Broken Images and Flashing Colors

Why is it that most every morning i wake up unable to recount my dreams? I know I dream, no doubt i do, seldom lucidly yet always nonlinear and random to the utmost in there nature. They mainly comprise of jumbled thoughts, splintered images, and undecipherable sounds and spoken words that tend to sprawl out in front of my self conscious in the depths of REM. I remember colors that flash in my mind's eye like transparent bands of luminescent rays; metallic green, neon purple or the kind or orange red that emanates from a desolate street lamp in the middle of a pitch black expanse of road.
-On occasion i will catch a glimpse of a recognizable face or a familiar physique walking next to me or at the other end of a crowded hotel lobby, I may even exchange some form of garbled dialogue or a passing glance will lock our vision on each other for a fraction, only to see the notable figure transform to vapor. The very best of dreams, the ones worth recalling to this retched blog which no one reads (save one marvelous and understanding soul who shares in the release provided by opening up ones true thoughts on paper or via blog) are those which take place in serene landscapes or on far away secluded stretches of coast, where I lay idly watching the waves and clouds roll by like a train that never seems to reveal its last car until it rounds the final bend in the tracks.
These are the dreams that keep me socked in underneath my sheets and glues to my pillow long after the shrieks and whistles have ripped the silence of my room. They leave my mind feeling light, almost high in a sense, because I cannot recall any of my propensities for anxious thought or critical introspective reasoning which occur inside me at times for no apparent reason at all other than my preconceived notion that I am standing stagnant in a moving space that I perceive to be passing me at breakneck speed.
"Why such thoughts", i think. There is so much to be had and undertaken yet in this life. I have my family, i have my friends, i have the people i hold in high esteem and those i hold close to my heart because they share and accept the way i think and hold fast to those tried and true values of life that serve to show how kind and generous people are capable of being. I find supreme peace with realizations like these. This state of inner happiness is not in any way dissimilar to the way i feel after the best of dreams when i can wake up to the bright morning sunlight illuminating the walls of my room and think to myself that there are no conceptualized expectations for myself or for the hours of the day ahead.
-Well, nothing else to do but walk outside, enjoy the thousands of individual moments in my own time and continue to dream in broken images and flashing colors.

The Sun the Wind and the waves

Where has the fire gone? My body is lacking warmth. I am Set adrift on an oceanic conveyerbelt, set lose among the churning waves of disillusion and adversity. This is not half of what i had expected this trip to be, not even close to my first perceived notion. Now it has all culminated in The End , the road has been traverced and the ride has come to a close, i recall that connection we shared at the start with that first illusive glimps of what was to come through the shimmering reflection in your eyes. My greatest comfort and my fountain of release comes from the unequivical understanding that every day the sun will rise to heat the planets surface the heat will produce the wind and the wind will propel the waves that meander across the expansive marine landscape like trains of energy so as to focusing their power on the place where the land ends and the sea begins. I have the insight enough to come to an understanding that everything that is in being or inside of the collective consciousness of humanity at this moment in time will eventually cease to exist. All but these three; The Sun, The Wind, and The Waves.

Summer is upon us

I know the feeling all too well,

Waking up at my leisure and sending thoughts of school to hell.

Summer is upon us and it feels good to say,

that i really have nothing planed for this day

because expecting anything with clear skies overhead,

and sun shining leads to broken promises and dread.

Its really not my thing to rhyme,

but thanks to summer i will find the time

to try and give this life some meaning of impromptu reason

to go along with the activities and festivities of the season.

Less Clutter

I need to start using bigger notebooks.

Every time i sit down and collect my thoughts in my notepads and leaflet books i always run into the same pesky dilemma. My handwriting is indecipherable when crammed into such a small space. The majority of my writing is usually done while sitting on my balcony or overlooking my garden, all the time without a table or a suitable stable platform which is recommended to gain the leverage necessary to create neat writing, so often times i am literally unable to read my own writing. Im over this crap, time to bust out the real notebook, Im talking college ruled, spiral, fall asleep on when my Science teacher rants about the human skeletal structure notebook.

I was in the middle of writing a poem about Marie when I began to lose track due to my perpetually cluttered way of thinking and inability to properly rhyme words, so naturally I was bound to trip up. Then again, I do find it a challenge to recount the time spent with my darling Marie because there is quite frequently too much to convey in one scribe of text. It renders my words at a loss when i think of the way she laughs when i mention an absurd notion in my head because i can tell that she radiates the purest form of joy, the kind that draws me closer to her like a white hot lamp draws a moth to its luminescence on a moonless night as well as the upwelling in the center of my chest when i know that she will again be the brightness of my day by sharing her own thoughts with me in drawn out phone conversations that no matter the langth, i cant help but wish they could last just a bit longer. The times with Marie I find the most difficult to describe, however are those in which we discovered something inside of each other's hearts that show us that this lonely and rugged road which we travel need not be walked alone. To walk alone is a burden which is measured in false hope and disillusioned ideas, and to walk with a partner is to share an intimate bond of loving compassion and understanding that would be worth far more than every lost treasure buried in the passing sand of time. This road is not highway with pitstops and exits or speed limits or signs that tell us how much further to the next rest area, only a simple path with lots of mile markers. I am going to go ahead and mark this as another stake in the ground to represent how far away i have come since my humble road began, where the next will go and how far it will read is anyones guess, but i can only hope that the thought of it helps me to clear my mind.

To my loyal reader(s) {optimism is key when you have a limited following, or no following at all in my case} i say good night and happy trails.

Dismal Evening Weather

It is such a sad night, this evening's weather is bringing me down. Dreary clouds overhead bring to this cool June night the appearance and feel of a murky October sky. My feelings are dimmed with grim realizations and harsh realities on nights like these when the sky turns such a dingy color of darkening gray. They are not easy feelings in any sense; clouded expectations and tens notions threaten to derail my train of thought with the very foreboding blackness that now drapes the skies above. It is as if I was transported back through the passage of time to a similarly dark and bleak mid autumn twilight and I know by the sinking feeling in the pit of my chest as to why. My heart yearns for The End, but my mind is swiftly racing back to the beginning.

Canvas @ the House of Blues

My old friend Dolloras Knight is the front woman of a very hip pop indi band that preforms a variety of grooving mellodies and powerfull harmonic ballods. When i first recieved their demo CD I was less than impressed. What I heard was a mesh of generic guitar and piano tunes and unspecific harmonizing. Naturally my expectations were not all that high when i walked into the House of Blues Anaheim last Friday night to watch the band open for Berlin (think Tom Cruse and Kelly McGillis in Top Gun). Up until that point I had never actually set foot inside of the House and I was quite surprised at how compact and tight everything was. The floor and pit were jammed into an area which i perceived to be no larger that the average boxing ring, but the ceiling towered overhead and the row of seats on the second deck crowned the perimeter of the outer walls of the enclosed lower stage area. Although small, the venue did offer an unparalleled intimacy between the audience and the band. While in the pit, one had the impression that the band was playing to them directly and not just to the 300 others which crowded into the crammed pit section with drinks spilling and bodies bouncing off of each other.

I arrived well into the set and i was immediately taken aback by the realization that Canvas was not performance acoustically, but rather with heavy percussion, amplified guitar and the occasional but always welcome sporadic chimes and sounds of a synthesizer. I was unable to ascertain the names of all the songs played, but i can say that the first impression i received of the harmonization taking place bared a very similar style to that of the mid 90's Dixie Chicks, just not as country, yet very powerful. The next song was one governed by a soothing piano tune. The vocals took on a sound that to me resembled Fleetwood Mack with background sounds that characterize the best traits of Independent genre music, along with a hard drum beat. Although the vocals had moments of resemblance to a myriad of artists i could not deny the way in which the voices i heard were so unique and above all the haunting vocalizations that i could only compare with My Morning Jacket's Jim James. Then came the haunting rendition of "Crazy", written by Gnarls Barkly, but Canvas made the popular tune refreshingly incompatible trough the use of large scale harmonization and a funky guitar and synth groove that left me wondering if i was watching a first class indi-folk band or an old friend up on that stage.

Over all, the songs I heard preformed by Canvas left quite an impression on me and made me realize how important it really is to view music with nothing less than a completely open mind. Although this band is young, they have quite a bit of potential and a formidable amount of Groove to play with. You know a band put on a great performance when you can still hear the harmonies of their songs reverberating in your memory even days after leaving the auditorium, and that is exactly the impression that was left on me by Canvas.

Long time comming

Last night i ate some infected Lasogna and for the past 7 hours I have been afflicted by stomach pains and some not so nice looking stool. Any how itt has been a rather long time since my last post, and some of my more ravinous followers (you know who you are) have been asking me to make some new posts. Here goes....