Tag Archives: music

Today’s resolution: An unburdening of sound

29 Sep

Blessed quiet. (2011/RO)

While this is a photo of snow — specifically, Simone’s footprints in snow — it doesn’t mean that I want snow. No, I’m wishing for quiet. Quiet of mind and spirit and body, all of which are hard to come by at times. The brief near absence of sound that arrives with the first fall of snow reminds me of what that’s like.


Meditation sometimes brings the quiet, or allows my mind to settle down enough to release static built up over hours or days as I work at the computer. I don’t have to be among people to become overwhelmed by the world. It’s right here in front of me, pixels and bytes, intricate roping and twisting flows of information at my fingertips, this web that captures and holds me rapt.

I love it — all this information within my virtual grasp. But it wears me out. For the past week, I’ve been traveling link to link, following paths of explanation — Mashable, Social Times, Mari Smith, TechCrunch and more — about ways to manage social media for marketing, branding, reaching out to consumers with content, content, more content.

I’m in a perpetual learning curve in my latest career incarnation as social media manager. I love it. But it’s exhausting. My mind has growing pains.

So today I took a break, settled down with instrumental music for meditation. Quiet. That’s hard for me to find, achieve. Not only were the electrons snapping, crackling and popping but I had to contend with tinnitus made worse than usual by lack of sleep.

You have tinnitus? Then you know what I mean. You don’t? Think of this: It’s neverending, neverwaning cicada song … in my head. Can’t imagine it? Go to this link and turn up the volume. Close your eyes. Listen. LISTEN.

That’s what I hear every second of every day. Most of the time, I tune it out. But when my mind overtires, I’m incapable of ignoring it. So, meditation.

Music makes meditation possible by giving me another sound on which to focus. Only when my mind finds that pathway can it slow and settle and … then I pass beyond that focus into a place of drifting thought, an unburdening of sound, a shushing snowfall of quiet.


I got there.


“Love me like a reptile”: Confessions of a middle-aged fangirl

23 Mar

I love Lemmy.

Lemmy, by the way, is Lemmy Kilmister — founder, bass guitarist and frontman of British speed-metal band Motorhead.

My Lemmy love isn’t something I talk about often (well, not in excruciating detail), primarily because it’s one of those things best discussed with someone who already knows something, is curious about, or likes Lemmy and Motorhead. Otherwise, there’s little gratification. Having to explain all the backstory, song references, Lemmyisms, etc., is about as much fun as telling a joke and having to explain the punchline. (That reminds me — the post header is the title of a Motorhead song.)

But I’ll have a go, because Lemmy is worth discussing. And — did I say? — I love him. Here’s why:

He’s a nerd. Oh, sure, he wears black leather, drinks Jack Daniels nonstop, chain-smokes, and parties like a rock star. But he also lives in a cramped apartment full of World War II artifacts, stacks of history books, career memorabilia, and keepsakes from his fans. He watches the Discovery Channel and spends his free time obsessively playing a video game at the Rainbow Bar & Grill in Hollywood. The bad-boy thing doesn’t appeal to me, but the nerdiness does.

He’s got style, Lemmy style. In the ’70s, he developed his signature look: long black hair, mustache and muttonchops, skintight black pants, black shirt, Iron Cross necklace, epaulets, flashy knee-high leather boots. The resulting look is rocker-biker-pirate-cowboy-military-punk … Lemmy. The man knows what he likes and isn’t afraid to wear it. I respect that. And I do so covet his flamboyant custom-made boots.

He writes lyrics like these:

If you squeeze my lizard, I’ll put my snake on you. — Killed by Death, a song for which Lemmy made what’s probably the cheesiest music video ever. I LOVE cheese.

Know your body’s made to move, you feel it in your guts,
Rock ‘n’ roll ain’t worth the name if it don’t make you strut.Overkill

You win some, lose some, it’s still the same to me
The pleasure is to play, it makes no difference what you say
I don’t share your greed, the only card I need is
The Ace Of Spades. Ace of Spades

If you compromise your integrity, you should drown in your own blood. — One Short Life

He says things like this:

Lemmy's autobiography


“You’re supposed to laugh in life. Laughing exercises all the facial muscles and keeps you from getting old. Looking stern gives you terrible wrinkles.”

About music industry powers that be: “These people treat music purely as a commodity, like selling cans of beans. … Nobody seems to believe in the music anymore. The industry’s building all the time, but they’re killing the music. They’re trying to, anyway, but I won’t let them while I’m alive. … People are going to remember me, but the suits will be forgotten.”

“Our digestive systems aren’t made to handle vegetarian food. It makes you fart all the time and you get intestinal flora. Vegetarianism is unrealistic — that’s why cows have four stomachs and we have one.”

“It’s easy to have good manners — they’re free. I don’t know why everybody doesn’t have them.”

The Lemmy action figure — yes, I have it. Fits in well with my Doctor Who and Firefly figures.

Lemmy’s funny, outrageous, honest and humble, wears great boots, and will never appear on American Idol. What’s not to love?

On May 18, I get to see him perform live. Oh, I am going to love that.