Mona is one of the great songs

After some bowls of chocolate pudding yesterday night, today I woke up with an apetite for some fruit pies and I am not very good at spelling and grammar of things. That's very nice to know, I think apetite is good and having a bit of fat always feels really good.

Mona is one of the catchiest names ever and it's one of the greatest songs ever. You do not have to analyze anything further.

Similar to Dennis' vocals on My Diane, Mona sounds like a dog barking and crying; it is all around nightmarish, I sat last night around 5AM and played with its pitch for about three hours in total darkness and the sound was beyond a type of meditation, it is like a merry-go-round in the air- you are sitting next to the one you admire and love and they seem like an angel but because of that they are too far for you to deserve or touch them or deserve to touch them. It scratches the back of your throat, in the darkness it made me imagine melted tootsie rolls on the bottom of my feet and I didn't want to get up because I hate sticky things that's why I never played with slime or wanted to. I ate a whole bowl of chocolate pudding the minute I got up and went to bed in a room I slept in as a child with hyper-fixation attitudes that are hard to explain, and how I wished I could wire that song into my ears; and because I couldn't I did not want to sleep, and I was really jealous I guess. 

Mona is a story that makes you dizzy and it is a great name for a great tune, similar to the words Persia or Coltrane in my ear. Alice Coltrane and Bach brings a similar reaction to my ears and even though the Beach Boys I Love You is one of the lesser religious sounding Beach Boys albums; you will disagree if what you worship as a person is whatever Mona is or Roller Skating Child or Johnny Carson. The song is a loop, it is simple and it is understandable that Mona (to me at least) is hard to reach, is beautiful, makes you sad, is waxed and polished and remains to ring-ring-a-ring in your head and sometimes love can be like that and adoration and short lived powerful admiration can ring like that- it will be haunting. 

Love You

I read one of the worst phrased reviews on Mona that same night before bed and after meditation but before I brushed my teeth that referenced Brian's "craziness" and the cohabitation of musical genius and lunacy. Whoever refers to Brian as a lunatic has never experienced a shrivel of creative or romantic turmoil in their life. And nonetheless, has no intrinsic right to even regard "Mona" as a masterpiece. 

In Dreams of Girl At Mirror, Dreams are More Rational Now Than Ever

In rendering dreams the morning of- you relieve your thoughts in waking thinking that the dream and rather lucid loose nightmare is all but gone or a figurative gem. What is it about their visual, audible capacity or lack there of that makes us want to be both so close yet so distant from them? Try to render a dream in a sense of your waking reality, you will see that both dreams and nightmares always existed and persisted. An icon of religious essence could ease our temperament momentarily, a moment of corporate success could ease our thoughts momentarily, in thinking that dreams are all but dreams, in thinking that we quietly dispose of their own impenetrable nature in order to figure out a "true" order to things. 

Dreams, more like reality, create labyrinths and repetitions that pervade any ordinary life. What is the color of your dreams? Mine have withering edges characterized by incandescent light, most colors oscillate between the lightest of all the colors not in every part of the bodies and buildings and food but rather on their very edges. Have you ever wondered about how in contemporary paces, dreams are closer via our persistent capacity to withhold a reality that is not very much that real? This sort of digital reality. More like a certain small percentage real that keeps our attention scheduled to an even smaller percentage of what the eye can hold. 

In Norman Rockwell's painting we see pretty much what the title says: it says Girl at Mirror. The title cradles a strong simplicity, its colors define dreams in my book, the girl's stare is enchanting and friendly yet not necessarily approachable. That is a defining facet of dreams that I linger on, and think about consistently, the absence of approachable-ness despite the essence or appearance of things. As if looking at a two dimensional object in a three dimensional world. The luminous white blur surrounding the girl posits her as an angel too pure for our time, in noticing that-I wonder if religion ever even seemed pure or up to date in recent times. Women hold, a much greater capacity to softness and good intention, that is spread out throughout this painting. So, growing from adolescence we see the girl looking in the mirror with a picture of a role model on her lap, her toy tossed in metaphorical flames (thrown in the gutter by the wooden frame of the mirror), the girl in such braids that define youth or later on aging. 

Her posture is rigid and quite stiff, her legs together, as if knowing she is being viewed she sits up straight with well manners and well wishing for her future to grow up to be a beautiful woman. Nowadays we would say- and then what? Beauty should not be overlooked today, the beauty of a dream (the dream I see in this very painting too) should not be seen as a pause from anything. To want to be beautiful, to want to live a beautiful life can come from the observation of the filthy, disoriented surrounding. To this girl what is disorienting is her future but-what else is new. That is why I believe Norman Rockwell is a contemporary as ever, depicting figures showered by light, this girl reminds me of a dream that keeps going and of light that will never really cease. For every figurative there are figures we suit them with and in dreams we can match such figures with the correct light.