Sunday, July 5, 2009

Vices Everywhere

After a wonderful and productive day yesterday, I managed today to unproductively play a whole lot of random noise with my software synths. I also managed to stuff my face with junk food. My doctor is going to be the opposite of happy. I see her Tuesday. I am certain she will cluck with disapproval.

In the meantime, I must ensure all the albums on my iTouch have the correct artwork. This is a matter of critical importance. I may lose sleep. I am playing at sarcasm here, but I am layering it too thick because it is sarcastic sarcasm. I may actually lose sleep. These are two problems: a) my tendency to layer the funny to the point where it isn't funny; and b) the losing of sleep.

Virtuous

The result of today's grinding: 40 seconds of highly produced orchestral nonsense followed by a minute and a half of swing-time piano rock. It's the sketch version of Ticket to Paradise, the theme to my project.

The orchestral nonsense reflects the character's epiphany. The piano rock is because the epiphany must be followed by song and dance. The piano rock has a long way to come. The bass line must be swapped out for a live track. The lyrics have yet to be finalized. The melody is even sketched at this point, not finalized either.

Even though so much of it remains unfinished, it feels awful good to be working on one of my burning obsessions for actual credit.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

I LOL'ed

That made me laugh. Saw it linked by gwenners via Twitter.

Fireworks crackle outside my window. I massage Renoise into compliance. Stop bleeding harmonics into every other range, silly piano arpeggios! Out comes the EQ panel to regulate you.

What's this on the White House lawn? Foo Fighters? Alas, I am distracted once again. Back to work!

Goodbye Negativity, Hello Productivity

I will make this short. Music comes in waves. I stand atop a long crest. Though it will crash against the shore, I can ride awhile yet.

Away me now to ride.

Friday, July 3, 2009

We Shall Underwhelm

The crush of classwork is sort of over. At least finals no longer loom overhead. I bombed the final, of course. First time in forever that's happened. Apparently my poor brain was overwhelmed into incoherence by a mixture of somnophobic pharmaceuticals that ought not to be mixed. I'll have to avoid that in the future.

Really, it's some sort of freak miracle that I didn't die in a pileup on the turnpike on the way to my exams. It's even more of a freak miracle that I didn't die hours later on the way back when the turnpike was jammed with a honking swarm of metal and plastic.

If I were an actuary selling myself life insurance, I would include a clause about not paying a dime if I fall asleep doing fifty in a Corolla. Because, really, I've had more honest brushes with death due to the combination of cars and sleep deprivation than due to anything else. It's stupid and ridiculous and irresponsible and all sorts of idiocy and also self-inflicted which is the alienating bow on top. (cue a high bell ringing clear and long) Ding! Emo done, go to sleep.