Music and the Mind

Has anyone really took notice of just how much music there is in the world? If one were to record all of it into a computer, it would be countless terabytes and none of us could live long enought to listen to it all.

That's quite a bit.

So why is there so much music? Why do we, when doing some manual project such as tree-house building, gardening, writing and other creative or practical tasks, seem to have a need for auditory stimulis? Are we seeking to block out our minds' attempts to cycle through our various concerns? Is it to establish a rhythm to match our work? A mood setter?

I think all of the above apply, and then some.

I have music playing while working on the Writing Project. Sometimes there are soundtracks to good movies, like "Batman Begins" and the "Dark Knight". Other times it's the music of Steve Roach, (a link to his site is right to the right of this blog.)

But it's always music that sets the tone, environment and attitude for the situations in the story. Each character has a theme music piece as does each social group. Obviously, I use music for inspiration.

And here's another thing about me and the Writing Project: I do not like music with english lyrics. They're distracting and cause a jarring sensation between the need to suddenly write tons of poetry and the story within the Project. However, music with lyrics done in a different language do not affect me so much because then the voices are just another instrument.

I know that none of what I had just written does not answer the original question so much. Perhaps it's a mystery to be solved by the individual for the individual rather than a collective and generalizing explaination.

What do any of you think?

Though computers are handy. . .

Though I do not have Human skulls on my writing desk, I can relate to this picture due to the mix of the archaic and the mordern. How many young people of today know how to look through a phone book?

I've been having some serious difficulties with my computer, upon which is the Writing Project, and I can say with confidence that when the machine gives up its last gasp, I will have lost nothing important. Remember, I hand write everything, (except these blogs.) I also have all the CDs of my music and a sterio on which to play them.

However, without a computer my time on the web writing these blogs and E-mailing friends will be cut out completely. . . until I get a new machine.

For anyone familiar with the Dune series written by the late Frank Herbert, you will understand the term, "hydrolic dependancy." The Chinese came up with it a thousand years before the Romans. Build conduits where running water is distributed to the populace in such a fashion as to make going to the well or stream or river on a daily basis for water no longer necessary. After only one generation, going to the well, stream or river is considered "out-moded" and a waste of time. When the Goths, led by Aleric, sacked Rome, one of the things they did was destroy the conduits of free-flowing water. There was a marked social collapse. It is the same with electricity and all of the neat little gadgets our society has become reliant upon.

I will be upset if the computer dies before I get a new one, but I won't kill myself over it.

Character characteristics

Though the above picture may seem a bit disturbing, I thought that it best describes the characteristics of the characters of the Writing Project.

Earlier this week, I finally had the breakthrough that I've been long awaiting with a couple of the characters. (And about bloody time too. . .) These particular characters had appeared out of the creative ether a couple years agao, but were never fully formed. I found that I was writing around them rather than through and thus the story began to take shape based on that path. But when it came time to review other characters, the main ones, it seemed there was a bit of a block and I couldn't really figure it out. Knowing that main characters depend upon supportive or antagonistic ones, I had been blinded by the illusion that that was the only way to go.

Obviously, I was wrong.

Supportive and antagonistic characters also have a reliance upon the main, thus creating a symbiotic relationship that is one of the paramount basics of story-telling. (I think I had been sleeping through that class session way back when in school. . .)

As I had writen about before, my style of writing takes the wholistic approach rather than the linear, and yet while understanding that, I still had been linear with the characters.

Well, not now.

The characters, be they main, supportive or antagonistic, grow out of each other necessarily and naturally. To not recognize that would be the death of the Writing Project, and that, I know, would make some people very unhappy since they've been waiting and waiting and waiting. . .for the rewrite of book one, the completion of book two and the rest to follow shortly thereafter.

Oh, by the way, Bo, my dear and very patient friend, the title of the first book has changed. And it's not my fault. Maya made me do it. . .

Out of the fog. . .

Having finally come out of the fog of foolish despair, I've been energized anew for the Writing Project. Friends keeping note will be happy to know that I've begun book three full on. Chapter 1 is completed and 2 is not that far behind. Of course I realize that the rewriting of book one is not yet complete, nor is the finalization of book two any closer. But I'm very excited about the Project and so I feel strongly that it shouldn't be too much longer. I think that all I needed was an emotional kick in the ass to get me going again. It's also been helpful to finally realize that, yes, I can do two things at once in terms of going out to my favourite coffee shop to work on the rewrites and put myself out there for someone to possibly take an interest in, and then going home after a few hours to work on books three and four. That way, I'm not forever in my cave and my goals are being completed apace.

Chocolate and espresso helps too.

To be or not to be. . .

Or. . . the pros and cons of being single.

This time of year is a bit difficult because the sun is much farther south and so I suffer through a lack of light and I get lonely.

In every single relationship I've been in, there have been more cons than pros and so I've generated a list of what I do not want in a relationship. It is longer than what I do want and so I had come to the conclusion that being single is a hell of a lot easier.

Or so I thought.

Pros:

I have all the personal space and time I want, (minus the cats.) Chris, the co-dependant and Tracy and Lisa, the jealous types.

I don't have to keep my home white-glove spotless, just sanitary. Stephenie, the snob.

I don't have to tell where I'm going or how long I'll be gone. Lisa, Stephanie and Tracy, the jealous types.

I can spend time with friends without worrying about the jealous trip. Lisa, Stephenie and Tracy.

I do my own laundry. Stephenie, the snob.

I keep comfortably odd hours. Very, very odd hours. Tracy and Stephenie, the control freaks.

I watch the shows I like. Tracy, the idiot who doesn't understand Brittish humour.

I can eat what I want when I want. Tracy, the materialist control freak.

I don't have to deal with negative attitudes about everything. Tracy, the drenched wet blanket.

I am the only insecure person here. Stephenie, Tracy, Lisa. . .

I'm not self-conscious about having false teeth or hairy legs. Stephenie, the snob.

I don't have to change any aspect of myself just so the other person will shut up about what ever it is they want me to change. Stephenie and Tracy, the snob and the control freak.

I don't have to celebrate the holiday I hate most: Valantine's Day. (Icky poo mush, mush.) Tracy, the pathetic romantic who thinks that a chair full of useless gifts are the way to a person's heart.

And last but certainly the most important, I can work on my Writing Project without someone getting in its way and then getting jealous over it. Creativity keeps me sane, and every person I'd been with has always, always tried to pull me away from it. Each and every one of them. . .

Now, for the cons:

There is no one to come home to.

There is no one to be held by while watching a show.

There is no one to cook for.

There is no one to keep me sane after a bad day at work.

There is no one to look up to.

There is no one to share my creativity with.

And so, again, I have come to the conclusion that being single is best for me because there is no one out there who can or would even want to put up with me.

It's going to be a long winter.

Another dimension of the bizzare. . .

Once upon a time, my neice and I were strolling innocently through the Ross Creek Cedars when, suddenly we stepped into another forest that looked much like the one we had left. Whereas in the previous forest there were flora and fauna that kept to themselves, this grove had within it entities that did not. As we tred carefully past the giant trees that seemed to bend a long hard look to our presence, tree clams suddenly opened their maws and reached for our faces!

We ran and ran, looking for the exit but eventually finding none. So we took up fallen sticks with which to defend ourselves and proceeded with extreme caution.

As we continued slowly on our trek, we encountered cave-like openings within some of the trees. Cautiously, we peered inside and found to our horror several people who had been taken in and wrapped in thick webs, and who were fiercely guarded by more tree clams who giggled diabolically and had short little legs.

Again we ran and frantically searched for a way out, yet still found none.

We then decided to make a small camp as night was encroaching across the sky. A small fire going, (made with wood not related to the animated trees), we sat around it and listened to the night.

It was very quiet. Too quiet, and we began to fear for our very lives. Would the tree clams hunt after us while we slept? Would the trees gather our slumbering bodies with their crawling roots? These and other questions kept our eyes wide open and our hearts drumming.

But it remained very quiet within this dark place and we had no way of knowing what was planned for us.

Then hunger overcame our fear and so we cooked up a little meal and ate in silence, all the while clutching our meagre defence of sticks.

Suddenly, something landed with a thump in the fire, and when we looked, we saw a large pinecone. Knowing what happens to pinecones in fire, we jumped up and stepped back a fair distance for safety.

Nothing happened. We looked at each other and decided to wait it out a little more. But still, nothing happened in the quiet of the forest night.

Then we heard it. Faint at first, there was what sounded like laughter, a high chirping sound that echoed all around. It grew louder, and then louder still until, suddenly, we were surrounded by ninja squirrels with light sabres. They circled us in a dance-like formation, waving those terrible wands at us and laughing maniacally. Then more pinecones fell from above, each one aimed at our heads with uncanny precision until, finally wearied by the onslaught, we succumbed and fell to these horrible entities.

"Dinner's ready!" says my brother.

My neice and I shut down the game and thankfully took our normal seats around the normal table and ate our fill of good food within the safety of our home.

We then lived happily everafter.

The end.

Uh oh. Religion.

Now that Thanksgiving is over and the "holidays" have officially begun, I thought I'd take a moment to share my recent ideas about religion.

This is a thing that has been on my mind for the last few weeks and, quite frankly, I am disgusted by what I've discovered.

What is religion? Rather, what is the purpose of religion?

Mysterium Tremendum. That which is beyond explaination.

A friend of mine and I were discussing this recently. She is a pastor at a local church and so understands what religion is supposed to provide in the way of self-betterment, enlightenment and Humanity's evolution toward these goals.

But that's not what is really happening. Bureaucracy has taken hold and thus compartmentalized religions all over the world to the point where there is separation, (to the extreme of violence), of Humanity and of the very nature of the Myterium Tremendum. Religion was never to be used as a means of social control, information hoarding or discemination, to put one's self above others, to condemn those who think and feel differently, to use as a rallying point for war, or to do anything else that infringes upon free will.

I am not against religion. But I am very much against the orginization of it. Bureaucracy is very, very bad and should have never attempted the task of controllong how religion works. Mysterium Tremendum is way beyond the materialistic and should remain so. Enlightenment cannot happen otherwise.