Monthly Archives: April 2003

I’m doing an electronic set

I’m doing an electronic set at the Marquee tonight as the “Discotronic Force.” Yeah house music. My set starts around midnight.

Still have some work to do to get ready. Last night at 8PM I said to myself, “Right, I’m a serious musician and I’m going to spend the next eight hours working on my set. It’ll be just like working an eight hour job. I’ll finish it off by 4AM and then I’ll get some sleep.”

Then the phone rang: “Hi Philip, wanna come over for a drink?”

“Ahhh… sure!”

Thinking I would drop in on my way to the studio. But I never made it to the studio. I remember I wound up dressed in drag at one point, on my way to being naked, and at the magic hour of 4AM I was stumbling out onto the sidewalk thinking “Yeah right I’m a serious musician.”

I console myself with the belief that many serious musicians would also opt for hot action over actually writing music. Music and sex are closely related. However, since it is not technically feasible for me to get naked at the club tonight, I’ve got an awful lot of beats to slam together this afternoon.

So I’m still not sure what’s going to happen this evening. However, I remain secure in the knowledge that whatever I do will be, as they say, “dope.”

Rugga rugga rugga. I’m sleepy.

The other night someone me

The other night someone me why I haven’t been performing live much lately.

I just want the weather to get nice so I can load up the shopping cart with a bunch of science and go play in parking garages again. No promoters, no flyers, no audience, no bullshit. Just a bunch of beats and basslines echoing around in a huge boomy empty space.

I’d like to go on a tour of Canada’s parking garages this summer. Just pull into town, make some noise in some godforsaken urban space and then pull on out again.

It’s Good Friday. The club

It’s Good Friday. The club is closed tonight so I have the night off work. It’s my first Friday night off in ages.

I took the night off last night. I took the night off on Wednesday too.

I’m preparing myself for the day when I simply never go back. See ya!

A friend and I rented a car yesterday and drove to Saint John, New Brunswick. She called in sick. Rock’n’roll road trip! Had an awesome time, took dozens of pictures. Still sorting through ’em.

I visited my parents in Saint John, and my brother & sister-in-law and I got to see my new niece.

Tonight, on this rare Friday night of freedom, we are having a party at the house. We rented a PA system, and I’m going to give an electronic music performance, and so is Geoffrey, and there will be a DJ.

As luck would have it, the thermostat broke downstairs so it’s a mite chilly. Put a few warm bodies in there and it should be all right.

OK gotta go.

A few days ago I

A few days ago I walked the length of Quinpool Road, from the Rotary all the way up to the business district.

One thing photographs cannot capture is the salty smell of the North West Arm, as the wind blows in from Dingle Tower.

I wound up by dropping into Charlie’s* to say hello to a lovely lady.

*Pronounce it like Frank Sinatra–“Chaaah-lie’s”

  
  
  

Jon Hutt’s opening last night

Jon Hutt’s opening last night at the Fire Point Gallery turned into a lovely soiree.

The show is called Demons and it runs for two weeks. Jon gave an excellent talk last night. He started off by saying that he didn’t know much about art technique, but then he proceeded to speak at length about the crazy techniques he uses to get his effects. He makes uses of ink, spray paint, brake fluid, pancake batter, blow torches and other media. His paintings may be soaked, frozen, burned or all three on their way to the gallery walls.

An interview that the famed art critic Fran├žois Tuti conducted with Mr. Hutt was played back and was quite entertaining.

There was a bit of drama when Agent Crawford from Canada Customs showed up. It seems Mr. Tuti has been having some visa problems. We told Agent Crawford that Mr. Tuti had just left.

“Any idea where he was going?”

“Bangladesh.”

  
  
  

Picture of the week– Vickers

Picture of the week– Vickers hanging from the back door.

Yesterday was my first day off from work in weeks. I had big plans, but the day turned out to be surprisingly unproductive.

“That’s the way it goes,” said Geoffrey.

I did manage to work on a couple of paintings, however. I put one of them up on my wall so I could step back and have a look at it.

I turned my back for a second and heard, “plop.”

Turned back and the wet painting had fallen off the wall and landed face-down on my bed. There is a painting on my bedsheet now.

Well, I’m sure there are ladies in the North End who might find that kind of seductive. “Heh heh heh! My kind of ladies.”

I’m going to run some of my art through the scanner and post it here. Have to make sure it’s dry first.

Here are a couple shots from the Fire Point Gallery opening on Sunday night, along with a photo of the steak from Hell.

  

Geoffrey, Annette and I are going to take formal portraits of ourselves in front of our work as soon as there’s a time when we’re all home together.

This Sunday at 8PM will be the opening reception for Jon Hut’s show. I haven’t seen any of it yet but I think it’s going to be about demons. That’s at the Fire Point Gallery, at Bloomfield House.

I felt really good about the grand opening. The course I’d been teaching finished up that night, so I’d gotten into the gin a little bit. I love a good soiree.

It looks like the gallery is going to be a success. We’ve had people phoning us up to ask about doing shows, and we’re already booked to the end of June.

Some established artists in town have a funny reaction when they hear about it though. “Oh ha ha ha, a domestic gallery, isn’t that cute, just like the thing those people were doing in their bathroom.” I’m starting to get annoyed.

I was telling one guy at the Marquee and he said that he hated those little galleries, “like the Bathroom Gallery and the Wallet Gallery.”

“Fuck you,” I said. “Art belongs to everyone.”

He seemed taken aback by my strong reaction and mumbled something about “Yeah, I guess it can be kind of cool.”

Then I had a telephone conversation with an art critic who seemed a little too condescending for my tastes. It put me in a bad mood.

I stomped downstairs and said, “The Anna Leonowens is going down!

“What are you talking about,” said Geoffrey.

“The Eye Level Gallery… the AGNS… we’re taking them all out. That’s what I’m talking about.” I started doing kung-fu moves in the kitchen. “Here comes Fire Point Gallery. Haiii-YAH!”

I danced around the kitchen and pretended to beat up Geoffrey. “You can’t just go around and beat up all the other art galleries,” he said.

“Why not?” I said. “We’ll call it a ‘performance.’ We’ll go in and beat them up and steal all their shit. It’ll be legendary.” I tried drop-kicking the cat, but he ran away under the counter.

“I want to duel all the other curators. Paintbrushes at twenty paces!”

I am passionate about art but pretentious people piss me off.

P.S. Art is fucking easy.

The course I was teaching

The course I was teaching ended on Sunday, and the post-production job I’d been working on at the studio wrapped up yesterday. Today is my first day off in weeks. It’s beautiful outside. I believe I will soon take my camera and go on a nice long walk.

I’d been getting a little tired lately–lots of work and late hours, combined with poor eating habits. I’m a carnivore with a fast metabolism and I need lots of food to be happy.

Yesterday I resolved to get things back on track. I got home from the studio around 6 and cooked a nice piece of salmon. A couple hours later I was hungry again, so I had a steak. Then around 11pm I felt like a little snack, so I cooked and ate a big thing of chicken wings.

That’s a lot of meat. By 11:30pm I had so much energy I didn’t know what to do with myself. I got up from the kitchen table and started jumping up and down in the middle of the kitchen floor. I was pacing back and forth in the kitchen.

I went up to my room and put on Schubert Symphony Number Four and jumped up and down on my bed and waved my arms around like a conductor.

I made a list of things I wanted to do that night and it had 31 items on it. To start with, I decided I wanted to write a screenplay. I have a disc with some screenplays on it. I decided to read one to get an idea about the format. I read Blade Runner and then I proceeded to read Fargo and Ghostbusters and Interview With The Vampire.

In some ways, I enjoy reading off a laptop screen more than reading from a book. I went into the dark living room and sat on the couch and read in the dark off the glowing laptop screen. I thought it was great being able to read in the dark without my mother coming in and saying, “You’re going to ruin your eyes.”

My roommate Geoffrey came downstairs on his way to the kitchen and I called out from the couch. “Hey I’m reading in the dark!” I said.

“That’s really bad for your eyes,” he said.

“No, it’s a laptop,” I said. “It’s great. You can sit in total darkness and read.”

“Reading from a computer,” he said. “That’s supposed to be even worse for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “It has something to do with the light source being surrounded by darkness, and your eyes are trying to adjust to the light and to the darkness at the same time, and apparently it can really screw you up.”

“But it’s no different from watching a movie,” I said. “You go to a movie, and there’s the screen, and then the whole room is dark.”

“Hmm,” said Geoffrey.

Geoffrey and Erin hung out in the kitchen for a while, and then Erin came into the living room.

“Hey, guess what!” I said. “I’m reading in the dark.”

“That’s really bad for your eyes,” said Erin.

“That’s exactly what he wants you to say,” said Geoffrey.

“It’s no different from watching a movie,” I said. I was reading the screenplay to Interview With The Vampire.

“I find it’s always worse with computers,” said Erin. “My eyes always hurt if I look at a computer screen in the dark for too long.”

“I feel fine,” I said.

“Mm-hmm,” said Geoffrey. “Check in with us in a couple of hours.”

A little while later Geoffrey and I were both sitting in the living room in the dark. I closed my laptop and got up and suddenly fell to the floor.

“Aiieeee!” I said. “My eyes!” I started rolling around on the living room floor. “NO! It burns! It burns!”

“What’s wrong with you,” said Geoffrey.

I was pretending to claw my eyes out. “Nooo! The pain! It burns!”

I rolled around some more and then grabbed his ankle and tried to bite it.

“Ow! Hey! Stop that!” said Geoffrey. He got all twitchy and pulled his foot up onto the chair. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m really into my personal space,” Geoffrey said later. Geoffrey’s from Ontario.

The dance was a crazy

The dance was a crazy costume party. I showed up after work feeling a little nondescript, in my sound tech uniform of black running shoes and loose-fitting black t-shirt.

I just hung out by myself in the corner for a little while. The music was loud. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

Soon enough I spotted my friend S—- wearing some crazy orange getup. “Come on and join the party, Philip!” she said. She grabbed my arm and I followed. She pulled me onto the crowded dance floor and started to swing me around playfully.

I took that opportunity to stumble into a hot young cutie I’d had my eye on. She was wearing a slinky red velvet dress with a wild headdress.

I wound up with my arm around her and around S—-, and the three of us moved together for a few seconds, laughing.

S— disengaged and wandered off with a big smile on her face. I still had my arm around the waist of the girl in the red velvet dress.

At events like these, in situations such as this one, there is a specific duration of time during which a gentleman is permitted to have his arm around the waist of a strange woman. After that, it is his duty to release her.

I let go of the girl in the red dress. She stayed right where she was, with her hip and her side pressed against me.

I felt a deep breath enter my body. There are certain moments when suddenly you just know about a person. And it seems like, the sooner it comes after you meet someone, the hotter it is.

She put her mouth up to my ear and said something. I couldn’t make out her words but I was pretty sure they included the word “condoms.”

I leaned in close to her. Mmm, something smelled good. Cinnamon?

“What?” I said, shouting over the music.

She repeated herself and it definitely included the word “condoms.” But I couldn’t make out anything else. Possibly she had a trace of an accent.

I frowned in concentration, trying to figure out her words. I wished to god I could understand what this woman was saying to me.

I looked at her. I realized with a start that her elaborate headdress had a box of condoms woven into the front of it.

Then our eyes met. A little electrical shock passed between us.

We just stood there for a moment looking at each other. It was like our faces became magnetically stuck together. She had the most intense blue eyes. She was smiling, and her lips were the same colour as her red velvet dress.

She had her arm around me now, pulling me close. She arched her back a little to look at me.

Oh my god she had a gorgeous body. It felt like her entire body was smiling up at me.

She spoke and this time I could clearly make out every word.

“Would you like to do a lady?” she said.

My arms and legs were tingling, and I felt warmth rushing into my stomach. It’s hard to believe that a person could make you feel so amazing.

I looked up and noticed we were standing in front of a long hallway. The hallway stretched out and ended in the distance in a flight of stairs. Along the sides of the corridor were many doors. The hallway seemed to suggest infinite, wonderful possibilities.

“Shall we go see what’s down the hallway?” I said.

rap rap rap rap rap rap

“Philip…?”

“Hmmmnnmnnm…”

rap rap rap

“Philip? Are you in there?”

“Hmmrrrrggg… Yeah.”

“I was wondering if you had any plans for the next hour or two?”

“Yeah… Sleeping.”

“Do you have any plans beside sleeping?”

“No!”

“Well… I was wondering if you’d like to come out and jam for a while this afternoon.”

“Whrrrr…” I said. “What time is it anyway?”

“It’s twelve-thirty.”

I said, “You woke me up when I was just about to undress a lady.”

~ It’s the middle of

~ It’s the middle of the night. What am I doing up? Last night was a good night but today I was tired and cranky and had a headache from secondhand smoke at the Marquee Club.

I tried to find a sub to work for me tonight, just for the hell of it, but no luck. So I decided that after I finished at the club I would come straight home and go to bed.

But I had a little tune bouncing around in my head so I stopped in at the studio after work to record it.

Tomorrow I work at the studio all day, and then I’m at the club all night doing sound for Mark Bragg. I really ought to be asleep right now.

I’ve been working on a post-production job at the studio and I expect it to be winding up tomorrow. There should be a big fat cheque waiting for me for my efforts. Also, the course I’ve been teaching finishes up on Sunday. There should be a nice little cheque for me for my efforts.

And then Monday is payday at the Marquee. Geez, I’ll have to go out and buy myself a chocolate milkshake or something. Maybe a new catnip toy for Vickers.

Vickers is walking around purring at my feet right now. Ya want some lovin’ buddy? Hey–did ya miss me?

Next week will be great. I’m hoping to have some free time to relax a little bit, work on some music, maybe do a little painting. I want to take lots of pictures outdoors. Also catch up on the email (sorry everybody).

Tonight at midnight at the

Tonight at midnight at the Marquee I will performing a set of beats and bass for your listening and dancing pleasure. It might sound a little bit like this:

~ arcedit.mp3 [250K mp3]

Now I’m off to the Cornwallis jam space to finish writing my set. Drum&bass tracks take forever to write.

Okay, here’s one for you

Okay, here’s one for you in honour of April Fool’s Day.

Take a penny out of your pocket, lick it and stick it to your forehead. “Water has amazing adhesive properties,” you say.

Take the penny off, moisten it again, and stick it on your friend’s forehead. “See if you can get it to fall off without touching it.”

So your friend gets going with the eyebrows and cheek muscles and so on.

What your friend doesn’t know: when you took your hand away from his or her forehead, you took the penny away with it.

Feeling the moist spot and thinking the penny is still there, your friend keeps on making the most ridiculous faces.

“Hey guys, come over here and watch this,” you say. Offer no explanation.