all things mau

the remix

The instrumental

The story behind this post

If you don’t understand this post, it’s ok. I forgive you.

red team representing.

Muxtape has been making the rounds among the twitterati. Funny how such a simple concept can spread so fast. It’s got a tinge of nostalgia and a hint web 2.1… lack of functionality. Do one thing. Do it well. The girls of popSiren, the show I edit at revision3.com tipped me off on this wonderful alternative. You can make a neat mixtape with music you own, as long as you can upload to a reliable server, as well as with other peeps music.

Here’s an all instrumental mix for your right brain needs.

Take a moment to be mesmerized by the world geekiest musical instrument turned into a thing of beauty.

Could Pamelia be any cuter? It’s always fascinating to see introverts who shine when they expose their soul without words. Some people just don’t have the gift of gab, but give them a vessel for externalizing thought and emotion and you end up with poetry deeper than words. Even if that vessel happens to be an electronic devise known primarily for it’s use in Sci-Fi B-movies sound effects.

I get a dash of pride, and cup of cringe in viewing this. I assume most of us do when looking at one’s early work in any artistic endeavour. The phrase, “if I only knew then, what I know now” comes to mind often.

Hilo, Hawaii

It’s damp, it’s dirty, it’s moldy. We stayed 1 day at Uncle Billy’s Hotel, one of the most expensive depressing motels i’ve ever stayed in. The carpeted canter-levered balcony/hallways sagged dangerously in it’s sogginess. Our sliding screen door fell off with every sliding attempt. Obviously, we should have asked for a non-smoking room. We had the kind of sleep where you even cringe all night, disgusted and cold from not using the provided comforter. And I loved it.

I wanted more than anything to buy a 40 of miller high life, sweat in a wife beater, and chain smoke in front of the TV. I’ve lived a decent and clean life, and the opportunity to loosen up a bit was fantastic. Alison wanted nothing of it. The cherry on top was that our neighboring room, divided by a locked door with a towel jammed under it, barely masked the fighting straight out of Jerry Springer. Can you please translate the Hawaiian pidgin I recorded that night, playable above?