Music. Art. Life.

I'm back into music making. Today, I just put together a slow song, having been studying beatmakers T-Minus and 40. I especially like how 40 uses sevenths in his beats; not overly complicated, but not too simplistic, either. He tends to use low-pass filters on instrumentation, outlined with an evocative drum track. Here's the result of my study.

Impasse.

I'm currently fighting a battle of point/counterpoint. From birth, I've been immersed in music. I played violin in my early days, so much so that even after severely traumatic damage to my arm, I can still play. Though I suffered extensive muscle damage and atrophy, muscle memory had not totally faded. I've been in choirs, singing at graduations, and even learned to also play the saxophone. And I have ventured into music making.

The other side of this is that I have been studying journalism for the past few years. And one of the tenets of journalism is objectivity and independence. Though I am good at what I do, there is still the draw back to music. Often, I find myself glued to my laptop, weaving harmonies and beats; ever evolving with the styles employed.

Following my instincts, I would love to pursue performance. But I don't come without a measure of noncommittal; I prefer to always have a backup plan. For journalism to be a backup to performance is a dangerous gambit, since journalistic credibility is more often than not eviscerated by attempts at glory.

What is to be done in such a situation? Pursue a dream rooted in genetic ability? Relent?

Should I pursue journalism, my time may be so consumed that I may be hard pressed to pursue musicianship further. Venturing into music may very well assassinate my career before I even begin.

I do know that there is power in these vocal chords of mine. My intent is to use them, in one capacity or another.

Journalism 330: Assignment 3 (Or, Ruben Teaches Me How to Dance)

I told Ruben that I needed his help. First, I needed to do this assignment; learning more dance moves couldn't hurt, either. I promise, I'm really not that stiff as a dancer...

Creation.

The ultimate show human expression is creation. For us to give a part of our soul and transliterate it into something that can be experienced by human senses is to show our absolute nature. The written word gives sufficient description which, while comprehensible, is also limited by literacy. Visual artistry renders perception which, more often than not, is skewed and influenced by ideas planted in the mind of the creator or that of the viewer.

Music, however, is universal. Rhythm is an innate form of order most easily recognized by the human body. The heartbeat is rhythmic. Walking and breathing have their own cadences. The eyes blink in time with each other. Speech is rendered in it's own timing. Everything is in synchrony.

Melodies are created in sequences, much like human DNA. Like the body has systems that work complementary to each other, basslines, percussion, and harmonies back each other.

In short, I've revived (again) my musical creations.

Forgotten Passions

When you forget your passions, it becomes difficult to take them up again. You realize how you loved them, and you also realize that they have been obscured by everything else.

Music: my first passion. The one thing that made me who I am. It keeps me grounded.