flora/fauna

Housekeeping. I am, as of now, going through the old songs and trying to be diligent about tightening up loose ends.. -also finishing a good number of the songs that I recorded as skeletons. This proves to be........... a lot harder than I thought it would be. Why is it so much easier to record something the day you write it?

attempt no. 1

a revised flora/fauna.

When I started recording, way back when..

the comment I got most often was that the guitar is too loud so we cant hear the words. I managed to move out of that phase for a while but I think Im back in it again. I dunno.. when I stop paying attention, it eventually lends itself to shoegaze, and honestly I just cant get enough of that.

-not to say that Im particularly pleased with the wall of sound present in the second half of this song... I definitely envisioned it differently,

-but I could easily say the same of every song Ive ever tried recording.

note to self: how did I end up with more loose ends than when I started?

I Never Learned Piano

I have a brother named Jared, and he is a few years younger than me.

But it doesnt matter how old he is, he excels at everything he puts his hand to

When we were kids, he would try to do anything that I did, and he could always do it faster or better than I could.

Once when I was ten I started learning piano from my mom. As soon as I started, Jared decided he wanted to start, and he played much better than I did.. so I gave up and never looked back.

when I stopped, Jared never learned any more either, ha ha

and that is my sad tale about why I never learned to play the piano

this is much experimentation + time wasted at the keyboard:

The Glory Of {click to download}

-Megan

Fleeting Bird

what is a fleeting bird?

I meant for this song to be something of a riddle, but I never had too many people venture guesses at what it meant... actually I dont think I had anyone venture guesses.

When I wrote this song, almost immediately there were two versions

I still dont know how that happened or which came first,

was I dreaming when I wrote this? do I have multiple personalities?

no. I just have seriously embarrassing memory problems.

------------------------------------

the version most people voted for has been deemed

Version A [-for obvious reasons.]

to me it sounds like a younger time, like you were just figuring out what fleeting bird even meant, and now you are about to go out into the world.

Version A {download me}

Version B, I much preferred..

but it didnt receive any good feedback so I took it off purevolume to save space for so many new projects.

It sounds like looking back.. like someone much closer to death, having lost a lot of opportunities already and considering the last few before the hourglass is empty, you know?

Version B {download me}

-Megan

Greetings.

in the beginning the world was a . ..

alright. so its been a long time.. lots of music has been posted to purevolume and that has been really great ! but Ive decided to try a blog for music,

a. because then I actually have room to talk about the stuff Im posting and get feedback

b. because I have too much time on my hands.

essentially I am a professional time waster.

-but enough about that

music is coming, and thats all that matters.

I plan on figuring this thing out a . s . a . p . and then the magic begins.

-Miss Feniak

{do you have any ideas?}

we are just scraping the surface, basically..

-of understanding

elocution

if the entire world 

is a symphony,

I am its listener.

If I am its listener,

the world is my mask

for I open my mouth and I am the raging sound of Babel.

Three Months in Bed

I wake up
miraculously whole
head still full of this dream, eyes shot smoky red
mouth still full of ash
and i crawl away from my thoughts
-leave them there

I stumble away
clumsy me
with my feet in the same worn places
Ive been putting them all year
-fingerprints for a wasted life
where does it go
where did i go?
I just keep waking up
and wondering how i got here
here under the window, cold and wet
wandering from one end of the room
to the other and back
is like crossing black oceans in this mind
pacing the pacific
it just goes on forever,
racing time
and my question
into the horizon where i might let it stay for a while
leave it there, stumble back into these footsteps
someone whispers in my ear
friend or foe?
is still unclear
but smoke pours through my windows
and i wake up suffocating,
cant remember if the smoke poured
in or out of this blazing room
damsel red
to september pumpkins
everything is still
I wake up in a beam of gold
I wake up
miraculously whole
head still full of this dream
eyes shot smoke red
mouth still full of ash
and i crawl away from my thoughts
-------------------------------------------------
Thursday, December 13 'o7