ville fantôme, approx

[ voir: husk/essem et le français :: ici ] Travaux en dehors de la ville; tout gérer à distance (en plein recul) c'est exaspérant... pratiquement impossible de décrocher mais la famille/les amis prennent priorité. Des ballades dans des anciens quartiers familiers, aussi rassurant qu'inquiétant, la même vie en plus tranquille (et les souvenirs eux, grâce au temps, sont de moins en moins lourds). L'illusion d'urgence de la ville s'efface temporairement, tout est tellement moins imédiat... c'est facile de comprendre comment plusieurs se laissent bercer par le comfort -- mais c'est pas pour moi, j'ai pas fini ici malheureusement. Différentes tristesses d'un côté à l'autre, c'est pareil.

quelques questions

A few topics-du-jour I thought I might share here (subtle question-over-observation-form at that!) hoping that I might get some insight... here's a random list: [01] Is anybody else watching the huge thunder storm we're having right now? (off to an easy start right there...) [02] When-oh-when was it decided that "adding a new song/photo to one's profile" is considered to be a new MySpace Event! and why can I not physically hurt someone because of this? (wow, didn't know I cared that much...) [03] (special bonus french question!!) Soyez honnêtes; À quand "l'immigration zéro" au Canada? Êtes-vous capable de reconaître le "Cheval de Troie Moderne"? Dois-je vraiment élaborer ou bien vous savez de qui je parle? [04] Re: Clubbing, so-called highlife, nightlife, futile with regards to certain men, is there some sort of fine line between "acting/dressing-up sexy" and just plain "wanting to be totally fucked"? Is it moral to call this out? Can you call a spade a spade? Can you call a whore a whore? [05] If Bell is to Videotron as Wal-Mart is to Zellers; how come they can't provide superior rates and services? [06] I've mentioned this before but humor me for a second (especially if you're an anglophone); Why do most French Canadians loathe the Catholic Church? You must've heard stories, take time to read all about it, we just might end up burning a few churches together, united without any language barriers nor racism whatsoever, just some good ol' fashioned Canadian fun (re: Church Burning: bit extreme huh? fuck you, relentlessly raping and abusing children isn't? and THAT is just the tip of the iceberg... ok I'll concede, we can turn them into "Condos", that's fine). [07] How can a cell-phone-carrying non-smoker complain about the ill effects of second hand smoke? (you KNEW I was gonna bring that up, didn't you... ah it boggles the mind I tell you). [08] Nickleback -- why? how? ...why? [09] Have you unplugged any home-appliance you aren't using at this time? [10] Is it a healthy conscencus (or should I be concerned) that I often fantasize about a lost cabin in the woods, far from everyone and anything where perhaps I could no longer consider sleep a luxury (i'll admit most of the time this "fantasy" also includes a nice nympho partner and an endless supply of intoxicants). Be safe!

****** ********** says: (23:44:22)
va fallloir que tu vienne faire une couple de truc

d says: (23:46:20)
I'd love to

d says: (23:46:36)
I'll bring new levels of misery to that studio like you wouldn't believe!

d says: (23:46:49)
to the point where you question the futility of it all

d says: (23:47:02)
that's also my effect on women

revealing

There's only so much I can share on my *site, and there's very little I can share here. I've come to reveal more of myself on husk/essem than I first intended, try as I may to keep things vague and impersonal... There's a consensus in our industry, what it is really is a way to fish out the amateurs; those who advertise themselves blatanly in order to get work generally means they're desperate for work -- therefore marked as less than ideal candidates (there are exceptions, but it is a "general fact"). I'll reveal "some" highlights of my career right here, and you will not find this information on d******* ; I was once nominated at the Adisq and that is a forgotten fact, someone else got the credit but it is P** and myself who deserved the mention... I understand now how nominations and awards are seldom taken into account (and debate as much as you want, Quebec doesn't count in the scheme of things -- unless you anticipate making it big in France, and why would anyone want to be so limited?). A few interesting unknowns: along with a good friend/collegue of mine from Arizona, I've designed and managed the first Mark Lanegan website (Screaming Trees, Queens Of The Stone Age), we've helped each other out on countless projects where we've left our respective involvements uncredited -- projects such as Futures by Jimmy Eat World, a former fellow from the 'Pumpkins and various strat-marketing campaigns. Here's another "gray area"; though I do mention my involvement with Nitzer Ebb's own Bon Harris and his Maven project (which also features work by Andy Troy and Biff Sanders -- and that, by the way, is all due to a nice referral by a kind Strawberry), my *site does not mention any specific achievements of the project itself (aside from the overall creative freedom they've given me for the album art and the general direction of the derived merch) , being credited in their video (from Cordless/Warner Bros) alongside Marilyn Manson and P.R. Brown (of Bau-Dau Design) just to name a few, with minimal involvement as far as the video is concerned, no less -- it all adds to new levels of pride and respect I have for my clients. But how soon does this become old news? How much is too much? In an attempt to make an even balance, I've eventually decided to name drop my latest projects and leave the rest to history (for the general visitor, anyway). All it took was a simple queston (you'll see how naive this really is): "what is the purpose of your site?". I guess I just like to tease, and make the non-financial projects as important as my day-job tasks. "This guy does this and that..." (and this guy's candle is dangerously short I tell you...). August 22nd 2006 marks the release of the new David Pajo (Papa M, Zwan, Slint, Tortoise...) album "Pajo - 1968" from Drag City Records (Chicago) -- I've teased previous blog entries here with updates on my progress for the album art and what steps I had to take in order to get it done (which is essentially what the blog should be about; all art essays and the mood swings/emotional distractions that come into play). And now it's revealed (as if this was some kinda shock for my invisible audiance), part of it anyway. I would love for you all to pick up the new album when it comes out and send me some feedback (goes without saying that you might wanna give Pajo feedback for the lovely music first). I guess it was nice to get some my own "blatant/shameless name-drops and self-promos" off of my chest, if only to add more cred to my never-ending art diatribes (that's a lie actually, it wouldn't influence cred, maybe when I become an old crooner) -- but mostly because I don't believe anecdotes belong in one's public portfolio (oh the stories I could tell). Then where should they go? Here and there, lost in the shuffle not unlike my increasing attraction to printed works; you can change websites but print work goes down in history, whether it be representative or not (double the charm right there), lost in the shuffle. I won't make a habit of this, in the end this is in no way officially linked to my *site (it links back but doesn't link to -- or does it?), it does take lots of effort to conceal one's passion (pretty much like this site actually). Do you kiss and tell?

140706

Four years ago, this was a good day -- unfortunately, it'll be followed shortly by the anniversary of a related bad day... it's all I can say.

[more on the July repose]

My morning impulse -- okay hold on there, my morning impulse as a single guy (that's better) is to rid myself of stress. Every day it's the same scenario; I wake up to a small heart attack as my brain slowly feeds me my daily schedule. Like a single rush of distress and panic combined (sounds worse than it is). Fortunately my roomate is kind enough not only to make sure I'm awake on time (trouble sleeping goes with trouble waking up) but also to serve my necessary dosage of morning caffeine which in most cases is the first vital step in focusing on the tasks at hand (merci merci). I've often thought of hanging up a list of urgencies on the wall next to my bed just so that I could take a quick glance at it... it would be one quick flash instead of waiting on my brain to flip through the work cue and send me the necessary deadlines. I might just get around to it. Count that as one of the many advantages of sleeping with a life partner; "fuck work, turn around and hold your lover". While in the opposite camp, my art/work/disciplines substitute love -- hardly fills the void. That's a non-issue, but I can still compare. So anyway, that's the daily mise-en-scène and it was getting worse as of late (and it has yet to be fully resolved), which led to an awful start for the (usually) annual July repose (pour ne pas dire semi-vacances). There were lots of ups and downs during the week(s), I just didn't know how to manage it (see below as optimism fails, multiple personality disorder, pretending not to over-analyse -- whatever). A new friend came into our lives last year and left a solid mark on many of us in record time. She decided to come to Montreal for a change of scenery, it was so-to-speak an ideal period where nothing was holding her back in her country. A year passed and then she went back home last week after contemplating many dilemmas, as she carefully explained to me; it was a fork in the road where either she went back home fully recharged or, at this stage of her newfound Montreal life, she had to invest and fully weigh anchor. And so she decided to head back home hoping that she'll get to reenact the experience elsewhere in the world. I figured it was no coincidence that, at her going-away party, I was subjected to a handful of my past-life reminders (either in person or touched upon in discussions) in what is supposed to be Montreal; a city big enough to evade such things and apparently isn't. Far from it. The few areas that I felt were neutral (where I could also remain somewhat anonymous) are gradually slipping away. Now listen, I won't "refrain" from going anywhere in the city -- I've owned it for a long time now but you must admit that you do feel safer when you're under the impression that you might not get to "see" things you don't want to see (or be seen when you do not want to be seen). Psychological report = I don't feel like I've got the upper hand. It's not crucial, but it's there somewhere in the back of my mind. I can admit that. I can admit that every outting is some kind of effort, but I do try (and I mostly succeed). So aside from any other personal anecdotes, my friend left and gave me some important advice. It echoes in my head since her departure. I felt a kindred spirit in her and she'll be missed. That night was another one of those moments that took its toll on me in the past weeks, I've always said that I was open to new ideas and (solicited) advice/opinions, though that doesn't mean it'll be adopted (general misconception) but understanding goes a long way. A departure from Montreal, in my case, might not have anything to do with "escaping" anything after all; I've seen this happen before, for the little time I've spent out-of-country; I gained increasing notorioty. Montreal will love you only if it wants you (and can't have you). You can feel it at night mostly; it's a dead city pretending to be alive -- too many ghosts. Hence why all nightlife magazines make the "scene" look way livelier than it actually is, most of the time, and people look at this and go "where is this shit happening?". Yeah clubs can be insane but you walk out and -- bam, it's "just" St-Laurent -- or "just" Crescent... to me that really kills the illusion. All in all, I'm merely posting observations, no concrete life-altering decisions taken at this time... more on that when I rant endlessly about an upcoming eviction notice. Just you wait. And as if "on cue", here comes Thom Yorke's brilliant album The Eraser which deals in some parts with the inability to move on. What perfect timing...

[it's over but I did it]

It took a while but it happened; relief I guess. The Jazz fest ended but I got to share it with friends I don't get to see that often. One terrasse on Place des Arts, overlooking jazz & dub acts at night surrounded by thousands of people. It's a gathering of good vibes and that's what I needed to immerse myself in. We had another "festival" in our neighborhood last night in Little Italy where the closed streets allowed the locals to celebrate their well-deserved world cup victory. Even when I figured it was time to "call it a night" I couldn't help but to walk out again and take another stroll amidst the italian celebration despite my lack of sleep which, judging by the noise, I wouldn't have gotten much of anyway. Immersed once more in a crowd of positive vibes. If you can't beat em', join em'. Why miss out (especially at night)? Up next, the often tragic fireworks.

[uphill]

In an effort to be more of a pleasant individual (thanks for stopping by, J) I've strained much of my (limited) ressources. Cat Power didn't help, it was a beautiful show but maybe too intense for my recent mal-de-vivre (not that I regret having seen the show, quite the contrary...). I knew I'd get to feel safe around la place des arts once again though I've realized that I'm dealing with an increasing uneasiness while being subjected to strong daytime sunlight. It's an all new high in moronic self-consciousness. The light just seems too revealing and I feel so uncomfortable and ugly, so out of place... it's never been that bad before. It's another one of those things that I have to add to the list now; another "problem" I have to "work on". Running low on fuel where "efforts" are concerned. A few more Jazz days left to go, some fireworks too -- both nighttime events where I can feel safe while dealing with the unnecessary pressure of making the most out of what once was my favorite time of year.