transduction myth

Ok, there's a guitar player who's really messy- all scraping and sliding and buzzing slurs - NOT CLEAN. But, she plays hex pitch trackers, and somehow her messiness is understood by the synth. The only and messiest mess to be understood. a special and meaningful mess, she's my hero

//oct 30th 2009 edit- forget the hex trackers, do it mono. phase relations magnified to melodies. rubbing down, digging into the fretboard, mining for shapes

drinking down Taglioni's cubes

Alluded to briefly last post, catagories of sparkle meeting each other makes for a lovely time. "placing a piece of artificial ice in her jewel casket or dressing table where, melting among the sparkling stones, there was evoked a hint of that atmosphere of the starlit heavens over the ice-covered landscape."

Last afternoon I gave my lucky iridescent orange espresso cup it's first filling with an almost matching cantaloupe agua fresca. Two aging pieces of ice floating there had no other colors to reflect and so almost disappeared, but remained as rough spots, looking quite a bit like torn bits of cantaloupe. That cup's been with me a year and a half, mostly living with a little copper snake who used to prefer sharing the control surface of a Boss PS-2 with a tube of C5-A loctite. The cup he shared with a few stainless steel 1/4" 4-40 screws from Don Buchla's house in it whose finish I've yet to find the equal of, but stayed on the saucer-porch. Sometimes a magneton-pokemon would come over to visit with the silvery screws. But now, the cup's getting ready to travel, saying gooodbye to the friends and burrowing into a duffle bag full of softies. The PitchShifter-2 is on it's way to Scott Jaeger's wahid-ithnan-thalatha--Stilton-Adaptor, but softly

I ought to take a few pictures of these old friends sharing a glass. I hope the recreations give some of the old feeling, hope the little snake doesn't feel uncomfortable or stick to the cantaloupe film.