Tag Archives: Arts

Bassnectar Live NYE!!

12 Jan

Anna Karenina

2 Jan

Leo Tolstoy exemplifies why literary fiction is sometimes referred to as Language Arts in his  novel Anna Karenina. The language that Tolstoy finessed caused me to pause amidst my fluid motion of unpacking while listening to Anna Karenina during a specific passage in Book 1 Chapter 9 to fully absorb the perfection. Below is the aforementioned excerpt, with the perfect paragraph bolded:

At four o’clock, conscious of his throbbing heart, Levin stepped out of a hired sledge at the Zoological Gardens, and turned along the path to the frozen mounds and the skating ground, knowing that he would certainly find her there, as he had seen the Shtcherbatskys’ carriage at the entrance.

It was a bright, frosty day. Rows of carriages, sledges, drivers, and policemen were standing in the approach. Crowds of well-dressed people, with hats bright in the sun, swarmed about the entrance and along the well-swept little paths between the little houses adorned with carving in the Russian style. The old curly birches of the gardens, all their twigs laden with snow, looked as though freshly decked in sacred vestments.

He walked along the path towards the skating-ground, and kept saying to himself—”You mustn’t be excited, you must be calm. What’s the matter with you? What do you want? Be quiet, stupid,” he conjured his heart. And the more he tried to compose himself, the more breathless he found himself. An acquaintance met him and called him by his name, but Levin did not even recognize him. He went towards the mounds, whence came the clank of the chains of sledges as they slipped down or were dragged up, the rumble of the sliding sledges, and the sounds of merry voices. He walked on a few steps, and the skating-ground lay open before his eyes, and at once, amidst all the skaters, he knew her.

He knew she was there by the rapture and the terror that seized on his heart. She was standing talking to a lady at the opposite end of the ground. There was apparently nothing striking either in her dress or her attitude. But for Levin she was as easy to find in that crowd as a rose among nettles. Everything was made bright by her. She was the smile that shed light on all round her. “Is it possible I can go over there on the ice, go up to her?” he thought. The place where she stood seemed to him a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror. He had to make an effort to master himself, and to remind himself that people of all sorts were moving about her, and that he too might come there to skate. He walked down, for a long while avoiding looking at her as at the sun, but seeing her, as one does the sun, without looking.

Bon Iver – Skinny Love (Das Kapital Rerub)

25 Nov

The fact that a producer can dabble with stems of a song and layer it with basslines and electronic melodies to create a new experience that sets it apart from the original track is quite exhilarating. Having said that, not all songs should be remixed. There are songs whose melodies are so profound to its musical core, and the emotional core of the listener seeking comfort in them, that changing the original formula by the slightest usually results in utter shit. Knowing this, producer Das Kepital has impressed us with the way he subtly rerub’ed one of our favorite songs from 2008.

To celebrate thanksgiving, here at The Music Ninja we want to thank you so much for your daily support and while we can’t invite you’all for an actual dinner, we have a warm and delight rerub of Bon Iver‘s most recognizable tune ‘Skinny Love’ for you to feast on.

Bon Iver – Skinny Love (Das Kapital Rerub)

What Did I learn at Home/School Today?

14 Nov

A few definitions, some new ideas and angles to reshape my perspective on old idea, that’s part of what I learned at school today.

Definitions and New Words:


http://sp.dictionary.com/dictstatic/d/g/speaker.swf [ob-fuh-skeyt, ob-fuhs-keyt]

verb (used with object), -cat·ed, -cat·ing.

1. to confuse, bewilder, or stupefy.
2. to make obscure or unclear: to obfuscate a problem with extraneous information.
3. to darken.
–verb (used with object), -mized, -miz·ing.

to make more active, productive, or the like; energize: an attempt to dynamize the local economy.


http://sp.dictionary.com/dictstatic/d/g/speaker.swf [pol-ee-see-mee, puh-lis-uh-mee]


diversity of meanings.
From Preface to the First Edition of Games For Actors and Non-Actors by Boal, founder of the Theatre of the Oppressed.
“Theatre can also be the repetitive acts of our everyday lives. We perform the play of breakfast, the scene of going to work, the act of working, the epilogue of supper, the epic of Sunday lunch with the family, etc– like actors in a long run of a successful show, we repeat the same lines to the same partners, executing the same movement, at the same times, thousands of times over. Life can become a series of mechanisations, as rigid and as lifeless and the movements of a machine. This type of theatre, encrusted in our lives, we may designate ‘profane ritual(s).’

Phrases like ‘over-dramatizing’, ‘making a scene’, ‘playing it up’, are used to describe situations where people are manipulating or exaggerating or distorting the truth. In this context, theatre and lies are synonymous.

But in its most essential sense, theatre is the capacity possessed by human being-and not by animals- to observe themselves in action. Humans are capable of seeing themselves in the act of seeing, of thinking their emotions, of being moved by their thoughts. They can see themselves here and imagine themselves there; they can see themselves today and imagine themselves tomorrow….


River Rise [India.Arie]

13 Oct

BeMused by Design

River Rise by India Arie [Testimony Vol.2: Love & Politics]

There was always
A power I could feel
It was guidance to tell me the way to go
But nowadays I feel like can’t hear that voice
I’ve been flying blind
I need you to come and be my eyes. (be my eyes)
River Rise
Carry me back home
(I cannot remember the way)
River rise
Carry me back home
(I surrender today)
I was always
A charmed flower child
I would sit for hours
And listen to the sky
But nowadays I feel like I don’t have that choice
I’ve been looking down in desperation
I need you to be my inspiration yeah
(My inspiration)
River rise
Carry me back home
(I cannot remember the way)
River rise
Carry me back home
(I surrender today)
I bow down
And I humble myself
I can’t do this
Lord I need your help
All the material things
They feel like chains
If you’re not here beside me
You’re the reason I see
(Help me to remember the way)
I surrender
Help me to remember
Only you can show me
(Only you can show me the way)
I surrender
(I surrender today)
You are the only way
Lord, I need you.

Earth Intruders Music Video [Bjork Prod. by Timbaland]

10 Oct

I become aware of this song and dance, once again:

Song_Earth Intruders_Artist [Bjork]

Music Video_Producer [Timbaland]

The Courage to Create

6 Oct

The Courage to Create by Rollo May

A Book Review

Jump Up In The Air And Stay There_Erykah Badu Ft. Lil Wayne

27 Sep

Jump Up In The Air And Stay There

[Erykah Badu Ft. Lil Wayne]

String Quartet No. 14 (Beethoven)

17 Sep

Make Say Do Think [free write]

15 Sep

Consequence exists because of Time. Time without consequence is a vapid, material based reality, but it is only that–a reality, unsubstantiated by roots in the stuff of real substance. However, although consequences exist only within the context of time like two arrows spinning around the face of a clock, the quality of consequences unbind time’s parameters and supersede the tensed system entirely.

The quality and function of consequence, thus, is paradoxical. Time twists two arrows of consequence into a cross stitch, splitting the purest form of the concept like a prism to white light. We live within the realm of time, and encounter the shattered glass reflections of broken consequences, carrying on and on and on from the moment mind moved matter and made motion with intention. Intentions matter. Intentions are the fundamental magnets of moralities compass rose. Intentions are the basis of the American judicial system. Why? Because the consequences on one true intention are forever. Stretching out simultaneously into the future and the past, consequences carry on through in all directions, in all tenses, defeating a moment and the notion of time’s passage. Once motioned into this world, consequences travel time like musical notes dancing on a rubber acordian.

Ten Day Reflection

12 Sep

BeMused By Design © Showcase Gallery 2010


7 Sep

Shantaram is the 2003 novel written by Gregory David Roberts, a convicted Australian bank robber and heroin addict who escaped from Pentridge Prison and fled to India where he lived for 10 years.

  • I was a revolutionary who lost his ideals in heroin, a philosopher who lost his integrity in crime, and a poet who lost his soul in a maximum security prison. When I escaped from that prison, over the front wall, between two gun towers, I became my country’s most wanted man. Luck ran with me and flew with me to India, where I joined the Bombay mafia. I worked as a gunrunner, a smuggler, and a counterfeiter. I was chained on three continents, beaten, stabbed and starved. I went to war. I ran into the enemy guns. And I survived, while other men around me died. They were better men than I am, most of them; better men whose lives were crunched up in mistakes, and thrown away by the wrong second of someone else’s hate, or love, or indifference. And I buried them, too many of those men, and grieved their stories and their lives into my own.
  • I was going through deep and silent water. Nothing and no-one could make me happy. Nothing and no-one could make me sad. I was tough. Which is probably the saddest thing you can say about a man.
  • There’s a truth deeper than experience. It’s beyond what we see, or even what we feel. It’s an order of truth that separates the profound from the merely clever, and the reality from the perception. We’re helpless, usually, in the face of it; and the cost of knowing it, like the cost of knowing love, is sometimes greater than any heart would willingly pay. It doesn’t always help us to love the world, but it does prevent us from hating the world. And the only way to know that truth is to share it, from heart to heart, just as Prabhakar told it to me, just as I’m telling it to you now.
  • Loves are like that. You heart starts to feel like an overcrowded lifeboat. You throw your pride out to keep it afloat, and your self-respect and independence. After a while, you started throwing people out – your friends and everyone you used to know. And it’s still not enough. The lifeboat is still sinking, and you know it’s going to take down with it. I’ve seen that happen to a lot of girls. That’s why I’m sick of Love.
  • Indians are the Italians of Asia and vice versa. Every man in both countries is a singer when he is happy, and every woman is a dancer when she walks to the shop at the corner. For them, food is the music inside the body and music is the food inside the heart. Amore or Pyar makes every man a poet, a princess of peasant girl if only for second eyes of man and woman meets.
  • I stood in the harsh electric light of that new tunnel, in Bombay’s Arthur Road Prison, and I wanted to laugh. Hey guys, I wanted to say, can’t you be a little more original? But I couldn’t speak. Fear dries a man’s mouth, and hate strangles him. That’s why hate has no great literature: real fear and real hate have no words.
  • Fate gives all of us three teachers, three friends, three enemies, and three great loves in our lives. But these twelve are always disguised, and we can never know which one is which until we’ve loved them, left them, or fought them.
  • That’s how we keep this crazy place together – with the heart…. India is the heart. It’s the heart that keeps us together. There’s no place with people, like my people, Lin. There’s no heart like the INDIAN HEART.
  • It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured. I realized, somehow, through the screaming in my mind, that even in that shackled, bloody helplessness, I was still free: free to hate the men who were torturing me, or to forgive them. It doesn’t sound like much, I know. But in the flinch and bite of the chain, when its all you have got, that freedom is a universe of possibility. And the choice you make, between hating and forgiving,can become the story of your life.
  • I know now that it’s the sweet, sweating smell of hope, which is the opposite of hate; and its a sour, stifled smell of greed, which is the opposite of love.
  • The past reflects eternally between two mirrors – the bright mirror of words and deeds, and the dark one, full of things we didn’t do or say.
  • One of the reasons why we crave love, & seek it so desperately, is that love is the only cure for loneliness, & shame, & sorrow. But some feelings sink so deep into the heart that only loneliness can help you find them again. Some truths about yourself are so painful that only shame can help you live with them. And some things are just so sad that only your soul can do the crying for you.
  • Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope. Sometimes we cry with everything except tears. In the end that’s all there is. Love & its duty, sorrow & its truth. In the end that’s all we have – to hold on tight until the dawn.
  • The difference between news and gossip-News tells you what people did, gossip tells you how much they enjoyed it.
  • Every day, when you are on the run, is the whole of your life. Every free minute is a short story with a happy ending.
  • If fate doesn’t make you laugh, then you don’t get the joke.
%d bloggers like this: