This is a short one, another spell with the mysterious Eve in Roppongi where she has found sanctuary with David. Like all of the sections, completely revised from that which my agent shopped with all the conviction of a limp noodle. I'm convinced... about 40 hardcore readers seem convinced. The rest think this is easy.  

​#endwriter

Azabu, 6:43 am
Eve opened her eyes with a start, not quite sure where she was––panic forming and breaking in an instant, a long shudder left in its wake. She was at the gaijin house, she could move. Yesterday’s draining numbness, Ken’s body  heavy on her, was more than mere recollection. It was physical––the imprint of vivid, unforgettable horror branded permanently on her psyche. Searching for a reason, she forced herself to relive the sensation…the enforced lethargy that had extended well beyond a lack of sensation to the legs–– a slowness to her entire being, a sense of being down a long hallway from herself. A feeling she somehow associated with extra-strength tranquilizers. If she had felt it then, she knew it now––free of its effects on her system, able to triangulate––she had been drugged. ​

Eve reached back, still no energy to take her past the minimum requirements of breathing. There had been no rape involved she thought, no mental or physical coercion. She had been put to sleep, simple, lain there passed out through a killing that should have roused even the most comatose…..      
   
Eve’s gaze wandered across shoji, time-warped glass, and centered on David, sprawled out on his futon, arms half-curled around a pillow. She took in his profile as he slept, the thin line of lips curving to a delicate nose that contradicted his rough-around-the-edges demeanor, all shaggy hair and two-day stubble. He owed her nothing, there was no reason for her to stay. More to the point, how long before staying here would feel like a prison? A day at most, she thought, racking her brains––she had plenty of friends, was there anyone she could really trust? They must have a description of her, be looking for a foreign woman… a corporate executive or a teacher or––most likely in that particular neighborhood––some combination of dancer or hostess.

Eve sat up, sensing a pause in David’s breathing. He stretched and turned over, forehead bunched into a slight frown, just short of waking. Wanting more time to think, she summoned strength, pulling herself unevenly into a standing position and grabbed a damp towel from the hook on the door. 

​#AriPark

I long for the time when hipster meant something. Oh wait, that was the Beats.

Every time I have a bad news day I look for something to balance. Total life appreciation. Today, according to the Guardian, it was about how roads will soon be used to generate solar electicity. #TLA

Here we go... welcome to the world that apparently many wanted. In case you are wondering, "This is a radical departure from President Obama's current policy."

Trump is escalating a new arms race with Putin, as far as I can see. Far from being one to calm tensions (as with China  re: Taiwan).  I always thought the hypothesis of "Clinton more likely to lead down nuclear war path" was flawed. Faced with typically aggressive Russion utterances, Trump must amplify what was hinted at (aiming for increased forward facing nuclear capacities) to have the last word. 

I was reminded by Nils that Trump's post election view was this: "countries should spend more on their own defence budgets, and forgo US protection, because "we can't afford to do it anymore" Japan and South Korea should  develop nuclear weapons "because it's going to happen anyway." If this was his laizzez-faire attitude to proliferation in theory, you know that he is a knee jerk when put to the test. Typically behavior that makes many people skittish and wonder, are we human or are we dancers.

What seemed idle talk is replaced by a football.

Oh wait, I forgot, it's only Twitter. #TweetWars

I am up to five songs from Fabric - Eat the Sun on Youtube. I really don't promote because you know under the under feels so much more managable. You can retain a focused thought process and message if the audience is suitably small. This one should be self explanatory.  #fabric #ChasingSun

Meanwhile the depths that human society has fallen to over the past 20 years (culmination: Trump) has been ascribed* to Ross in the sitcom Friends:
​
"Maybe intellectuals have always been persecuted and shoved in lockers, but something in my gut tells me we’re at a low po​int — where social media interaction has replaced genuine debate and political discourse, where politicians are judged by whether we’d want to have a beer with them, where scientific consensus is rejected, where scientific research is underfunded, where journalism is drowning in celebrity gossip."

Sylvia Klimaki noted on FB "The irony (is)....if it hadnt been for the social media the chances of me reading this article would have been really low."

Meanwhile, Galen Bepler pointed me to this provocative piece The Four Stages of Life that begins "Life is a bitch. Then you die. So while staring at my navel the other day, I decided that that bitch happens in four stages. Here they are." Despite the comedic schtik, which caused me to comment "This sounds pessimistic," I came around the fact that it described people I know in uncomfortably close ways. Must be good writing. 

* ​Further reading:  How a TV Sitcom Triggered the Downfall of Western Civilization by David Hopkins.

It has been interesting putting social media to what I believe is its proper purpose.... promoting a creative project. Okay, so the messages may read as stock... they are... I don't have time to individually tell the 200 or so ppl who might be interested in the music about it.
​
Nor do I have the desire to do so. Seek and ye shall find. Yada yada.

Those who respond positively have, as usual, surprised me. As Charlie Brown said, as he waited yet another year for the Great Pumpkin to arrive, "You never really know who is on the same wavelength until you find out."​

I'm the first to dismiss contrived "cute kids try weird food/teens listen to Nirvana/grandparents try pot/lesbians kiss men" for the first time videos. But I can't get this line out of my head, when faced with pig's blood pudding (dinuguan): "Blended dirt?" Mind you I had the exact same reaction as most of these kids to balut (still have not tried duck embryo in the shell). Wonder what reaction my timely Philippine tribal flute fusion would elicit.

Speaking of which, because the Internet:

First track of the Fabric album Chasing Sun (really hate how Youtube gravitates to the picture of me within a video 98 percent composed of beautiful nature).

Lost Upward was my introduction to the world of studios. I wanted to show John what I could do so I layered about five flutes and flute-like utensils (sharpened bamboo stick) within 30 minutes. Channeling memories of recent travels in Mindoro, including Pandan Island, Puerto Gallera bayou, Mambarao, and the Malasimbo Festival up in the mountains. 

The sound was dense and my mom (no less) suggested losing about a minute from the tune, as it lost her interest. I eventually came up with the idea of taking the tracks and editing them on my own, bringing certain sounds in and out and adding light percussion and vocals. The deep thudding jaw harp as a rhythm piece was musical interpreter Paolo's inspired discovery. 

Lost Upward (Shulenberger):

Damon Shulenberger - flutes, bamboo stick, shaker
Paulo Ramos - cymbals, jaw harp percussive
John De Lumagod - drums

Recorded at Alchemy, Dumaguete, Philippines, May, 2016.
John De Lumagod - Engineer.
Photos - Damon Shulenberger, Merry Ann Agustin. 

Like the 12 days of Christmas, I am releasing the dozen songs that make up the song cycle Chasing Sun throughout the month. By January, 2017, they should be up and a full album version released as well (for those who want the whole concept). Plus the higher quality version that stands up to large speakers at iTunes/Apple Music.

I don't have high expectations, because these days people are fairly jaded and have 10 million choices.... that said, music is music, and this project is original. All organic, no beats.... an asset in our technology driven world? Let's listen, share, imbibe, revitalize and see if indeed tribal flute is the elixir... a proto fusion that cuts through the confusion.

The Fabric idea is loosely defined (in my mind) as traveling and interacting with musicians I come across along the way. The lightweight bamboo flute is ideal in this regards. Field recordings of inspired recklessness, raw hums into the recorder, are transformed in the studio into sounds that I can edit to my heart's content and draw out something that moves me. Not taking (what I consider) the easy route of building songs through beat libraries and computer samples. 

My fabric you are born.

Hopefully these songs move you, fellow travelers and railers against the dying of the light. 

#endwriter

P.S. There are two more tracks up as of now, worth checking out on the core Fabric - Chasing Sun page. To listen to the evolving concept (not a random mix) hover over "Uploads: Public" and press "Play All."

#ChasingSun #fabric