Tone to tunes

So lately I have been loving me some scales. Not fish scales mind you, but heetar (guitar) scales. I really really like to just play around on the blues scale. I have even tried my hand at just kind of improvising a blues song. More of just a short riff then phrase of lyrics, riff, phrase, riff, phrase, wicked riff with killer virbrato at the end. You know, just really simple. But in my musical explorations, this question hit me. When does a random hodge podge of notes become music? I know they are all in the same key, so they aren't completely random, but I dunno if it is really music like Led Zeplin is music or like CCR is music or Beck is music. I mean they are so different, but all music. I just feel like I am playin a scale. I have tried putting down a little peice of poetry and then building some chords around it, but it is pretty easy to start sounding like Nickleback or Creed. Redundant and unimaginative.

So where does music start? When is my Bm D A E chord progression my own and not a spin off of Coldplay's Green Eyes. Maybe I shouldn't have written that. Later when I give up this engineering gig and am making millions of records as a guitar slingin rocka' (say this like Nigel from Spinal Tap) Coldplay will sue me for copywrite infringement. Probably not. I'll just say they were inspiration or something.
God Bless Ben Folds! Make him a believer.

The pleasure of the finger.

Insert more Hemingway refrences here, think a sad though, get throughly depressed... and we are all on the same page.

Ok so lets progress away from dark times and into the joy of the sunshine and the overwhelming and sweet scent of pure sport scent by old spice. Seriously, this stuff is rediculously strong. I feel like I am standing near the fragrance counter at Dillards. Ahhh. I hate that place.

In other news. The brewing went well. I looked at the airlock today at lunch and there were some bubbles. I expect there to be some gnarlier ones later this evening. Later this evening. What a phrase.

I have a desire to just go off. Strap on you seatbelts or better yet, just quite reading. The following may not make sense, nor be benefical to read. Goodbye care for case and spelling. Alas, if I do desire to use a word I can't spell, then no troubles to me. I am not currenlty being graded. Ha Hannaford. (my journalism teacher) She actually is the one who first introduced me to writing in this manner. Writing just nonesense, as long as you are writing. I don't really understand the value of thought if the thought doesn't have some structure or purpose. It is kind of like drawing a cirlce on a piece of paper over and over and over. Really all you have is a cirlce on a piece of paper. Well I guess it could look like the circle the kid in the ring drew. Oh man that was scary. So even besides the sheer pointlessness of drawing a circle over and over and over on a peice of paper, you have scared the peewaddin out of yourself. If a t.v. comes on then I would suggest, well I dunno cause in the movies no one really escaped from that little girl. Ok that is something I don't get. Its a little girl. Why is she so mean. She was born mean. Why? Isn't that the whole deal with scary movies is that people are just severly misunderstood or mistreated by another and then they freak out and start killing people or start haunting or start some other scary act. I find walking in cornfields with fog hanging about, really only a couple feet, maybe 1 even, above the top of the stalks to be quite freightening and pretty. Depending on the company I would assume. Ewwwww. That was definatley a dependant clause just floating out there by itself, admist a sea of white and text. Well, I guess thought doesn't have to be perfectly structured. So scary movies. No I don't want to go down that road. I totally freaked myself out this morning. It wasn't a total freak out, but I was pretty scared. I just don't know why my imagination can do that. Really it is the how I don't understand. I was so looking forward to leaving work early today, but I don't know if that is going to happen. My boss normally has a meeting and doesn't come back, but today he came back. What a downer. I can't go take my drawing to the boiler shop to get made, I just have to sit around and wait till in the morning. In the morning however, Marc and I can get the extensions we want and go to the electric motor shop to see if our too will work. I think that it will, but it is better to be sure. I don't really want to talk about work right now. How about climbing. Ok sounds great. I climbed last night acutally and I worked again on the V3 problem with that wicked orange sloper in the middle. I stuck the hold just past it, and got my right on the sloper, but my feet are wrong to reach for the next hold, which is a good sidepull. I hope that I will be ready for Utah this august. I really need to get those tickets. Hmmm. Maybe I will call them in a minute. Obviously, I have the time. Time. It is such a precious thing. We are constantly spending it, but we can't really buy more, and I have no idea how much I have. I figure God will give me as much as I need to do what He wants me to do. I just don't really understand what it is he wants me to do. I am not totally sure if I really like engineering all that much now that I have worked here. Actually I really dislike the work, or lack of work rather I have. I just don't like it. But at least I have a job, and it does pay well. I am not hungry and I can buy climbing supplies. Woot. Peace out.

I have been reading To Have and Have Not. I have been reading for a while, going slow, taking my time trying to savor Ernests writing, but it took me 3/4 of the book to finally begin to get it. I don't know how I have pulled the wool over everyone's eyes by convincing people I am smart. I really think it is the major. Just because someone is an engineer, doesn't mean they are really smart, it just means they have a lot of homework. Thats all. Ok so back to Hemingway. No. That was all the Hemingway I had to speak of.

Hat tournament, Saturday. I am pretty excited. I day dream when I cool from the shower in the mornings. I have a mirror across from the bed. It is a very large mirror and I don't really know why anyone would want to have a mirror THAT large, but it is Sean's house and he can have whatever mirrors suit him. It isn't my decision. So I was sitting on my bed cooling, looking at the mirror and at how my stomach rolls over the waist band of my underware (did it used to do that? I can't remember. I feel like I would if it did.) day dreaming about the hat tournament and how big of a star I will be and how women, really nice pretty women will flock from every corner of the natural state to hang on me like the girls hang on Arthur Fonzerelli in Happy Days. Then from the mists THE woman will walk and all the other women will fade away and there will just be me being a man and her being a woman and God will be like, dang it feels good to be a gangsta. I always have these CRAZY day dreams in the morning. It is almost disturbing. I light the stove and fry an egg and realize practice a solid hat tipping motion. Maybe I'll have my new Filson hat. Gotta love tin cloth.

Here in a little while, Marc and I are going to look at trying our hands at brewing some hefe-weissen. I am pretty darn excited about the whole prospect. Of course I expect it to taste like Frazenkeiner, but it will most like be closer to piss.

I miss going to church with people I know. I miss a lot of things. The fragilness of life makes me sad sometimes. It was only for a moment, and then just gone. Like a breath in the winter wind. Passing. Its just so damn beautiful.