tsunami. an odd word. pretty. exotic. deadly.

the loss of life in southeast asia is hard for me to grasp.

also very hard for a land-locked guy like me is that it happened under a blue sky. some of the videos i've seen are so surreal. no threatening clouds that mark a tornado or lightning - things that can effect me here in the midwest. no slow moving hurricane where residents have days to get out of town. no rumbling of an earthquake, shaking buildings and bridges.

one minute your looking at the sunny beach from your hotel balcony. then you see the water recede quickly and you wonder if its a weird tide or something. then you see the water come back to the beach and it keeps coming and coming and coming. up over the beach. up over the sidewalk. up the hotel steps. up over the pool. then, as the woman on the balcony of the thailand hotel that is videotaping this scene, you start to get nervous even though you are on the 3rd floor. the water keeps coming. you yell to people on the ground level to get out, but its too late, and you see the wave carry them out of your view. and still the water keeps coming. it washes through the hotel lobby and the first floor bungalows. people are screaming now. the ocean grows as if a dam has broke somewhere. its up to the 2nd floor now and you begin to panic. you stop video taping and head to the 4th floor and wonder if this is the end of the world.

then the people that had held on to whatever they could and survived the initial onslaught finally feel the ocean stop overflowing and begin to feel a little relieved.

but then the great sucking begins. the ocean draws its deadly net back to the sea. and this is worse. at least at first you were being pushed inland, and hoped to eventually hit higher ground or a tree or something to stop your floating. but now the awful sucking pulls you away from the solidness of the ground and into the churning sea. all around you cars and bodies and trees and animals and debris are being inexorably drawn out on a riptide the likes of which no one has experienced. and the wife or mother or child that was walking along the beach with you in tranquility earlier in the day is gone.

only to be washed up bloated and dead days later.

life. a small word. ordinary. precious. fragile. so fucking fragile.

posted by bluematrix at 12/29/04 21:57 | link | comments (5)

on blogging.

it satisfies a certain basic voyeuristic need we have to see how others are doing and compare our lives with theirs. i am constantly amazed at the raw and often beautiful truthfulness i see out here.

blogging is also about writing on a regular basis, which crystalizes thoughts. and its nice to know that when you write something that someone may actually read it and enjoy it, and in some small way validate you and your feelings and your creativity.

i enjoy the small circle of acquaintances i have made out here and enjoy reading about their lives and what things they find interesting.

blogs are constant and current and always await me when i feel like reading them, which i do fairly regularly.

posted by bluematrix at 12/22/04 23:20 | link | comments (5)

below is a song i wrote that i later adapted for Mary's Dream. in the scene, Mary has determined her life totally sucks and is seriously considering throwing herself off a bridge. (the italian translates to 'I always call to you, but you never answer')



Silhouettes

such a mighty storm, thunder drowns the cries
and though the rain is warm, I still feel cold inside
lightning fills the sky, and lights up the sea
we said our goodbyes, but it never comes that easy

as the dancers dance away
and the nighttime lovers silhouette the land
I still see you there, holding my hand

io sempre chiamo a tu
ma not tu rispondi mai, rispondi mai

it rained throughout the day, there is water in my eyes
it always goes away, though it takes a little while
down in the bay, a boat’s taking water
it won’t sink all the way, so I guess it doesn’t matter

as the dancers dance away
and the nighttime lovers silhouette the land
I still see you there, holding my hand

io sempre chiamo a tu
ma not tu rispondi mai
rispondi mai

posted by bluematrix at 12/19/04 14:59 | link | comments

A client that is going to fly me to LA in a few weeks to do some consulting work (that's something that doesn't happen every day, whoohoo!) asked me to write a bio to show his boss I was worth spending some money on. I just finished composing it and was kind of surprised at how it turned out...

Founder of Bluematrix Design and Consulting in St. Louis, Tim has been working in the graphic arts field for over 15 years. He has degrees in both Advertising and Graphic Design, with additional instruction from the Kansas City Art Institute.

He has art directed national magazine publications (Flower & Garden and Workbench), worked in a design firm in Houston (Estes Design), managed the in-house art department for a Fortune 500 company (Mallinckrodt Medical), and occasionally finds time to teach classes in Design and Desktop Publishing at St. Louis Community Colleges.

Specializing in the medical field, he not only does traditional print material for his clients (like ads and trade show graphics), but also corporate videos, interactive CD-ROM’s, websites, Macintosh training and consulting.

He recently completed his pet project of seven years, the multi-media rock opera Mary’s Dream, which opened to rave reviews earlier this year. He also enjoys chartering sailboats, riding motorcycles, playing guitar, and raising his two young sons with his wife Misty.

posted by bluematrix at 12/17/04 10:17 | link | comments (2)

the choice facing me was to post yet more thoughtful, sensitive lyrics (the chorus was even in italian no less) or the best (worst?) of the 'Lame joke of the Day'.

jokes are so finicky. you have to have the right mindset, the right mood, and you risk offending people. and i'll bet my mother is not the only one sending multiple comedic salvos out into the ether either.

but prose, especially dark prose, filled with angst, dripping with feeling, shows that one is poetic and creative and suave.

go for the heartstrings, or the smile?

doh!


What do tupperware and walruses have in common?
They both enjoy a tight seal!!

Why do cowboys wear button fly jeans?
Because sheep can hear a zipper a mile away!!

What do you get when you cross a Mexican and an Italian?
A guy who makes you an offer you cant understand!!

Why doesn't a chicken wear pants?
Because his pecker is on his face!!

What do you call an explosion in a French kitchen?
Linoleum Blownapart!!

Why don't schools in Alabama teach driver's ed and sex education on the same day?
It's too much work on the horse!!

What do Santa's elves use when they hurt their legs?
A candy cane!!

Why did the student cross the playground?
To get to the other slide!!

Why was the snowman smiling?
He heard the snowblower was coming to town!!

What do you call an Italian suppository?
An inuendo!!

What do you call a lesbian with long fingers?
Well hung!!

What did the Zen Buddhist say to the hot dog vendor?
Make me one with everything!!

Why did the Cyclops have to close down his school?
Because he only had one pupil!!

What do you call a Mexican quarterback?
EL PASO!!

Hear about the restaurant on the moon?
Great food but no atmosphere!!

What do you call a vegetarian with diarrhea?
A salad shooter!!

What do say to a person who has just become a vampire?
Coagulations!!

What do you call a cross dressing farmer?
A Dairy Queen!!

posted by bluematrix at 12/11/04 23:10 | link | comments (1)

Human Zoo

Don’t you know we’re living in a Human Zoo
we’re not too far from monkeys you know it’s true
but monkeys in the wild aren’t nearly as blue
as the one’s with suits and ties in the Human Zoo

The cages are so pretty all shiny and new
50 stories tall with a beautiful view
better catch that elevator your cell’s waiting for you
can’t you see you’re living in a Human Zoo

Hey there Daddy, when I grow up
wanna be a fireman drive a big red truck
Anything you want Son, but you gotta make that buck

once upon a time we ate what we grew
now your eating frozen dinners they make for you
with artificial flavoring and red dye number 2
can’t you see we’re living in a Human Zoo

we used to love the land when our numbers were few
we now pollute our cages and the oceans too
we’ve all become submissive, we haven’t a clue
can’t you see we’re living in a Human Zoo

Hey there Daddy, what would you say
if i want to be an actor in a Broadway play
Anything you want Son, but gotta make it pay

people in control, tell us what to do
so the fabric of society won’t come unglued
but each country has a blindfold, ours is red, white and blue
can’t you see we’re living in a Human Zoo

Hey there Daddy, grew up just like you
just another monkey in the Human Zoo
I know that you're so proud
but I feel I've been screwed

posted by bluematrix at 12/08/04 23:30 | link | comments (8)

So why did the chicken cross the road...

Salvador Dali: The Fish.

Jack Nicholson: 'Cause it fucking wanted to. That's the fucking reason.

Machiavelli: So that its subjects will view it with admiration, as a chicken which has the daring and courage to boldly cross the road, but also with fear, for whom among them has the strength to contend with such a paragon of avian virtue? In such a manner is the princely chicken's dominion maintained.

Thomas de Torquemada: Give me ten minutes with the chicken and I'll find out.

Timothy Leary: Because that's the only kind of trip the Establishment would let it take.

Douglas Adams: Forty-two.

Nietzsche: Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also across you.

Carl Jung: The confluence of events in the cultural gestalt necessitated that individual chickens cross roads at this historical juncture, and therefore synchronicitously brought such occurrences into being.

Freud: The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.

Albert Einstein: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road crossed the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.

Aristotle: To actualize its potential.

Darwin: It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.

Emily Dickinson: Because it could not stop for death.

Epicurus: For fun.

Ralph Waldo Emerson: It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.

Ernest Hemingway: To die. In the rain.

Henry David Thoreau: To live deliberately ... and suck all the marrow out of life.

Mark Twain: The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.

Kafka: The indifferent maze of tortuous twisted roads criss-crossed one another without reason. But they all lead to the Castle and at the gate stood a guard. The chicken had to pass the guard.

Moses: And God came down from the Heavens, and He said unto the Chicken, "Thou shalt cross the road!" And the chicken crossed the road, and there was much rejoicing.

Agent Mulder: You saw it cross the road with your own eyes. How many more chickens have to cross the road before you believe it?

Bill Gates: I have just released the new Chicken Office 2005, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook.

Martin Luther King, Jr.: I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.

Grandpa: In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Someone told us that the chicken had crossed the road, and that was good enough for us.

Buddha: Asking this questions denies your own chicken nature.

Colonel Sanders: I missed one?

posted by bluematrix at 12/06/04 00:01 | link | comments (6)

its my blog 1 year anniversary today.

i've kept a journal ever since college, but sometimes would go weeks or even a month without writing anything. the blog is more of a once or twice a week thing and, more importantly, is something that other people actually read. which is cool because to write without an audience is truly masturbatory; but good practice. at over 8000 hits since i've started it appears there are few people who find enough amusement here to spend a few minutes checking out my rambllings.

its been quite an interesting year. mostly because i accomplished a goal many said i would not achieve, and indeed it took me 7 years of crashing and burning and starting over to bring it to fruition - my multimedia rock opera Mary's Dream. that experience - working with actors, musicians, directors, sound and lighting guys, running auditions, getting insurance, permits, rentals, marketing, and on and on, was mind blowing. and to have the audiences respond like they did, was amazing. yes i was crushed when the fire marshall shut down the 2nd round of shows when all the money and press people were coming, but it cannot take away from the fact that i did, against huge odds, what i set out to do, and in a field I knew very little about.

i thought the glow from that achievement would last a long time, and was surprised it lasted only a month or so, then began to fade much like any other memory. today it seems years ago that i was at one of the pinnacles of my life. the whole 'what have you done lately' thing.

which is reminiscent of blogging. unlike an artist who can hang his work on the wall and have people admire it for years, one can write an amazing post and in a few days its as valuable as yesterdays newspaper. like sharks we have to keep moving or die.

about half way thru the year i finally took the time to figure out how to post pics here (i store them and link them from my Mary site), which as a graphic artist is most rewarding. i sometimes think i should spend more time with the images, but then i remind myself that i do that all day long and this is mainly my writing outlet.

early this year, when i got to the 2000 hits mark, i promised to try and continue to post a wide variety of material. looking back, i think i can safely say i have avoided being too predictable here. readers are just as likely to read about the mating habits of beetles, tidbits of eastern philosophy, short stories, and lyrics, as they are to read personal things.

for those of you who have visited regularly i would like to say thanks, again. when i see the hit counter go up or better yet, a comment, it reenforces why i have made the commitment to post out here.

i end now with something i promise not to do very often - repost an old entry. its hard for me not to do that because i love to reread good things. but those who blog realize that they are designed to constantly challenge ourselves to keep the creative juices flowing on a regular basis, striving to present the the kernal of truth or gem of wisdom we find in vast sea of information we swim in everyday.

peace,

tim


december 2, 2003

(written on a napkin in a bar watching my friends band)

my barstool has one leg much shorter than the others. coupled with the alcohol, it makes me lean to the left.

but, tequila makes me lean to the left anyways... and of course theres my political leanings 'no left on reds the sign says, good thing communism is dead 'better dead (gratefully) than red' another one reads... damn signs...pollute the landscape unless they lead to the john of course...gotta piss now, 'scuse me.

tell me all that you know I say to myself and the answer is a sweet sail down the big river, spinnaker spread wide, catching windy soul-dreams, a pacific bikini atoll, a lazy bank of sand, a black river unfolding like money.

and I buy another drink in quiet contemplation a contrast to my noisy surroundings.

on break, the leader of the band at my side. more stars than usual tonite.

chris and his mardi gras beads keep the tequila flowing like a gentle euphoric stream of consciousness while songs of the dead fill the air, fill my head, fill my runneth over cup until im warm again, a tequila sunrise, a mexican morning on a cold winters night.

when the world surrounds you with temptation... 'another shot of tequila, chris'.

this bowl of bone that is my head, separates me from those around me as much as it separates my mind from my body and leaves me alone in this world... with only my thoughts as odd company.

posted by bluematrix at 12/03/04 09:23 | link | comments (6)

some lyrics i haven't written music for yet...

Mask of Youth


There's no clear cut
there's no straight line
just shades of grey
and shades of time
your memory
now less defined
and they're lost on you
as we grow slowly old

The path is made
the lines are drawn
just shadows in
the early dawn
remorse for all the
lifetimes gone
and I'll pray for you
as we grow slowly old

The colours
will show thru
first white then green
then blue
as the waterfalls
behind the mask of youth

Shadows clear,
substance shown
phantoms gone
ghosts have flown
we see the waterfalls
behind the mask of youth

The burning look,
the darting glance
odd partners in
the cosmic dance
still waterfalls
behind the mask of youth

posted by bluematrix at 12/01/04 08:59 | link | comments (2)