Jul 7, 2017

A Few Things

I haven't written here in a little while. 
Maybe I've been nervous about it. 
Deciding what I want to say next. 
So i'll start with a few

Things:

1. music is almost done. I've been saying this forever but this time I mean it. there is direction. There is purpose again. and I couldn't be more excited. we have learned so much just pushing ourselves into the music. the first and best advice we ever got: get into the studio. learn who we are.

2. visuals. this is the next big hurtle. to convert a sound to an image ain't easy. and shouldn't be. with a little research I've seen a lot of nonsense around. things masking as creativity have nothing to show. and cheapen the sound. there is motion trying to milk out emotion for art and commerce. but if i never commit to a purpose there will never be a purpose. 

never be fooled. this is art. everything should mean something. this is commerce. everything has a motive

3. words. write more. and more. turn the ink to blood and force it to life. writing can be beautiful and ephemeral and romantic. but at some point. you have to take it into the dirt. this is the most violent of parts. editing. the manual labor. 

4. all of this takes time. time. time. put this into perspective. we will be ready when were ready. but this time i see everything different. this time. 

So where do i start? Jaime is wrapping up the sounds. I write when I can. And the visuals?

find a theme or narrative in the music. not both. thread the idea or the story. the images can not suffer a lack of purpose. everything should be for theme or narrative. emotion and story. this is not too different from fiction writing. not too different from music. not too different from poetry. you find the story and bring it out. the medium is only a toolkit for shaping the how. the stories are the what, and the why.

if this doesn't make sense. you can ask me. but mostly this is just to get my mind right as i move forward. i think ill get back to writing more here.



-rene

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Feb 24, 2017

Quick Update: Still Alive

Still Alive

New baby is here! More than a little tired. But writing is going exceptionally well. Poems, 2nd Novel. Working on a website renethewriter.com soon... was thinking of starting a novel on here... but i have so many ideas... 

My brothers are working on a new mix of our Idyll Green songs.
until I get things more together, here is a poem I've been working on...


Civics. 

There is no
city when every
thing is apart
brother. from brother.
hiding side-streets. vagrant breaks
like bottle shards
waiting
to flicker in early morning
flames. licked red. for any /see 
comfort we give th'least of us.
being known by our charity. is being Human.

There is no 
city when all
fall by the dividing
lines and walls.
neighbor. against neighbor.
till we are the worst desert to cross.
with no kindness to shadows. suffering
with no warmth to their foot
steps
cold among the cheap cruelty of words.
cruelest. who see / an' know better


an' stay. silent. 

-rene

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Jan 5, 2017

Morning. Unwanted pt 5 (a hymn of forgetting)

It started with my eyes.

Darting calmly between the soft, pink floor mat and the florescent light above. Half of my face buried drooling in cotton-shag. Lost in whatever stupor I had fallen into. 

I had lost the hour, when finally the bloodlines around my irises stopped throbbing in a wave of calm.

Coolness ran across my forehead like the gentle massage of loving fingers expanding through my face.

The touch, long and delicate reached back through my brain. Scratching, soothing down the cracks of my spine, across my shoulders.

Light.

Heavenly light. I could feel her. Across the country. I haven't known too many touches like this...

I felt still.
a relaxed feeling 
I've hadn't felt in how long? ... 
have I ever felt this calm?
how do I describe freedom of sadness? 
to be relieved of my knowing?



I looked down at the pink bath mat. As every molecule was cut from its gravity and I was lifted up. Off the floor away from the white tiles. Detached. Forgetting anything that held me to the ground. 

My right hand rose away from me, and like I was turning over in air to the ceiling than back to the floor as my legs hit the light fixture. My spine rolled up to meet it until I was lying flat against the ceiling looking down to the body below. 

There was music for him. Around me. Music for them. I heard the strum. And hymn of forgetting. The music of the stars.

And felt no fear for him. Always to be the face in the water... knowing what I am, and finally forgiving him... there that was a genuine smile.



to be cont.


-rene

ps. as always like, share, subscribe and if you want to talk you can reach me on this blog, youtubefacebook and twitter


mood: Vivaldi: La Follia

  • Sonata in D Minor, Op. 1, No. 12, RV. 63, 'La Follia': I. Adagio (feat. Giovanni Antonini)" by Il Giardino Armonico