Dreamtime 20/12/13

I had many dreams last night; one about a coach taking me home then saying I changed at Brockley for Scotland, another where I went for an early morning jog with lots of thieves running from the victims before being beaten up and one about the Olympics in extreme fog where I rubbed the shoulder of someone I was sure was you but wasn't. You were standing just ahead. But I can't remember them too well because I slept pretty awfully. This last one, however, this one I can.

I was at work counting the money in the safe. Remi had climbed up a ladder in the corner and was looking for something whilst being uncharacteristically chatty. I tell Helen that I have bad news and she tells me I haven't. She's playing with a black bowl that Remi gave her that can amplify sounds by pointing at them, Helen is amazed that she can hear the planes. I then show her the bad news, somebody has accepted a 5 shilling note from Jersey. I go out to the shop floor, it's empty except for Dan and Raedene at the till. I ask them if they know what the note was but they say it wasn't them. I then point out that it even says shillings on it (though by this point the note had turned into a 5 pound one), 4.00063 shillings to be precise. They shrug and I go back in to the office. Helen points the bowl at me and I talk into it. I go to the office computer and a lady appears behind me, asking if I can find her as Spiderwoman. After flicking through various videos of different versions of Spiderman/woman, I come across the Indian 'original'.

I am now the Indian Spiderman (or atleast, floating above him) as he breaks people out of a British jail during the Raj. Everything moves super fast, I am on a horse I think and I can see the British forces trying to pull alongside and arrest me. I jump ahead and get inside a boat that is sailing along the dirt road. I am now not the Spiderman (who looks like Pi in The Life of Pi) but am watching from outside as he hides underneath the boards in the boat. There is a huge scorpion near him, it too is clinging to the underside of the boards. It moves closer towards him, I worry because it is really huge. He holds out his hand and starts singing, the scorpion lifts its tail but seems calm. The Spiderman puts him on top of the board (I am singing along with him).

I am now a new Spiderman with somebody else and we're about to jump from the top of a building down into this wide alley with a small stream of water, a path and a line of grass. We land and I immediately see a tiger on top of some steps. I use my web to pull me high up the wall as the tiger runs at me. I can sense it deciding to climb up onto the roof so once it has gone I drop down and run to the front of the building. It is facing out to sea. I see that the whole front has fallen down and I worry it was my doing but the whole town comes out and says that it was always going to fall.

And that's when I wake up.

Something New.

What is the Salon? Well, over the weekend I wrote this love song, it should explain.

Social Mediating

I, like you, 'do' social media. I have the Facebook, the Twitter, the Instagram. I even Vine (I love Vine, get on Vine, follow me on Vine). Indeed, the reason why I am returning to my former active self is due in part to being advised to increase my digital socialising, such is the power of social media. The implied loss of career opportunities by not playing the social game. Ok, so maybe calling it a game is a little harsh, but the loudest are always the most visible and whats the point of being on these sites if you have little to say?

I, like most of us, am not naturally a loud person. Mildly gregarious, prone to slight hyperactivity, but not loud. I'm just quite happy to bumble along being me. I have my friends and they know who I am, what I'm up to and how I'd react given a certain situation. Traditionally I would have felt no need to broadcast my experiences to everyone I know because my secrets are powerful things. There are innumerable parts of my personality which will remain hidden from you all because I save them for the few I love. It builds foundations for these deeper friendships and I feel helps give my personality more definition than the superficial. So I hold back, I enjoy the experience of living instead of thinking how I'll be able to phrase it in 140 characters. I look at a beautiful scene without filters. It's part of who I am. 

Of course, some people always look far better with filters

 

But I'm an aspiring musician, and a predominantly popular one at that. An individual trying to work in an industry that, due to a few trailblazing individuals, has become obsessed with interacting with the lay man. Social media is seen as being a direct link between supply and demand, fulfilling the consumers endless demand for a more personal bang for their buck. A conduit linking you to a popular group in the same way you link to friends. I'm just one guy, there is a limit to what extra I can achieve by 'engaging' in social media in this accepted sense. I find it thoroughly dull tweeting that I'm in the studio, blogging that I'm recording new material or posting my new single (all of which I have done recently). It's just so idiotically prosaic, and keeping you up to date by letting you, the reader, into all aspects of my plans constricts my ability to adapt if need be. Case in point, last year I committed to recording and posting a Scandinavian cover each month. I got as far as March before the constraints of time got in the way but by that point I had rammed #scandicover home as a tangible thing. It had a hashtag, it had related videos; I even sent the results to the original artists for feedback (none was forthcoming). It became expected of me to continue. When I inevitably folded the project, it became filed in my memory as a failure (not musically, mind) because I allowed that expectation to constrain me. I, frankly, was not in the position to attack social media on the scale I attempted. On the scale expected. There just wasn't the time.

Yes, yes. I hear you. “Look at the poor little 'artist' crying because he has to spend time on his career.” I admit that I could do smaller, easier updates (much like I am now) when I can but I doubt that it would have any net gain on my future. For me, social media should be for engaging an audience and opening up minds, so a short post of 'OMG, just totes saw I've got more followers #whoop #hashtagyoloswag' will be selectively filtered from your memory. You don't know me, you don't know how I function or what I'm interested in because I shouldn't have to tell you. The only people I believe are likely to pay the blind bit of attention to me are those who have seen me with their own eyes, who have given me a hug. Long form, well there I think I do slightly better. I don't mean just written long form (though I am enjoying writing this blog again) but all creative pursuits like music, art, poetry. My music could engage you with a skilfully delivered song or I could grab you with a witty blog about Christmas. Condensing long form in to short form bites is why I attempted Scandicover, before the time strain of recording and mixing finished songs every 4 weeks broke it. Does short form social media benefit those with little to say or show? Possibly. You'll all start throwing twitter in my face and the countless character limited slanging matches/comedy acts that are born each morning. I just think of the time spent glued to your phone waiting for a reply. Endless time. For me to engage in such a way would involve me persuading my manager to allow phones on the shop floor then doing precisely zero work while I threw one liners or varying quality at Graham Lineham in the vain hope for a tweet back.

Time. So few of us have time. It bums me out. My resentment with this all (and it is a full on resentment and jealousy) is that I'm sure I could do it well with a little capital investment and a stronger foundation to my career. In effect, were I to be offered a deal, any deal, you we see me engaging fully and wholeheartedly. I'd have the time. It's a slight Catch-22. Sometimes it feels like the whole music industry is a shell of Catch-22's.

*sigh*

I shouldn't be so harsh, I just don't see the point of doing anything unless you're going to do it well.

The fond irony of documenting my dislike of documenting.

Still for now, I am enjoying myself. I enjoy the discussion. I just need people to discuss this discussion with. That's the hard part.

I know your face

An Introduction

I am a musician. My name is Harry Perry and I perform under the pseudonym rryrry. I have been through the British education system, gaining two degrees in the process, and passed through the post-graduate stagnation. I don't fully know what I'm doing with life but I realise that none of us do. If you believe anything otherwise then you're living it wrong. I work in retail and have aspirations to be something, preferably musical, preferably paid. I have two siblings, an older and a younger. I have a superlative Swedish girlfriend who helped open my mind to Scandinavian culture. I live in London.
 

That's enough about me to keep you going for now. So, why am I here?

Almost three years ago I started a blog entitled 'A Big Ocean of Possibilities' that I used sporadically until a few months ago. It was a place to vent my frustrations (as I was very much in a life mire) and pedestal my successes. You can still find it here, I recommend reading the dreams, I dream a lot. But I kept forgetting about it. It was sad, all those posts about how I was going to turn over a new leaf and maintain the momentum before disappearing 3 months later. In the end I just gave up, posting a dream here and there but nothing of substance. I want to change this. I want a new start.

I don't plan on having a particular focus with what I will post here but the grand idea is that I will document my path towards discovering and reaching my goals. So you'll still get the dreams (but hopefully with slightly higher production values); you'll still get the formless but passionate opinion; you'll still get the drawings and triangles and musings as before. But it'll be better. It'll be new.

My name is Harry.

Pleased to have met you.