talk to me. I want to know your dreams...

Just a mere five days ago, I was at Electric Daisy Carnival.

The trippiest thing for me was the flashbacks of last year that it brought. The stages were different, granted, but there were some moments where in our exploring of the grounds I'd seize up a little as I realized that exactly a year prior, a ghost of myself had walked over the exact spot I was standing in.

This was especially strange when, around 5 pm, we were exactly opposite the coliseum from where I had been the last year. And, when, during Laidback Luke, we were standing exactly where I had been sitting watching David Guetta.

The weirdest part was thinking about how much things had changed. The one person who defined that experience for me, I'm no longer really speaking to. It marked a beginning, a hope, last year. This year it did too, but in a very different way. This time it was untouched by the tendrils of tentative romance and was purely about the solid rocks in my life, the friends who I know will always be there for me, the blossoming of some of my most treasured relationships.




Performance wise, it was surprisingly underwhelming. There were, however, gems here and there. Laidback Luke played Dirty Talk, and the crowd went crazy as the pink fireworks exploded all over the screen. When Luke dropped the first few bars of For An Angel, too, I jumped as I was brought back for a moment to Beyond Wonderland. When Benny played Otherside (though sadly this was probably the best thing that he played.) Sean Tyas at the outdoor stage--I was completely down to earth at that point but he still rocked my world. What an artist. Dada Life were pretty good, too.

Will.i.am? Awful. Afrojack? Awful. Benny, apart from that moment? Pretty bad too. And Luke was a pretty big letdown.


Now, however, we need to talk about Above & Beyond.

Because however shitty everyone else was, they made the $100+ dollars miles much more than worth it.

I don't really know if I can put this in words. Like that last entry, it's not the kind of thing I really want to touch. But I really do want to convey how absolutely amazing they are.

They have moments of quiet, moments of loud, powerful, gut-wrenching beats. They are soft, soothing. If there's anything in this life that I could compare to a siren's call, something so enrapturing and entrancing that you can't help but look away, you feel taken in by the music...this would be it.



I was near the top of the stands, and I was looking down on tens of thousands of people. From that high, the crowd moves sort of like a wave. During Benny, the crowd jumped up and down in unison--when the beat dropped, it was like dropping a rock into a pool, watching the ripples of motion rock the crowd.

The people in the crowd, they're like drops of water.

Given that this was an electro concert, you'd expect the drops to keep moving, the waves to continue.



But when Above & Beyond came on, everything just stopped. Every face was turned towards the beautiful lights emanating from the stage. The entire coliseum, for the first few minutes, was absolutely still.

Then people began to sway, the movements began. Slow, steady. And finally, when the beat dropped (and not an abrasive beat like most, but a soft, quietly powerful one) the waves started again.

They do this thing where they don't actually speak during their performances (if you've looked at YouTube you've seen clips of Lil' Jon, the worst MC ever, yelling stupid things during everyone's performance. Thank god A&B kicked him off the stage for their set.) They write simple messages on their laptop screen, white type on a black background, and turn it towards the cameras so that the entire crowd can see it on the screens.

Miracles happen every day.

Never forget about love.

This one is for the ones who left the Earth too early.

So simple, so beautiful, and so touching, especially because I can relate personally to each of these. So inspiring.

And, when the first notes of On A Good Day rang out, you can imagine what happened. I started to cry. Tears of peace, of happiness.

This, people, is music that makes you feel, that brings people together. This is music that can change the world. I may not have captured it well enough, but I hope I have conveyed some inkling of how unearthly and beautiful it was. Seeing them has changed me, has changed my life, and I hope that everyone at some point in their life is changed in this way by music.

After all, what is music for, if not to change us and make us feel?

the technicolor phase

The past week or so has been so full of wonderful, remarkable things that are so blog worthy that most, including myself, may not understand why I haven't written about them yet.

But when something is so perfect, so like a beautiful dream, you don't really want to talk about it for fear of butchering it by putting it in words, writing it down. Like a delicate spider's web, or a beautifully embellished dessert with creams and petals and syrups all woven into each other, you almost don't want to touch it. It's better to leave it locked away where words can't bring it down to earth.

I will, however, touch on some highlights, simply because I feel like I haven't been using words enough in this blog lately. There's only so much photos can spell out, after all.



I was on my way to the Getty last Thursday. There's a bus stop in downtown (if you can call it that) Westwood that takes me right there, so I set out for it from my house. I turned the corner just as the bus was pulling away, so I decided to cross the street and grab a Starbucks while I waited for the next one to come, 34 minutes later.

I walked by the door and there was a homeless man holding a sign. He tipped his hat and said 'good morning'. He didn't ask me for money, he just made himself noticed with a smile and a greeting. He seemed quite content.



I walked in, bought my drink, sat on one of the barstools and watched him through the window, tipping his hat at everyone like a strange, lanky, very tall nodding bird. Something about him was endearing.

I riffled through my wallet and found a few ones. I dropped them in his box as I left. He grinned toothily and wished me 'a blessed day'.

I crossed the street and sat at the stop. A little old lady sat down next to me and asked me if I wanted a transfer. She'd thought she had lost one and had found the other in her purse.

As I hopped on the bus, putting the bus fare I'd had ready in my pocket back into my wallet, I smiled.



Today, I went to Venice Beach by myself to grab some incense. I'd been spending the past few days inside, nose buried in books, so I thought it would be good to go out on a little adventure. I hopped on the Big Blue that headed straight to Venice and got off on Rose Ave. I browsed the shops for a little, and picked up some empanadas from my favorite empanada place.

I was headed towards the booth where I usually stock up on incense when one of the innumerable starving artists selling his cd's stopped me. He asked me if I would buy a cd. I said I had five dollars, but I was on a budget, so I'd give him three.



"Are you a Capricorn? You talk like a Capricorn."

I laughed and showed him my tattoo. "Yeah, I am."

"I knew because you used the word 'budget'. See, until I moved out here I never believed much in this astrology stuff. Then I met will.i.am, you know, from the Black Eyed Peas? I'm tight with him. He said, very seriously, the first time we met--'What's your sign?' I said Capricorn he said 'Ooooh, boy. I dunno if I can work with you.' I was like what the hell? He ended up liking me 'cause I was crackin' jokes all the time. We tight now. I call him Mr. Pisces. But you see what I'm sayin, everyone in this crazy town believes in that stuff. Guess y'all need something to believe in."




The walk back down the beach was wonderful. It was the summer-time-weekday kind of crowded, and I was dodging babies and surf camp kids alike. One little boy stared intently into the ocean, not even flinching as I passed in front of him, as though he could stare it into submission. The clams' feet slapped like silly toungues on the sand, grasping for purchase. All the way, I listened to Owl City. Something about it was calming, yet uplifting, and I smiled as the foam played around my toes.




So those are two windows into my last week's experiences. Of course there was more than that, but I think I'll leave part of the magical web untouched.




I will, however, say this.

"I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together."



Some of the best things in life are unexpected, my friends. :)

w.c. pelon. graphic poetry

some of my favorites.

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in the fields of summer

I was about forty-five minutes early for my train out of Solana Beach last night. It was the last train to LA. I sat on a very wedge-y uncomfortable bench, next to my duffel, watching the moths nervously as they batted their wings about in a stupid haphazard race, the end being to bang their heads against the shitty flourescent lights...in an almost sisyphian manner.

And as I sat there, I put in my earbuds and played some Augustana. All alone on the endless platform, waiting for the last train out.

It was almost painfully poetic, and painfully cliché.




And as I sat there, people began to join me on the platform, descending the elevators, down the stairs. A couple with their shopping bags, a middle-aged man with no luggage at all, a dreadlocked man with a backpack. As they trickled down I couldn't help but think what an odd group they were. An older woman, dressed in glamorous black furs, was the last to step onto the platform, the feather on her little beaded hat bobbing as she went.

The lights grew in the distance. The train conductor, instead of the usual blaring, obnoxiously long-winded honk, gave a friendly little beep of the horn, almost like a friend's car pulling forward to pick you up. The alternating flish-flash of the lights was almost comical, as though the train was cheekily winking at its waiting passengers. The light enveloped everyone on the platform as the train gently pushed the hot summer air across our faces.


And as I looked at the motley crew around me, I noticed they all wore different expressions. The feather, whisked back, revealed a wan, tired look. The dreadlocks nodded as the man checked his tickets, unfazed, as though he had done this thousands of times before. The man with no luggage looked nervous, almost hapless. The couple looked at each other.

I looked to the train with a smile, amused for no real reason at all. I looked at it with hope, almost with relief.

My train was here. Carrying me off, somewhere new.



I'm halfway done with college, and that statement alone is somewhat frightening and somewhat empowering. I'm half way done with what will probably be remembered, at least to me, as simultaneously some of the best and worst times of my life. I've hit high peaks and low lows, which I think just comes with the fact that this is a time of change. We are all changing, right now, discovering. We're all coming together.

Looking at the people I know, the people I've known for the past two years, the people I've seen through the transformation, I can see them changing. I know what has changed about them.

For me, I can't really pinpoint anything. I know I'm different, I just...don't really know how to explain it. Besides, I feel like I change a little bit every day, every day changes who you are just a little. I take some steps to the right, some to the left, some forward, some back. The sum total of all those steps in and out of different directions is the sum total of who you end up being.




One thing that I do know is that I have made mistakes. Big ones. I also know that at times, I have made really good decisions. I don't regret any of the blunders, and I'm proud of the times when I made the right choices.

I've also had great failures and successes. I have become more acquainted with failure than I thought I ever would. I also had great success, and I am grateful for the people who helped me get there. I've also learned that a lot of people won't recognize anything you do as a success, even if it means something to you -- it's a matter of mismatched perspectives and priorities. I've also learned not to let anyone make you less proud of your accomplishments than you think you should be. You should never let anyone make you think that something you think was worth it, wasn't.

With that said, I think the sum total of being happy with yourself is trusting yourself. Understanding that you will fuck up, but it's okay if you do.



So now we're just doing a lot of addition, and I've been blathering a lot about sum totals and parts and whatnot without making my point.

So what makes up a person? I know I've talked about this a lot. Obviously I clearly think that the personal journey a person takes is extremely important--and at the end of your life, really all you're going to be left with is yourself, and how you feel about yourself. I've spent all this time talking about self-satisfaction and being sure-footed, no matter what kinds of crazy things that path may bring.

But like I always say, life is better with someone riding shotgun.


The people you put in your life, the people who are riding shotgun...those are the ones with the iPhone, the ones with the map. Having people in your life can smooth out the bumps, and if you have some good tunes and good snacks you may even have a fun trip on your hands.

Basically, I've come to realize, perhaps more recently than not, that a large part of life...I'll dare say even most of life, for me, is really made by the people in it. The people who surround me. So many people have shaped my experience, and I have met so many wonderful, inspiring souls thus far. I know I will continue to in the future as well.



I know that this summer, as I'm looking towards my next plane or train with hope, as they launch me in the direction of new adventures and life changing experiences, the ones I love will be in my heart. And that will hold true forever. I know I don't say it enough, and that sometimes it seems like I take them for granted, but frankly...they're the most important part of my life.

I get by with a little help from my friends.