AUTHOR.CALHO: If I didn't write it, I would be hitch hiking cross country to Maine and then Alaska in that order. While taking frequent breaks to spread leaflets. And sit in diners. And write on things because I wasn't at a computer. I may still do that in a few years. Writing this also helps me forget about and better understand the limitations of being human, and keeps me busy enough to allow me no free time to burn the world down.

THEMATIC.ABOUT : Collapse often. The things that hold people together and hold them apart and scatter brains. The things that make thoughts go boom. The things that ooh and aah and [expletive deleted]. Sometimes poking around the margins where responsibility ends and the only one to look to is the Original Equipment Manufacturer and say "but, I already pressed 9 for more options and the menus are exactly the same. Can you just replace it?" The answer will be: "please hold." Sometimes hanging out in dark corners. Sometimes following the train tracks. Looking for ways out and ways in and all the while sharing the things seen and heard and done and drawn and written and scorched and healed and teased and caged and dreamed along the way.

2/12/15

Forgotten Pieces of Processes

One part of the process I always have to remember that is very important in life inside and outside of my heart and my mind is music.  Not just music like noises or radio or background so that I can better divide and discern what might be real and what is artifact or relic or error, but actively listening to and pulling apart and submersing myself in music.  It's not difficult to forget, but listening to music is incredibly important in my life.  Sitting down to paper my pencil or pen or whatever is in my hand and ready to create falls dead.  Instant death.  Sometimes I can move things along and create a corpse or a rock or a tree or a dancer or lover or a struggle, but it is lifeless.  Stale.  Imagine being beyond death to a place where everything is dimensionless.  I wonder where it comes from and I tinker with my process or my thoughts or turn the idea around to another side and hold it up to the light to see if anything sparks inside.  Listening to music and breathing it in helps tremendously.   I will run over the same sounds over and over again, picking them clean until the only thing left is a place holder in my music library and my mind settles inside that hole, quite comfortable, stable, and slowly, one replay at a time, dying.  It's not easy to forget, but I do forget that a valuable piece of the process is pouring in unfamiliar music to help keep the system turning with any degree of fidelity.

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