Letterbomb
Things inside my cortex are all born and raised sincere
But sometimes thoughts and questions can be tutored by a fear
And fear is one big beast, with many ugly kin
That smothers cousin logic and blinds me from within
Normally my hardware for converting thoughts to air
Tends to do them justice, gives them shape all clear and fair
But tricked into a sweat and choking on emotions black
The chords, they become dissonant and vile and wrong and cracked
And when I hear these sins, as if from someone else's mouth
I laugh then hang my head, and wonder how the words got out
Then hope the folks I'm talking to are old and hard of hearing
Or the accidental insults just turn out to be endearing
Either way I must pick up and try to soldier on
Right up until the next time that I drop a letter bomb.
Everything Is In Boxes
It's got me thinking about Stuff, and how little of it I actually need.
I'm sort of dreading going travelling partly because I feel utterly unprepared. But honestly, what do I actually need?
- Travel Documents
- Clothes
- Sleeping bag
- Money
Really, that's it. A few niceties to make me feel more comfortable wouldn't go amiss but it's not a gigantic problem if I leave them out.
Another issue is that I hate committing Stuff to the landfill, especially if it's still technically usable but just in awful condition (like my grubby, hole filled shoes).
But I really really think I have too much stuff. After I've moved house, and am back from holiday, I'm going to try REALLY HARD to get rid of most of it.
Over And Out.
Sexuality
Just a short post today!
As a sexual non-conformist, I have a monster or two in my life who deal with everything that is troublesome about my sexuality.
A lot of it comes down, I think, to the issue of morality, whether a particular orientation is - or can be - right, wrong, or even just stupid.
I want to try divorcing in my head the two concepts of sexuality and sexual acts. Sexuality is something that just is. You can't do anything about it, so it must be neither moral nor immoral.
I think I'm okay with that concept, it doesn't ring any major denial bells in my head, and I don't feel like the morality aspect of it ever weighs on my mind.
The next step though is to try and detach embarrassment and guilt from it. Going by the same logic that you can't help your sexuality, why does it make sense to feel these sorts of emotions about it? This is the question I stumble at. What is it specifically that makes these emotions bubble up? It's something that I need to work on.
Comment Zen
This post was mostly to get my thoughts straight on the matter (no pun intended), to see where I was at. If you have comments though, please share! General thoughts, hugs & nice words, your experiences, it's all good!
One thing though, please don't tell me my sexuality is natural, moral, completely acceptable, anything like that. I do know it, but spiel like this makes me feel bad for not being so quick to totally be comfortable with it.
Anything else though is fair game!
I Want!
Somewhat lifted from Lucy's blog.
I want rest.
I want to be motivated and focused.
I want to be able to work on my projects without tripping over them all.
I want structure. The ability to self-impose structure.
I want to move to the next stage of Shiva Nata.
I want to make money.
I want to travel more, or at least become a bit more independent and world-wise.
I want to get dreadlocks.
I want to be better at cooking.
I want to be better at music.
I want to be able to play Pokémon (and various other computer games) without it taking over my life (or feeling like it has).
I want to start and keep working on a Book of Me.
I want a relationship.
I want to be able to not obsess over getting a relationship.
I want to clear out my inbox.
I want to blog more. And be less self-concious about the things I post here.
I want to work on my stuff more.
I want to know more about what I want.
What If I Could Play Guitar?
Let's play a game. Replace "Play Guitar" with your own personal aspiration. Then try to answer the question.
Anyway, I'm well chuffed with my answer. You can listen to it on last.fm.
A Very Personal Ad: Housemate Needed
Here's what we want:
A fourth housemate to live with us from July for a year (at least).
Somebody who:
- Wants to live in Southampton
- Is happy to share food and chores
- Is environmentally-friendly, or at least has no beef with people who are
- Is a generally positive person
- Likes colouring in and drinking any sort of tea
- Is a student, recent graduate or is young at heart
Our commitment to you:
We commit to:
- Give you shelter
- Provide good times and great company
- Be friendly and fun
- Be open and honest
- Enjoy your company
Ways we could find you:
Maybe you read my blog. Maybe one of your friends sees this post and lets you know.
Maybe you see one of the adverts we've put up around the place.
Maybe we just happen to meet you at the Art House, at conservation, Green Action, Wildsoc, at uni or at work or at the shops. Or maybe something else happens that I haven't even thought of.
If this is you or someone you know, please send me an email! neonpaul@gmail.com
Music from a Tiny Island – This Is Not A Masterpiece
OH YES! My RPM 2010 album is complete and ready for download!
This Is Not A Masterpiece
But it's still pretty good!
Click to download:
Tracklist
- Terrible
- Dance of Shiva
- End of the Road
- In Your Eyes
- The Fox and the Crow
- Good Times
- Saving the World
- You
- Turbu Lamps
- Photoelectric Effect
My Fave Bit: Tim and Sam’s Tim and the Sam Band with Tim and Sam – Rolling Hills
The following is a guest post from Massimo Zeppetelli of My Fave Bit. You can find the original post at his blog.
I've been looking forward to writing about this band for a long time. Alongside Luke Leighfield, it was this band that revived my love for music, watching bands and having faith that I could once feel creativity and be creative again.
During my second year, I began to really hate University - the monotonous lectures which were teaching me nothing that I wanted to learn and the stale atmosphere of Southampton was really bringing me down. So it was probably a miracle to be sitting one row in front of Luke Leighfield (whom I only met once before to play one of his tracks on my radio show) in a lecture who was telling the person next to him that he was leaving tomorrow on a UK tour starting in Edinburgh. Edinburgh. EDINBURGH. I didn't care how much I didn't know him - someone behind me was hours away from going on a road-trip out of this crap city, to play music, meet new people, have fun... and go to EDINBURGH. I went into autopilot and turned round and stated "I'm coming". At no point was an invite mentioned. I didn't care though. Luke, the adventurous type he is, hesitated for a second, but then accepted, saying that he'd pick me up in the evening.
And so began my musical life again.
We had to stay in Wales before setting off because we were apparently touring with another band who were based there. I wasn't really moved by the information, I just went along with everything. So we ended up staying in Ewloe which is where Tim, from the band name that I'm writing about lives. It was a cosy place surrounded by fields and the positive aura of a wonderful mum. The foundations of this tour were moulding into something great.
So we set off in the morning on the long drive towards the first gig: The Southern in Edinburgh. Stopping off halfway at a service station so that we can eat sandwiches made by Tim's mum, I discovered the amazing taste of mustard on sandwiches. This is the first of many positive changes which happened to me on this tour.
Then came the concert. It was Tim and Sam's band to go on first with Luke headlining all dates on the tour. They began to play, and i think it was that moment that I hadn't felt anything so hard-hittingly beautiful for such a long time...years. I rarely smile uncontrollably, and this was one occasion where it was hurting and where it was embarrassing because I was a Cheshire cat. My tummy was tingling as though I had fallen in love (yes, this all sounds incredibly cringe, but that's your fault for thinking that extreme emotions are uncool - man up). I just couldn't believe what I was hearing. And I had 10 more concerts to go!
Being on tour, I ended up getting to know the band (and Luke) really well, and they ended up being some of the most genuinely nice people I have ever met, a criteria I think is crucial to making such genuinely nice music. You can't fake a sound like this if you're obnoxious.
I now regularly visit the band in Wales. They have become good friends. It is, in just about equal measure, my most exciting place to visit as well as Edinburgh. I'm going back in two weeks.
And this song is a prime example of their benevolent music. It is actually just a b-side to their Summer Solstice single, but I think it is one of their best tracks. I'm not alone, when the famously flat Tom Ravenscroft (John Peel's son) played it on Tom Robinson's 'Introducing' show on 6/7/09 he said: "I think there may be a very good chance that I have just fallen hopelessly in love with that record and will listen to nothing else for the rest of the year".
So do I really have a favourite bit for something which I have praised so extensively? I do actually.
From 1:26 the piece suddenly drops to guitar and piano before the drums return at 1:45. I think this section is wonderful and I really love the chord change at 1:30 (which I think is to the relative minor). It's as though the rest of the track builds up to this section.
The world needs more music like this - simple and to the point: Positive, beautiful music. If any label had an inkling of sense and ambition to being responsible for improving the mood of an unquantifiable amount of people, they'd sign Tim and Sam. You've only got to go to one of their concerts to see how pretty much everyone in the room is transfixed and transformed. I'll lay out the options:
If you're a label: sign them. It'll be a crucial thing you'll do in your life.
If you're a person: listen to them, watch them in concert. It too will be a crucial thing you'll do in your life.
Massimo Zeppetelli writes My Fave Bit, a blog about appreciating the particular bits of songs that you can't get out of your head. Sign up to his RSS feed for a regular dose of music old and new.
Mistakes on Radio
As a radio presenter, there are two people you really need to be aware of.
They are the most important factors that contribute to making your show a success or a failure. So it's a must to understand their roles and, more significantly, how exactly they influence the running of the show.
So you may have guessed. They're the listener and the presenter. And there's a sort of symbiotic relationship. You each have something the other needs.
The listener has come to you looking for entertainment, information, or whatever it is that your show specialises in. The listener needs to know they can trust you to provide that - and you need the listener's respect.
Making mistakes
Even the smallest mistakes need to be handled right if you want to keep the listener's trust. So turn the problem into something positive. Look at it as an opportunity.
As an example: I heard this morning - on a student station's breakfast show - a presenter apologise, saying that the song he just played was more mellow than he remembered. The rest of the show was dedicated to slightly more upbeat tracks (although I quite appreciated the change in pace).
He could've turned this into something more positive. Saying something like "A nice mellow track there, something a bit different for you. Email the studio, let us know whether you liked it" would have changed the situation to make it sound like a purposeful experiment, a request for feedback and a chance for growth.
Remember: It's not a mistake, it's a feature.
That Impossible H Word
A few weeks ago I started taking guitar lessons. I've been playing for years but when you're self-taught you can only go so far before you need help reaching the next part.
I've also signed up for a session on starting a business (I'm starting a record shop). For a while I just thought I'd go it alone. More than that, it was an assumption that there was no other option. But then it turns out that, yes, there are people whose job it is to help out people in this situation.
Hey, I could get used to this "getting help with my goals" thing! What's next... well I suppose I want a mentor to help me understand the record shop business in the first place. Somebody who's done it before, or doing it now. Oh! What are the chances; the owner of a record shop in Brighton is visiting Southampton and setting up a stall for a day! All I have to do is just ask him... just ask him for...
I'm aware of little noises in my mind. Little irritated scratching noises. Little disapproving mumbling noises. Little menacing gnashing noises. Little interfering monster noises.
You can't ask him for help! Who do you think you are? He owes you nothing, he's way too busy running his own business to help some pathetic wannabe like you.
It's my good friend and long-time companion Inability To Ask For Help, who tells me that the difference between a) a teacher or course and b) Mr RecordShopOwner is that on one side you have someone offering (and benefiting from giving) help. Whereas on the other side... you're just some needy leech.
So I guess you're scared, then? You don't know how this person's going to react and you need that to feel in control of the situation?
Anxious about how you'd come across. I don't want this person to be annoyed with you!
Right, you're worried that this person will dislike me for bothering them. I know it's so important to you for everybody to like me. And so when we get to a situation where there's a chance I might upset somebody in some way... you'd rather I just steer clear of the whole situation?
Completely. Do you remember what it's like to have not a single real friend? Because I do.
I was wondering when that would come up. Inability To Ask For Help is actually a pseudonym for Fear Of Rejection.
...you know, I have plenty of friends now. Really good ones. And this middle-to-late-aged man from Brighton is unlikely to ever be more than a contact or associate. It's not a huge risk to take, at all.
I. Don't. Care.
Monsters do not often listen to reason.
So now I'm at a loss. Obviously I want to avoid rubbing anyone the wrong way, but then if I can't ask for help when in need I am going to struggle greatly.
And, in a cruel twist of irony, this is something I guess I'd like some external input on. I'm open to whatever the universe flings at me. I'll totally Shiva it up, maybe dive through Havi's blog, but I totally welcome blog comments too. I suppose what I'm trying to say is: Help!