Hands down – I’m too proud for love, But with eyes shut, It’s you I’m thinking of. Eye to eye, Thigh to Thigh, I let go. And for you I keep my legs apart, And forget about my tainted heart

I’ve been feeling like a bit of a social-grandma since uni has officially started once again, and I’ve been having quiet nights in like a normal person. Maybe I just used to party too hard “when I was younger”, and thus anything short of going out all the time seems like a reclusive thing to do. Being part of the jazz department, my classes and timetable are still not 100% confirmed yet, and it’s an annoying, growing source of stress. Ironic how everyone else loves the “first week back because it’s so relaxed”, yet I knew mine wouldn’t be, and it hasn’t been indeed.

Highlight of my first week back at uni was getting to see Jack DeJohnette on Friday, where he did a public workshop and a Q&A session. I managed to get a photo with him, but it’s very unflattering so I’m not going to post it here, haha.

The week’s main event on the menu, however, was the boy’s 21st birthday party last night. I didn’t take that many photos because I couldn’t be bothered carrying my camera around, so it was abandoned in his room in the company of the dog for hours instead. Although I must admit that most of the following photos were taken whilst I wasn’t on the sober side of things, so nothing is particularly amazing, from a photographic standpoint. But who cares – it was an amazing night for all involved, and that’s what matters more.

Photos from last night:

Inhaling helium is so much
Less
effective when
no longer so
Young

with Party-glazed eyes I scanned the room
and the source of
Contrast
is
Him.

Louder than high,
our voices
the word She
Repeated, repeated. Repeated.
and then again.

and when his speech
Acknowledged me and the
Whole.
Room.
Turned.
my cheeks flushed a pink
more rouge than my new lipstick
which we then shared.

Dim.
the romance of candlelit corners
and ferry-lit seams of the room.

Effortless,
he extinguished the flames which
we are taught, represents the years, his years.
We’re not supposed to count the years
but make the years count –
and yet, who isn’t counting?

/// /// /// // // /// /////

By this point in time I
was no longer aware of much else

and was facing completely the
Wrong way.
But it was funny to see things from
the cramped corner, in which I had to blow out a candle
just to stand in.

It’s obvious just how unusual last night was for me, from the sheer fact that I even forgot to have some cake.

 

 

This picture was just too… uhh yeaaah… to not put up.

I didn’t take either of the following pictures, but it seems that the men of that household are both capable of making me look nice in a photograph. Something I don’t say often. At all.

taken by his dad.

by the boy:
the morning after.

The Twist (I want to spell it as Twissst)

I’ve now got a backlog of photos from the three birthdays I’ve been bombarded with over the past couple of days, but I now doubt that any of them will ever see the light of day unless I get very, very bored whilst on holiday. There are so many things clogging my mind that I don’t know where to start – but in exactly 7 days’ time all my jazz assessments will be OVER, signaling the end of my first year of university. I have mixed feelings about this, because I’ve just been so mentally drained and distracted this year that I’m not doing anywhere near as well as I would have liked – which is why I’m really looking forward to summer when I can recuperate and catch up.

Completely irrelevantly, something that’s crossed my mind several times in female bathrooms: everyone except for me and members of my family use the hand dryer. I’ve never used it because my mum brought me up telling me “so you’ve just washed your hands with soap, now why would you want to blow a bunch of germs back onto your hands?!” and taught me to find the least-touched parts of toilet door handles, etc. I’m not too sure about the whole “you’re attaining germs by using the hand dryer” idea, but it’s just been such a habit. Plus, those things are damn loud and I don’t like the idea of having hot air blown onto me anyway – but people always look at me funny when I just shake my hands dry or something. It’s just one of those things that I think is definitely nurture over nature; such as my thing for beer and whiskeys, and disliking sweeter alcoholic drinks.

Photo is from Lottie’s birthday dinner last week. The giant burger and that beer made me very, very full. Bloated, even. Urghh.

As for the thing about the twist. Maybe I’ll write a song about it. I’ve got all this stuff bottled up I need to write into proper songs, rather than just little snippets of ideas. Those are awfully frustrating and get locked in notebooks and see the occasional scrawl and smeared black ink. Romance lives on too bleakly when only expressed on paper.

Your eyes say the things you won’t

A couple of weeks ago I got hired to shoot a band that a couple of my mates from jazz school play in; ironically (although, kind of characteristic of me, I guess), my favourite shots aren’t the “picture-perfect” ones, and are instead the more experimental shots I took towards the end of the set. Some people might say that these are merely flukes, chance shots I got by fiddling with slow shutter speed or smaller apertures for bigger depth of field thus forcing longer exposure times – partly true – but I must say that these aren’t merely the result of “chance” and play. I’m not sure where my interest in trying out different effects spawned from, but I remember the first gig that I really tried this on was the Animal Collective show at the Powerstation at the end of last year, but I hadn’t really given it conscious thought much since then. If anything, I think the influence is mostly based on the idea of trying to capture a double-exposure-like effect on the digital medium, without the use of photoshop.

I’ve actually got a roll of film floating around in my room somewhere that I’d done some double exposure on, but I haven’t been bothered to get it processed yet. For one, the only place in town where I can get that type of film processed at isn’t anywhere near my daily commutes; not to mention it’s not cheap.

Anyway, here are the shots – I haven’t done much editing besides making them black and white. Just cos y’know, I’m not a big fan of this particular purpley-pink light they used on stage that night:

I should really get off the internet and work on my assessments now, but I’m way too good at procrastination. I have at least one assessment/test/assignment every week until October 29th. I can’t wait for that day – it will mean hell on earth is over, I am alive and that I will have completed 1/3 of my bachelor’s degree. Yes please.

Randomly though, whilst lyric-scribbling the other night, the line “Your eyes say the things you won’t” (title of this post) reminded me of Radiohead’s line from There There: “just because you feel it doesn’t mean it’s there”. Sometimes all the speculation and self-torture in the world means nothing without the validation from a particular, spectacular person. Sometimes I’d prefer all the airy-fairy things to end, and things to be black and white, but isn’t this part of the package of “Joys & Pains of Youth”? And just admit it, it’s not quite as lip-bitingly exciting and dramatic if things were spelled out to the letter. But all hail the mighty mighty, they are still right through and through when they say “we are accidents/waiting waiting to happen”.

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:

New Rules: I’m learning to be laid back about certain things

I can’t stop listening to Kele Okereke’s new album, The Boxer. Being such an avid Bloc Party fan, I’d been very curious as to what Kele’s solo album would sound like. To me it’s like listening to Bloc Party, but with less guitar and grunt, more dancey beats, plus the same lyrical ingenuity that I will quote over and over (ref to title of blog!).

Guilty indulgences aside, the thing that I never feel guilt for splurging copious amounts of money on = books. I’m sure that women the world over will know exactly what I’m on about when I describe the slow, creeping guilt that emerges after a materialistic purchase. Clothing, shoes, magazines, even if it was chocolate, or just some other silly little thing that you weren’t quite completely in love with, and definitely didn’t need. But that feeling never occurs when I buy books. I once bought a $64 hardback adventure novel, just because I couldn’t wait for the library system to offer me the next installment penned by Matthew Reilly – especially after an excruciating cliff hanger! Luckily my special lady-friend works at the local bookstore and helps me out with her 30% staff discounts – which also came in handy yesterday when I decided to buy a $95 book on Jazz: A history of America’s Music. What also helps is that, when I buy books, often my parents will offer to pay for them, if they are present; as well as the fact that I simply don’t need to justify any book purchases – but can easily do so. I mean, surely it’s a given that since I’m spending my bachelor’s degree on learning jazz performance that surely I need to become thoroughly familiar with the ins-and-outs of its history and development through the ages. Not to mention, this semester I also have a compulsory jazz history paper anyway.

Specifics aside, I’m sure many people can relate to the self-righteously intellectual feeling that comes with buying a book. It feels like it adds to me and the growth of my mind as a whole. Sure, you have to read it first, but buying a book generally guarantees that no matter how long I put it off for, eventually I will read it. The same can’t be said for books that I get out from the library: I have a tendency to get too greedy at the library (come on, it’s free), as well as judge a book by it’s cover. Also, the best and most popular books always seem to be unavailable at the library anyway, so unless I’d requested a book, it’s never what I’d really like to read.

Does anyone else do this? Or feel like this too?

I really need to go run some scales on the double bass now because semester two is starting on Monday (impending blisters in the week, I just know it). It’s sad that class hasn’t even started yet and already I am longing for the summer holidays in November already!

Four random photos that all somehow have one thing in common (guesses?):


David’s mini birthday I made him and took along to his farewell party.

The cake again, under a very erotic looking red light. The cool shade that goes with it wasn’t in sight. + Having lunch at the Sydney waterfront: view behind me reflected off the back of a Canon 50d.

The new lights I bought in Sydney and fiiiinally put up in my room. And my beloved poster.

Common thread amongst the photos: all taken by the family buddy, Mr Canon IXUS950IS.

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