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| If you have imagination, if you let your inner child have a say in your whole life, you can't help but be happy. Embrace the madness |
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Imagination
Chess Pieces
Today I was bored and for some reason started thinking about the chess pieces and how they move. I came up with a little story for each and thought I would share the result with you. Warning; sorta depressing. Also, I don't do all the pieces, who has that much time? You can come up with a story for the White nation if you want, I'm lazy:
Backstory: Two nations (alike in dignity *ahem* I totally didn't rip that off Shakespeare) are at war. They have assembled their armies for the deciding battle. Think Waterloo, Hastings, Battle of D-Day. A truce cannot be reached, too much blood has been shed and far too much pride stands in the way of a clean end. Only one side will prevail.
Black King: The king is very old. He's been ruling for almost thirty years and he's not really long for this world. Though he was once a just and intelligent ruler, his mental proficiency has drastically decreased with age. He doesn't have any power lately and advisors and generals tend to do what they like without his consent. He's only a symbol of power, a morale boost for the people. His physical condition is also incredibly poor, so much so that he can only move one square every turn (but in any direction, his carers let him have that much). A spectator at the battle, he must be protected by the participants. He fears for his life.
Black Queen: The queen is much younger than the black king, a typical gold-digger. She has never loved him, except maybe for his money and expensive gifts. She has done her duty to the nation and given the king two sons (although only the younger of the two actually belongs to the king, the elder the son is the oblivious son of the King's first general; the Black Rook). The queen does what ever she wants and she wants vengeance. The White King had a brief affair with her sister and, when a servant discovered the truth, had her and the servant boy secretly executed. The Black Queen received a letter containing the real story a few days after her sister went missing. She has taken it upon herself to slaughter the White King for his misdeed, and will kill anyone who stands in her way.
Black Rook 1: The Black Rook is the King's first general and young rival. He is brave, strong, cunning, everything the king no longer is. He has no long term partner and likes to think of himself as a real ladies man (he also secretly fathered the eldest prince, the second Black Rook, although the queen has not told him this). He has his own agenda in this war, hoping that 'terrible accidents' will befall the princes so that he can swoop in and sieze power. He in confident that he will survive the war. He walks on the sidelines, commanding other soldiers, going right in for the kill if he gets the chance.
Black Rook 2: Oldest prince and heir to the throne, he wants so desperately to do well. He is terrified that any day his 'father' (he is unaware that the first Black Rook is his real father) will pass and he'll have to take over as king. He's young, only just turned twenty three, cripplingly insecure and shy having never been exposed to normal social situations. He hopes that this battle will give him some kind of self confidence so he can figure out who he is. The thought that he might die hasn't really occured to him. He stays at the edge of the battle field, naively attempting to aid lowly pawns.
Black Bishop: A corrupt and self righteous priest, risen to power in the church throught deciet and murder, he has been drafted into this final battle as last resort, due to his army experience as a young man. A malicious killer, he often feigns injury to save his own skin, sacrificing lives on either side of the battlefield. He believes that he is god's labourer and so should do whatever is neseccary to survive. He weaves diagonally through the field and stabs attackers from behind.
Black Knight: The youngest prince and true heir to the throne, he is sixteen years old and a cocky, wild spirited, little prick. He has never had to work nor has he ever been given any responsibility. One of his favourite things to do is annoy the shit out of his ernest older brother, walking all over him the majority of the time. He has been sent into battle as punishment for one too many crazy parties and totally trashing the whole palace west wing, in the hope that he'll get his act together under a bit of pressure. This plan hasn't gone very well, however, the prince has taken it as a sure death sentence and gotten pissed off his head just before the battle. Someone had the bright idea to put him on a horse to avoid him causing further damage to himself. He controls it well enough to stay on but moves in an irregular, erractic way, often placing himself in more danger.
Black Pawns: The Black pawns are young soldiers, labourers, war prisioners and veterans. They are very weak, tired and half starved. They no longer care who wins the war but most of them do not expect tosurvive the battle.
Everywhere there is a story to tell. You just need to find it. And always, embrace the madness
An amazing band
I recently discovered this band called "Parachute", I think I have actually fallen in love with his voice. No joke, my heart is freakin racing with every note. I hadn't heard of them before but I now see that's a cruel injustice to these incredibly talented artists. Give them a listen, you won't regret it.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
An Introduction to my Music
So, I've mentioned (multiple times, geez, you never listen to me) that I am a budding singer-songwriter. The primary reason I started this blog is for my music (and because I like to think that people want to read the things I write, though most people won't).
I've always liked music as a thing but didn't really get into it until I was about fourteen and started bothering to listen to the radio every now and then. Before that it was my dad singing me to sleep every night until I was about nine (I was raised on a diet of Frank Sinatra, The Eagles and "Yellow Submarine" by the Beatles; my dad had a small repertoir but a very, very good one. I pity the children now growing up with the Justin Beiber influence, *shudder*).
I liked singing, a trait I inherited from my dad, and although I'm fairly certain I vastly overestimated my abilities, I performed at tennis club children's concerts and every once in a while for my school class (who I annoyed the shit out of with the two songs I knew off by heart). I didn't learn any instruments although my parents made me take piano for first and second year (I was too impatient for it, I couldn't get good fast enough with as little practise as I wanted)
I also vaguely remember experimenting with the recording feature on my CD player aged eight or nine, on casettes might I add (I was such a little hipster) recording some of my dad's CDs and playing them in our "ancient" (made in 1998) Honda Shuttle that still couldn't play those fewfangled compact discs.
But I'm boring you, I'll get back to the point. I got into music properly in my first year of secondary school (aged bout 13). This year, just before I turned sixteen, I began taking guitar lessons for the beautiful, black with a maroon pickguard, left-handed guitar I'd gotten for christmas the year before. I'd taught myself most og the chords that didn't use bars and had succesfully figured the intro to two songs and (not that badly *cringe*) worked out the chords for "All This Time" by OneRepublic.
Anyway, I finally got round to taking lessons bacause of the president's award "An Gaisce" that the majority of Irish fourth years do because it looks good on a CV and makes your parents happy. Something about bettering yourself too... I took lessons with a girl who's mum is friends with my mum and who had a reputation down at the tennis club (I don't play anymore, I hate the sport almost as much as I hate things that my parents make me do without asking if I have any interest in that thing) for songwriting and guitar playing at musical evenings.
I started playing December of 2011. I got good quickly (or quick enough for me to keep up interest) because I had a good teacher and wanted to learn. I like to thing there's a certain ammount of natural talent there too, and a knack for picking things up. I tooks songs and changed them a bit to make them my own, posted one or two of the results on my facebook page. Around February 2012, I wrote my first song and things started to get interesting.
I had tried songwriting many times before that, without being able to play an instrument (proficiently) and it hadn't gone particularly well, I only gained some mediocre poetry that I couldn't quite but to music. I did, however, write a piece that did have a good tune. I tried to made a whole song of it but couldn't; leaving me with only a tuneful couplet about how my third year at an all girls school was making me feel at the time (I changed school the next year and am now in a much better situation).
Thanks for making me feel like I'm invisible;
I'm fine, I'll just blend in with the background like I always do.
I actually graffitied those words onto the bathroom wall of that school, unbelievable rebel that I am. I'll elaborate on that song later. My point is, that's when my writing took off. After I'd figured out that structure that a song needsand realised that I was able to create a song that sounded halfway like a proper song, my productivity sky-rocketed. I don't know if it was the fact that I didn't want to study for mid term tests (I got straight As except for Irish, without studying, hells yeah) or because I was inspiration struck, but I wrote two more songs in the course of a week.
Excited by this newfound art form, I slowly began sending videos of my original songs to my friend, Rhona, who seemed somewhat impressed and thoroughly encouraged me to keep it up, proclaiming herself my sponsor. I continued to write songs, which I will be introducing you do at a later date (I'll leave you hanging, muhaha!)
I proceeded to play at a couple of musical events in my school and the tennis club (my dad sings there sometimes and you don't have to actually play) and I'm writing lots this summer. I currently have nine songs and plan on entering a song-writing competition on RTÉ (that's the main Irish tv station, for all you foreigners).
So in a much longer introduction that I had initially planned, you now know some stuff bout me and my musical history. I'll be posting songs, covers, lyrics and various other stuff soonish. I'll also be setting up a youtube channel at some stage so watch this space.
Thanks for reading, I'm sorry it's not as interesting as some of my other posts, I apologise and promise lots of silliness to make up for it. Embrace the madness.
I've always liked music as a thing but didn't really get into it until I was about fourteen and started bothering to listen to the radio every now and then. Before that it was my dad singing me to sleep every night until I was about nine (I was raised on a diet of Frank Sinatra, The Eagles and "Yellow Submarine" by the Beatles; my dad had a small repertoir but a very, very good one. I pity the children now growing up with the Justin Beiber influence, *shudder*).
I liked singing, a trait I inherited from my dad, and although I'm fairly certain I vastly overestimated my abilities, I performed at tennis club children's concerts and every once in a while for my school class (who I annoyed the shit out of with the two songs I knew off by heart). I didn't learn any instruments although my parents made me take piano for first and second year (I was too impatient for it, I couldn't get good fast enough with as little practise as I wanted)
I also vaguely remember experimenting with the recording feature on my CD player aged eight or nine, on casettes might I add (I was such a little hipster) recording some of my dad's CDs and playing them in our "ancient" (made in 1998) Honda Shuttle that still couldn't play those fewfangled compact discs.
But I'm boring you, I'll get back to the point. I got into music properly in my first year of secondary school (aged bout 13). This year, just before I turned sixteen, I began taking guitar lessons for the beautiful, black with a maroon pickguard, left-handed guitar I'd gotten for christmas the year before. I'd taught myself most og the chords that didn't use bars and had succesfully figured the intro to two songs and (not that badly *cringe*) worked out the chords for "All This Time" by OneRepublic.
Anyway, I finally got round to taking lessons bacause of the president's award "An Gaisce" that the majority of Irish fourth years do because it looks good on a CV and makes your parents happy. Something about bettering yourself too... I took lessons with a girl who's mum is friends with my mum and who had a reputation down at the tennis club (I don't play anymore, I hate the sport almost as much as I hate things that my parents make me do without asking if I have any interest in that thing) for songwriting and guitar playing at musical evenings.
I started playing December of 2011. I got good quickly (or quick enough for me to keep up interest) because I had a good teacher and wanted to learn. I like to thing there's a certain ammount of natural talent there too, and a knack for picking things up. I tooks songs and changed them a bit to make them my own, posted one or two of the results on my facebook page. Around February 2012, I wrote my first song and things started to get interesting.
I had tried songwriting many times before that, without being able to play an instrument (proficiently) and it hadn't gone particularly well, I only gained some mediocre poetry that I couldn't quite but to music. I did, however, write a piece that did have a good tune. I tried to made a whole song of it but couldn't; leaving me with only a tuneful couplet about how my third year at an all girls school was making me feel at the time (I changed school the next year and am now in a much better situation).
Thanks for making me feel like I'm invisible;
I'm fine, I'll just blend in with the background like I always do.
I actually graffitied those words onto the bathroom wall of that school, unbelievable rebel that I am. I'll elaborate on that song later. My point is, that's when my writing took off. After I'd figured out that structure that a song needsand realised that I was able to create a song that sounded halfway like a proper song, my productivity sky-rocketed. I don't know if it was the fact that I didn't want to study for mid term tests (I got straight As except for Irish, without studying, hells yeah) or because I was inspiration struck, but I wrote two more songs in the course of a week.
Excited by this newfound art form, I slowly began sending videos of my original songs to my friend, Rhona, who seemed somewhat impressed and thoroughly encouraged me to keep it up, proclaiming herself my sponsor. I continued to write songs, which I will be introducing you do at a later date (I'll leave you hanging, muhaha!)
I proceeded to play at a couple of musical events in my school and the tennis club (my dad sings there sometimes and you don't have to actually play) and I'm writing lots this summer. I currently have nine songs and plan on entering a song-writing competition on RTÉ (that's the main Irish tv station, for all you foreigners).
So in a much longer introduction that I had initially planned, you now know some stuff bout me and my musical history. I'll be posting songs, covers, lyrics and various other stuff soonish. I'll also be setting up a youtube channel at some stage so watch this space.
Thanks for reading, I'm sorry it's not as interesting as some of my other posts, I apologise and promise lots of silliness to make up for it. Embrace the madness.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
The Title of this Blog
Now, as the more osbervant of you may have noticed, this blog is titled "Mental Notes". Congrats if you are one of those people! If not, eat some vegetables, maybe a fish or two and find refuge in the fact that a sharp mind like yours can always be put to good use in politics.
The title of this blog (Mental Notes, keep up people) came to me in a bout of inspiration (those of which come far less frequently than I would like) and I personally think it is very clever; so Ima boast a bit. I would've had this blog up and running a lot earlier had I been able to thing of an adequately ingenius name sooner (I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my art and such things).
I wanted to set up the blog for my music, first and foremost, so I experimented with names like "Guitarmac" (but it's not just about guitar and I do not own a mac, nor do I have any interest in road laying materials), and "Living Lyrics" ( but it still didn't seem at all clever enough) so I procarastinated a lot, wrote, and frankly, put it out of my mind completely.
Then, a couple of days ago, I was advised to start a blog (because everyone should, apparently, although I personally believe that some people should not be let within 30 miles of internet access, for the best interests of humanity) and I though, Mental Note; start a blog. Mental Note. So perfect, simple, with many meanings all of which combined describe exactly what I want to convey with my blog. My subconscious is a freakin genius, wish it could do that more.
Mental Notes. Mental notes as in simply thoughts. Mental notes as in notes which are perhaps a bit liberal in the old sanity department. Mental notes as in musical notes contained within the conscious and subconscious mind. And mental notes as in musical notes which are peculiar and different but good all the same.
You sharp minded people will already have figured these out, I would hope (it's not exactly cryptic) but I just though I'd (humbly) spell out how perfect and simple and amazing the name was. These things are what I hope to offer in my blog, and more. There will be more to come.
Embrace the madness
The title of this blog (Mental Notes, keep up people) came to me in a bout of inspiration (those of which come far less frequently than I would like) and I personally think it is very clever; so Ima boast a bit. I would've had this blog up and running a lot earlier had I been able to thing of an adequately ingenius name sooner (I'm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my art and such things).
I wanted to set up the blog for my music, first and foremost, so I experimented with names like "Guitarmac" (but it's not just about guitar and I do not own a mac, nor do I have any interest in road laying materials), and "Living Lyrics" ( but it still didn't seem at all clever enough) so I procarastinated a lot, wrote, and frankly, put it out of my mind completely.
Then, a couple of days ago, I was advised to start a blog (because everyone should, apparently, although I personally believe that some people should not be let within 30 miles of internet access, for the best interests of humanity) and I though, Mental Note; start a blog. Mental Note. So perfect, simple, with many meanings all of which combined describe exactly what I want to convey with my blog. My subconscious is a freakin genius, wish it could do that more.
Mental Notes. Mental notes as in simply thoughts. Mental notes as in notes which are perhaps a bit liberal in the old sanity department. Mental notes as in musical notes contained within the conscious and subconscious mind. And mental notes as in musical notes which are peculiar and different but good all the same.
You sharp minded people will already have figured these out, I would hope (it's not exactly cryptic) but I just though I'd (humbly) spell out how perfect and simple and amazing the name was. These things are what I hope to offer in my blog, and more. There will be more to come.
Embrace the madness
Welcome to my world
Welcome peoples to my blog. Just a quick note on what's gonna be posted here (note, like in the blog title, relevance, yeah!). I'm Rachel, for those of you who do not know me (which is most of you) and to know a little bit about me, read the description! That's why it's there, show it a bit of love and let it do it's job, it has a wife and kids to feed. Lazy! Aaaanyways, Ima be posting stuff here that I like so that you can enjoy it (I'm just that nice). So welcome peoples (and animals, I don't descriminate, and extra terrestrial life, and beings surveying this reality from a different one and people who do not yet exist and inanimate objects and plant life and bowling balls and musical instruments) If i have left anyone out, I most sincerely apologise; feel free to write a strongly worded letter of complaint which I would take great joy in reading if I were stupid enough to reveal my home address on the internet. Embrace the madness
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