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 Posted: Sun Apr 17, 2011 4:26 pm
First ENTRY!
More or less. I Dunno what to call it.. Maybe A....lil bit of work I thought up.... Or Maybe "Reminisce". As this is basically what I discuss. Bringing back sweet memories and how they drag this down. Possibly turn this into a poem later but for now. It shall remain as this bit of written work.
....
It's A...Sunday here... about the time of 6:35 April 17.
I Woke up... with a headache and sore throat. It was snowing outside. Took a few tylenol, downed a bag of cough drops. Made no difference. A ole' friend of mine came over. With the weather being bad as is. We decided to stay in side, go up to my room, throw some knives at a poorly drawn picture of a Goose and blast some good ole' fashion punk/ classic rock music. With the day as bad is, up in my small room, blasting what once were good, punk bands now complete sell-outs. We began to talk about the "good ole' Times". This is what this post is about... Those "good Ol' Times"
....
After....throwing and gitting hit by those tricky ricochets a song came on... a/the song that i come to....well familiarize with the said "good ol' times". That song being.... "Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)" by Greenday. The song brings back so many child hood memories(i'll go a lil more in depth with this later). (right about ------>here<------ I hit a block as to how to go into the next sentence, if the nect sentece is...offt, please tell/forgive me). It was back in..... i think...2003 or '04 (possible '05). I was 8-6 years younger, a lil tike you might call me. Back when "Punk", "green Day" and "Blink-182'' we're all still on the radio, all still... good,(not saying Blink isnt good anymore....green day however, alas sold out) back then "mainstream". I was wandering around the...."rustic" cabin out in the.... rural town of Rapid River, Michigan. The cabin was atop a small hill, which followed a river. MY dad's friend's band (the name being "Branded) were having a lil party, with, many a lil tikes just like me, they were playing the hits of the time (bands include, Creed, Green Day, 3 Doors Down, Nickleback[also not a sellout at that time]). Suddenly after a short intermission they began playing "Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)" by greenday. My face lit with joy, the song, my "most favoritest song" being played live, by a rather good local band. This is one of my dearest memories. I wish i could sho you a picture of that party, but alas, I cannot. I almost start to tear up when ever i recall this. Best memory i can remember (at this point a tear does fall from my eye).
Then lets jump to about late '05-'06. I was bout lemme see 9-10 whatever. My parents would take me and a friend down to the park ( a small lil park by the name of "Kids Kingdom", on the shoreline of Lake Michigan. I'd git to ithin a block er 2 away and you'd hear it. The skaters (skate park only about 100 yards away) blasting bands like "Underoath" and yet aain the non- sold out, punk/ classic rock bands. This was a time when the summers were long, the days, endless and the good times happened not once a month but were..essentially everyday. Back when the skaters weren't douchebags but llil' "punks" with kindess and a certain amount of "class".
Let's jump one last time to about late 07-early-08. IM about the age of 12-13 roughly. Im terribly bad at math. My friend's and I have (not previusly mention: I started playing an bass/ guitar in about '04) started gitting a lil "band" goin. the Word band is used very loosely as we just got together at the park or where ever on a summer day and played music/sang/talked. By this time, rap had gotten roots in the "main stream", punk was being played less on the radio, classic rock just a "man i wish they would play -put classic rock song here- on the radio". I have found System of a Down. They along with the ol' green day, blink and the classic rock, i will now familiarize with the "good ol' times". The very next year... punk will become almost non-existance....the "good ol' times" have ended.
(leaving space in case i decide to elaborate)
I'm now 15, I'm in a local band called "Last Anthem". We've been together for about a year now and despite having to fire our drummer (found a new one) we're gitting off fairly well. I've been playing bass for 7 years now and guitar for 4. My band is....what you'd call a "good Ol' Fashion Punk Band", like how Green Day used to be and how NOFX still is. We're punk, we suck and we don't give a damn. Just like Blink and NOFX, we're making good ol' punk and we're having a damn good time going it.
We will start posting videos on youtube. When We Do, I'll post our channel.
Thank You For Reading This
=Me
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Posted: Tue Apr 19, 2011 6:52 pm
Artist
Well..... i wrote it all..... computer f*cked up, deleted the entire damn thing. Which included a background about my life. I'm pissed right now, I'm surprised I'mm even writing this now but I know if i don't write it now... I won't write it. But for now that background will have to wait.....
It's Tuesday, 9:14 P.M. April 19; The Day that I become an artist.
Well, You may think that after playing bass for nearly half my life, writing for about 1/3 of it and fairly recently a traceur, you'd think that I'd consider myself an artist. I have not, never even considered it. Always thought that I wasn't good enough. Even though I've been told and called an artist many times, it never crossed my mind. (yet again block, if the sentence feels out of place tell me).
It was a cloudy/overcast sky, the thermometer read 45 but it felt like 33 with the wind whipping the cold drizzle of rain around. I went to the run down/ beat to hell wood shed, and started a fire in its 1900's wood stove. I turned on the radio, and started playing my Dean Acoustic and strum along to some ol' classic. As the fire light reflected off my face, the sky outside darken, with the cackling of flames and the faint radio in the back ground. I strayed away from the song playing on the radio and began to strum and sing.... I was...unknowingly doing improv, to my fingers and mind it all felt so familiar, The lyrics of a place long forgotten, the sounds of people laughing.... having a good time, around the camp fire, the flame reflecting off the glass smooth lake in the middle of the night. It was.... I was there... playing the music that they were enjoying. I was no longer in a woodshed in i was up.... in the middle of nowhere with friends and family, enjoying the nice summer night. Reminisce; Another good memory. My fingers still plucking away at the worn strings, my voice still ringing that....tone that one can only find in the song "Country Boy can survive" that deep-richness of rock but with a hint of country. I... was happy, truely happy.... if I were to die right there... I'd die knowing that I was....the best mood I've ever been in since that one camp fire night that happened several years ago. It was not something that....I knew, it was not something I...made happen... It....was...I wasn't.... It just.... ( I have a hard time describing what happened/ how that moment was) I... was the music. The Music was me. That's when I realized I was an....artist that I had an Identity, that an artist is not someone who does an art but one who.....one....where the artist has such a deep feeling for his art....that the .....artist becomes the art.....the art becomes the artist.
as Always (leaves room in case i decide to elaborate more so)
I'm Moses and I am An Arist
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