Journal of a dwarf
20 02 2011 Tesco Syrup Steamed Pudding
These small puddings can be micro-waved or oven heated, and so I chose micro-waving to save time. They are supposedly individually packaged (in small tubs with foil lids), however I personally found that there is plenty enough for two in each tub.
Once the foil lid was removed, heating was quick and only took 60 seconds. On taking the pudding out of the microwave, there was a good smell, similar to Lyons Golden Syrup, to behold.
Turning the pudding up-side-down in a dish, I found that it slid out quite easily and cut it in half with a knife; distributing it into two equal portions, and serving with Birds Eye custard, in the traditional way.
The taste was good, reminding me of everybody's favourite school-dinner pud. Indeed, this desert left me fully satisfied and was really much better than I expected. There was no bad aftertaste or side effects, either. So if you are looking for a little sweet thing to finish your meal with, you may well find, as I did, that this pudding will do the job. 8/10
Life of FH Punchy
His in-breading caused facial bleeding,
But his hands on healing gave his life a meaning.
At night he's on the streets, dealing,
But when he drinks tea, he prefers Darjeeling.
also likes Ketchup and he likes a fry-up,
At school he ate like a dog.
I was amazed at the size of his head,
And even at the size of his gob.
But in the end he was quite well meaning,
And even had an endearing childlike leaning.
At playtimes, sometimes, I'd throw him a crunchy,
To which he replayed, "A-right Punchy?"
Now in his beer he sees little angels,
Dancing on cardboard and paper tables.
He was the product of a mighty evil God,
Now he lives with his mum, all alone, on his tod.
also had a flat back of head,
Which led to big issues, like getting comfy in bed?
He said "On my back,
It feels like it'll crack,
Yet on my side,
It's painfully wide,
And so in my mind, the answer is clear,
I'll sit up all night and drink lots of beer!"
his head was a tangled mess of wires,
Making it hard to express needs and desires.
But he wanted to travel to far distant places,
And gaze upon strange and exotic faces.
He decided that Saturday would be the day,
To finally step outside and get-away.
He put on his very best trousers and shoes,
And joined the mysterious bus stop queues.
The words in his mind were clear and right;
"A single to Halifax - I wont be back tonight"
But when he stepped on the bus and held out his fair,
He just opened his mouth and breathed in the air,
"Sss, ssi,ssing...." he said, but the words would not come,
The bus driver shouted "come on, spit it out son!"
"Hhhh, hhhh, hhh" he blabbered, blubbered and spluttered,
"Huddersfield per chance?", the bus driver muttered.
And so he stamped out a return to the town,
Punchy would be back home before sundown.
had always been quiet short,
But there were ways round that, so he thought.
He kept some hens in dirty pens,
Which he'd visit every morning,
When hunger crescends.
But only egg diets have strong consequences
Such as, gas that would make you take leave of your senses.
"Enough is enough" his mother finally cried,
"We've had them poached, boiled, scrambled and fried.
There must surly be another way
Come on Punchy - what do you say?
"Will you go out side and have a good think
At least that way only half the house will stink!"
And So he retired into his shed,
With mothers stern words pounding his head.
"Fruit and veg would be fantastic "
"I know - I'll make a greenhouse, from plastic!"
intervals between being fed,
He scratched his skin until it bled.
His dad was a Nazi, his mother was Red,
They played role reversal, at night in bed.
He couldn't stop winking and looking at his hands.
He was obsessed by close up pictures of fangs.
He was convinced the police, observed his behaviour,
His only possible hope; a canine saviour.
But a vicious circle he was in,
Dogs knew what he wanted, he just couldn't win.
his apparent stupidity is a mere façade.
He acts like he's soft but is really quite hard.
He pretends to be sterile, but he's quite avant-garde
He pretends to be unemployed, but he's got an equity card.
Now he's acting undercover, to detect his aunt's lover.
He's got his eye on Brian Glover, but actually it's his mother.
off-cuts from the Whiteberg Lyric Factory
Call to Alms
He has become very egocentric and quite egotistic,
And also disturbingly, somewhat materialistic.
Self sufficient in all social traits,
Finding ways to do things without any mates.
It seems 'He cant get no...,' social interaction,
Without there being some money transaction.
A chat at the checkout, a word at the bank,
He's looking for freindship, they are just staring blank.
And so it seems he is at his demise.
Hiding a humdrum existence with fantastic lies.
An aristocrat in a Rock 'n' Roll band,
With no other fellows to lend him a hand.
At the end of the day, we guess hes an artist,
Even so, his career choices were not of the smartest.
Coming from his background, he had to be a bread head,
A materialistic ego refusing to be Art lead.
Thus he restricted his creative potential,
And removed any possibility of being influential.
If only he'd trusted his artistic bent,
Instead of just thinking about paying the rent.
The world could have experienced an artist supreme,
The Full realisation of Peter Ludlums Yorkshire Cream.
Yet we say unto him, all is not lost,
He has a few years left to deliver his riposte.
With an artistic thrust to the heart of a bore,
Selling his soul like a working class whore.
Stand up and fight, you miserable little man,
How dare you flush creativity down your stinky pan.
We're finished with you, its over, a new era is about to burst,
Watch out; Emin, Gormley, and Hurst.
People! we announce the dawn of a new time,
Get ready for Art; complete and sublime.
Credit Crunch Lunch; Part One
He is buying up sub-prime mortgages,
To offset his commodity shortages.
He's got seven-hundred billion in his back pocket,
Now he's going to buy a Love Bomb Rocket.
As he Contemplates His Nails
A villain, such as he, has no need for mates.
For centuries not a soul has passed through his gates,
Cos, mates suck, init; it is only enemies he requires
And of course the odd orderly that sometimes he hires.
He ponders; do the nails belong to the fingers?
Does the hair belong to the head?
Or do they belong to their respective roots,
Since the rest of them is dead?
Should we move toward the source,
Or are we already there?
Are we in a good home,
Or in Beelzebub's lair?
The Count is in his Castle,
He has locked himself away,
And he will not see another soul,
Until the warmth of May.
The wolves howl sorrow in the mountains,
The wind whistles misery through the hall.
The lights introduce death into the fountain,
As Summer fades disturbingly into Fall.
College vs. Office
When we were at college and school,
Friends were handed to us on a plate.
But at the office we find no kindred spirits,
It seems that real rebels do not suffer such a fate.
At the office we are seen as outsiders,
Yet among alternative crowds we are seen as providers.
We exist as ghosts, between two planes,
Sell outs in one and in the other bad brains.
Sat in the sun in October,
But the days are getting shorter.
Not much time left to top up your tan,
Not much time left to find a woman.
Not much time left in your life,
Not much time left for trouble and strife.
You are, after all, in the Autumn of your years,
And still yet to find, someone who cares.
You see lots of handsome girls around the block,
On the train and in the office; all fit for a cock.
But to them you are just a dirty old man,
Still out to get whatever you can.
Your movie is over, you have an industry wide ban,
And you'll just have to settle for what ever is in the can.
You're so desperate these days,
But you don't have a plan.
You'll probably end up in a gay bar,
Looking for a man.
We told him that jazz is for people who are not naturally creative,
And he told us; in his words, "get over yourself"
We think that our statement obviously rang true,
Otherwise he wouldn't have reacted with such set too.
But what does he mean?
What should the masters of ready wit and repartee glean?
Are we low on moral wealth?
Do we need meds, to stabilise our mental health?
Do we need to pull ourselves up a shelf?
We doubt if The Self is a concept he truly understands
He's just a mouth, some trousers and a pair of jazz hands
His mind cannot calculate beyond that state
And like a rabid dog he cannot control his fate
He had to carry round his own soap,
Because he had sensitive skin.
He had a urine sample jar,
That he kept it in.
Some days he forgot it,
And it made him curse.
He thought he might get dysentery,
Or something worse.
For he could not use those factory soaps,
This is just another example of how a lonely man copes.
I've notice how sad he's become,
As he clicks and drags and calls that fun.
Just another pair of eyes and some hands,
Building some castles in virtual sand
I wonder if he exist at all,
As he wonders along ebay shopping mall.
Hunting and gathering; you might make comparisons,
Like collecting face-book friends and running charity marathons.
How does a man end up on his own?
His only life connections through mobile phone?
Unable to step out of his 'special to himself' comfort zone,
Can you help him to organise a friendship loan?
It got dark and started to rain,
I fell asleep and missed my train,
I spilt my wine and made a stain,
I looked for love but found only pain.
formed a band but found no fame,
I attempted to jump but ended up lame,
I tried to be proud but only felt shame,
And so I became the dwarf with no name.
tried to come clean but only got blamed,
I tried to stay sober but went clinically insane.
I thought I was wild but was really quite tame,
I'm sort of a lion, with a shaved-off mane.
flew to Bangkok but my bags went to Bahrain,
I invested my savings but made negative gain.
I tried to befriend Richard but only got Shane,
I'd rather be dead but still I remain.
Second Life Concert
Lang Lang performs Mozart: sinatra for piano in c major, the moderato allegro, the allegretto. Schumann: Traumerei. Liszt: Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 in C sharp minor Beethoven Piano Concertos Nos. 1 & 4 and the jubilant Concerto no. 1 in the Ampitheatre on Pangaea Island.
"Can I have your attention please.
I would like to announce that I am leaving as of today.
But i would just like to say that i have enjoyed working with you all over the past 3 years and I hope we will meet again sometime in the future.
I would also like to leave you with this little exhortation, and i hope that you will all keep it in mind when I'm gone, 'If life for you is a serious business, then you have totally missed the point.' Thank you and good-by"
I have really got into eating croissants and i am starting to have one every day with my 9 o'clock coffee, although the one i had today, purchased locally, was rubbish - so dry and cardboard like. In my search to get one here, the first cafe i went to, nearest the house, didn't even appear to know what one was.
To drink on a work night
Is it not better to drink on a work night? because it doesn't matter how you feel at work. But if you drink on Friday and Saturday it's your own projects that suffer.
I have been sticking to beer on the whole and fairly moderate at that, but it does catch up with you.
I had 3 pints of Staropramen with drama colleagues on Wednesday, a litre of Westons Cider on Thursday night, a litre of (i think it was 'Sunburst Golden Ale' (it was rubbish) ) on Friday night. On Saturday and Sunday nights I returned to my trusty old Brakspear Organic and had one litre of the stuff on the two consecutive nights.
I am going to stop now though as I have lines to learn,
Are You are under the influence of Wikshap?
Focus the attention on the working surface.
What ever you take on, take on whole heatedly, it is your duty to do so, and as a fellow artist I command you to do so!
You will then gravitate to a more rewarding position in life, society, art.
You can be inspired by anything, all you need is positive purposes.
Make sure you drink quality stuff
At the moment I have developed a penchant for Westons Organic Cider. It won the Gold Award at the International Food and Drink Exhibition 2001 and was winner of the Best Alcoholic Drink at the Organic Food Awards 2004, 2003 and 1998. It is an easy to drink cider with a ripe apple aroma and distinctive flavour.
If you prefer beer, I recommend Brakspear Organic Beer (ABV: 4.6% 500 ml bottle) It is approved by the Soil Association, and has been winning awards since it was launched in 2000. It is light and fresh in style with a distinctive aroma from the good old English Goldings hop.
Having said this, consider that you might be using alcohol to loose yourself and escape from your unfinished thinking.
You really should be finishing off your thinking.
If you finish of your thinking you will find that you can change your purposes.
You have to realise that, due to sanskara, (karma is the colloquial expression) there are certain things in life that you must face. Once you have faced them all and there are no more things less to face, you will find that you no longer have a need to loose yourself in anything.
But really, like you say, I want my work to show me things about myself that are hidden, they should dig deep through my psyche through my soul and pour out into the universe.
I would like to inspire my muse,
She shines like a jewel,
Her smile lights up the world.
Her radiance spills out like a fresh water spring,
glistening in the sun swept mountain meadows of her sweet soul.
This will make you laugh...
In Acting class we had a replacement tutor for a lesson. She is head of the school.
Standing up, I read through a piece from who's afraid of Virginia woolf with fellow student shaheena dax. To an intimate audience of students closely sat round in a circle
......... When we had finished, the tutor said that she couldn't hear me, at least, she "couldn't hear any consonants." She said that she didn't know if it was a cultural thing or something but it was mostly because I hardly open my mouth when I speak. Also when I said "Martha" It came out like "Arthur" because she couldn't hear the mm.
Obviously I will have to re-learn how to speak.
One only suffers, (or rejoices and takes pride) if one gets caught up in the material world (Q. what is doing the suffering? A. the ego )
He is lucky, and does not rejoice: he is unlucky, and does not weep. For nothing can be added to him or taken away. He is no longer capable of being lucky or unlucky: he is eternally blessed. For him pleasure and pain, gain and loss, victory and defeat, are all one and the same. Bhagavad Gita Ch10
What God s Will gives he takes, and is contented. Pain follows pleasure, he is not troubled: gain follows loss, he is indifferent. Bhagavad Gita Ch11
He has nothing to gain in this world by action, and nothing to lose by refraining from action. He is independent of everybody and everything. Bhagavad Gita Ch12
may your inner self be secure and happy
My Ego Ideals
· Dick Dastardly
· Dr. Who
· Tim Scott
· Salvador Dali
· Andy Warhol
· Filippo Tommaso Marinetti
· George Ivanovitch Gurdjieff
· Gary Oldman
· Malcolm McDowell
· Mr. Sykes
· John Lydon
· de Harriss
· Mick Karn
· David Sylvian
· David Bowie
· Mark Mothersbaugh
· The Residents
· Leonard Graves Phillips
· Matthew Carl Lucian
· Professor Severus Snape
· Anthony Kiedis
· Johnny Depp
· Russel Brand
Typical Day, taking it easy
· get up at 7:15.
· have a shower.
· meditate for half an hour.
· put out washing.
· do half an hour of yoga.
· eat bowl of porridge.
· do half an hour of Sanskrit study.
· make coffee (using ground Yirgacheffe coffee beans).
· go to the shop to buy 2 litres of highland spring, whilst coffee is brewing.
· speak to Dennis (The philosophical Indian shop keeper).
· 11:00am finally sit down to do some work.
· But don't do any work.
· trawl the internet rest of the morning for pictures and films, convincing myself that this was relaxation.
· 2:OOpm have scrambled eggs on chapattis.
· went out to the garden and sunbathed for an hour and a half.
· have a think about my current canvas, sat on it's easel, as I walk past.
· 4:00pm finally start work (Some mixing for Biz Chamber, Duncan's band).
· 5:00pm do something that makes me feel more creative. I obviously need to do this to live.
· go back to Biz Chamber and do some productive work.
· 9:00pm have my tea, (vegetable Soup) very late for me.
a TV programme about British soul music, and think about The Count
Harmful characteristics (which one are you?)
1. Nidra Nara: Sleepy Man; Always asleep. Loves to sleep. Will Sleep at any opportunity.
2. Tandri Nara: Twilight Man; Neither awake or asleep, Lost somewhere in-between.
3. Bhaya Nara: Fearful Man; Full of fear of everything, therefore never has any adventures.
4. Krodha Nara: Angry Man; Constantly full of anger, burning up inside, pouring boiling water on everything.
5. Alasya Nara; Lazy Man; No desire to do anything at all.
6. Dirgasutrata Nara; Time Wasting Man; Takes ten hours to do what could have been done in two, then can't remember why he stated in the first place.
I am mostly Dirgasutrata although recently due to my never-ending run of illness perhaps, I have been Nidra. Take this lunch time; all i could think to do was to find a park bench and sleep, which i did for an hour. I would have slept longer but for some woman with a loud laugh some 50 metres away. I wouldn't have minded only i thought it was kids at first, she was on the plump side two, probably fancied me, they usually do, the fat ones.
The fact that I never go anywhere troubles me, I used to be always galavanting off to some country didn't I? But I don't think I am becoming Bhaya like you, it's more a case of Alasya, this is bad.
Got a 30x30inch canvas on my easel set up in the living reoom, I just add to it when ever i have a spare 10 minutes. (N.B.(you could do this.))
The new series of paintings are to coincide with the release of dougy's mind
Bosko Photo Nocro Blowco Showro
we are spiritual beings having a human experience
Why I Quit SES
I stopped going because i don't have time anymore. but I am still on the same spiritual path, and I am still under the guidance of HH Vasudevananda Saraswati; I touch base, if you like, at the spiritual psychology class; the tutor john used to be in the same SES group as me. He left his level (M level) because he thought the tutor was jaded and wasn't helping. He has now joined a sort of noncommittal group, for people who, who just can't find time to be totally dedicated to the school. I may well join him , at some stage.
I was in the "F-Stream" before I left, which ironically is higher than M level.
1. At the time, I was worried because my bank balance was shrinking every month, so i tried to cut out as many monthly out goings as i could. The fees went up from £15 a month to £90 a month when I was moved from M level to F stream, this seemed quite a jump in my predicament to I informed my tutor, and he said "Oh, don't worry about the fees," So like any yorkshireman would, I stopped paying them immediately and continued without paying for a further year. After this time the head of level thought it was about time that I paid something, so a compromise fee of £30 a month was suggested. I still thought this was a bit steep for me.
(Ironically the fees for SPA, where I now attend classes, are £120 a month)
2. The classes at ses had stagnated quite a lot since the retirement of our original tutor, the wise old Mr. Mulford.
3. The new tutor was too hoity toity.
4. F stream was full of old fogeys.
5. M level was mostly for younger people and there were several beautiful ones too!!!, I missed them, especially on residential.
6. We seemed to be going over the same material all the time.
7. I was relying on weekly "slag of tutor" sessions in the pub as reason for turning up at all. (not healthy situation)
8. My original Sanskrit class on Sunday was cancelled.
9. The study of Drama was becoming more important to me.
10. My Drama-foundation course clashes evenings with regular f stream night on Tuesdays.
Renouncing the M
You get tremendous energy and you feel more virile, and you become more appealing to women, it probably has something to do with the subtitles of body odour that we are supposed to pick up on.
I've not touched a drop of drink since 10th of march.
Tonight I will have a social drink with fellow drama students, this will consist of 2 bottles of 275ml Beck's and that will be it for another week i guess.
Yesterday I presented my 10 minute vocal resonance warm up. It went well, I got the top grade for it and the tutor said, "that's the most energised I've ever seen you."
I used the Sanskrit vowel sounds, and lots of other stuff I've picked up from yoga canting, and acting psychology, lots of "zzzzzzzzzz" sounds and "Nga" "Nga" in the back of the throat, etc. I'll take you through it sometime. here is the transcript, if you're interested
(I am God, the truth)
Their materialism is meaningless
Don't think of yourself as a physical body, think of yourself as a causal body. Think of yourself as being 9 feet tall, especially when you are in their presence. Which of course is the truth.
You have the advantage over them because you can see straight through them. It is easy to imitate people like that. Practice making your voice more pharyngeal, this is all they do really, it makes them appear to have authority. Their whole persona is a mere facade, deep inside they are probably feeling inferior to you, they probably even fear you, because they don't understand what it is to be an artist.
If you are anything like me, in that you like to put fourth a mask of aloofness in order to mask ideas that you are useless. Also, although you are talented, your ideas about being a looser make you suppress your actions and showing the world just how talented you are. You shouldn't give a toss about what any body thinks basically. You cannot control peoples thoughts, so it is pointless to have any thoughts about what you think other people are thinking. Let go, Go for it, and Enjoy.
do you think being a multi instrumentalist is useful? or is it just like collecting stamps. Once you have your penny black, why not stick with that.
Pess tastes of what you've been eating. You can taste if you are eating too much salt, it's interesting how long traces of coffee linger there, which shows how the body struggles to get rid of the toxins. If you eat meat there will be a lot more toxins of cause, but I've not heard that meat eaters shouldn't have a go at this as well.
I've started drinking my own pess, it's great!
I makes you feel totally mental.
Seek the kingdom of heaven and all will be provided
Bloc party I like anyhow, pity about the slightly flat singing though, if only they had HR Throat; or even Terrance Trent Derby, Michael Jackson can pull off a good rock voice too, checkout "Dirty Diana"
"O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention"
Calliope (Chief of the muses and muse of epic poetry)
Euterpe (muse of lyric song)
Clio (muse of history)
Erato (muse of erotic poetry)
Melpomene (muse of tragedy)
Polyhymnia (muse of sacred song)
Terpsichore (muse of dance)
Thalia (muse of comedy and bucolic poetry)
Urania (muse of astronomy)
each muse had a genie
which is where the word 'genius' comes from
Well once at the front of the 3 hour queue, they split us off into 5 or 6 individual groups of ten. and went to different parts of the hall. It was the kind of thing i have become accustomed to at drama school, which is rather annoying really, fat lot of good that did me then! Each group of 10 had two, 'drama teachers' behind a tiger-tape barrier (a notional fourth wall of a stage perhaps) who told us to do various things. Our group had to hold hands and make a people triangle, then a people star; then we split up in to groups of 2 and we had to tell each other 3 significant facts about ourselves. I must have chosen the 3 most boring facts about me. The guy I was with, a little Asian man said he; taught salsa, was president of his student union and had created his own religion. I mean mine were. I'm a lead singer in a band, I'm an architect..... I can't even remember the third. So then we had to introduce our partners to the rest of the group. I was good at introducing my small friend and he was interestingly confrontational when the rest of the group asked him questions; but when he introduced me and some questions came, I blocked myself momentarily and before I could think about it it was too late. We only had to say 2 things in the end anyway. I should have said, I like cross dressing, I like defecating outside on the moors, and i once went to hospital with a candle up my arse. I might have gone forward then. The winners received an ink stamp of a BB eye on the backs of their hands and went to have their contact details logged photo's taken.
I'm going by the idea that they probably want people who are unique in some way, I mean on Saturday, the 6 loud mouth gays / fag hags I was auditioned with, didn't get picked, they chose the two weirdoes i'd talked to in the queue, unfortunately i didn't realise at the time that that's what they were looking for.
Well I'm just going to be me and hope they can tell how unusual I am from the footage.
A tendency to be rather quiet
Yesterday in Voice module, after an hour and a half of vocal exercises designed to improve resonance in all three primary resonating cavities (nasal, oral and pharyngeal) my tutor got me to recite two lines of a sonnet out loud to the rest of the class.; "Shall I compare thee ......"
After i finished, this is what he said,
"did everybody hear that?
Mark has a tendency to be rather quiet, but at least he talks slowly and this helps a little since it's easier to hear a quiet voice when you talk slow, however if he talked any faster you wouldn't be able to hear him at all"
I spent the entire weekend writing lyrics singing and arranging track 4 on the album. the song is nearing completion.
I would be interested to know what form your own work is taking. Is it song based perhaps, or an agreement of sounds forming a musical or noise piece or are we talking about a major work for orchestra?
What do you think about my current philosophy of song writing.
I.e. My songs are not about me just trying to communicate something that's in in my head. They manifest completely by themselves and their mission is to tell me something about myself that I didn't know before.
Did you learn anything from your DIY at the weekend?
Did I ever tell you about the equally tragic fate my sisters rabbit, Bamby? Same thing kind of happened with that, only Billy (the dog) killed it.
My dad told my sister that the black and white fluff ball had snuffed it in his sleep. He didn't actually tell her the truth until she was in her late 30's.
Equally then you should accept that the physical body of the rabbit no longer functions, the animal has passed on to another body. It might be in the form of a dog now, it did seem to be leaning that way.
So equally, you should accept when a new life is brought into being it is not the mothers personal project and should accept that the same can be said for a song or musical piece.
Also the music of Whiteberg is freely available an the internet, so it is not personal in that sense either. It represents the global communication of the Absolute. It's not a problem.
Regarding projects. As far as I am concerned the project has always been ours, and the same goes for the other members of the band. The fact that I do most of the work now, in a physical sense, does not alter this. I am in touch with you all on a spiritual level, and I hold meetings with you at night whilst your physical bodies and minds sleep.
I thought I detected a slight despondency in maitland of late, but had put it down simply to the processes of ageing and the general jadedness that this seems to cause. I was concerned for him of course and desperately wanted him to pull out of it. But I was encouraged by signs in his laugher that it wasn't a disposition that ran all that deep.
I am deeply sorry if it appears that I don't appreciate ron, phil, count, mait, and pab and the work they put into the band.
I would love it if mait could take a more active role in the band again. Even more than he used to though.
And I would be happy to help him with anything regarding his own work. I hope that it will be his desire to embellish the Superimposition Records stable with it.
This weekend I turned down an invitation to have a look at a friend in order to keep to our new album deadline.
I am liking my wounds at present having been turned down by a lovely young woman. We were in the pub, and it seemed like a now or never kind of situation. Maybe all is not lost. I might be able to come at her from a different angle.
Looking at an old picture of me at age seven, on a sand dune beach in Cornwall with my polystyrene surfboard. I am not really a different person today, I am the same person. I just have a bigger body that's all.
Relatively productive weekend
Continued work on album track 4, Finalising lyrics and doing the odd vocal take. (Rhyming dictionary came in handy)
Realised it is already nearly 3 years since last album. So have taken next Marsden Jazz Festival for completion deadline.
Rebuilt fence, damaged in storms. (Hammer, nails, wood, etc., quite enjoyable but a bit of a time waster)
I hardly did a thing on the other tracks this weekend, I think I started out with a bit of a week subject base this time, I feel i need to inject something new into it. I don't feel as inspired as I did with Monsterland. But, there again, i've started to think that songs should really just fall out of themselves and I expect them to tell me something that I didn't know before I wrote them; something deep, and inspirational. But if this isn't happening, girls are still the most inspiring things around really, when it comes to songs that is.
The concept will take some time to explain. I will post the full documentation, but briefly It is about the frustrations of life in the 21st century as seen in the mind of the obscure character 'Doug Rocker', who was the instigator of the steamers, and is held in extremely high regard, becoming a kind of guru to the superimposition records stable mates.
We have to read a modern poem this term, I couldn't believe it, in a way, when the tutor mentioned Simon armitage in his examples, and said, "I always think he's the poet laureate, but he isn't of course." Mind you he will probably end up being the next poet laureate.
He is reading from his new book at the NT, ray pogo wants to go but I have a drama night. it would be good to see ray heckle him (as he says), which he will. But I'm OK with SA, I think his stuff is OK.
According to one critic, whiteberg are a bit like King Crimson
Are we really?
would be nice to think of them as stable mates.
Well when you are Robert Fripp, you are inspired, you have got the company of Toyah to look forward to of an evening.
Some of our band members are equally as lucky though, it must be said.
Fear is a by-product of ignorance
You only fear because you don't fundamentally understand that which you apparently fear.
Example 01: Fear of having no money.
Like Golum and his relationship to rings, you may have the money event, "Money is Precious"
However money is merely congealed energy which given for service.
The more you hold on to your "Money is Precious" event, the worse your situation will become; as soon as you let go of this idea you will find that money will make itself available for all your needs.
Example 02: Fear of doing something that I believe I want to do but failing to succeed.
You fear success, because you think that you have never achieved it. The reason for this is that you have the self event "I am a failure." As soon as you let go of this you will find that you are able to achieve your goals.
1. Connect with the senses
2. Stay with the peace of the self
3. Accept things as they are
4. Recognise the self in others
5. See the need of the situation
6. Keep an open heart
7. Give up outward and inward criticism
8. do not compare yourself
9.Be dedicated to reality
10. Meditate: Get initiated into Mantra based meditation at at
"The School of Meditation". Don't rely on books for this, they could be dangerous.
"I want to find out"
"I go for it"
"Let it go"
"Is that so?"
Just for fun, I have compiled my have hits from 2006. (A couple of them are older but I only heard them this year.)
- The Killers
A good sing along about doing it on a beach.
Like You - The Dandy Warhols
Those times when you get a crush on someone and you get a rush of excitement every time you see them.
and White Town - Doves
Good rhythm and hook, especially in the intro.
Skans - Klaxons
Wonderfully dreamy. Sort of stuff Pablo writes.
a Chance - The Magic Numbers
Love the backing vocals, love the pace and meter.
Is It any Wonder - Keane
A very cleaver pop song, great sentiment, you can't beat songs about despair
Fantastic energy from Sir Bono and co.
Starlight - Muse
All hopes and expectations destroyed and sucked into the black hole duality. It's all over.
Light at the end of the tunnel
Away - Franz Ferdinand
They walked away for good; face it, get used to it.
Invisible Theatre, I perform.
Kong Life and Times
Hong Kong Bus Ride
Your New Years Resolutions 2006
Form a New Band
Write an album ("Hairy Monsterland Part II" if you are called The Count)
Find a new wife / husband
Double your earnings
Get out of the rut you think you're in
Stop acting false (Do and say exactly what the mind-set suggests)
Improvise all the time, especially around people.
Never say no.
I was jealous I trusted you completely, when the police come I will not spare you. When spring has died we live for the next spring. So as not to be alone, we build cathedrals. Five years of rented rooms and secret locations, I don't want to imagine, I want to know. I speak of love and you laugh, I need to get something outside. The blade was stuck in the body, it could have been a fish knife. Handy you lost your mind. What are you up to, how dare you judge me, you are my employee. Why are you smiling, you know they do.
I have also heard talk that The Count may be about to emigrate back to Hong Kong (where he grew up) I have even spotted these links in his web browser (must have been reminiscing or something):
Hong Kong Outlook
Driving Around Hong Kong
have overheard the band discussing the possibility of a covers
album. So I have compiled a list of songs they talked about. (will
add to this as and when):
Pop Musik - M
We Don't Talk Anymore - Cliff Richard
Yes Sir, I Can Boogie - Baccara
The Rhythm Of The Night - Corona
I'm So Beautiful - Divine
Ocean - Sheila Chandra
Health Concerns 13/12/05
It seems that it takes me at least half an our these days to do the most simple tasks, can you believe that I get up at 5 am everyday, yet I am not ready to sit down and do some work until at least 9:30. Also I appear to be aging rather quickly this winter, all my hair is falling out and the ones that aren't are turning gray. My skin is going scaly, all dry and scabby, especially on my forehead. My teeth feel like they are going to fall out.
Drama 23/11/05 "Count Whteberg's Monologue" by the Dwarf
"My name is Count Whiteberg. My life is Art, in fact everything I do is Art, every movement, every action, every sound. I see myself as a fallen Count, since I am no longer a ruler as I might have been in days of old, although, I haven't fallen too far, especially since my father is CEO of Whiteberg Global. He insists that I have no course to do any work of any kind and seems to be quite happy to let me live my life of Art. In any case, I have acquired a pet dwarf who seems to enthusiastically does everything for me; from when I go to bed in the morning to when I get up at night. Don't know how he manages it, never see the chap either, don't know what I'd say if I did, probably thank him or something."
Sub text: Both characters, are opposite aspects of the same ego. The Count representing a the universal ego, occupying a large space and the Dwarf representing the individual ego living in a small confined space. The dwarf had always been working for this Count fellow, doing housework, preparing meals, organizing finance etc. He did it because he was devoted to a life of service, working for what he perceived to be the greater good. From the Count's point of view, everything is taken care of almost miraculously.
Scene: The two, although aware of one another, have never before actually met until now. One evening the Count was stood in his withdrawing room warming his back against a large open fire, when to his surprise in came the dwarf (totally oblivious to the count) clutching a small book he sat himself down on a chair. He first saw the Count's feet; he slowly looked up at the count, started to tremble then jumped out of his chair.
Count: No wait, aren't you my... dwarf?
Dwarf: Yes My Lord I believe so.
Count: Ah, and we have not met, this is the first time. I can hardly believe my eyes, so you do actually exist.
Dwarf: indeed sire. and likewise I am having some difficulty coming to terms with your great presence.
Count: Believe it man; here I am larger than life
Dwarf: I am in ore of you; it is like I have realized a far greater existence
Count: Well I would just like to say that you are doing a simply marvelous job
Dwarf: It is with great pleasure that I do so sire.
Count: Your humility is most impressive, Lets drink to it, bring me a bottle of my best Malt from the cellar.
Ending: And so They declare their true friendship from that day on and they the vintage malt into the night and they doing a kind of jig. The dwarf realizes that he is much more than the miniscule little ego he once thought he was; and the count realizes the importance of humility and service, both realize how the two egos, though appearing different, are in fact one.
The tutor introduced us to 4 poems and we were asked to express them with movement and sound; and develop an improvisation derived from them. My performance was abysmal on this occasion.
Amato Saltone by Shunt 13/11/05
The audience are invited to interact with the scenery and actors, becoming part of the play themselves(almost), each person being given a character name with a short scenario; one was not quite sure who was acting and who wasn't, and to further confuse things some of the audience, myself included, were actors, or at least drama students, hence were quite accustom to the notion of improvisation. An actress spoke to me, I answered as my given persona 'Duke Jones,' She was totally in character, but I was only half believing in mine, almost to the point of falling back to this individual that I call myself, guess I could have made more of it but I didn't trust her one bit, she could have done or said anything for all I knew, there had already been a heated shouting match at one side of the room, looking back I feel disappointed with my lack of fearlessness. The audience were randomly split in to four groups, and invited to move through the labyrinth of different rooms and scenery, each getting a different view/ take, depending on orientation. The entire space is often cast into darkness, costumes were changed on stage. The whole experience was most invigorating.
Dreamt that someone turned the count's car into a hearse.
How to move from Tamas (Inertia) to Satva (harmony) 10/11/05
week we were introduced to the concepts of surreal theatre and
"theatre of cruelty" as described by Antonin Artaud
in his 1932 manifesto. In our exploration, we did quite a few
'eyes closed' exercises. For instance, in pairs, we had to improvise
a sound that we could both make, like a mating call, I chose the
'nogosaurus' sound as perpetrated by my old friend Ray Pogo (The
Nog) You make the sound in the back of your throat but sound it
through the nostrils. Anyway my may partner, Liz, and I had to
go to opposite ends of the room, close eyes and spin round a bit
to confuse the orientation, then find each other using the call,
which could be heard quite clearly amongst all the other calls
incidentally. In another exercise we had to feel our partners
(eyes closed again) feeling face, hair, hands, etc. I was pretty
confident that I could recognize my partner, Rohini, by her height
and especially her bangles. So off we went to opposite ends of
the room again turned round and had to feel every student in the
room until we found our original partner. Yet another variation
was improvise a physical action to recognize each other, I chose
the tie-chi style "clasping a beach-ball" with Helen.
There was another possible variation; "smell your partner"
but I think that the tutor chickened of of that one, and got is
to sniff the walls furniture, bags and floor instead. We did a
crawling and feeling exercise two. "Being a blob" was
another interesting practice, it made me think about how, 'squashed
into mold,' I have become in my work functions. And the same applies
to everyone else quite frankly. I must say that I found all of
these most enlightening.
Eventually, we split up into two groups and each had to devise and improvise a short piece of "Cruel theatre" intended to shock, disorientate, freak out the other. My group decided to arrange the seating to that it faced the walls of our rehearsal space; the lights were dimmed down to the minimum. The audience of five were outside, individually we each of went out to them and politely, with great care and hospitality, and to the accompaniment of easy listening piano music, escorted them in to our black space and sat them down facing the wall. Then there was a sudden discordant stop to the piano playing and the room fell quiet. Simultaneously, in the middle of the space, on a a silent count of five, we all started screaming as loud as we could, banging chairs on the floor, etc. slowly closing in on our captive audience from behind. The screaming suddenly stopped, there was a short period of silence, then we abruptly grabbed and shook our victims' shoulders with great violence. Lights.
Just as I sat down for lunch it stopped raining, then after I finished it started up again, I was so angry that I head butted the front door, three or four times, like a wood pecker. In the end I have had to put the car away wet, count is bound to notice. I should have stayed in bed today.
Today I am so totally pissed off and to prove it i have just slapped myself in the face several times. I am sat here in limbo waiting for it to stop raining so that I can dry the count's car down and put it away. The car hadn't been out for two weeks so it needed a run, the weather seemed to be dry and windy, maybe the odd spot of rain, but it didn't matter because the wind was very drying. But as soon as I got it out on the road, low and behold it started to piss it down. So now what was a perfectly clean car is now a dirty car, and guess who has to wash it, but can't because it's still effing raining.
I did very well this evening and got my weekend of to a good start. I managed to spill a glass of beer into the counts laptop. However, by some miracle, after drying out in front of the fire all night, it still seems to work. However, for some reason, this beer has decided to knock out the inbuilt sound-card. Luckily the count mostly uses an external card in his studio set up, still he is going to notice sooner or later.
Got totally pissed off and angry tonight, as I made me supper, because I forgot to use the rubber seal in my blender whilst making soup. The sticky fluid leaked out all over the work surface before I realized, so I probably lost the most nutritious bit I was so angry that I gurned, growled and hammered my fists on the work top. But never mind, I now have the opportunity in mind and might be able to recall the feeling in some acting role or other.
we continued to explore the use of the mask, but moved away from
our expressionless masks used earlier and used masks which expressed
particular emotions. We also looked into the genre of Melodrama.
Thus we were encouraged to use the emotion conveyed by the mask
and elaborate physically, melodramatically. After a brief session
of mimicking each others' walks, we split into groups of three
or four for some melodramatic improvisations. In my group I was
Quasimodo, and to my great delight and amusement I had captured
a young distressed boy and was in the process of binding him with
a rope when along came Cat Woman, who rescued the boy and beat
the crap out of me. In another improvisation with a different
group, I was a bar man spectating a card game taking place in
my bar. The game ended up in a fight, when one person accused
another of cheating, there was a fatal stabbing to my delight,
then another, then eventually my chips where up too, the murdering
card shark escaped amidst the sound of police sirens.
During theory, a strange thing happened, the tutor was talking about the history of melodrama, how it started in Victorian theater with the invention of gas light etc. Then eventually she started to talk about the classic horror movies and how they had risen up via the gothic novel. Then she said "and now days you get goths of course, did any one used to be a goth?" One girl put her hand up and said that she had been one, but it was a long time ago. Then the tutor said, "My daughter used to be one, wearing black all the time, she was even in a band who played very thrashy goth music, she is a drama teacher now though" I felt myself going red, but no one seemed to notice; I was thinking, "but I didn't used to be a a goth, I am a goth, this isn't a teenage phase for me it's the way I am." My only conclusion has lead to the revelation, that my gothness (black clothing, long hair, etc) is on the whole completely invisible. So the question arises, what do they see?
I think I have left SES. I didn't go tonight. The fees are just too expensive for me, at £70 a month. I told my tutor this back in Easter, I said then that I would have to leave because of the fees, he said "don't worry about the fees" So I didn't now he's telling me that I am £500 in arrears. So good luck to them, I hope that they won't try to claim their fees in some way, because I was under the impression that they had been wavered. I am still interested in the study though and I do really live by the teaching of adwita. And Sanskrit is fascinating of cause, maybe I can peruse the studies alone fore a while, I might meet a real guru eventually anyhow, who knows.
The Count, who has been adding vocals to a new track called "Boom",
from the forthcoming album; "doggy's mind." Recording
has been sent to White for addition of guitars.
dwarf Job interview techniques: Disagree with everything, "so
you seem to have moved jobs quite a lot over the years,"
"not really, I was at X associates for 3 years, Y partnership
for 2 years."
contradict, everything, throw in random sentences, such as "there seems to be a problem with individual egos these days among younger staff." "I don't play games", say things in an unusual way, example, instead of " do you mind if I remove my coat" Say "this is a coat, actually, I don't really need to ware it" Only half shake hands, letting the interviewer only clasp your fingers. Act like they are a smell, and they are the last person you would want to shake hands with.
I'm having one of those, lost weekends. but not like in the wall of voodoo song, at least they had each other "Driving out of Vegas in their automobile, She was in the backseat while he was at the wheel, With the windows wide open" doesn't sound like a lost weekend in my books "All the money from the store they'd gambled away, He said, "...the best laid plans often go astray."" In my case it isn't money that I've gambled away, it's life, but it wasn't so much gambling but just throwing it into the wind. Perhaps it's more like the wedding present: "Lost your love of life? Too much apple pie"
I just vegetate, occasionally i muster up some energy to work on a song, the rest of the time i stare blankly at the screen and look forward to my next meal. They say that When you have no one to share your life with you often turn to food for comfort, it's like you seek love through food, so you buy the best quality organic food you can get, because it has been more lovingly cared for. That's one of the reasons why "Whole Foods Market" is an expanding business, there are so many lonely singletons like me around there days.
recently we have been working with masks which made me think of
"der Plan" or "The Residents" Everyone is
wearing a mask of some sort though all the time, don't you think?
I felt exhausted last night after my drama class, It was the hardest topic thus far; we were exploring the concepts of the Mask and Ritual, like from a 'Peter Brook' perspective. We were asked to investigate a ritual that we perform everyday, miming it out and making it bigger and bigger until it became a form of worship. I found this to be quite a difficult task. I chose making myself a morning coffee at work, with my individual cafetiere, seal rapped refrigerated ground organic coffee, cardamom, etc. There is a lot of sub text to the situation, but this didn't make it easy, I was finding it hard to really let my imagination flow. I then joined in with three other students. They all had there own rituals to perform. Anyhow, we some how had to interact with each other and inter link the rituals, whilst wearing expressionless masks. A girl called Aasia lied down prone on two chairs and was "writing her journal" for me she was the kitchen work top, for another chap standing opposite me she was his ironing board, and a girl, called Helen was "sorting through her bag" but her bag was my fridge and kitchen cupboards. We had to perform all of this wearing expressionless masks.
Philosophy Week at Nanpanton Hall: 14/10/05 to 21/10/05
went on another philosophy retreat with my group and Thing I remember
most was Mr. Heinkel's introduction of a new method of preparation
for meditation. It was all about the five breaths or 'Prana.'
The first tree are of physical function and are automatic, i.e.
breathing in, breathing out, and the circular breath of the digestion
Then you have the downward breath the upward breath and the upward and outward breath. With the downward breath, you can let all the tensions of the mind and body simply pass into the earth, and really feel the grounding of the body. Then you let the upward breath manifest, in this it is almost like the head opened up like a flower, and an equilibrium is created, so that you remain balanced between upward and outward breaths. Then you have the upward and outward breath, which allows one to open up ones heart with the bhawana of fearlessness. Then you let the listening run right out to include all sounds near and far; then you make it universal, you open out to all universal, then, letting the mantra arise ( you won't have one of these unless you've been initiated), and repeating it fully in the universe with some force, then letting it go gradually by reducing the effort.
The same method can be used for reflection. Instead of mantra, use an object or sentence that you wish to reflect upon.
I have been reading "An Actor Prepares" By Constantin Stanislavski and so far it is brilliant. Written in diary form he, explains the philosophy behind the art of acting, and the methods by which one can achieve greatness in terms of creating totally convincing characters on stage and screen. It's fantastic because it relates back totally to advita philosophy (SES) So it really rings true. I can't understand why it has taken me so long to discover this wonderful art form called acting