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metalmachinemusik · 7 years

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Day 3-ish

I find it interesting over the course of writing the blog, how two different voices are emerging: The voice of the process and the voice of the reflection. The process is simple, straight-forward, matter-of-fact. ‘I use this tool to perform this function.’ Whereas the music portion takes on a much more philosophical discourse. And there’s room for that discussion, created in the wake of distance and leisure. The process, the task at hand, does not have space for such philosophy; it is mere cause & effect.

The past couple of days have been somewhat slow, waterphone-wise, and I didn’t get much work in on Friday and Saturday. Friday afternoon John and I drove to Philly to see Xiu Xiu. 6 hours each way, but I see Jamie so rarely that to get a hug and in-person conversation with him is worth some travel. John, Jamie, Shayna, and I were able to get a quick dinner together, and the show was spectacular: lively, soft, intense. Fantastic swagger. Interesting and unexpected song selection (so wonderful to finally hear my favorite Shwee song, ‘Don Diasco,’ live and ‘I Luv Abortion’ alone was worth the drive). The most fun I’ve had at a show in recent memory. Toward the end of the set, Jamie said, ‘This next song is dedicated to Sadie Powers,’ and they played a cover of ZZ Top’s ‘Sharp Dressed Man.’

Well played, sir.

John and I drove back that night, with the aid of chocolate-covered espresso beans (thanks for the tip, Greta!) and the Lost Highway soundtrack. We got in at 5:30 am, I passed out for a few hours, and then went into work at 3 pm.

My brain was a bit mush, and with throwing my sleep schedule off like that, I’m grateful I didn’t get a full-blown migraine/HM episode.

Of course, I worked on the steel bowl some more. But I didn’t want to push myself physically. (My leg wasn’t working right, and I had to drag it quite a bit. HM is stupid. PSA: Please avoid developing a genetic seizure disorder if you can help it.)

You can see that the lip is still not consistent and isn’t flush with the table. This required a small bit of hammering with the rawhide mallet, though again, I didn’t physically push myself, and when I started to get tired, I moved on to the planishing hammer.

Having mobility issues forces one to come to accept slowness as a state of being. The impulse, at least for me, is to give into the excitement of a new idea or project, and want to accomplish it as quickly as possible so that I can partake of whatever it is I’ve created. The curved bit on the bottom of the planishing hammer isn’t as steep as I’d like it to be, and it’s the only one I have access to, so before I kind of manhandled the steel to try and get it to curve more. The uneven lip is a result of uneven pressure being applied downwardly (*cough* by me manually *cough*), and so to remedy it requires time and patience. As in literally just standing there and holding the piece and letting the machine do the bulk of the work.

It’s not sexy, but at least I had Suicide.

Jonathan from Shearwater said he finds Suicide unsettling, in that it sounds like ‘pure self loathing.’ I don’t agree. Sure, the beats are hard and fast, the droning synths have an eeriness to them, and Alan Vega was quite the provocateur with his yelpings and screams. But there’s nothing to indicate self hatred in the lyrics. ‘Ghostrider’ is about Vega’s favorite comic book. While the lyrical content is unflinching and sometimes violent, the music to me seems to be a direct response to living in urban poverty in America. Work all day for scraps and still can’t get by, share a sandwich for a meal. ‘America, America is killing its youth,’ Vega croons in ‘Rocket USA.’ That’s not self loathing; those are just the socioeconomic cards you’ve been dealt, and it is reasonable to externalize that frustration and hopelessnes in a caustic way, in realizing that one has been born into a society that twists people into deformed ghostly shells of themselves in order to survive.

This is ‘Sussudio.’

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Great, great song.

After about an hour of slowly moving the bowl around in the planishing hammer, I had developed a zen-like calm. And the curve is more uniform, thus giving it more uniform pitch and harmonics, with a clearly-defined lip.

I also ground the edges to make them not-ugly.

(Note Beverly Shear looming in the background, her eagle eye always watchful.)

Onto the welding jacket.

Angelfire is a line of welding apparel that is designed specifically for the female frame. Not that I’m into that, as heteronormative as you can get with welding gear, but what it means for me is that they create things that are small enough to fit my Lilliputian torso.

This color has no place in my life, except for maybe as chocolate ice cream.

Luckily, there are stores, and they sell dye. Dyeing fabric a solid color is a great way to not do a lot but feel that you’ve accomplished something. And you can pretend you’re on Project Runway. ‘I’ve never done this before.’ ‘I hope it doesn’t turn out terrible.’ ‘I’ve wasted the afternoon dyeing fabric. I haven’t even started on my dress.’ ‘[unconvinced tone] I kinda like it.’

What do you mean, I have to stir this non-stop for 30-60 minutes?

Suddenly this has become less ‘make it work!’ and more Charlie Bucket’s mom.

Keep stirring!

Ah! Much better...though still kind of brown. *Sigh*

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