Monday/Tuesday, 11.19.07, 1:23am
Fucking hell, I’m losing my mind, and feeling dumber by the second. I mean really – how difficult can it friggin’ *be* to grab a downloaded instrument, plug it into the super-duper fancy software and record a little bit o’ somethin’? I’m usually pretty decent at figuring things like this out, at least to the degree that I can create *something*. But – nope. I do believe I’m in over my head for the time being on this one, at least for now – but goddamnit, I’m going to get this shit working. Eventually. Apparently not tonight though, it seems..After a few hours of figuring out just a little bit more than nothing, I return to what I know. I return to words. The easy stuff.
This has what’s been going on over the past few days: I’ve recently been turned on to a site that enables me to download some of the most sophisticated uber-crazy-professional (which I am absolutely not, apparently) music creating and editing software available, and now the shit is on my computer, along with a decent drum machine or a couple, and hells – a fucking actual digital Moog synth that sounds like a hot-buttered orgasm.
I must admit that I’ve spent far too much time with the headphones on simply rolling in the delicious sounds that my MiniMoog makes and exploring them, and each time I hit on a good preset sound a whole performance scene begins to play out in this deranged noggin’ of mine. I’m actually a bit overwhelmed with the excitement of what I now have the capabilities of doing, all packed up nicely here in this beautiful little lappytop. There’s a whole dark and beautiful opera in the works, birthed by these sounds and years of wanting to create something so much more than the little things I have been – but damn! These programs were created for people who know what they’re doing, and maybe even have instruction manuals for them.
I’ve looked. No instruction online, not for the MiniMoog, and as for the other stuff, the recording and editing applications – well, it certainly *looks* like it’s written in English, and probably is – but hell, so was James Joyce. So far what I’ve been reading may as well be, except at least Joyce didn’t make you flip back and forth looking for the little non-existent buttons to find parts of the little drop-down menus that take six other drop down menus to get to before anything started to resemble something this dope could work with.
I need some kind of sound engineer to give me some learnin’. Anyone out there want to help? Knows the whole Cubase platform and can explain it to me in laymans terms? Gods, the sounds this Moog makes are so deliciously sweet, so warm, so inviting. Begging for what I can make it into, if I only knew how to use the software…
There’s something bouncing around in me head that’s pretty big – right now just the conception, but the scenes will unfold simultaneously with the music I intend to create. They feed off each other, and I feed off of them…
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Pfffft. Exhausted, woke up before the Sun had *it’s* cup of coffee this morning in order to make it to a job. It’s a bitch rolling from the eastbay to San Francisco on an early Sunday Morning, but still – good to feel needed, good to make a bit of scratch. Right on time, I was, and life goes on, my pocket a bit more padded as I left a job well done, despite another worker there who didn’t understand that the little book that came with the thing actually told you how to put the storage shed together the *right* way, in order. Really nice guy, probably about fifty-five or so, maybe sixty, and I needed him as this was definitely a two-person task, but damn, the guy needs tranquilizers. I’ve found over the years that you don’t get a job done by guessing or pounding harder if it doesn’t fit right. It was like working with a two year old jacked up on sugar… Regardless, he really was a nice guy, and as long as I kept the reigns tight, he was useful and we got what done what we needed to.
Time to sleep now. Time to fold myself onto this narrow rail of a bench, wrap myself in the comforter, and see what dreams come
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The more I look at this thing the more excited I get. This van/truck/RV thing. My beautiful home, my glorious sanctuary that I can do absolutely anything like with, design any way I wish. I know exactly where the bookshelves will go now, along with many other smaller things. I know how this is going to work, and damn, this will be an extraordinary vessel.
There’s the possibility of actual steady income for a bit, just waiting for a call. If that happens then I’ll be able to get the mechanical things done that I need to, and since, if this job comes through, things will be a bit more secure and I won’t have the ever-present concern and lack of knowledge of where the next bit o’ scratch is coming from, I’ll even be able to begin making good on some personal debts. That would fucking rock.
Dear gods, I need to get cushions in this thing. Type a little bit and my ass really starts complaining of the lack of softiness.
The cow goes mooo. The rooster goes cock-a-doodle-doo. My ass goes ouch.
~ ~ ~
Bob has WiFi now which kicks ass, and therefore I can play on the interweb in here! – Well, that was the idea, but seeing as I am inside of a big steel box, I am thankfully protected from the horrible distraction of the internet. Unless, of course, I open the window, find and stand in some odd and inevitably uncomfortable position in order to snug Clotho up to the side of the box so that my wireless card protrudes the slightest bit outside of the window, and then – and only then, can I get a connection. Hmmmm – what to do, what to do. Theoretically, I could open the door and sit on the steps, but – hells no. I prefer the door to my loverly home shut to the foot traffic that wanders by on this street. Not that there’s anything unsavory about most of the people that walk by, but I like my door shut, and I love my solitude.
Fuck it. I’m turning this whole thing into an antennae. Somehow. Played with that idea a bit just before I went out tonight, and I do believe I can make it work. Took off the plastic housing on my WiFi card revealing the antennae, grabbed a stray wire and toyed with ideas, hooking the wire to the body of the vehicle and then to my card.
It was quick, just a slap-dash test, but damn, I think it will work…
(Next eve after trying a few things; – nope, no go. Inside the beast is a wireless flatline. Frustrating as hell.)
Okay, the rest, then rest. Fun evening, good crowd at Death Guild, saw some people I hadn’t seen in a bit which was nice, one in particular… Met some other people and had good conversations with others. Great crowd, good day, lots of stuff to do tomorrow so I’m going to read a bit and then sleep.
Can’t wait until this thing gets rolling. I’m itching for another adventure – or at least to friggin’ be able to drive to San Francisco, and call that home again…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tues 11.20 9:00
Next eve, eating some delicious soup inside Bob’s place, still no interweb in the box of wireless doom, goddamnit. Since one of my favorite things to do is listen to some good music, get comfortable, sip on a drink and see what kind of crap comes out when my fingers start hitting the keys, all of it is going to be delayed. There is no real time, and my “now” is not yours. This paragraph is as close as it’s getting’ for a while, it seems.
Tomorrow (Wednesday) head to S.F. for acupuncture and to have them kick-ass nurses at SF Gen look at my leg again. They do treat me right – and it will be wonderful to never see them again, at least in that setting. I must admit, though – it’s really nice, just for those few minutes every week or so, to have someone looking after me, taking care of me…
Still wondering what’s going on for Thanksgiving.
A few more posts and then to the beast.