Monday, January 19, 2009

Patterned sounds

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Chopin's music always sounds like Chopin's music. Had he lived in the 21st Century, I wonder if he would have a propensity for dark background on web pages.

I associate major keys with lighter colors and minor keys with darker colors, and keys with many flats/sharps with darker colors than keys with few accidentals. I'm particularly enamored with Chopin's music that's in C# minor and Bb minor. I can't explain why.

On the other hand, I also enjoy tunes in F minor and Dorian mode. My color associations with Greek modes roughly follow their parallel major keys.

Table of major keys:
C majorwhite
G majorgrass green
D majorsky blue with a hint of yellow
A majormixture of lavender and light crimson
E majorvermilion
B majorsilvery blue
F majororange-yellow
Bb majordark blue-gray
Eb majormixture of dark crimson and violet
Ab majordark-gray violet
Db majordark blue-silver-gray
Gb majordark olive-green

Table of their relative minor keys:
A minorlavender
E minormixture of salmon and vermilion
B minorivory
F# minoryellow ochre
C# minormetallic silver
G# minordark green
D minorlight sky blue-gray
G minorlight olive-green
C minorbeige
F minorgrayish yellow
Bb minorgray
Eb minordark vermilion

Searching for integration in an increasingly compartmentalized existence

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Once I wanted to be famous instead of rich. And then I wanted to be rich instead of famous. And now I want to be neither.

Meaning has never been harder to find.

Snow has covered most of the landscape, except for paths where it was plowed or shoveled. What looks pristine from a distance is actually polluted upon closer inspection, and what appears microscopically geometrical is macroscopically chaotic.

Where there is no pattern there is no organization.

I listen to Paul Schwartz's operatic remixes without analyzing why it is so appealing to me. Is it better for a kite to have an intact or broken string?

Has my entire existence been a cosmic farce? Why is that I always become lost and confused about anything and everything?

What is perceived as "my life" is a vacuous virtualization interface that has no physical hardware. Matter is a form of energy, and so everything is energy. Nothing is physical and nothing is real.

And everything is uncertain. I have given up trying to quantify anything, since no precise value is ever obtained.

What used to be my sense of wonder and "child-like" curiosity has been gutted and bleeding slowly for years.

My entire existence suspends in limbo. No reprieve. Maybe I'll reach cosmic understanding when the universe reaches heat death.