don't look at me... i'm only breathing.

as always, my title is stolen from the lyrics of the song i'm listening to. its a cool collection of words though, yes?

its raining outside right now. it sounds like the earth is crying; its very weepy. i'm listening to a band that i absolutely love- the national. i have listened to their cd, "boxer", more times than any other cd, first because its the only cd in my car when i'm too lazy to insert my ipod, and secondly, because i happen to love them!

i got inspired to buy more of them tonite, as i was given itunes giftcard[S!] for christmas, so i'm enjoying it now. and being overwhelmed by the choices...

i was given a camera for christmas. i can't believe it. not just my dream camera, but a manual as well. i can learn to make photos with another tool. i have missed taking them so badly. i cannot wait to get into the zone and make some lovely works of art. my dad spoils me. i'm so blessed to be so loved by him.

sometimes i try to decide which key is the saddest of them all--- at times, b minor is satisfactory in this category. i always choose d minor first, followed by a minor, of course. b is so dry, though, and hollow. its hard to say for sure. all of this to simply state that i like the song i'm listening to, layered in haunting strings, unpredictable vocals, interesting percussion, and nicely timed b minor chords on a guitar.

i keep staying up until ridiculous hours. but its so much fun. and then i wonder why i look terrible upon waking. what the heck?

today the child, ranae and i took a ramble upward toward the tip of our state into portland's outskirts. we didn't shop much, though. we simply sat in a coffee shop talking, watching and speculating. it takes a certain type of friendship to engage this way- family that's not by blood, really. its a rare blessing to have these relationships in your life. it was a nice way to spend a sunday. or any day.

after that, ranae introduced us to this awesome asian market with food, gifts, everything. it was extremely entertaining.

its time to face reality- the week is here. the weekend is over. darn.

i am now in the key of f major, speckled with g minor as well... its great.
i remain,
insane.
and
-c

"let me come over, i can waste your time, i'm bored..."

i am overwhelmed by the big picture because i get so caught up with all the details.

so, the big picture is often not completed because i get so side-tracked...

augh! this is a bad realization, as you stand and ponder, staring at half-washed dishes in a spotless sink... neatly folded clothing on a dusty table.... or perfectly arranged books in the middle of a massive pile of other junk.

i walk the path of life every day with very bad vision, that only allows me to see about 6 inches in front of my face, as long as i wear my glasses or contacts. i think this is a good image of how i see my life, mentally. i can only see a small bit in front of me, because its so complex with all these miniscule important factors that invade my consciousness.

coffee adds to it...

and i can't take any photographs right now so my eyes are seeing all this beauty and the artist in me is unable to express it by sharing....

ok. enough said.

-i played in portland last night with valeri.
-we made it through the snow and winterwonderland...
-God gave me yesterday what i desperately needed.
-plus music and friends...

the free drink and dinner wasn't too bad either.

awesome:)

"...everyone you love, is already gone, too early."

Listening to a song in C minor, in all its ability to haunt you with that certain tone, I become lost, transferred. It has been a long time since I've been in this key, since I tend to favor D minor, and lately, A minor. When we discover new tunes to our liking, it's rare that they're in a key of our choice anyhow.
..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
I remember being obsessed with anything melancholy and minor when I was about 8 and still new to the piano. Anything that would catch my ear with a hollow flavor was immediately added to my growing list of likes.

The first time I heard "Green Sleeves" as a kid, I was hooked. I wasn't able to be satisfied until I hunted it out on my piano keys. After that I owned the song, and still do; it is inside my soul.

Music is incredible. When I find a slice of free time to spare, my great thrill is to pick through my library, in hope of a new acquantance or refinding an old friend.

I so wish that I might have known my grandfather, as he was an excellent jazz musician, and I think we would have connected at that level to a high degree. However, our times we not parallel, or even able to overlap with one another's steps…

My only memory of him is when I was young, new at the piano. My dad asked Jimmy, my grandpa, to play for me, but he wouldn't. I'm not sure why, I think he was embarassed. I don't hold it against him, I never did, but I do wish he would have let me listen.

By the time I am realizing all this, REALLY realizing, he is long gone.

Melancholy strains of a song in E minor are distracting my thoughts, so I'll stop now...

"don't interrupt me."

my thoughts screeched... to a halt.

again....

"My head plays it over and over,
Don't interupt me."
"all dolled up in straps", the national


yes, this happens to us all. irritating, yes. confusing as well, and disorienting. when one is interrupted from the thoughts ocurring at that moment, the result is most often bewildered frustration. i'm sure we have all stepped in this place.

crisp and cold, clean and bare; sunfilled at times---- it has been a lovely three weeks. decemeber, in all of her four days, has graced us with unusually pleasant existance.

surely we will awake from the bliss of it all and find ourselves drenched in a puddle of reality: blunt, as our dreams swim about in the pools by our feet. afterall, it IS oregon.

once again, our planet has fallen asleep for a season. for a few months, she is aware of her age: old. daylight is scarce in the afternoon, passing as it unfolds, and mornings late.

every so often you find yourself forced to stare into the face of a mass of what has passed and been hidden away; swept under the rug i suppose, until this very moment you are now caught up in... memory stirs, emotion is tapped, and pain again. i once read in a book that one of the characters, a complete artist, experienced beauty and ugliness to such a high degree that he was almost unable to endure the pain of watching others suffer and die.

i think about that character often. when you are an artist, you feel/see/and hear everything around you to its fullest extent. it can be an ultimate blessing and a crippling curse.

however, life is life. happening regardless of your person- artist, scientist, man, woman, child... its all happening. now.

and i,
remain,
insane.
-c