What if some of the things in this world we think we want aren't what we really want? We walk into a store with our hearts racing and our thoughts clouded, determined to go buy the thing we think will ultimately make us happy, only to find once we finally hold it in our hands, that the chase was better than the catch. The feeling dies as if someone just poured water on your fire. Did I really want it, when I finally realized that the power to get it was right there?
It doesn't stop at things you could buy. What about jobs? I'd often think that what if what I believed the ideal job came up. I'd probably jump on it right away. Funny enough, the so-called ideal job popped up in my mailbox. That's when I realized just how much I really enjoy the job I have and I honestly don't believe I am going to find any better or more ideal. Aside from doing the things I enjoy, I'm learning new skills and growing. What I had thought in the past was better pales by comparison.
It's funny to me that I have had all of this power to "do", and yet I find great joy right where I am and with what I have? Is it possible that I have discovered the secret to contentment?
-- Posted from my iPhone... because I can
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
My new way of recording guitar: the old way!
I'm writing this in the lab today trying to distract myself from my medical problems, so I'm thinking about music and recording. I discovered something about myself thus past weekend: I like to keep things simple when I record. Too much freedom in recording becomes rather paralytic to me. I find myself sitting on guitar tones trying to dial in the ideal tone, when instead I should be focusing on the spirit of the song. Who cares if the guitar is not perfect. It's the imperfection that makes the song what it is.
If anything, I started going back to basics when recording guitar. I find a tone and that's the tone I record with. I force myself to stick with that tone because that is the tone that I recorded my track with. If anything, that would be the tone which brought out my playing for the song. Anytime I have switched tones and reamped the guitar, I found myself finding things I didn't like in my playing with that tone. Then I would try to re-record the troubled parts and then I would just lose the whole spirit of the song. Talk about wasted time, because I wind up undoing what I did and reverting back to my original imperfect tone, which was after all perfect.
I found myself reviewing some unfinished songs I recorded over a year ago, and discovered that the ones I recorded directly from my X3 absolutely rocked in my ears. So, I did an experiment this weekend and recorded straight from my POD, and sure enough, things just rocked. The tone wasn't perfect, but it was working so nicely with my playing, so why should I change it? I'll probably find myself doing things this way more often.
-- Posted from my iPhone... because I can
If anything, I started going back to basics when recording guitar. I find a tone and that's the tone I record with. I force myself to stick with that tone because that is the tone that I recorded my track with. If anything, that would be the tone which brought out my playing for the song. Anytime I have switched tones and reamped the guitar, I found myself finding things I didn't like in my playing with that tone. Then I would try to re-record the troubled parts and then I would just lose the whole spirit of the song. Talk about wasted time, because I wind up undoing what I did and reverting back to my original imperfect tone, which was after all perfect.
I found myself reviewing some unfinished songs I recorded over a year ago, and discovered that the ones I recorded directly from my X3 absolutely rocked in my ears. So, I did an experiment this weekend and recorded straight from my POD, and sure enough, things just rocked. The tone wasn't perfect, but it was working so nicely with my playing, so why should I change it? I'll probably find myself doing things this way more often.
-- Posted from my iPhone... because I can
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Keyboard Lessons
Why didn't my mother do what every normal mother did with their children when they were young, and send me for piano lessons? I've asked this to my wife many, many times? Did she not think I would ever play a piano, just like she thought I would never take the guitar as seriously as I do today? The only reason I really shied away from keyboards was because my mother had this cheezy (and it mean really cheezy) organ in the house whose sound just grated my ears. I grew up in a synagogue where they had a beautiful sounding organ with an amazing organist (and pianist), named Ben Steinberg. I always wanted him to teach me how to play that organ. It had a beautiful sound. The one I had at home sounded cheap, like a toy. I couldn't get serious with it. I found it really easy to get serious with the guitar because it sounded way more beautiful, compared to that organ. Just hearing my sister, Karen, playing some Neil Young on her guitar sounded so much better than the cheese I was squeezing out of that organ. At the very least, had it been a better sounding organ, or at least one I could get serious with, like the one in the synagogue, I probably would have taken to that right away.
I remember when my mother and I would go out to the mall when she had some shopping to do, and I would go whenever I could to the keyboard shop in the mall, and just play on one of those organs there. The sales manager was nice to me and let me play them for a while, as he knew it also kept me out of my mother's hair. He knew that I wouldn't just bang on the keys... I would actually try to make music on them. I remember just how great they sounded. So much better than the toy in our house. Even when I would straight out ask my mother for one of those organs, she didn't get why I was asking for one. I would have played that thing like you wouldn't believe. Even if she wouldn't get me lessons, I probably would have found a way to teach myself. Or, at the very least, I may have asked Ben to teach me how to play such an instrument with both my hands and feet... and hopefully to show me how to get some sweet tones like he did out of the synagogue's organ, even though I knew there was a massive difference between the two.
I used to grow up listening to Elton John. I always wanted to be able to play like him as he uses the piano to accompany his voice. To me, there was something magical about his first few albums. I still listen to those first few albums with amazement. I even have Elton John songbooks that my mother bought me. You'd think that would send her a message that I would have loved to play the piano. I also listened to Yes, thanks to Karen. I didn't listen to Yes for Steve Howe. I listened to Yes because Rick Wakeman's keyboard playing made me want to play music. I also loved listening to Stevie Wonder, Billy Joel and others. Heck, I thought I lost touch with the piano as I grew up with my guitar, until I met one guy in the church who played piano amazingly. Too bad he snubbed me off when I asked him just to teach me to play "rhythm piano" so I can have something to sing to. That hurt!
Even in my late forties, I still have the regret of not having learned to play the piano. I mean really play the piano. Playing that cheesebox organ when I was a kid taught me how to form chords on the keyboard and how to read music, once my mother showed me where middle C was. Sure, I can play pads on a synth, but that feels as far as I can go. I'm not looking to play a classical piano. I just want to play piano. Maybe, I want to blister out a lead on a synth, but I'm not looking to be Jordan Rudess, who I will admit is my keyboard hero, alongside older Elton John and Rick Wakeman.
Don't get me wrong: I love to play guitar. I will never stop loving to play guitar. But, there are times I just want to play a keyboard, be it a piano, organ or synth. I find them fun and intriguing, and I think I have already written some great songs on it, even if I couldn't play them with both hands. Now, I want to be able to play some of the songs I have written... as well as write some new songs on it.
Thanks mom, for not listening to me...
I remember when my mother and I would go out to the mall when she had some shopping to do, and I would go whenever I could to the keyboard shop in the mall, and just play on one of those organs there. The sales manager was nice to me and let me play them for a while, as he knew it also kept me out of my mother's hair. He knew that I wouldn't just bang on the keys... I would actually try to make music on them. I remember just how great they sounded. So much better than the toy in our house. Even when I would straight out ask my mother for one of those organs, she didn't get why I was asking for one. I would have played that thing like you wouldn't believe. Even if she wouldn't get me lessons, I probably would have found a way to teach myself. Or, at the very least, I may have asked Ben to teach me how to play such an instrument with both my hands and feet... and hopefully to show me how to get some sweet tones like he did out of the synagogue's organ, even though I knew there was a massive difference between the two.
I used to grow up listening to Elton John. I always wanted to be able to play like him as he uses the piano to accompany his voice. To me, there was something magical about his first few albums. I still listen to those first few albums with amazement. I even have Elton John songbooks that my mother bought me. You'd think that would send her a message that I would have loved to play the piano. I also listened to Yes, thanks to Karen. I didn't listen to Yes for Steve Howe. I listened to Yes because Rick Wakeman's keyboard playing made me want to play music. I also loved listening to Stevie Wonder, Billy Joel and others. Heck, I thought I lost touch with the piano as I grew up with my guitar, until I met one guy in the church who played piano amazingly. Too bad he snubbed me off when I asked him just to teach me to play "rhythm piano" so I can have something to sing to. That hurt!
Even in my late forties, I still have the regret of not having learned to play the piano. I mean really play the piano. Playing that cheesebox organ when I was a kid taught me how to form chords on the keyboard and how to read music, once my mother showed me where middle C was. Sure, I can play pads on a synth, but that feels as far as I can go. I'm not looking to play a classical piano. I just want to play piano. Maybe, I want to blister out a lead on a synth, but I'm not looking to be Jordan Rudess, who I will admit is my keyboard hero, alongside older Elton John and Rick Wakeman.
Don't get me wrong: I love to play guitar. I will never stop loving to play guitar. But, there are times I just want to play a keyboard, be it a piano, organ or synth. I find them fun and intriguing, and I think I have already written some great songs on it, even if I couldn't play them with both hands. Now, I want to be able to play some of the songs I have written... as well as write some new songs on it.
Thanks mom, for not listening to me...
Friday, January 1, 2010
So hard to say good-bye
I was dreading today as I knew that it was creeping up on me early this morning as Wayne, Jonny and myself were all playing Mario Party until about 4am. Not to mention playing with my granddaughter and grandson all day, as well as a good part of the week. For the week, those kids knew they belonged to their grandfather. Even more so, they knew that grandpa belonged to them. It seemed like my granddaughter knew it so well that having to say good-bye to them today seemed to tear us both apart. Both of us had trouble holding back our emotions. I don't know who was more of a sight. A crying 4-year old girl seems more normal than a weeping man in his late 40's.
I didn't want to go without making our moments special, however. Cassidy and I always loved to play together whenever possible. We would exchange a few keywords that only between us, mattered. It wouldn't matter if mommy, daddy or even grandma couldn't figure out our little mode of communication but that didn't matter because it was between Cassidy and myself. We would look at each other and all it took were those one or two special words between us and we would just look at each other and laugh. I don't know who loved the moment more: her or me?
I made Cassidy a promise before I came out there that we would have ice cream together. No doubt, she didn't forget, and asked me if we could share that bowl of ice cream that I promised. I didn't want to let her down before I left. Of course the weather was not permitting too well, and I think that the winter shock really knocked me on my rear with a cold or something. However, God did provide as Dina did buy some Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream. I filled a bowl and got out two spoons and Cassidy and I sat at the table. I started losing it while I was praying and giving thanks. We then ate ice cream together, and I helped Cassidy put the bigger chunks on her spoon. It wasn't the ice cream that I cared for. It was that one last special moment with my granddaughter that was all I wanted.
I lost it in the ice cream moment because I knew that right after that, it was time to say good-bye. And that's when the tears all flowed. At first, she was holding back the tears. I wasn't, as I was hugging and kissing her good-bye. She saw how sad I was and then, next thing you know, we're both crying.
All I can say is how much I know in my heart just how much she means to me, and I cannot wait for the day when I'll be able to look at her face-to-face and exchange those special words that are just between her and me and share that little laugh that only we could share. My grandchildren have given more so many memories to me in a week. Not that my kids didn't, but this was more special than anything else. These are the Christmas presents that I am going to treasure more than anything else. You won't find these at Wal-Mart, Long & McQuade, or even at The Apple Store.
I didn't want to go without making our moments special, however. Cassidy and I always loved to play together whenever possible. We would exchange a few keywords that only between us, mattered. It wouldn't matter if mommy, daddy or even grandma couldn't figure out our little mode of communication but that didn't matter because it was between Cassidy and myself. We would look at each other and all it took were those one or two special words between us and we would just look at each other and laugh. I don't know who loved the moment more: her or me?
I made Cassidy a promise before I came out there that we would have ice cream together. No doubt, she didn't forget, and asked me if we could share that bowl of ice cream that I promised. I didn't want to let her down before I left. Of course the weather was not permitting too well, and I think that the winter shock really knocked me on my rear with a cold or something. However, God did provide as Dina did buy some Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream. I filled a bowl and got out two spoons and Cassidy and I sat at the table. I started losing it while I was praying and giving thanks. We then ate ice cream together, and I helped Cassidy put the bigger chunks on her spoon. It wasn't the ice cream that I cared for. It was that one last special moment with my granddaughter that was all I wanted.
I lost it in the ice cream moment because I knew that right after that, it was time to say good-bye. And that's when the tears all flowed. At first, she was holding back the tears. I wasn't, as I was hugging and kissing her good-bye. She saw how sad I was and then, next thing you know, we're both crying.
All I can say is how much I know in my heart just how much she means to me, and I cannot wait for the day when I'll be able to look at her face-to-face and exchange those special words that are just between her and me and share that little laugh that only we could share. My grandchildren have given more so many memories to me in a week. Not that my kids didn't, but this was more special than anything else. These are the Christmas presents that I am going to treasure more than anything else. You won't find these at Wal-Mart, Long & McQuade, or even at The Apple Store.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
All I really wanted for Christmas
Something must be wrong with me this year... or maybe something has just changed inside me. I actually went through Christmas without experiencing any material wants, or even the feeling of being shortchanged for Christmas. It's really weird for me because I am feeling really happy about this. I actually feel that I received all I ever really wanted for Christmas.
Yeah, sure there are a bunch of nice to have things, but when I look at them right now, I am really not hurting for not having them. They seem to pop out of my head just as quick as they pop in and I am just as happy before and afterwards. Those thing really don't make me happy. They don't have any effect on my emotions at all.
If anything, I got the gift of being able to spend christmas with my grandchildren as well as with my kids. At this point in time, and in my life, what else is there? This, to me, was the best christmas that I could ever ask for. I'm also grateful for having my video camera with me so I can take all of these memories with me.
Like I said, it's all I really wanted for christmas, and I got it.
-- Posted from my iPhone... because I can
Yeah, sure there are a bunch of nice to have things, but when I look at them right now, I am really not hurting for not having them. They seem to pop out of my head just as quick as they pop in and I am just as happy before and afterwards. Those thing really don't make me happy. They don't have any effect on my emotions at all.
If anything, I got the gift of being able to spend christmas with my grandchildren as well as with my kids. At this point in time, and in my life, what else is there? This, to me, was the best christmas that I could ever ask for. I'm also grateful for having my video camera with me so I can take all of these memories with me.
Like I said, it's all I really wanted for christmas, and I got it.
-- Posted from my iPhone... because I can
Saturday, December 26, 2009
The Greatest Christmas Present I Ever Had
One would think that my Christmas presents started off with an iTunes gift card. No, it began much earlier than that! It began when I walked through the gate and saw my two beautiful daughters waiting anxiously to run up to me and hug me, like the little girls I knew them to be a long time ago. Yet, in my heart there they were as my two little girls. There were tears of joy among us and I hugged them tightly and gave them both a bunch of kisses. They were daddy's little girls.
It gets better for me as I go to our in-law's house to celebrate and see my grandchildren. I know they were a little shy as they haven't really seen their grandfather outside of video conferencing, but you should have seen them both warm up to me. My grandson eventually gave me a bunch of bugs and kisses and my granddaughter and I played for a long time with the penguins that I gave them. We had lots of fun.
Today, we celebrated Christmas dinner with them and I even got to play some Christmas carols on the guitar that Jonny brought. He brought it especially for me. So, I played songs that the kids and grandkids could sing to and just to see the smiles on their faces when they sang felt magical.
Just to be with everyone on Christmas is magical. This has truly made my Christmas. If anything, I'm especially glad I brought both my still camera and my video camera.
I'll probably wind up using the iTunes card by next week, buying a couple of my favourite Stephen Curtis Chapman albums which is great. However the memory of this Christmas will far outlive the holidays and will be something I will be able to carry with me for a long time to come. The only better gift would be the opportunity to make more of these memories.
-- Posted from my iPhone... because I can
It gets better for me as I go to our in-law's house to celebrate and see my grandchildren. I know they were a little shy as they haven't really seen their grandfather outside of video conferencing, but you should have seen them both warm up to me. My grandson eventually gave me a bunch of bugs and kisses and my granddaughter and I played for a long time with the penguins that I gave them. We had lots of fun.
Today, we celebrated Christmas dinner with them and I even got to play some Christmas carols on the guitar that Jonny brought. He brought it especially for me. So, I played songs that the kids and grandkids could sing to and just to see the smiles on their faces when they sang felt magical.
Just to be with everyone on Christmas is magical. This has truly made my Christmas. If anything, I'm especially glad I brought both my still camera and my video camera.
I'll probably wind up using the iTunes card by next week, buying a couple of my favourite Stephen Curtis Chapman albums which is great. However the memory of this Christmas will far outlive the holidays and will be something I will be able to carry with me for a long time to come. The only better gift would be the opportunity to make more of these memories.
-- Posted from my iPhone... because I can
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Open wounds...
Whoever said that time heals all wounds, obviously never lived my life. I'm starting to believe that wounds inflicted on children leave nasty scars that will never go away. Not to mention the recurrence of certain occasions that were once supposed to be joyful, serve as constant reminders of our inflictions. And, each year, so it seems, they seem to dig into these wounds like a dull and dirty knife not only leaving a bigger wound, but infecting everything around it. Things just don't get better on their own in time. They just don't seem to heal.
It seems this time, the first day of Chanukah has given me the present of reopening my childhood wounds. They obviously couldn't wait until the 7th day. They feel somewhat deeper than before as I woke up this morning in tears. I haven't wanted to crawl out of my studio in the basement to even talk to anyone. I've just wanted to stay down here. I don't even have any music on. It's just silent today. For some reason, the feelings from my wounds feel stronger than before and I seem to just want to stay out of everyone's way for fear of lashing out uncontrollably. If anything, I feel safe if I stay out of everyone's way today. I even saw that I had some Chanukah presents upstairs, but I don't even feel like I can open them.
It's funny how I seem to be able to walk around the rest of the year as if everything is okay. It's almost like I'm going around with a band-aid on, and as soon as this time rolls around, the band-aid gets painfully ripped off. I'm starting to feel at my age, as I am just a few years of turning 50, that it would take a God-like miracle to heal this wound. It sometimes makes me wonder why He hasn't done so. It's not like I really wish to stay wounded.
It seems this time, the first day of Chanukah has given me the present of reopening my childhood wounds. They obviously couldn't wait until the 7th day. They feel somewhat deeper than before as I woke up this morning in tears. I haven't wanted to crawl out of my studio in the basement to even talk to anyone. I've just wanted to stay down here. I don't even have any music on. It's just silent today. For some reason, the feelings from my wounds feel stronger than before and I seem to just want to stay out of everyone's way for fear of lashing out uncontrollably. If anything, I feel safe if I stay out of everyone's way today. I even saw that I had some Chanukah presents upstairs, but I don't even feel like I can open them.
It's funny how I seem to be able to walk around the rest of the year as if everything is okay. It's almost like I'm going around with a band-aid on, and as soon as this time rolls around, the band-aid gets painfully ripped off. I'm starting to feel at my age, as I am just a few years of turning 50, that it would take a God-like miracle to heal this wound. It sometimes makes me wonder why He hasn't done so. It's not like I really wish to stay wounded.
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