pitted_raven: (Default)
When I was little, my school was all Placebo. My class The Doors though.
I've found that 'Dig Out Your Soul', and I think that was decisive.
In a different house, 'Blues' by Hendrix.
Some of Rachmaninoff's, Britten's, Shostakovich's, Janacek's, Ysaÿe's, Franck's, Scriabin's, Martinu's, Sibelius', Smetana's, Pärt's were a few classical pieces that woke me up later. (Not that I remember correctly.)
And then I heard someone unimportant say "Arimura Ryuutarou" and when that search spat out 'Alone again, wonderful world' I suddenly decided to make music my own and pawn, to grovel at my feet.

It's weird, because we're the kind of family where if you haven't been singing your whole life (especially while working, that's a fairytale thing, most normal Eauropeans probably wouldn't get it), play all those odd instruments lying somewhere and combine fire, alcohol, cheese, songs and guitar at every excuse, you're wird yourself; but yeah, it really only occured to me once I hear Arimura's voice that I should, could really "do" music.
Because I was composing any time I touched an instrument I didn't know, made symphonies and battle soundtracks and commercial tunes in my head with the excuse of an mp3 being the money I could use better and... My friend was songwriting for a band. Not that her poetry was ever not embarrassing, but hey, mind you, besides that one I pretty much only had two, a classical guitarist and a cellist, my favourite "uncle" had a medieval-ish band, Bard (duh) was in two bands, grandfather DJ, our closest aunt just going and playing and singing her mind on squares, my most admired sempai was totally in all of the coolest bands around and it NEVER fucking seemed to make me think of taking up music on my own. Or okay, trying to take it more seriously, even if for fun.
I was bloody living "rock'n'roll" all of the time. No comment.
But who cares?
Now that I'm not a cocky mad genius who thinks they own the world, or someone that can move and breathe and think and all that, I ironically finally ACTUALLY CREATE.
Maybe I used to concentrate too much on hating my hand for sketching and scribbling manically at absolutely ridiculous times and stopping it so I can solve murders or (fairly) cheat folk out of their money. Maybe it was because I was slowly preparing for proper science fiction or that all the people loved me or feared me - or just hated, equally brutally.
Now? I'm loster than lost. Really... But it's kind of funny too because the poems and songs might be worse than before but they're suddenly exact and not transformative, derivative, reactive, storytelling or about clipping points, singularities, optical mechanics, whatnots. On the flip side, majority is now too unpleasant, repetitive and whiny to ever see the light out of my archive.

Although I'm now learning guitar (wow, I'm actually learning to play an instrument), my music always comes from how I sing. Because even if I hope to not really have to do that, it starts with me suddenly singing something, with all the soft nuances. It's ..queer, but my perception just is such. Not just of music. Sounds in general, visual, of the world... Oh.
Anyway, singing is now obviously an important thing to me. And it'd be hard to think it's not influenced by what happened ijn the first paragraph. Yeah. Bt4w? Who knows...

Okay, why am I actually babbling?
I feel like I almost had a point before I started writing and forgot to stop. My drink and book's getting cold.
(And, no, nobody's gonna make me put a multiple form there. ...)
pitted_raven: (Default)
In my world, you need chilli, cardamom, vanilin sugar, vanilla extract and a Dir en grey album to drink coffee.

I personally make it really really bitter most of the time (and 'cause I don't want to overcoffee, I half achieve that with grains coffee)... And I read. Comics. Bible is for Frisco.

Also, I should mention that I kill anyone that lets theirs get cold, pushes in sugar and milk and- otherwise epically awesome heros are an exception. But unless I already dig you helplessly, that's one of the easy ways to antagonise me to a point of friction, hey.
I just thought of that...

Aug. 9th, 2016 11:59 pm
pitted_raven: (Default)
I saw a man walk on wall and I thought "always"
since then I say that to whom I sell my soul to
as if the mystification was supposed to clear it up or something
then no one really sees the punch coming;
Equal Exchange

Aug. 9th, 2016 07:26 pm
pitted_raven: (Default)
only KY can write a story of a male prostitute asking a serial killer to help him escape and pull it off

Aug. 9th, 2016 06:58 pm
pitted_raven: (Default)
a stupid piece of half-assed bread is instantly made edible by nut oil, chilli sprinkle and pink!salt

Basic Ravy

Aug. 9th, 2016 05:39 pm
pitted_raven: (Default)
light, short baggy blue shots
full moneybag on hips
pendant under shirt
56/58 black hat, tipped to right
big high wool socks
black tennis shoes with green-yellow highlighter accents
yellow black Palestina scarf, tied at back
pocket stopwatch
"something" in mouth


pitted_raven: (Default)Ravy

August 2016

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