Find Your Freedom & Cut The Chains That Bind You

one of the ultimate free souls. photo from store in Sarasota.

For many years as a kid and young adult, I kept my differences hidden in the proverbial closet. I followed a different drummer (mostly metal skin bashers) and pursued activities like ghost hunting in my friends’ old Victorian houses, keeping a worm farm, drawing weapons of war and superheroes, reading plenty of sci-fi, horror books and comics and being a KISSaholic. Not much has changed except that my illustrations are more creative, I burnt out on sci-fi book and comics and my musical tastes have expanded greatly.

When I finally got to American University, I started to become more comfortable with exposing my uniqueness. I made more friends who were also of the same ilk an we reveled in our differentness. As a psych major, I was a minority amongst the many international studies and political science majors. I worked at the school newspaper as a music and movie writer covering metal and extreme music shows and reviewing horror and sci-fi movies with the occasional drama thrown in for good measure.

Now, as a Buddhist with a general love of open spirituality and an artist and musician, I’m still in the minority and I’m happy about it. I realize that being a unique person has opened up many opportunities for me and enabled me to meet so many great people who are also free spirits.

So to all you dear readers out there, I say to you find what makes you different and revel in that. We are all unique but sometimes it takes more effort to get out of the comfort zones that can bind us. Pursue the activities that make you feel liberated. Spend time with the other free spirits out there. Meet new and interesting people. And, if you’re already doing this keep moving forward and help those who need to be liberated from the shackles of society.

OK now, enough reading. Get going y’all!

Having Fun With A Manic Musical Moment

I have an interesting manic memory about an event at my alma mater, American University that happened in Spring of 1989 during my sophomore year. It involved a guitar, a wireless guitar transmitter and a whole lot of rock ‘n roll noise. Sometimes hypomania lends itself to a need for attention; at this incandescent juncture in my life I craved it.

With my new guitar wireless that I had bought on one of my spending sprees, I set up my amplifier in my 6^th floor dorm window overlooking the dorm’s quad. It was a square, unadorned courtyard made up of two drab looking residence halls, Letts and Anderson that were built in the 70s, an era when good architecture was sorely lacking.

I cranked the amp’s volume to 10 (though had there been an 11, my solo Spinal Tap performance would have been complete). I sat on a bench in the middle of the quad with my over-the-top Jackson electric guitar that was festooned with a vibrant yellow and black crackle paint job. It was a fitting manic color scheme but now I cringe when I see a picture of it.

I plugged the wireless unit into my guitar, turned it on and proceeded to unleash a barrage of solos and riffs on the unsuspecting residents of the halls. No one realized what was going on as I played numerous notes and chords that reverberated throughout the quad; its rectangular design was perfect for the added echo effect.

The resident assistants and hall staff had no clue that the guy sitting on the outside bench with the crazy gleam in his eye and the obnoxious looking guitar was creating the cacophony that assaulted the dorms. Even the students who walked by me were clueless to my creative disharmony. I remember that one thing I played was the “Star Spangled Banner. Since I was practicing about two hours a day, I was pretty decent.

The only kink in my plans was that my amp was creating a thunder on the 6^th floor. Some of the residents on my floor told me later that they wanted to string me up because of the roar my performance. Fortunately, I was well liked and I and my floor mates knew that I was a bit nuts so they didn’t call the staff to complain. I kept the noise to about 10 minutes to avoid over-doing it and getting caught. I apologized to those on my floor that I had inadvertently tortured.

Right after my fun, the university instituted a policy banning anyone from playing music out of his or her windows. At that time, it was a proud moment for me and thinking about it now makes me giggle a bit.

Me, my yellow ax and a friend. AU dormroom, 1989

The quad where my solo show happened (minus the kids in the "rally"). My dorm was on the left. I sat on the bench that the dude on right is standing on.