

2010-04-10T12:16:00.009+02:00

I think this song (and the whole surface ep it is taken from) is a musical definition of joy.
This is true joy to me.
And from what I understand, the lyrics are really meaningful too.

edit: OH and there's also a PV for free fall! I could have written the same thing about this song.

Makes me want to update my guitar skills asap! Lately I've been playing a lot of piano, but to be honest guitar is a lot more fun. Gotta find some band apart tabs. :)

2010-03-26T10:40:00.000+01:00

2010-03-10T00:26:00.007+01:00

I have an idea. I think it's slowly coming back to me. *crosses fingers*
By the girl who's supposed to be a painter but has no paintings to show... all is so fucked up right now... I feel like my life is so messed up... This is not normal. What am I supposed to do? Except keeping working on it? I'm so tired of it all... What should I start with... Sometimes I take my pencil and try to face it no matter what, but in the end nothing come out... It hurts so much, not being able to do what used to be so natural... I swear I'm trying hard, everyday I sit there and try to make it happen. But nothing comes out... Nobody's gonna help me because that's so personal.... I have to find my own solutions all by myself... So fucking hard... I won't give up, I know I can't do that, but still... sometimes it feels like I'm doing everything wrong in purpose. I know this is not true, but what am I supposed to think then? It just takes so long and I'm so fucking tired... I want to get out of here and never look back at that shitty period. I want to go through and forget... I want to hear that everything is gonna be ok.. But there's nobody to tell me that. Nobody I could trust.
~~It's my own hands, my own will... This is so fucking hard.~~

I'm better than that. :)

2010-03-09T18:17:00.002+01:00

What I've learned from that 2.0 thing:

- I'm ashamed of my voice so I add layers and layers of effects and choirs that I can't master anyway.
- I should try to act more natural.
- Piano + voice in one take would be more effective. So I definitely have to work more on my piano skills to make it sound lively and entertaining in one take.
- ~~I should make soul music.~~

Bygones - by-

2010-03-02T05:27:00.016+01:00

I'm late... One of the best album of 2009 that I've heard in 2010.

Discovered this because they just had a new album out a few days ago that doesn't sound like by- at all btw, but still quite refreshing. I checked out my files and found this. And it blowned me away. My Lastfm said that I had already heard this album two times... what.the.fuck. I was probably deaf
Quirky, unexpected, intense.

Their myspace has both new songs (punk! very surprising) and a bunch of older ones from by-.
Nu Cringe, Full Evolved as well as Up the Shakes are genius. Ok genius is a little exagerated, but, heh, that's really really good math-rock/weirdo music.

I also have to say that this duo is composed of guys from Hella and Tera Melos. Quality. though I'm not a huge Hella fan...

AND the cover is really good looking. I wish they made wavy fries like that where I live.

2010-02-24T16:26:00.012+01:00

I feel the urge of doing something... I have to throw it out. It has grown inside of me since so long, I gave it some time to grow and develop, tried to protect it as well as I could... And finally want to see what it looks like... That thing growing inside of me. Will it disappoint me?

Also it clearly seems that I'm falling in love. Infatuation? Probably. But it's been a long time since I've felt something. That's why, even if the feeling only lasts a few weeks? a few days? or fades away by the end of tonight? I'm gonna let it invide me without asking any questions. Because, It feels so good.

Putting down all this, I wish it'll give me the strenght to achieve my goal, and create something sincere, good... Or simply, create something... I would like to find a nice word to end up this sentence... oh, maybe I don't already know this word...

Edit: Hours later. I wonder. Have I turned into a hippie??? That sucks.
Edit 2: LIKE, REALLY??? THAT SUCKS.
Edit 3: ARGGHHHHNNNWTF !?
Edit 4: Seems like it's over, after all. twas nice.

Z - Mikabe

2010-02-21T22:41:00.008+01:00

Sometimes you see an album cover and you know the music will be great. Z - Mikabe. Brilliant.
I don't find their myspace page accurate at all.