Friday, October 29, 2010

wow: do things ever come around. the acedemic actions of taking one person's thought(s) and applying it (them) to things that appear to have no depth, managing to show that [not so] deep in that very hole you can find a little water, and a little bit of rock and sand. The fun then comes when you are forced to see upon what the hell they are resting, because unless we begin to talk about gravitons crossing the the varying dimensions in string theory, every non-neutral object (explicitly not in the form of energy) must rest on something. (fuck, I hope that pseudo assertion is right)
So where does the water, sand and rock rest in this hole?

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

the klein bottle and the human condition

the (w)hole of chet baker. his life was not perfect, nor was it really all that beautiful, but what it was was memorably tragic. a beautiful and delicate voice, it revealed his vulnerability, even to himself. to whom are we suceptible if we are not [exactly that] to ourselves? but to let one's-self search for an internal disappearance...

his existance became a hole, and it was in that hole where he was able to bury himself, hiding all that was his self-perceived identity, until unable to even recognize himself. in that hole he was able to slowly destroy everything that he was, all that created him and everything there was around him; except for the two things that were the true outward presentation of his complete internal vulnerability: his voice and the trumpet, both calling out with a joyful melencholy that was his expression, but that he couldn't seem to even claim as his own. they too belong to the pieces of his creation. he contained himself, but somehow had no control of the contents his soul consuming everything that made it, and held it.

[this video came thanks to an happenstancial viewing of the film when it was re-released in spain somehwere near mid 2009. i had gone on the invitation of my (then roomate) friend jaime barros to see the showing of a corto for which he had done the sound, and the documentary was showing not long after the short. a glass of wine later next door with a tapa from the bar served as an inpromptue dinner and then we entered the world of chet baker (as told by bruce webber). the above are simply the thoughts of reflection after purchasing the remastered pseudo best-of that was the soundtrack for the documentary. the above is saturated by the tastes of the portrayal of baker in the documentary, but somehow i think it also stands slightly on its own. the music itself, and a little knowledge of his life could lead one to make very similar observations]

Sunday, October 03, 2010

a peregrine falcon's talons, along with its wings, can save the head of a motorcyclist