Leftover red paint #1

I don't like when I've got some paint left on the palette that would just dry up and be wasted. For some reason often red paint remains.  I had a lot of red paint today and decided to use it up in some way, and produced a series of abstractions that I honestly like because … Continue reading Leftover red paint #1

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Guitar meditation #2 and autistic learning curves

https://soundcloud.com/sasha_tramp/longer-morning-guitar-meditation I've been trying to teach myself various musical instruments since I was a kid.  I think I tried to play guitar for the first time probably in primary school; as soon as my dad had one. There were always guitars in the house, in an era before youtube or even CD players, when my … Continue reading Guitar meditation #2 and autistic learning curves

Doctor of philosophy

That's the title of a (Polish) jazz record my guitar teacher made. (In 2014, the time when I was seeking self, meaning and homeland in dusty & martyrological Warsaw and on the side benefitted from spending the British pounds I'd shnorred from the last PhD scholarship on professional guitar lessons with an actual jazz musician … Continue reading Doctor of philosophy

Thoughts on guitar #1

Apparently the phase for images has passed.  Wave of words has ebbed.  Yet, somehow a person is to go on thinking, and it seems like thoughts are inclined to take the shape of sound. [improvised track, as I will probably remain forever quite unable to read music or memorise songs] https://soundcloud.com/sasha_tramp/guitar_thoughts_dec_12 I also have various … Continue reading Thoughts on guitar #1

Urban retreat and nervous system deregulation

Since my partner left on a business trip, I've been torn between doing a silent retreat back in my village, or just staying in the hellish city and trying to do the same – the upside here being that it saves me 2 days of travel and 2 additional days of anxiety/exhaustion around travel.  My … Continue reading Urban retreat and nervous system deregulation

The fine art of fruitful complaining

On a butoh retreat with many crazy artists in Italy, a Hungarian colleague remarked to me that I'm probably the most negative person he knows – I skilfully find something to complain about in any situation. He said he'd spent time in Poland (my patriotic fatherland) at one point and noticed that Polish people in … Continue reading The fine art of fruitful complaining