tweet
3 weeks ago
Wednesday, August 26
Finger Paintings
She loves the paint, the meaning.. Poetry etched into her wood. Lyrics effulgent.
Here's an alternate link to the finger painting slideshow.
Friday, August 21
Nine Ninths Jealous - Live Looping
NMW of Bullets in a Burning Box rehearsing the song "Nine Ninths Jealous" for an upcoming party on the boat studio Lotus. He plays a Steinberger guitar and uses Ableton Live 8 with an ancient Powerbook for live looping. The drums are recorded beforehand on a Trigger Finger using Logic. Yes, this video was filmed on the boat.. Thank the vicious, sweet Sea for allowing (for once).
Wednesday, August 19
Experimental Rock Guitar Sess..
Spazing out on the guity.. Expect a wayward sense of timing (and complete disregard for coherence)...
Monday, July 6
Announcing "Eye Love"!
In the same way that the prior sentence is likely a run-on, the song seems to linger just a bit too long. Though, fans have called it "badass", "cool" and "thumpable." According to one -- entirely mislead -- fan, it "sounds as if the singer wants something just beyond his reach."
"Eye Love" is a preview of Bullets' upcoming sophomore album, being scribbled on resinous scraps of paper by gremlins cavorting deep within the cave-shaft of your cortex, due in late 2009. According to NMW of Bullets, the album will be "a scythe disguised as a baby rattle."
You want lyrics to "Eye Love"? Cross your fingers that they are actually real.
In an eager -- admittedly unrequitable -- way, anyone may listen to "Eye Love" before everyone else does.
http://BulletsBurning.com/Beloved
Copyright 2009 Bullets in a Burning Box, Inc.
All rights reserved.
ISRC: USTC10090145
Sunday, May 31
My Encounter With Sasquatch on Mount Shasta
Its 2pm and the roundtrip for this ultra is 15 hours.. Oops. I'm a tad late. My intention was to climb as far as the snow-line. Yet here I am parked at Bunny Flat trailhead and there is already plenty of the blindingly-white, crunchy, hard stuff. Whoopee! I'm about to ascend Mount Shasta for the first time.
I remember reading that this giant megalith is technically a volcano, due to blow sometime in the next 400 years. Hmmm... Rock slides are frequent, bears are prevalent and I am soon to find out sasquatch beam their mighty thoughts into the minds of susceptible hikers.
Here I am: a bowl into this, lacing my lucky boots, shrouded in shorts, long-shirt waist-tied, water hanging from belt, food stuffed in pockets, and kneeling to finger mud beneath my eyes to combat the snow-blind.
Trail? What trail? Snow must be covering the luxury, so I follow the other mountaineers clad to the hilt, weighted with their crampons, yodeling boots, massive packs and helmets. Reminds me of all the backpackers I saw traveling the world with overladen, overplanned, untrusting turtle shells stooping their shoulders. I paraphrase John Muir: "The best way to start a journey is to throw some tea and bread in a sack and jump the back fence." Wise words from a national hero?
Crunch. Crunch. Huff. Puff. Up the sunny snow-laden forest I step, vertigo still a mile away. I pause at a whoopdeedo where four cross-country skiing comrades whisk by with a couple "hi"s.
Crunch. Crunch. Breathe. Horse Camp: where some of us choose to settle for the night. A working restroom and spring close by, how handy. Up, up I go.
Avalanche Gulch yawns before me, other travelers like ants ascending. Up, up I go.
Here is a steep bit that makes an on-the-way-down toboggan seem an outright pleasure-cessity. Here is a cloud coming to cover my sun. Here is a scary chute of ice that must be trudged in the steps of today's forebears. Thank you, thank you, snow-show-wearers who have preceded me.
Here is a frightening sound like that of an avalanche. Is that thunder? How far is the lake? Oh, just up where that trail of ants disappears into the clouds.
My cloud has grown into a charcoal-colored monstrosity. Cold and feeling endangered, I break on a warmer-than-snow rock to consume my bread, banana and granola. "Branola."
Did anyone see me whiz behind my rock? Thank you. I am cold. Cloud more ominous. I descend.
Skip, skip! Slide, slide. Toboggan wishes slightly satiated. I leap, switch and halloo back to the sunshine. Back to Horse Camp.
Here is my mistake: a veer. One tiny little veer on a snowshoe-tracked track. I imagine my old trail is to my right. This new trail cannot stray too far. Can it?
An hour later panic has struck me. Only an hour or two of sun left. Clouds intermittently stealing the warmth from my wet feet. The trail must be back to the right. Over that ridge. Huff, puff. Yes!? No. Curses. The trail must be back to the left.
What's that? Red snow. Just red snow. Like yellow snow, only red, right? Wait. Red snow. Curses. Bears around?
Running to left, right? Look at my camera's past pictures. They don't help! Fear. Curses. Daylight waning. Fall on my one strength: visualize. I imagine the trail beneath my feet. I imagine myself whooping with joy. I imagine skipping back to my car.
More zig. More zag. No trail. Wait! A faded, crystalized ski track! Something human. It disappears into dirt. Dirt is a good sign. I'm getting lower.
What's that snowy meadow? ... A pink ribbon around that tree! A word on that stump! A signpost! I'm saved. Sand Flat, here I am. But where is that?
A dirt road. I take it. I run. A campfire? I walk. There is a man and his blue, rune-painted truck lounging here. "Purification by fire," he says.
We chat. I spill my relief. "The hairy lords have a powerful presence here," he claims. In my head, one brow lifts inquisitively. There is no need for me to inquire, as he continues: "the sasquatch use their mind power to instill fear and panic into hikers. You can gain a lot of knowledge from them if you can get past your fear." I see. I wonder..
"Welcome back to civilization," he engenders.
--
Here's a link to the Mount Shasta Slideshow on Flickr.
I remember reading that this giant megalith is technically a volcano, due to blow sometime in the next 400 years. Hmmm... Rock slides are frequent, bears are prevalent and I am soon to find out sasquatch beam their mighty thoughts into the minds of susceptible hikers.
Here I am: a bowl into this, lacing my lucky boots, shrouded in shorts, long-shirt waist-tied, water hanging from belt, food stuffed in pockets, and kneeling to finger mud beneath my eyes to combat the snow-blind.
Trail? What trail? Snow must be covering the luxury, so I follow the other mountaineers clad to the hilt, weighted with their crampons, yodeling boots, massive packs and helmets. Reminds me of all the backpackers I saw traveling the world with overladen, overplanned, untrusting turtle shells stooping their shoulders. I paraphrase John Muir: "The best way to start a journey is to throw some tea and bread in a sack and jump the back fence." Wise words from a national hero?
Crunch. Crunch. Huff. Puff. Up the sunny snow-laden forest I step, vertigo still a mile away. I pause at a whoopdeedo where four cross-country skiing comrades whisk by with a couple "hi"s.
Crunch. Crunch. Breathe. Horse Camp: where some of us choose to settle for the night. A working restroom and spring close by, how handy. Up, up I go.
Avalanche Gulch yawns before me, other travelers like ants ascending. Up, up I go.
Here is a steep bit that makes an on-the-way-down toboggan seem an outright pleasure-cessity. Here is a cloud coming to cover my sun. Here is a scary chute of ice that must be trudged in the steps of today's forebears. Thank you, thank you, snow-show-wearers who have preceded me.
Here is a frightening sound like that of an avalanche. Is that thunder? How far is the lake? Oh, just up where that trail of ants disappears into the clouds.
My cloud has grown into a charcoal-colored monstrosity. Cold and feeling endangered, I break on a warmer-than-snow rock to consume my bread, banana and granola. "Branola."
Did anyone see me whiz behind my rock? Thank you. I am cold. Cloud more ominous. I descend.
Skip, skip! Slide, slide. Toboggan wishes slightly satiated. I leap, switch and halloo back to the sunshine. Back to Horse Camp.
Here is my mistake: a veer. One tiny little veer on a snowshoe-tracked track. I imagine my old trail is to my right. This new trail cannot stray too far. Can it?
An hour later panic has struck me. Only an hour or two of sun left. Clouds intermittently stealing the warmth from my wet feet. The trail must be back to the right. Over that ridge. Huff, puff. Yes!? No. Curses. The trail must be back to the left.
What's that? Red snow. Just red snow. Like yellow snow, only red, right? Wait. Red snow. Curses. Bears around?
Running to left, right? Look at my camera's past pictures. They don't help! Fear. Curses. Daylight waning. Fall on my one strength: visualize. I imagine the trail beneath my feet. I imagine myself whooping with joy. I imagine skipping back to my car.
More zig. More zag. No trail. Wait! A faded, crystalized ski track! Something human. It disappears into dirt. Dirt is a good sign. I'm getting lower.
What's that snowy meadow? ... A pink ribbon around that tree! A word on that stump! A signpost! I'm saved. Sand Flat, here I am. But where is that?
A dirt road. I take it. I run. A campfire? I walk. There is a man and his blue, rune-painted truck lounging here. "Purification by fire," he says.
We chat. I spill my relief. "The hairy lords have a powerful presence here," he claims. In my head, one brow lifts inquisitively. There is no need for me to inquire, as he continues: "the sasquatch use their mind power to instill fear and panic into hikers. You can gain a lot of knowledge from them if you can get past your fear." I see. I wonder..
"Welcome back to civilization," he engenders.
--
Here's a link to the Mount Shasta Slideshow on Flickr.
Saturday, February 21
Disentangle Video Release - New Industrial Rock
Disentangle is currently being distributed exclusively on the Zero Demographic Compilation, put together by Mark Alan Miller of Radio Valkyrie Records.
"This compilation is a gathering of electronic and industrial artists and bands under one unifying theme: We are all interested in communicating honestly with the fans, the music consumers, to educate them to the realities, and to dispel many of the myths and misinformation about how artists and bands survive today." Read more...All profits will be donated to the Future Of Music Coalition.
Disentangle is the third in a year-long monthly-ish song & video release project.
Written & performed by Nathanael Matthias Weiss. Vocals, guitar, bass, drums, artwork & production by NMW.
Video features Shireda Dawn Savia, Kjohnn and NMW. Directed by Chise. Costumes by BRee. Filmed in Jacksonville, Oregon.
Saturday, January 17
Disentangle
The meaning behind the song "Disentangle"? When the video comes out on February 16, you might get a few clues. Until then, listen to the song and watch the outtakes.Disentangle is the third in a year-long monthly-ish song & video release project.
Written & performed by Nathanael Matthias Weiss. Vocals, guitar, bass, drums, artwork & production by NMW.
Video features Shireda Dawn Savia, Kjohnn and NMW. Directed by Chise. Costumes by BRee. Filmed in Jacksonville, Oregon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
