…the beautiful art of sound.

There’s a thunder in our hearts

Sometimes I just want to post a picture with no words. And sometimes I want to post just a single, striking line with no explanation. But I always think far too much to be able to do that.

The second half of semester 2 starts tomorrow – actually, by now it’s today – and I don’t feel ready at all. I haven’t done a fraction of the things I had wanted to do during this 2-week break – sure unforeseeable circumstances struck up, but I was also lazy. At the moment I also have a sinus and throat infection and dealing with it is just a pain. Not to mention last night we had a scare with the cat being ill and had to take him to the afterhours vet clinic and pay a hefty sum for him to be anesthetised   so they could look down his throat to see whether there’s something stuck or if it’s infected or both. Turns out it’s just infected, and apparently it IS possible the same bacteria plaguing me could have done it to him. Yikes. I only managed to get him home at 3.30am which didn’t help my sleeping pattern at all.

Irrelevantly though, I’ve been wanting to post these two moments of joy:

Left: A photo my mum took of my sister and I jumping on a bridge in Sydney. Looking at it really makes me miss school athletics days where I got to do high jump. I always made the “qualifying” jump but then bunged out and there was always a certain height that my foot didn’t want to get over.
Right: The present that I spent a lot of time thinking about and wrapping for W.’s (sic) 21st, and I put the card in there at the bottom too. I’ve even abbreviated his initials to the bare minimum, so unknowing people can always wonder who my long-time adored is.

My friend Lottie is crazy for the Arctic Monkeys and Alexa Chung, and I just can’t resist posting this, a love note from Alex Turner to Alexa: “My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss. And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.” This is the precise reason that I think great lyricists are underrated. I can’t think of a less pretentious and more realistic way of being so romantic in words. He hasn’t used any flamboyant adjectives, simply described and put it in such a way that is so heart-melting. This is also the exact reason why I love men who are good with words. I don’t think I could ever date anyone who tells me every other sentence that he doesn’t understand a word I used.

Something I wrote the other night, simply because I just had to use the word “bilocation”, although it might be a little… misused – I hear that’s called artistic license, haha:

You are
A rare occurance
When you talk
I want to turn you up.

You are
A bilocation
When you’re here
I never have you to myself.

You are
Inside, outside
Everywhere to me.
The places I go
And the people I see
The art I adore
And the songs that I sing:
You are
Too fucking much to me.

Left awake to the clocks, I think I’ve found you out

I’m not going to lie, I’ve got a couple of drafts half composed but never got around to finishing. As usual, my 2-week break has been fleeting, and in merely a couple days’ time I will be thrown back into the business end of the semester – and I am FREAKING OUT. And once again, I’ve been sidetracked since opening up this new draft and have completely forgotten what I was going to write about.

Okay, here’s something – my friend Takuma and I had a huuuge talk about everything and anything a while ago before he moved to New Orleans to attend Tulane. One of the things that we discussed (and I can’t remember where he had read or seen something about this) was the fact that, us people spend too much time thinking about life, about the past, present and future, rather than doing anything. So technically, based on this logic, me sitting here and typing away about this, is a waste of time, because I’m being far too introspective* and wasting time that could be better spent actually living rather than thinking about living. I see the merits of this view, but I can’t help but do it anyway. Can we really appreciate our lives if we never stop and pause to think how far we’ve come? But isn’t it a little self-destructive (yes, I’m taking the pessimistic route, I could have said hopeful, exciting instead) to then have to face the huge fear of the unknown future that stands before us? Or to contemplate how much work, effort, time and sweats we must invest before we reach our next intended goal/destination? Then again, based on the previous argument, should we maybe stop thinking about where we are going, altogether? And just be on our way?

But hold on, if we just lived on and on without ever thinking where we want our lives to lead us, does this mean we will live a more spontaneous, free-spirited and content life without stressing of “intended destinations” (because we all know things never go to plan, and roads crisscross more than we’d like)? Then again, where will the contentment and feeling of satisfaction, of achievement come from if we hadn’t aimed for anything in the first place? Is the plan to have no plan?

When people ask me what I am going to do for the rest of my life, or career – and trust me, as a music major they ask me quite often – I really am not quite sure what to say. Even to the closest of people, I don’t know how to explain to them that half the plan is to have no plan, just a general direction.

I was going to delve into this more but ended up going to bed after writing the above paragraph, since it was around 5am by then. A lot of things are ever-increasingly confusing me and bugging me, I wish it was all a bit more clear-cut. They say business and pleasure shouldn’t mix – well that’s not going to work for me.

Finally looked through some of the photos I took in Sydney back in June/July – I really love these two. The first is one of Liv in the corridor of the hotel; the latter is of Liv and Mum on a bridge over the motorway at night. I’m surprised I managed to do it at long last, but that photo is EXACTLY how I wanted it to look – with the original shot in the middle and the rest stretching out – kind of relating to what I mentioned in my last post, this is like, two moments in one moment.

Incoming, out clubbin’, not lovin’, slow your body down

I think I’ve run out of farewells for the year. Saying goodbye for 1-2 years to one of my closest friends, Takuma the other night was extremely difficult – he’s gone to study in New Orleans and neither of us can afford a visit within a year, I think. On top of that, 6 days ago I had to send my sister off at the airport, without knowing if the next time I see her is for Christmas this year, or worse (and more likely) to be in a year’s time, during the US summer season, when I will be a year older, and she will be turning 18. Thoughts like that are freaking me out so bad – I’m not going to be a teenager the next time I see my sister! I’ve been having difficulty over the past week living by myself, contemplating the fact that now, the four members of my immediate family are spread over 3 countries. It’s really hitting me: I will NEVER live with my sister again. I know this is all normal and part of growing up, but it just seems kind of whacked out she’s moved across the Pacific Ocean on a massively glamourous 4-year scholarship to play Division 1 College Golf, but I’m the older sibling and I haven’t even moved out of home yet! This whole “end of an era”, aka END OF MY CHILDHOOD thing is seriously messing with my mind. Despite the fact that for years it’s really only been a pseudo-childhood, it was much nicer than the huge push into the deep end of a very cold and icy pool. Sea, even.

Although I’ve only been at university since March (the NZ academic school year is different to the northern hemisphere, school years don’t cross calendrical years), it feels like I’ve been here forever. It’s scary thinking that in 2 months’ time I will have completed 1/3 of my Bachelor degree. Even scarier wondering what comes after, but extremely exciting contemplating all the traveling that I want to do – and all the people that I know scattered all over the world who have offered me “couch” accommodation just adds to the excitement.

In the meantime, this is how I spent Friday night procrastinating from practising for my recital tomorrow night: low light phone snaps by Elvia.

Black Motel caged-back dress. She convinced me to wear the shorter one of my two new dresses, over the mesh Asos one. Powerwalking from her apartment near the Sky Tower, we fended off drooling and drunk men on the streets. I was grateful for the height difference between us that allowed her to wear heels and me to stomp in my Dr Martens. The Bouncing Soles really put a bounce in my step. Winter nights are brutal to exposed backs and uncovered arms, the city air an unfriendly reminder of how inebriated we must be to ignore its scathing existence. Taking pictures whilst we are still straight and lips unsmudged by bottle tops and glass rims. They say a girl is sexiest when confident, but how much confidence is real? Leaning against the bar, girls try and skip the serving order by pouting, eyelash batting, whilst men blanket an act of confidence over a core of frenzied excitement. Classified as a depressant, I find alcohol full of connotations: suppressant, an activator, empowerment, enslavement to the lack of conscience that ensues. And for better or worse we can’t escape ourselves and the things we do or say under the influence. But I often wonder – isn’t it really that we’re under less “influence”?

At her apartment we talked about the differences between Taiwan and New Zealand – the contrast in cultures and perceived “normality”. She grew up there, whilst I grew up here. But both spending our young adult life here with different backgrounds and cultural upbringing gives us a rare view that others don’t have. I question the differences, the ones I know of but don’t live by, as she adjusts to the new set of social “normality”. It’s funny how people can come from the same place and end up so different. Or come from different places and still have so much in common. Sometimes the diversity drives me crazy, how people don’t understand, aren’t curious, don’t know to be curious, but variation is never a bad thing: “Six kinds of blue”.

Even though this last picture caught me by surprise and was a snap in a whim, I love how offguard it caught me, its blurriness being precisely as the moment was. Sometimes there isn’t a still in the moment. Does that make sense?

She asked me about the kinds of music I’m into, and showed me Taiwanese bands she’s into. There is a huge gap to bridge but I can see why that stuff sells. It’s depressingly not difficult to write and perform though, in my opinion. That is, relatively.

I swallow the sound and it swallows me whole

There is something seriously amusing about being hankered by a terrible cold – people around me either react by being super caring in wishing that I get better soon (drowning in pity!) or they stay the heck away from me; or a combination of the two. I’ve had a cold since the 26th June – yes I remember, because that’s precisely the day before I went to Australia – and it’s been in cycles of finally getting better, then being made worse by some occasion of an extremely windy day or being out too late. What can I say? I have terrible living habits. To make matters worse, the building that jazz school is located in is like a batcave breeding ground for germs. Every other person has a cold (or worse), and there is only one way to get in and out of the building, with no windows available for ventilation. So essentially, the air conditioning just swishes the germs round and round. Had a late night? You’ll probably catch something when your immunity is down the next day. Yay.

I have absolutely nothing exciting to write about, but you can fest your eyes on the Florence & The Machine photos below. The only problem with that is I had a really crap night of photography that evening, and totally buzzed out and didn’t recognise that the 2nd song had been played (there’s a standard 3 song limit in the photo pit), so I, uhh, didn’t really get much of “The Machine”. Would’ve liked a shot of the harp, but darn dead brain and light! This week has consisted of opening this draft entry up a grand total of 5 times, and posting nothing whatsoever – so I compiled a playlist instead. I don’t think I’m very good at these things. You know those sweet, music-obsessed snobs boys that spend hours making the “perfect mixtape” and pick all the right songs and arrange them all in the perfect order? Well I could never be one of them. This list isn’t reaaally in any particular order, but it sort of is. Maybe it happened by chance, oh I don’t know. I did a breakdown of it underneath though. Enjoy!

1/ I’ve never been much of a KOL fan, but I absolutely love this song. It’s a great opener, and according to Charlotte they opened their set in Auckland last year with it too. Apart from a few highlights here and there in their discography, I find most of their stuff too… “hillbilly” sounding. I don’t know how to put it any better…
2/ What can I say, as much as I enjoyed their new album, I still liked the Foals better in their first album, Antidotes – even the softer songs have a decent driving edge.
3/ I’ve been a long-time fan of The Raveonettes, and whilst they don’t quite sound like they do on this album anymore, I still enjoy their old, snappy roots. It’s so much more in your face (another track off this album comes complete with a lot of “fuck you”s. But sounds surprisingly soothing?!). They featured on my last playlist I posted as well. Anyway, I just really like the hook of this song, and the question it poses – Do you believe her?
4/ So a pseudo-ex of mine kept recommending this band to me. It was only much later that I realised that several other people have recommended them to me as well. After my internet-scouring failed, I simply nicked their album off Charlotte. Whilst this album (as far as I’ve paid attention to it, anyway) is tainted by much of the same “glaze & haze” that surrounds The Raveonette’s sound (I attribute it to production style, guitar tone and just the overall simplicity and repetitiveness of what’s actually happening musically), this song particularly stood out… because… the frontwoman is singing “I wish she was my boyfriend”.
5/ Here are are at roughly halfway in the playlist. Doesn’t this usually constitute as the hidden gems of a compilation, before the climax 3/4 of the way through? I’m not sure. Regardless, Glass Owls is a lurrrrvely band, and I’m friends with the guitarist and bass player – but that’s not why they’re on here. Despite everyone having favouritism over other tracks of theirs, this has always been one of my favourites. I can still remember the time I snuck into a bar at 16 and heard them play this song in public for the first time – before it sounded as good as this. Two drummer changes and an EP later, I still love this song. And I still swear that Tomas’ voice sounds like Julian Casablancas (hell yeahhh!) – thus I need my cold to go away so I can see them play next week/week after!
6/ Sufjan Stevens has way too many albums for me to be able to honestly say that I’ve paid attention to all of his music. But this is one of my favourites amongst the soft romantic and acoustic type. It’s just too sweet. Unfortunately the problem with songs like this is that it comes with memories of people/events. Ahhh good old music.
7/ BRMC. I don’t need to say more. Sure, they have better written songs, but this one will still be one of the most well-known, and the crowd sure enjoyed it a LOT at their concert a couple of weeks ago.
8/ I have to admit that I resisted listening to Broken Bells for a long time. Sure, it’s nice. But at the end of the album I still went back and listened to the first track. Yup, that is all.
9/ Metric has gotten a bit of bad press for that half-arsed song they have on the Eclipse soundtrack and I don’t blame critics. Apart from their best songs (and this isn’t one of them), I’m not too sure why I’m such a fan. Asides from the odd lyric that I wished I had written instead of Haines, I can see why people might not like them. Anyway, I just love the catchy way that this song begins, and carries throughout. It’s just catchy and great to drive to.
10/ Whilst it seems like I’m just putting a token jazz track on here, I promise that I’m not. This is one of my all-time jazz tracks even well before I’d decided to study jazz. I love the break down of it, and the intro/interlude parts with bass and piano. And the best part is that we’ll be performing it at our (assessed) recital on the 23rd August… in reggae style. No kidding!
11/ Last and maybe least… there is Drumming Song. It is, in all honesty, the only song on Florence’s album that I genuinely like. Hey, I tried, okay? To all those people out there who have gasped at me because I informed them that, sorry, I’m just not a fan… don’t shoot me. Yes, she can sing, and yeah alright, I can understand the appeal – but it just doesn’t really apply to me. Though I like this track because it is mesmerising, and it builds up into something. And you can listen to it on repeat (and I have) without really realising what’s happening because it seems to just go on and on. However, it is for that exact reason that I didn’t realise the 2nd song at her concert ever happened at all, because it simply blended into this one (set opener), oops. As for the rest of her music… I much more prefer the remixes and mash ups.

Florence & The Machine @ Trusts Stadium, Auckland 29th July, 2010:

You want to feel something more than I could ever bring

Rewind back two, three years ago. I was underage, incapable (most of the time) of getting into gigs, let alone getting to shoot them. I’m not too sure of precisely where my desire to do so spawned from. I suspect it’s a combination of things. For starters, there are lots of photographic projects I’ve planned and plotted in my head – but I never end up undertaking them just because it requires preparation and planning – in other words, I would’ve had to think ahead. For someone as lazy and usually uninspired as me, thinking ahead for a photo seems a bit out of whack. Especially when I’m the sort of person who likes to take spontaneous photos, often in unexpected places, of unexpected subjects. There’s a magic essence in capturing a moment in time that just doesn’t exist in a constructed setting. Even when I have constructed settings in the past for a shoot, I usually end up picking the “accidental” shots, rather than the ones I had “intended”.

When I first shot on black and white film in a Nikon F3 almost 4 years ago, I was pleasantly surprised at how much enjoyment I got from rediscovering all the things that I had merely shot in passing, in the city of Wellington.  As I didn’t get the films developed until a few months later, I hardly remembered what I had photographed, especially all the little corner snippets that I had snapped away at, without a thought at all. My mother (the term “professional photographer” here sounds daunting, but she is) has always been supportive and encouraging in anything and everything I do; but for some reason, once upon a time she tried to dissuade me from attempting concert photography. It’s “much too difficult”, she’d said. And it sure as hell is. But that is exactly why I love it. The equation – so it appear so be – is: lack of necessary thought process/laziness + spontaneity + music freak + love a good challenge = concert photography.

Fast forward a couple of years, I had an amazing Friday night. Back when I was googling concert photographers and oggling at the amazing shows they get to shoot, I stumbled across a lady called Ami Barwell. Mostly lo-fi styled stuff, shot a lot of bands that I love – made me mega jealous. I think she used to be the photographer-in-tow for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, so she has a lot of nice shots of them, and a couple of nights ago I got to have a crack at it myself.

Here are some of the shots that I liked best of BRMC and their opening band, The Checks. The problem is… I’m undecided as to whether I’m happy about them or not:

The Checks:
Can I just add – their drummer reminded me of why I used to have a thing for drummers and dated a couple. He also looks like one that I had crushed on for a long time. Shhhh. Good thing NO ONE knows who it was, ha!

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