Bombs to My Chest

BOMBS TO MY CHEST
by Scott Giles


see the light outside my head
the darkness of wet city streets.
we all made sacrifices...
i saw you.
sacrifices!

strapping bombs to my soul's chest
getting all misty over
time that you can't talk about.
what is easy, at least for now
what is easy, at least for now.

fading
fading untill we sleep...

see the darkness swimming in my head
the midnight of dark woods.
we all made sacrifices...
i saw you.
i saw you.
you know what i saw.

that time you can't talk about
thick as a lump in your throat.

and until then
until that time we are waiting for
i will keep my silence.

end of line
end of line

My Brother and I Stood on the Shore

My brother and I stood on the shore
And looked out to an ocean
We thought we saw.
But wasn’t the sea we knew.

Tumultuous, bitter, heaving mass
That hid beneath its brazen skin
Deeper thoughts and stillness.
Within its dark bosom sat the future.

And years later, the boy I no longer am,
Standing next to my brother, is innocent.
And I, the man I am, now dark and deep
As the sea’s indigo dreams.

Slowly I learn, and contemplate the
Cold air of the future I live in.
And slowly again, to speak in its presence.
But lessons are like promises.

Sometimes lost.

Sometimes stolen.

Sometimes abandoned.

Other times reserved.

My brother and I stood on the shore
And looked out to a future
We could not have guessed
But I was fortunate not to be alone.

Progress Report: Composing Halbierte Abbildung Part 1

How long will this piece go on? It was going to be somewhere around 10 minutes long. A little piece for orchestra based on a tone row. Nothing much.

It’s now over 30 minutes long and I don’t see an end in sight. And the end is now a thing. If you’ve got a work that’s relatively short you can end it well enough. But once an audience has invested 20 or more minutes into listening to a piece your finale has to be worth hearing!

A further interesting dilemma regards the formal qualities of the piece. It isn’t a symphony or an overture or a series of variations. Rather, the original row is put through a of progression of permutations and constantly developed. It’s sort of like a theme and variations…but it isn’t.

This new work is non-tonal. Terribly out of style! Non-tonal stuff is ancient, being of a kind with pleated pants, wide lapels and Go Go boots. Still, this was the style the music needed to be. That’s the piece. If someone doesn’t like it they can listen to something else. It doesn’t pay to get self-conscious.

The orchestration is odd. It fits, though, a particular orchestra in Madagacar called The Royal Califa Philharmonic Orchestra.

I’m intrigued with using an orchestra that has so many bass instruments (including two euphoniums and two tubas…though I did not write anything for their two trombones. And why? Because…I didn’t have an idea for two trombones. A good rule of orchestration is: don’t use instruments as a matter of course. Use what is useful).

The work is called, Halbierte Abbildung, which simply means something about a bisected figure. The title, as far as I can figure, doesn’t mean anything. It does not describe the method of composition nor does it poetically relate to the experience of hearing the music. That said, I did not randomly pick a name!

For some reason this struck me as the title of this piece. Perhaps it does say something about the music, that subconsciously I did choose a name that somehow relates to the experience of either composing or listening to the music. If so, then the meaning is consciously lost on me.

http://www.myspace.com/califaphil

Can You Do Anything?

What can one do?

Anyone can accomplish whatever they want…just not whenever they want. Even simple things…like going to work, getting a job, buying a car…require effort. After a while one notices that so-called extraordinary things are no more difficult to achieve than the apparently mundane ones. One might as well do something extraordinary!

On TV and magazines they always make it out that only a few people have the ability to be great at something. They appeal to a defeatist attitude, which is seductive in its quiet message, “It’s all right to fail.”

Now, I happen to be of the opinion that it is all right to fail. What the hell: failure is a big part of life and, though not often pleasant…well, there it is. But the way that failure is popularly presented smells of provoking defeatism. It reeks of robbing people of their will. “This person is TALLENTED,” (whatever that means!), “…and you aren’t, so get back in line.”

To accomplish things one has to have patience. It is a matter of always practicing. One practices their life every day as a musician practices their instrument. Eventually, one becomes a virtuoso at life.

You have responsibilities? Excellent. In some ways this can hinder you but not as much as a lot of folks make out. Our responsibilities partially define us. Isn’t it often an honor to be relied upon?

When my daughter was born I felt liberated. Since I was fourteen my life had been about myself. When I became a father when I was 28 I was relieved of the burden of myself. My life was no longer about my comfort, my happiness, my anything. Now I lived for someone else.

I have lived an adventuresome life. This was not the end of my adventures, though it was the end of anything that I didn’t absolutely need to do.

And that made me happy.