First Patreon Projects Posted!

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Today I posted a few things on Patreon. First, my morning pages, which is free. You don’t need to be a contributor to read those. I also posted an audio story I wrote, recorded, and cut. It’s also free, as I want people to know the type of thing I’m creating and thought that would be a good example. Lastly, I posted the full story The DJ Navigator. Thus far it’s the only story that is Patron only. You can listen to it for free, but to read it, it’s a couple bucks. That’s all.

Why post the recording for free?

Well, to have access to subsequent recordings, it will take a backing of $5 per month. I want people to know what they’ll be paying for. So. . . The first is free. I hope you enjoy it.

Here is a link to my Patreon! 

I’m Only Half A Digital Native

In the late 90s the music industry was booming. Record sales were up. CDs were sold in droves to my friends and I as the local music store anticipated each new release. Even when in high school in the mid 2000s I remember skipping out on class to pick up the latest Tool album. I sat in my car alone, and instead of class I listened to the whole album–twice.

But back in the late 90s music wasn’t bought, mainly because there wasn’t any rules concerning the download of music. Sure, Napster killed Tower Records, as well as a bunch of other record stores, but how many people even remember that Napster was what started the crazy? And for those who know what Napster was, who remembers using it?

I’m not a pure digital native. My generation is a transitory one. Sure, we’re considered Millenials, having grown up into adults during the mid and late 2000s. But the digital native movement (those who have grown up in a digital age) is one we, very nearly missed out on. Many friends I have of the same age did not grow up with a constant connection with the internet–my dad, being who he is, was one of the first people around to have DSL. He always had the newest gadgets. But I still remember my first foray into the digital world. What prompted this was my awaking to music. At the same time I’d talked my dad into getting satellite television and had MTV for the first time. I’d sit a make lists of songs and then download them on Napster after the fact. I always had a song on, always had something in my head. I grew up playing simple computer games like Manhole, and if you know that game you’re feeling pretty old when you see how technology has changed since then.

Now there are new digital natives, however, they use phones and tablets more than they use computers. My girlfriend is a nannie for three high school aged kids and she just informed me that they don’t have Facebook. Facebook is for old people these days. Snapchat apparently, is for the younger crowd. While I grew up using digital tech, I also grew up pretending there were aliens in the woods and pretending the stick I found was a gun and blasting the pretend aliens with my pretend gun.

Feet Song

My feet hum when I see you. My feet play the symbols while at work. They try to hit the sky when we play.

My feet dig the earth in the summer. The feel the tree’s low base. My feet feel the leaves fall in the autumn. They sing a cord for each within their place.

My feet sing a song while in the shower. They have better words than I. Sometimes they will strain on the high notes. My feet they wear pajamas in the winter. The warmth they hold is the rhythm that we danced to.

The clompers are not just the single twilight.
The trill is not the only bird.

If we sing of the sad swamp forever,
our feet will sink until we reach the bottom.

Our knees will follow not long after. My feet will feel the tickle of the worms. Our bellybutton will quiver at the coldness.

Our necks will strain to keep our heads above the alto. My feet will try to find an end. Only some of us will know how this was started. But the trail dips our of sight–right along that bend.

Once we sink we’ll know that we’re forgotten. The shallow song will fade into the wind. If we could run forever my feet wouldn’t get tired, but my lungs continue to be just on the mend.

My ears are filled up with your singing sorrow.
My lungs up with all the sludge we’ve made. Now I see what you’ve been singing lately, and sometimes we’re making the grade.

MUSIC: Prompt