So,
This project really started about 7 years ago when I heard a spoken word album of Jack Kerouac's work. The poem specifically was, Skid Row Wine. Enthralled as I was with the beat movement I wrote a very poor emulation of this poem, which I will mention no more of except it reflected my growth as someone dealing with the ideas of fringe living, DIY culture, cheap wine, and the beautiful artistic depravity of it all. (It should go without saying that I was living out of my car and cleaning and cooking in exchange for couch space.)
A couple years later I was living in New York and, being an idealist drunkard, thought to make the best of my impoverished state. What other's saw as impoverished I found to be something to be sought after. Not like those trust funders panhandling on St. Marks mind you. Fuckers who acted the part of the starving artist and afforded 1200 a month studios. Although I would like to take this opportunity to thank Ingrid (I think that was her name. It was unfitting of a 22 year old and better suited of an elderly Slovakian woman. The kind that lived in this neighborhood long before it became hip.) for allowing my girlfriend at the time, and subsequently me, to stay in her place while she went up to Connecticut and then to Morroco for the months of January and February. Also, sorry Liz never gave you any rent.
Oh, to know it young. And be a poet.
I thought this mantra to myself as a deceleration of everything the rest of the world had forgotten. I swilled and sacrificed myself to, "this beautiful young life that drowns in cirrhosis like cheap wine.” I wrote poems, worked shitty jobs, went to communist bar open mic nights, and generally acted as a total hipster longing to afford clothes from American Apparell.
Good times, moreover.
Last fall I looked at this poem once again, from the point of paractaxis while also embracing Burroughs' cut up technique. Further I embraced a fragmented take on language and developed an interesting remix of the poem I'd written a number of years ago. Oh, let's not forget an always present interest in fractals.
So here we are. My plan is to turn this poem into a sound piece. In the reading of the poem, the original poem, I plan to take off into a sound fractal each space where a word or phrase was used in the remix. This will branch out into a reverberated mayhem while in the background I hope to incorporate the original sound piece I was inspired by some 7 years ago. Or at least the general depravity the piece incorporates.
Also I hope to employ some of the techniques found in fractal sound art within this.
It's kind of all over the place right now, but I think that's where I hope to keep it, as it is now a reflection on a very disillusioned voice, both in the original Skid Row Wine piece as well as in my emulation of the piece from the vantage of an equally as inebriated idealist some 40 years later.
eh?
Relating to fractals: By my understanding of the definition of a fractal is that it can be viewed in the same way no matter how it is looked at. Basically whether zoomed in or from far out it appears the same.
The way I hope to relate this to sound and to the evolution of a piece from a sound piece based on a written piece to a written emulation of that sound piece to a rewrite of the emulation to a cut up remix combined with images and finally to another sound piece fusing together each of these separate pieces. Does that make sense?
In the end I would like to see that each of these, individually, express a common idea or scope or feel. Further, I hope the combination of these pieces in layering creates a fuller representation of this core idea that lingers in each of them. Also, it would be nice if it sounds cool.
We'll see.
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