FADE OUT

Been some time since my last post...

Looking back on the past 15 years of pursuing the piano there lies a set of complex feelings with regard to my relationship to it all. It is apparent that the guilt I have for relinquishing myself from musical endeavors will always haunt me. I am at a loss. Actually, many things have been lost these past two years and it is unfortunate that in some way the promise I made to myself at age 23 (when I began to learn piano) to pursue music in a singular and focused manner at all cost has finally been broken. It took the destruction of my personal life to shake me out of that near-fatal trance I was in. The spell of occupying the mind with creativity, expression and communication has finally been lifted.

-BREATHE!!!!.....AHHHHHHH!!!!-SIGH...

New directions, new beginnings, new stages of this undoubtedly crazy life cycle. As I push forward as an entrepreneur making food, I hope that one day I will be able to work on music again. Perhaps I can figure something out. Something that may apply to whatever stage I'll be in at that time. Some new way of being creative. Have I failed? This I cannot answer. I did become the starving piano player I always envisioned myself as, making my quiet art with the hope of making a connection with some people. So I suppose this is the success as how it relates to my personal mode of reference. Though time and space may have all but swallowed me up, and taken my drive and passion away in that particular arena that I painstakingly dedicated my soul to, I can find stimulation in other things. To be productive is still important to me so I see that as a healthy attribute of mind and body.

Post void life can be challenging and exhausting. It is a constant shift between half empty and half full. Staring at my Juno-6 I hear sounds. I hear music. I cannot erase it. It is traveling in the universe and I am a vehicle for which it may pass. It is not a hobby, but it is certainly NO FUCKING LIVING. So I have been created without the proper tools to make it so. One must utilize the resources one has and go with it. If something hasn't worked and you've given it a very mighty effort then perhaps the universe did have a direction change in its chaotic order. Indeed mathematics tells the story of the universe, but in a soulless way. It is only our minds and hearts that can contribute that. And I have done just that in my little way. I managed to barely squeeze out a few records of my music with the help of the greatest musicians I will ever know. I somehow managed to squeeze out some short films, too.

In the midst of the downward struggle I SHIT out some art.

Something was documented that pertains to my life in a personal way. What it is I don't know. I do know that I have absolutely no idea what is going on. I don't know much about anything. I wake up and enjoy my Sweetleaf and that is something I did not understand fully. Still, the nights do come that seem cavernous. As I make my way through the abyss my senses seem to fall away. Is darkness almighty? Are there no torches for me to find my way?

The creative process has always been a challenging path, but an honest and noble one. This honesty is what I strive for in this life. To find truth in being...just being. As I continue to refine myself based on the culmination of all experiences leading up to whatever present point I'm at I see no alternative for a positive future without truth, as so it pertains to my reference point at that given moment. With deception will come angst and rotten filth then eventually loss. How does one maintain such a path? For me I did have constant force that was the music. It kept me together when all seemed lost and broken. There is proof that excruciating hard work does have its merits. In my case that merit appears in the form of a truth in what I do. Working on the music in such a way, for so long (25 years) placed me in a space I never thought possible. From a creative standpoint it was amazing. Unfortunately, from a perspective of practical application in life and its challenges I found only dead ends and concrete walls.

There were some moments of total bliss...And some moments of complete suffocation .

CLIMB OUT?

So here I am two days before the 9th anniversary of my father's death. What has happened to my perspective I could never have predicted in a million years! Friendship has taken a turn towards alienation. Upon helping a close friend I've learned quite a bit about what is real. I put myself in a position of unconditional giving. I gave all I had at a time when my own life was in pieces. It was a void of the heaviest kind and then a total burn out. I will no longer be the same and the value on friendship has changed. How a person can place so many demands on a friend who has given all he has is beyond comprehension. All of my rational capacities were desperately trying to figure it all out. My conclusion? - Nothing computes! And I mean NOTHING...

More time has passed and I am almost entirely disconnected from music. I hang on to the one gig that is worth anything. The one gig that allows me to make creative music...The one gig that keeps me from feeling that the past fifteen years of struggling in the piano trenches is not forgotten.

Then another force enters my life. She has brought me to a place of smiles and living life, feeling the lifeblood flow through my body like never before. It has been a beautiful ride thus far, although not without its challenges. After losing a life that was built up over ten years, navigating into a new one is anything short of frightening. Here I find myself questioning everything. Trusting nothing. At times believing that all is doomed. The stronger this new life gets by way of connecting deeper and deeper the less often that black cloud appears. Nevertheless, it is upon me still. It lurks like a terrible picture of a thousand horrors. Will I end up on the couch again? Well, one thing is for sure...I better know my place in this crazy life. I must keep the desert in sight at all times and remember that I can tough it out to that minimal place of desolation.

I'm in the beginning of starting a food business. Fuck art and being a pauper. It's time to do something that yields at least a potential for some type of living.

It has been almost six months with her. This is much longer than I thought possible considering the state my soul was in. Connecting with a being on such a level is most certainly universal in scope and beyond the powers of denial. Therefore I must move with it. Help shape it. Learn to better understand it. But there is that pain...I cannot handle it again. I do not want it again. I will work to keep from it happening.

Who knows? Maybe she will, too...

R.I.P. Joe Blanco - died Feb 25th 2002

WOW

I don't know what is going on anymore. The days keep blending one to the next. I feel like there is no end in sight and I'm very tired. This vortex I'm in is twisting me into a grotesque, unpleasant figure. I cannot lie anymore! I cannot put on a happy face for everyone. I want to get out of this life but am unsure just how to do it. It is getting so bad that I cannot frequent the places I loved in my neighborhood anymore. In fact, I feel uncomfortable when I do.

I'm tired of people trying to cheer me up.
I'm tired of those people who tell me what to do with my life...Really?? Who the fuck are you?
I'm tired of seeing couples in which the woman has turned the man into a woman.
I'm tired of forced optimism.
I'm tired of "causes" that allow people to feel better about themselves.
I'm tired of the news.
I'm tired of politics.
I'm tired of trying to create art and contribute something beautiful into this filthy world.
I'm tired of all the bad shit that keeps happening to me.
I'm tired of trying to sleep only to be stuck thinking about all that bad shit.
I'm fucking tired...get it?

Now it's off to that horrible nightly chore of trying to sleep...FUCK THIS LIFE

A TOUGH YEAR

Well, after passing my recent August birthday I'm once again reevaluating my existence thus far. So I've suffered a great loss by way of a separation from my wife after ten years this year, back near the end of December rolling into 2010, and it has been nothing short of a gigantic mountain to climb. Then months later in July a very dear childhood friend lost his future wife unexpectedly in a tragic sudden death. And yesterday they came to take my piano (also a loss for me) and try to sell it as my dwindling finances continue to place large amounts of pressure on.

In the immediate months following my separation I spent the usual lonely days and nights. Some nights were so bad and sleep was all but non-existent, as was eating. I couldn't do anything. The only thing I had was the empty apartment, a sanctuary that became more and more important. In the sanctuary I was able to sulk, alienate and think to my heart's desire. After some weeks passed I began to distract myself and try to find focus again. I started listening to music all day and night. I had a rather lengthy playlist comprised of the entire RUSH catalog from 1975-1989, SLAYER, METALLICA, IRON MAIDEN, BLACK SABBATH, PINK FLOYD & ZEPPELIN. No words can express how helpful these records have been. I am currently listening to RUSH and SLAYER mostly. The music these bands made over the years have been like a gift, a drug, a friend - Art!

I began to paint my apartment late at night into the early hours of the mornings, after gigs and whatever other obligations I had. I struggled to earn money, spend less and come up with the rent in order to keep my sanctuary. Each week the apartment changed, both physically through painting and emotionally as time passed. Thinking back the immediate months that followed the "bad news" seem like a blur, a dreamlike experience in which time had no relevance to existence. The days still seem like one continuous day. I also began walking every morning for one hour. This has been very good for me.

I began to focus on music again in a very different way than I have for the past decade. I no longer wished to play the Jazz and felt very disconnected from the Jazz community here in NYC. I have zero interest in it anymore. I've been finding new voices with electric keyboards, especially vintage analog synths. Submerged in that world in my sanctuary I was distracting myself, healing my empty soul, filling the void - slowly, but working on it. 9 months later I am still empty and have reached a new low. I expected that and am just trying to go through it.

Then, in the midst of my own personal struggle and still VERY MUCH UNHEALED I began to become exhausted at certain times of the day. One evening after falling asleep on the couch I awoke to my loud ringtone of Post Mortem by Slayer. It was my great friend (J) from childhood with the most disturbing news. He informed me that our other great childhood friend (L) had been deperately trying to reach me, but I slept through all of those Slayer rings (How? I don't know). He quickly gave some details that had me on the phone and getting dressed at the same time. Death was upon us. Our friend (L) needed help, real help - not the bullshit kind that goes on in normal untrue daily life. I got off the phone with J, called L and frantically tried to get him to speak clearly and admit what has happened. His beautiful girlfriend and future wife had collapsed and died suddenly.

I told him to sit tight and I would be right over. I called J while booking a Zipcar and told him I'm picking him up in 15 minutes. Moments later in a surreal stupor I was in the Toyota Prius, driving towards what would become some of the most difficult days of our lives....

TO BE CONTINUED