I don't want to burn like the sun
I just want to warm people with the heat
I don't need to part the sky
I just want to unite it
I never will heed the call and asnwer of what the world has preconstructed
I never will be quite what was planned
No need to reach and grab a star
If you can be the light that shines in your palm
Frustrating when your words are on the tip of your brain
But are blocked by that sensation to evaluate
No need to be that way
So when I walk around that cold street downtown looking for that light
Just be
shit man I thought that was good for a second but the thought process disrupted the result.
I feel like my brain is moving slow, and I don't know why. Maybe I will never know. Too bad because maybe I am just tired, or maybe I am just right.
How do you take all you have ever experienced and transform it into a medium that is comparable to what you went through? I don't know if it's possible.
fack
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
The Lion's cage
It has been an eventful few weeks. I have really overdone myself, trying to act like a normal 24 year old. But in this short period of time I have done a few things I thought I never would again. I played a show, let alone a show at a world famous jazz club, had a birthday dinner, got drunk, smoked a cigarette, flirted with random women, gotten random phone numbers, exercised, practiced, composed. Unfortunately I feel like I am relapsing. I got bit by dog at Griffith park. The bite wasn't bad, and it was my fault for wanting to pet it. I should know better than to touch animals or go the park after everything that has happened. I got a tetanus shot and I think that is what did it. The neuropathy is back and its killing me, but I can't stop. I won't let this interfere with my dream of being a musician.
I sat in on a gig with my good friend and former teacher Brandon Bernstein at Red White and Bluezz in Pasadena. I had a blast and was able to see Putter Smith. Putter Smith is a bassist who played with the legendary Thelonious Monk, as well as dozens of other well know jazz musicians. We had the chance to talk a little bit about life and music. I went to a gig he played with a drummer friend of mine at UCI. I rode in Putter's car and we had a long time to chat about music and life. He said some incredible things. I really admire him for being a true musician. I had asked him about his upbringing and when he got started. He said he got his first gig at 13, and his bass only had 3 strings on it. But he kept playing and learning and would eventually blossom into an amazing artist. He told me there was a point in his life where he said that "Jazz was it", that there was nothing else on this green earth that he was meant to do. He knew it too, and said it with such conviction that I got goose bumps. He talked about being a session musician, playing classical gigs, and teaching, but at the end of the day his purpose was to express himself through jazz. He told me that his whole goal was to express whatever was in him, and in his words "People ask me what are you trying to express? I don't know what the fuck it is, all I know is that it feels awesome when it comes out. It isn't some underlying sorrow or angst inside me. But I just need to get it out." I whole heartedly agreed. I feel that way about music and I constantly feel this urge to let whatever is going on inside of me out that way. The only true form of self expression. I guess you could say I am awkward about myself, about the truth inside of me. I don't know what it is that makes me feel different or weird, but the only thing that makes me feel better is playing that damn bass.
He also told me about making it as a musician, and how he realized that when he was trying to get food stamps that he was poor. He raised 2 kids and had a wife while only playing music his whole life, but he also invested in real estate after only reading a book. If that isn't the sign of a genius I don't know what is. So I had a great time just talking with him about life and getting some good advice. I also got the chance to see him play, and man what a master. His soloing is so amazing. He really does express himself. Sitting in that bar listening to a trio of drums, bass, and trombone I felt whole. I felt connected to something bigger than me and everyone else in the room. I also got the chance to play and do some of my own expression. It sucks sometimes that the only thing in life we want to do we can't.
I met a guy in the UCLA psych ward who had really bad spine problems. Apparently he had been hit by a truck on his motorcycle when he was 22 and was in constant pain ever seen. He looked mean as hell when I saw him but I soon realized that the constant grimace on his face wasn't from anger, but from the constant pain he was in. We talked a lot about music. He told me that he worked as a grip in movies in Hollywood, had a wife and 2 kids. He just got tired of dealing with the pain and called his parents and said he was done. So they took him to UCLA and tried to get him some help. He loved music too, and he said it was the only thing that he wanted to do besides be a father. He brought in his guitar and played some; I could tell that it hurt to pick it up, it hurt to think about the notes, it hurt to move his fingers, but he did it anyways. Because the pain was worth the feeling he got from it. At that time I couldn't really use my right arm, kind of like now, so I really understood him. I really understood how the music transcended his pain and anger, how he could just live and be without the constant chatter from his body. It still does it to this day, and will continue to do so. No matter how much I hurt, no matter how much my arms burn, or my back aches, or my mind wanders I vow to never stop playing and expressing whatever the fuck is inside of me.
I sometimes get scared about dying young...about how I won't have all the opportunity to do things or live the lives others do. I know I am jumping ahead and I don't know anything for sure, but it does cross my mind. I guess at the end of the day I would still rather burn out then fade away. It's funny because everyone talks about it like it is nothing, but how many of them are given the chance? Not many, and I am sure none of them would like to, given the opportunity. But I wasn't given a choice in this matter I suppose. I was merely dealt the hand I was, and now I have to make do what I have. I always will...
I'll finish writing about my whole story some other time. My hands ache right now.
I sat in on a gig with my good friend and former teacher Brandon Bernstein at Red White and Bluezz in Pasadena. I had a blast and was able to see Putter Smith. Putter Smith is a bassist who played with the legendary Thelonious Monk, as well as dozens of other well know jazz musicians. We had the chance to talk a little bit about life and music. I went to a gig he played with a drummer friend of mine at UCI. I rode in Putter's car and we had a long time to chat about music and life. He said some incredible things. I really admire him for being a true musician. I had asked him about his upbringing and when he got started. He said he got his first gig at 13, and his bass only had 3 strings on it. But he kept playing and learning and would eventually blossom into an amazing artist. He told me there was a point in his life where he said that "Jazz was it", that there was nothing else on this green earth that he was meant to do. He knew it too, and said it with such conviction that I got goose bumps. He talked about being a session musician, playing classical gigs, and teaching, but at the end of the day his purpose was to express himself through jazz. He told me that his whole goal was to express whatever was in him, and in his words "People ask me what are you trying to express? I don't know what the fuck it is, all I know is that it feels awesome when it comes out. It isn't some underlying sorrow or angst inside me. But I just need to get it out." I whole heartedly agreed. I feel that way about music and I constantly feel this urge to let whatever is going on inside of me out that way. The only true form of self expression. I guess you could say I am awkward about myself, about the truth inside of me. I don't know what it is that makes me feel different or weird, but the only thing that makes me feel better is playing that damn bass.
He also told me about making it as a musician, and how he realized that when he was trying to get food stamps that he was poor. He raised 2 kids and had a wife while only playing music his whole life, but he also invested in real estate after only reading a book. If that isn't the sign of a genius I don't know what is. So I had a great time just talking with him about life and getting some good advice. I also got the chance to see him play, and man what a master. His soloing is so amazing. He really does express himself. Sitting in that bar listening to a trio of drums, bass, and trombone I felt whole. I felt connected to something bigger than me and everyone else in the room. I also got the chance to play and do some of my own expression. It sucks sometimes that the only thing in life we want to do we can't.
I met a guy in the UCLA psych ward who had really bad spine problems. Apparently he had been hit by a truck on his motorcycle when he was 22 and was in constant pain ever seen. He looked mean as hell when I saw him but I soon realized that the constant grimace on his face wasn't from anger, but from the constant pain he was in. We talked a lot about music. He told me that he worked as a grip in movies in Hollywood, had a wife and 2 kids. He just got tired of dealing with the pain and called his parents and said he was done. So they took him to UCLA and tried to get him some help. He loved music too, and he said it was the only thing that he wanted to do besides be a father. He brought in his guitar and played some; I could tell that it hurt to pick it up, it hurt to think about the notes, it hurt to move his fingers, but he did it anyways. Because the pain was worth the feeling he got from it. At that time I couldn't really use my right arm, kind of like now, so I really understood him. I really understood how the music transcended his pain and anger, how he could just live and be without the constant chatter from his body. It still does it to this day, and will continue to do so. No matter how much I hurt, no matter how much my arms burn, or my back aches, or my mind wanders I vow to never stop playing and expressing whatever the fuck is inside of me.
I sometimes get scared about dying young...about how I won't have all the opportunity to do things or live the lives others do. I know I am jumping ahead and I don't know anything for sure, but it does cross my mind. I guess at the end of the day I would still rather burn out then fade away. It's funny because everyone talks about it like it is nothing, but how many of them are given the chance? Not many, and I am sure none of them would like to, given the opportunity. But I wasn't given a choice in this matter I suppose. I was merely dealt the hand I was, and now I have to make do what I have. I always will...
I'll finish writing about my whole story some other time. My hands ache right now.
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