Screen Savers May Be The Death Of Me

Posted 30 Sep 2011 — by alannalin
Category Uncategorized

I recently (sometime in the last 3 weeks) changed my screen saver from the Mac “flurry” to my Pictures folder. I think it’s messed me up. Conjuring up the past has made living forward (that sounds ugh) harder.

There have finally been things in my life that I could not get over through trying. And that aggravating piece of wisdom that Time Heals All Wounds. . .is it true? I’m still not sure. . . assuming it’s true, let’s say this. Time emerges as a woman with the longest arm you’ve ever seen. She bitch slaps you and you run to get away, and she gets you again. You run harder. Smack. You run farther. Smack. Eventually you realize it’s just a part of life, and that in some divinely screwed up way you can be thankful at any given moment that something worse isn’t happening to you. Simultaneously, she’s like a really mean gardener. Or maybe even just a diligent one, cutting of and whacking off bits of you that keep you from growing. Plants in this world are pretty much screaming all the time. It is the sound of growth. No body knows this. My screensaver is a reminder of the brutal episodic nature of life struggle.

I need a vacation.

—-
After returning to bed for 3 more hours of sleep, I feel better.
The episodic nature of life struggle is less brutal. :)

Would Jesus Kick Someone In The Head?

Posted 26 Sep 2011 — by alannalin
Category Uncategorized

This very sassy hip looking woman with sunglasses and cute hat came up to me on the street today. “Can I have a dollar to buy a cup of coffee? Do you have a dollar?” she asked. I flat-out lied and said, “No. . .I don’t! Sorry!” From the bottom of my heart I didn’t want to give her a dollar: I wanted to kick her in the head. Are these feelings un-Christian?

Would there be benefit to buying her a cup of coffee and a danish just as a matter of obedience to that sometimes absurd Christian principle? That one which says if someone asks for your. . .sweater, give it to ’em, and give ’em your coat, too.

If I was to do submit to that principle in humility and dumb faith in God, would it be different than if I did it self-consciously as performance art? How about a cup of coffee, a danish, and a massage, little miss? If I gave her all those things and then kicked her in the head would God understand my wrath and be able to forgive me for my violent ways?

I would like to believe there is so much mercy in His Love.

Reviligion

Posted 19 Sep 2011 — by alannalin
Category Uncategorized

The belief is that there is a creative presence in the world seeking you.

That you belong to it / Him — come from Him, will return to Him, but for every natural born reason of self + identity, you know yourself fundamentally as apart from him. But that you can’t and won’t truly know who you are until know yourself in relationship to Him.

He is the “father” God, who is gendered thus, because at birth while one’s relationship to the bearing body (mother) is explicit / undeniable. . .A father’s paternity needs to be proven, tested, ensured by the virginity of the mother, confirmed by resemblance. Hence the sexual double standard of the ages, and hence the choice metaphorical application of Father to God.

The essential proposition is that this creative presence took steps through history, through a specific point of contact with human kind, through specific forms of human ritual and meaning making — to reconcile the world to himself — To reconcile human existence (finite, mortal, prone to error), to that which is without beginning or end, that which we sometimes imagine as limitless, perfect love. Because we long for it, and don’t have it in ourselves.

How to finagle it?
How to reunite human and divine / almighty / eternal, considering the demands of homeostasis, as represented by the equal sign.

Human ≠ God
Mortal ≠ Eternal
Human Love ≠ Perfect Love

An X. Provided to fulfill the perfection impasse.
Some churches get quite excited by the poetic attributes of phrases like THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB CLEANSED FROM SIN WHITE AS SNOW.
But perhaps it was just very clean math. And good graphics. Instead of A PERFECT SACRIFICE! how about a sacrifice of perfection to end all personal charades of perfection, and self-made righteousness.

Human + God
Mortal + Eternal
Human Love + Perfect Love

As we have all experienced, the details are what the are and quite often lend themselves to solipsistic (annoying) / aesthetic (quite valid) objections.

But the underlying provision is that God forgave / subsidized the whole world’s difference from him and welcomes each of us to know him, discover him, and love him, no matter what we’ve done (this includes pedophiles and rapists and vegetarians) and in that process of communing with him we are invited to lose ourselves and return to the unselfconscious state of paradise. Being who we were always made to be. . .An expression of love and creativity to fill the earth. His expression of love and creativity to fill the earth.

I love Christianity, because in J. Christ’s life, I see an expression of God’s love, in someone equally human (born of a woman, with an umbilicus) and divine — Someone who knew who His Father was. Who fulfilled his destiny. Even though it was shitty and hurt a lot.

The resurrection must have been fun.

Lastly, Le Petite Jesu did also point to something much easier to abide than flawed religious structures of man.

That would be the Holy Spirit.

Lastly, space aliens have recently informed me that God is dyslexic.

The Horney Spirit, apparently is the correct designation.

The exact ramification of this highly suspect nomenclature remain to be seen.

Amen.

Chairmeowwww

Song of the Day | Sunday Edition (9.18.11)

Posted 19 Sep 2011 — by
Category Uncategorized

Song of the Day Segment of Glamour Fulltime. Broadcasting Tuesdays and Fridays, or Sundays, life permitting. At This Moment by Read More

Song of the Day | Sunday Edition (9.18.11)

Posted 19 Sep 2011 — by
Category Uncategorized

Song of the Day Segment of Glamour Fulltime. Broadcasting Tuesdays and Fridays, or Sundays, life permitting. At This Moment by Read More

Ah. Wide awake at 2am.

Posted 04 Sep 2011 — by alannalin
Category Uncategorized

Ah, wide awake a 2pm.

The coffee I had for dinner –must have done the trick.
Screwed the lightbulb into the couch, where I sit now.

Bzzzzz.

What a week. In about 7 hours I will get up and go to mass.

At mass I will sing in the choir and participate in that ritual called The Eucharist.
I will experience real-time time lapse and then I will return to the sense of sequence I depend upon in daily life.

I will probably eat some eggs.

It’s been a bizarre couple of weeks. It’s been a bizarre month. I’m so confused about what has happened. If I say all my dreams have come true, can someone jump down my throat and sit on my small intestines? I feel this pressure in my stomach from being exhausted, excited, frustrated, thrilled, nonchalant, vulnerable, invulnerable, passionate, indifferent. . .Would I trade all of these feelings just to be rich? To have a swelling stock portfolio, significant real estate investments? The truth is, it’s not a trade I get to make, and I’m okay with that.

Instead, I have just enough to get my musical equipment fixed so that I can move like fish upstream to mate with destiny! I am salmon spawn if nothing else. What is spawn? Perhaps I misidentify myself and I am just salmon wanting to spawn. There we go. But I do not want spawn. I want a career. And I don’t even mean that.

O Lord.

Well, since it’s that kind of blog. . .I just want my fifteen readers to know, you may read my blog, but I go by the rules of 2001. Remember those? No? That’s alright. . .The blog rules of 2001 is that you pour your heart out to an unnamed audience because people have not become friendly to blogs / bloggers yet. In 2001, a person who blogs does so as an act of faith in the world (wide web) as compassionate, mysterious listening friend. And in that iteration, one forgets oneself in self-disclosure and inadvertently is healed by the WWW. I am Chairmeowww.

Blah blah blah. I sang at a concert tonight for a friend who was having a chamber group put on a show of his rock opera live for the first time after working on it for the last 3 years. The parts were hard to sing, and really, I’m an incompletely trained vocalist, so I didn’t have the chops to sing his complicated parts immaculately. I did the best I could. And in the end, I decided I would try to be a human about it, and try to emotionally experience the character that I was playing. Alice gave me some kindly feedback afterwards, “You were staring at the audience and blinking a lot, I don’t think you realized it, but you were blinking. . .a lot.” It guess it wasn’t obvious that I was Leila, a young sorceress looking at inexplicable flickering flames of light in a wooded glen, as described in the piece I was singing. O well. My acting skills were epileptic, and for that, I am more amused than ashamed.

Wait, let me act ashamed.

:| :\ :> :{

:) I’m not ashamed.

2:27am I’m not ashamed. I just have an excitement ulcer.

Good night!

I wish I could blog and brush my teeth at the same time

Posted 30 Aug 2011 — by alannalin
Category Uncategorized

But that would require that I teach my toes touch-typing, and frankly, I’m too set in my ways for such deviances. What a moo-foo day, kids.
I don’t know what went wrong early in the day, but something went a-funk and I went kaput, and just barely managed to get done the things I needed to get done.

On a daily basis, I have a few things I’ve committed to taking care of — They should take about 3 hours, instead with traffic, they take 12 hours. After that I only have enough energy to blog or brush my dentures. Not both.

Teeth first!

Bye.

Chairmeowww’s Cat-holic Reading List

Posted 23 Aug 2011 — by alannalin
Category Uncategorized

I compile this list because here are books that have provided me with the insight from which I have synthesized my worldview and identity as Chairmeowww. And cuz someone asked. . .

Who Told You That You Were Naked?: Freedom From Judgement, Guilt and Fear of Punishment – John Jacob Raub — illuminates the psychological foundations of man in relationship to self and religion
The Seven Storey Mountain – Thomas Merton – provided a definition of “sin” that was simple, profound, and important
The Gifts of the Jews – Thomas Cahill, the birth of a sense of “destiny” and divine intimacy in history
Violence Unveiled – Rene Girard – hot damn, I don’t even know what this is about –the nature of sin as being a function of mimesis / imitation of the desire of others. . .
Why Are You A Catholic? an essay by Walker Percy, in book of essays edited by Kevin and Marilyn Ryan – just a funny / culturally reflective piece
Toward God – Michael Casey, explains the practice of –for lack of a better word — Buddhist Christianity– old prayer traditions that were based on silence and stillness — what it means to be still and know God
Orientation Series to Novitiates (tape series – this was a bootleg copy) – Fr. Richard Rohr

World-view in general–

The Denial of Death – Ernest Becker
The Undertaking – Thomas Lynch

Where Blasphemy Meets Poetry

Posted 29 Jul 2011 — by alannalin
Category Uncategorized

I told a offensive joke yesterday.  I found it on my smart phone while riding the Gold Line in a Google search, “Offensive Jokes about God / Jesus.”  Why I would be interested in such things? Well, because I pretty much wanted to find out whether I could be offended.  As a Catholic, I would have to be, right?  I would have to have some threshold of fervor or indignation, no?   Like “Piss Christ” –you hear about such things and you think, why would someone hate Christianity so much that they want to pee on said religion’s favorite symbols.  And then you hear descriptions of this guy sticking a crucifix in a jug of his own urine and you think, yeah, if I did that, I would totally be doing it because I really hate religion and all the annoying people who practice it.  And then 8 years later when you’re writing a blog about offensive religious remarks in culture, you would decide to attach a wiki link, and lo and behold you would see Piss Christ for the first time and discover  it’s this beautiful magical photograph of Christ on a crucifix being baptized by the purest element to come from the human body.  Yes, pee stinks when leaked onto your clothes or bushes on sidewalks you sometimes find yourself in traversing the big city, but the stuff is sterile.  And this image is gorgeous, rapturous.  Incandescent.

That said, the joke had to do with why Jesus would be a great porn star.  And a pun on the word “hung” in linguistic and gestural use.  I thought it was brilliant.  Gestural puns!   I also liked the joke because in a rather unlikely way,  it suggest that Jesus was “endowed” with super-human power.  I thought God would like that.  I thought, if I was devout Christian woman and someone passed on a rumor that I had immaculate boobies (I don’t), I would be rather into that kind of reputation.

Anyway, I was doing a test for a private comedy event / club that I want to put on through LADWP sometime in the fall.  My loft is the location, and through not openly on display in the main space, I do have the cross and other Catholic relics hanging up in my private chambers. I love the simplicity of the symbol.  It’s the XY grid, it’s the crossroads, it’s the intersection, it’s a sliding scale, it’s the place where Jesus died for me.  And I say that really, from the bottom of my heart.  His is an act that often gets replicated in pastel colored plastics, and has about as dimension as a panty-liner.  But, for those vested in the deeper craziness proposed by his life and sacrifice, I have my cross hanging hidden behind a clown’s mask.

a lot of fanfare
hides what’s there

Show Highs and the Down Under

Posted 20 Jul 2011 — by alannalin
Category Uncategorized

I played a, hm, would it be called a dive bar? in Pasadena called Old Towne Pub. It’s this weird place down an alley amidst newish shiny establishments like The Container Store, but it looks like it’s been there forever. The light inside is old feeling. My friend, Addi who continues to explore the intricacies of the Balloon Bass invited me onto the line-up he was organizing for the night and I said yes a little over a month ago. I have been playing with the wonderful Davin Givhan, this strange friend that I have known for a long time, who I have come to appreciate even more through Facebook for his oblique dynamism– I have a hard time citing examples, but in the back of my mind, I remember a post about crosswalk buttons? that tickled my fancy. His way of speaking the outlandish truth with the most understated tone is just one of his many fine attributes. I also had the joy of singing with Alice Lin, the miraculous filibuster who happens to be my sister. I typed “filibuster” without knowing the meaning of the word, but it indeed applies as well as the “miraculous” which precedes it. We have differing views and much to debate about everything, but when push comes to shove, she has the ability to understand and anticipate my moves in a way no one else does. Also, she’s frighteningly creative and innovative, not likely to tolerate much rehash of anything. Cliches flee her in terror. As a result, she doesn’t sing cheesy harmonies and this is a good thing.

We got home late last night (she is staying me for a couple months through the summer) and after eating whatever was in sight, managed to turn in around 2am. Rise and shine 5 hours later, it’s 7am and we’re both up and surprisingly peppy. I think it’s cuz the show set off the right glandular excretions, the co-enzymes we’ve been missing, that everyone’s missing when they don’t do what they should be doing. :)

I played mostly new songs. Some entirely new, a few that I’ve only played two or three times before. It’s been pretty strange to be on a creative tear (tare) this year of 2010-2011. With Monk, I finished Emergency Songs, with Raf, I’m working on The Beatles Cover Album, and with this show, I realized I have enough songs for a new album, truly, positively. I even have a title for it, I think.

After so many years of struggling to have a healthy, functional, real creative life, I feel peaceful and. . .well-applied. It’s what people say about totally other things –but. . .

I feel like I’m living the dream.

Back in the day, I wanted to connect with people through music, but there was also the desire for some certain amount of fame and reach. Fame as reach, reach as quantity.  But I think a few years ago, when it became evident that I could experience my greatest amount of audience exposure / validation, and yet feel completely dead inside, lost in my own life, miserable –it dawned on me without a real creative life and underlying practice of writing songs and making music, recognition was excruciating, a gorgeous sham thrown over nothingness.

A dollop of  whipped cream upon exposed intestines.   A moustache over dentures.  :)

So it is with great joy that I can say, now, more than ever, I am doing what I love to do. In the unseen and daily routines of writing and practicing and playing music in LA, I have much happiness.

Thank you, Zeusy Christus.

Amen,

Alanna