Nothing like the smiling fucking face of mediocrity.

let a man be lost
for once in his lifetime
to live out his whole life
all in a night's time
to sit in his own mind
stare out at the skyline
to know that he's got plenty of time
left in his lifeline.
.

Fish Vol. I

(click to enlarge)







We are all connected.
.

Meet Fish

.


Vonnegut used the written word. Marvin Gaye used rhythm and blues. But I don't think anyone has ever used a fish to express social commentary, daily observations or just personal insight. Enter Fish. More to come (hopefully) soon.
.

I Pity the Heirs and Heiresses of Huge Fortunes.

After all,

what does someone,

who has nothing to do,

do?

The Great Wave at Kanagawa

"The Great Wave" by Katsushika Hokusai is one of my all-time favorite paintings and there is so much to be said about it. One could make the comparison of how ruthless and menacing the wave looks against the stillness and tranquility of the distant mountain. Or notice the wave that is directly beneath the larger one which is covering the boat closest to the observer. Its small bump and angled peak instantly reminds any native of Mount Fuji which is a timeless symbol of Japanese culture. It's almost like a subliminal joke that Hokusai carved in (it is a woodblock painting). But I'm no art history major nor am I pretending to be anyone other than someone who looked up all these facts on Google.

What I first noticed when I came across "The Great Wave" was how claw-like and threatening the wave looked especially in the face of these waif-like boats. Imagine how it must look from the sailor's perspective! But as the snow line on the distant mountain indicates, the painting takes place during springtime and specifically during the first harvest of the "Benito"--special tuna that will fetch half a years worth of a commoner's salary from royalty who will buy this delicacy as a sign of prominence.

So as much as these fishermen are going "oh shit" in the face of such chaos, each one of them knows that they have half a years salary worth of "Benito" in their cargo and no wave of any stature is going to stop them from getting to the marketplace.

Everybody's trying to figure out where their problems lie in the overall continuum from bad to good, right? And whether they're big or small..although, we don't have that perspective. All problems feel the same--like things we have to get over or around or through or across. Who knows what the next "Great Wave" in my life will be or how many times I'll go "oh shit." But you know what...I have my own damn "Benito".

Cheers, mate. Happy 2010!

The Frontal Lobe--Uncut

Thank you. Before I write anything, thank you. I've never thought a falling tree made any noise if no one was around to hear it and the same would go for the words on this blog if no one bothered to take a glance or peruse my writing. So thank you from the bottom of my heart.

-the Frontal Lobe team

These are a bunch of interesting ideas and thoughts I've wanted to blog about for a long time. However, usually in order to get from my head to the Frontal Lobe, they undergo revisions, drafting, filtering and what not in order for it to be suitable for the general public. I guess most of my posts are only a vestige of my brain and its sonic waves, but that's going to change because these next few snippets are as raw as they get.

It's like musical improvisation--sometimes you'll get an amazing, genius, beautiful liquid from the cosmos and other times it's like a stale marshmallow that no one bothered to put on a stick and roast in the fire. And to ensure the spontaneity of this post, I've been consciously neglecting the "backspace" button and typing with vigor. So, that might contribute to the loquaciousness if you were wondering. If you don't like where one snippet is going...skip to the next. So here goes...

The thing about great musicians is that they play one note and it's a beautiful thing. One time a friend of mine went to see Thelonios Monk play--the great pianist Thelonios Monk--at Carnegie Hall which is a pretty big gig for jazz musician. He came out and everybody was there with a lot of excitement around. The stage had nothing but a big grand piano with a pot of flowers on it. Everyone was in their fancy suits and ties and ready to see the amazing Monk do his thing. So he walks out onstage and just slams the pot and plants into the piano. He played just one note and it went "BINGGGG" and just split. And that was probably the best concert ever; I wish I was there to see it.



For your viewing pleasure:





















Past meets present. It's like I'm about to hand the baton to him which is ironic because my brother was the one who passed on a lot of advice and expectations to me. But I take this picture pretty symbolically in that I've followed my brother's footsteps pretty closely so far. Running, playing the violin...all that stuff was done by mon frere before me. Going to Illinois and studying engineering is the first real divergent step from this nice, manicured path he's made for me these last 18 years (My brother is graduating from Stern on Wednesday). I guess there's a sense of pride in being able to shape my own identity now. That and pretty big fears about doing something my brother can't advise me on.

Speaking of which...

Someone mentioned feeling apprehensive about the next four years...as if a bigger understatement could be made. Whoever said that though is thinking way too far ahead. What about these next four months? I can't even begin to tell you how hard it is to put away the feeling every time I hang out that this moment..it's all coming to an end--that the number of "tomorrows" are running out and that instead of having an unabashedly good time, there's a bittersweet aftertaste to each laugh, smile, high five or giggle. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much.

But then I realize how blessed I am to feel this sad and every rosebud of love and thanks inside of me blooms into gratitude for every single second I get to spend with them.

I guess I intended to have a post set aside for just straight up blogging because there was no way I could have articulated that in a way that could fully encompass the depth of my feelings. That's still not the best way I can describe it, but it feels better to have the essence of it down.

But all that really means is that there's just one last thing I want to do besides spend copious amounts of time hanging out. It's going to sound really corny but that's just love. So I'm going to experiment with this love thing...giving love...feeling love...I know it's really lame but it's the last thing I got to check out...before I check out.