Tonight I worked more on the pick guard. I think it's going to look perfect. This whole guitar project is really making me anxious. I also had band practice with some friends, and after an hour of playing we decided to go hang out at the guitar store, all carpooling in one car while leaving all of our other cars and our instruments/equipment at the house we practiced at. While at said store, a freak hurricane of a storm hit the area, most severely damaging the exact area of the house we practiced at, almost deliberately knocking down trees on the street right before and after the house, forcing the police to completely block out the entire street, leaving not only my car at the house but all of my guitars and my amplifier locked away. The kid who lived at the house can't even go into his house. Midwest weather just sucks.

Also, these lyrics came to me recently. Let's wait and see how the rest of it turns out:

My life is a flowing stream

An incandescent glowing dream

Of innocence and poverty

And everything that's in between

I finished sanding the guitar completely. Now I'm working on painting the pick-guard and body.

I have this floral design I wanna work on for the pick-guard. I scratched it up with sandpaper and drew it on, now the hard part is getting the airbrush frisket to cooperate. I'm also working with some "test" blocks of wood to perfect the painting technique. It seems like it's extremely easy to botch. I'm so anxious to see how the whole thing turns out! I also decided on getting some Texas Special pickups to install. I'm also looking for a nice and cheap laminated maple neck. I'm shooting for the perfect blues guitar.

Also I was the first comment on a Zach Braff photo. I felt badass.

Lookin' for fun and feelin' groovy

I still think that there should be a law requiring everyone to listen to the 59th Street Bridge Song once every day.

This is one of the better songs I've ever heard. I love that specific video because of the energy at 2:45, and the comments people have left on it are great.

I feel like such a hippy when I use words like "energy." But I can't really find any other word to associate to the feel and emotion they put into that performance. Dylan's performance of Like a Rolling Stone after the infamous "Judas" comment has the same ambiance.

"Play it fucking loud!"

Yesterday my sheet music for Yes's album Fragile came in the mail. I ordered it for the song "Mood for a Day" as I hope to perform it (along with "Clap," also by Yes, or "Since I've Been Loving You" by Led Zeppelin) for the Berklee audition. Right now the whole experience terrifies me.

I also completed my writing of two songs, both being folky guitar-and-harmonica arrangements that I might try to record soon or tape for youtube. I really hope to get together 7 songs or so I've written and make an "album" to send to people. I'm trying to collaborate with a keyboardist/bassist friend who I've known since early grade school to put all of my ideas into real recordings. Summer, you cannot come fast enough.

In other news, I was very recently introduced to a musician named Sufjan Stevens. His song "Chicago" is equally as awesome as this.

Sanding, sanding, sanding

I spent a complete three and a half hours today sanding. That's right, I finally convinced myself to start working on my guitar project again. I took the time to become acquainted with my new Jens Lekman CD and worry about how the next few months (and years) will turn out. I hope to work again on sanding (I just need to finish the sides) this Friday and painting on Saturday.

Photos here, here, and here

Yesterday my day was spent at the Loop. It began at my service project which involves assisting a third grade teacher in teaching about 15 kids who are all below the poverty line. It sounds good, except for the fact each child is absolutely demonic. I confiscated three notes with each being a colorful arrangement of words including "fuck," "bitch," and "slut," spent a good half hour chasing three boys around the school because they escaped from class, and broke up a single fight. Afterwards I went to see the movie Greenberg and immediately after to see a free Jailbox concert at Vintage Vinyl (greatest store ever) with some friends. I also saw a five neck guitar. Awesome.

Beautiful.

Look out, look ah-ha-ha-ha-out

I'm trying to refrain from posting so much, but I really can't help myself.

I just love the atmosphere that comes with the whole folk-punk experience: an intimate concert in which the audience is apart of the performance in screaming incredibly honest lyrics from the bottom of their candid and intoxicated hearts. I can't imagine how anyone can listen to the mainstream music that so strongly insists on supporting materialism and hollow relationships.

Be kind to those you love

And be kind to those you don't

But for God's sake you gotta be kind

And respectful because we're all one soul

Be the best fucking human that you can be

How to Write a Folk Song

Original Article written by Christopher Miller

Since you probably haven't jumped any boxcars or participated in union rallies recently, pick a hot contemporary issue that you feel deeply about. This can range from a war abroad or your best friend's haircut. If you don't represent your generation now, you will soon. Even if the times aren't changing, you can convince people they are.

Step 1

Because folk songs are written for the people at large, ask yourself why this issue would matter to a large demographic. For example, your best friend's haircut might remind you of the fall of the Ottoman Empire. Write this down in the simplest terms possible.

Step 2

Find a pair of jeans, T-shirt and sweater that you can live in for the next couple of months. Locate a mirror and look deeply into your soul for at least two or three minutes. Use that. Put back on your sunglasses and don't take them off, even if you are inside

Step 3

If you don't know how to play guitar by now, get your hands on one and start strumming. Don't worry if you are musically disinclined. What matters is the message of the song and the two or three chords you might choose. If you can't play guitar, don't worry either. Just find a friend who does and is willing to let you have the spotlight

Step 4

Find the nearest public square or fountain and belt it out, stopping occasionally for cigarettes or to talk with the pigeons. Try to incorporate your observations into your song. Remember, folk songs are amorphous adaptable things that shift according to your needs.

Step 5

Respond coyly to requests for interviews. When asked questions about your past, tell them to listen for it in the wind.

Step 6

By now you are probably playing shows and asking yourself why you even started this in the first place. Now it is time to go into hiding, only to emerge twenty years later for various benefit concerts and film cameos. Your kids are old enough now to exploit your name. Try to remain happy for their success.

Tips & Warnings

• Don't choose song titles that have already been taken. Traditional folk songs are fine, as long as they point back to some mysterious and unrecoverable sadness.
  
  
• Try to keep the language as simple as possible. For example, love rhymes very well with dove or glove.
  
  
• If you are going to write a break song, cloud your object of endearment in metaphors. A lot of people have written great songs about "lovers," but how about washing machines as lovers?

• --
  "That's another way of writing a song, of course. Just talking to somebody that ain't there. That's the best way. That's the truest way. Then it just becomes a question of how heroic your speech is. To me, it's something to strive after."
  -Bob Dylan
  
  
  
  
  
  I wanted an Anarchy Heart on my wall in my room where I record, so I put it there. Right between the Woodstock and Grateful Deal posters.

The world needs more honest musicians.

"No. They've got enough. They've got way too many. As a matter of fact, if nobody wrote any songs from this day on, the world ain't gonna suffer for it. Nobody cares. There's enough songs for people to listen to, if they want to listen to songs. For every man, woman and child on earth, they could be sent, probably, each of them, a hundred records, and never be repeated. There's enough songs. Unless someone's gonna come along with a pure heart and has something to say. That's a different story. But as far as songwriting, any idiot could do it. If you see me do it, any idiot could do it."

-Bob Dylan

Long Live the Queen

Yay for sad songs. Not that wallow-in-self-pity depression crap. Real "Tears in Heaven" sad songs.

All in all, you're just another brick in the wall.

This morning I took the ACT test. Five hours straight of giving an administration a chance to analyze my mind by answering questions irrelevant to anything I will ever do. Not that it's supposed to be relevant, but still. It's boring. It isn't like a regular test in school in which you feel a sigh of relief from the knowledge, regardless of how well you think you did, that you at least have the matter of that test at rest (rhyme!) and that you will not need to worry about the information at all until the exam. The ACT is not so forgiving. The stress is multiplied when I'm told that whatever college I go to will be affected by the score, and doubled with the knowledge that (regardless of the score) I will be taking it again.

The education system undermines creativity. Sir Ken Robinson said at his TED talk that an enormous aspect of creativity is the ability to allow yourself to make mistakes. The logic behind this is simple enough. The creative minds (not exclusive to the arts) really belong to those who excel in the world; to the ones who are creative enough to rearrange the current pieces of the systems and begin something new. Paul Allen and Bill Gates took what was available and created the Windows operating system, Mark Zuckerberg and Kevin Rose created websites that would almost revolutionize the international human network, and the Wal-Mart guy made Wal-Mart.

So why are we taught to be terrified of making mistakes? There is no questioning that the people listed above relied on mistakes and serendipity. Despite this, we are told that mistakes could ruin us. We are educated out of our creativity, sentencing the majority to jobs that have no connection to any passion (passion that often goes undiscovered, too).

Gillian Lynne underperformed in school. She probably had what today would be called ADHD. Her mother brought her to a psychologist, who told her to immediately bring Lynne out of normal schooling and enroll her in a dance school. Gillian Lynne eventually became internationally known for designing the choreography of acts such as Cats and Phantom of the Opera. Today, they would have thrown her on some medication and told her to sit down like everyone else.

As my freshman math teacher pointed out, "When you make mistakes, people die." To me, it's obvious that everyone has an enormous amount of creativity that only needs an outlet. Once the correct outlet is discovered, mistakes must be allowed.

"All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up. "
-Pablo Picasso

Seven

In English, after a quiz, I jotted down seven things I want to do before I die. Obviously, some are more realistic than others.

Attend a NAMM convention

Go to a TED Talks conference

Learn to not be terrified of everything

Make a career out of music

Perform a show in the Royal Albert Hall

Go to a Glastonbury festival

Play at a Glastonbury festival


Also, a friend who I've known for many years told me that I should stop being "such a hermit who only plays music." Psh. Yeah right.

The Fairest of the Seasons

So, I've decided to sit in the corner of my room and listen to Nico and Simon and Garfunkel for the remainder of the school year.

Scrubs.

I don't have much to say. This week has been really dreadful. Hopefully my Noah and the Whale CD will arrive tomorrow.

The Office

I found an awesome website where you can watch every single Office episode online for free. Some videos have the audio a few seconds out of sync, but its better than paying for it. I'm too cheap to act legally.

And in case it isn't obvious, I have something of a compulsive feeling to let people know what I'm listening to at any given moment.

Where is my mind?

Stop.

Acid Trip Art

I was killing some time and fell upon a very interesting website. Supposedly, as a government experiment, a man was put under the influence of LSD and drew portraits on timed intervals. The results give something of an insight into what the chemical does to the mind.

While we're on the subject, let's listen to some music induced by LSD



You gotta look past the faces, man.