The Summit Music Project & Travels Rendered

Escape To-And-From New York

2011-12-11T10:27:00.000-08:00

(To read the main portion of this blog entry, skip to the middle where it says The main portion of this blog entry. My girlfriend Lisa recently helped me figure out a new system for record-keeping, so hopefully this will be the last epically long blog entry for a while.)

Minor Note To The Reader:

Before I continue writing about any more of my adventures during this project, I would like to shed light on something that I'm sure some of you have wondered about, and a couple of you have even asked about. You may have an occasional curiosity about why-and-how I take expensive equipment (like my laptop studio) with me to places that range everywhere from arctic mountains to crime ridden ghettos. It probably seems too dangerous even without the equipment. Well, if this makes it any clearer: regarding the mountains, I do train hard, and I have some mountain and arctic-condition experience from early adulthood; regarding ghettos and dangerous urban areas, well, aside from leading a micro-street-life while growing up, I've actually spent a good chunk of my adult life studying and training as a martial artist.

When summed up, I've been an MMA guy for much of my life. (You ever want to know details, feel free to ask.) I even have some weapons training. Yes, I am also an aesthetic artist, and no, this is not a joke. I'm actually good enough at martial arts that I occasionally teach kids. Years ago I decided to invest enough time and money into my training that I would eventually feel confident and safe wherever I went; I'm now basically reaping the benefits of that objective.

And yes, I know, this type of thing looks weird for a guy who essentially hates conflict.

There are very few men in this world I am physically afraid of. Whether or not I "should" ever be afraid, it is simply not the affect of my training or my personal mantra. I've had prior experiences in life where I've demonstrated plenty of fear, and I'm sure in some form there will be more, but my confidence as a martial artist has none-the-less grown to a critical mass. There is also a certain acknowledgement-of-the-madness that goes into understanding something like martial arts (or the entire universe), which is rather hard to describe unless you know it. But overall, my previous experiences, cowardly, brave or crazy, have helped me to become the fighter I am today: imperfect, and immensely able.

Even so, I don't actually consider myself a martial artist unless it's too appropriate something. I don't see it as being one of my main talents, just something extra that I do. Also, as able as this all might be toting me to look, I've learned to temper my abilities with an extremely cautious attitude, which was not always the case before. It's one thing to be confident, it's quite another to be cocky, and I learned this the hard way. I had to actually learn that I'm not invincible. Also, if there's anything else I've learned in this life, it's that tempting fate, destructively, usually destroys you. I now act as cautiously as I can afford to act regarding any danger, and the rest is up to the universe. As long as I know I'm not acting overly stupid, you can be sure I'm going to go through life with a notable measure of abandon.

But my motivation for bringing this up is not to paint the picture of a "bad-ass-yet-disorganised traveller that you thought you knew." Not quite. Instead, I think my biggest moral here is to say, with the exception of others whom this doesn't apply to, "folks, don't try this at home!" ,'-) I would almost call what I do "Extreme Travel!" (with the heavy-announcer voice and everything). Considering some of the hair-raising experiences I've had on the road, most of which I haven't even had a chance to write about, I firmly believe I've earned the write to brag about this. I also believe it's a worthy warning to bring up, too. Thus: I do not, by any means, suggest traveling extremes like mine to people who don't predicate a certain amount of experience and/or ability. Part of what I'm doing with this project is to show what you could do if you chose to, and the rest is my own personal-and-artistic goal. Nothing more. I'm not the model traveller, and am not even sure how good-for-my-own-health this will all turn out to be in the end.

And while I'm on the subject of how I'm not invincible, not much weapons-training exists for handling people with shotguns who are out of an arm's range, so let's hope you don't someday read about how I was shot and killed in a dangerous part of the country, either. That's always a possibility, considering how many places I tend to find myself where guns are as common as lottery tickets.

Regarding NYC:

New York City was extremely... cool - for lack of a more casually flattering term - and more so than I thought it would be. I was actually born there, but my folks moved to LA when I was 2. This was my first time ever spending more than a day in NYC by myself, and no longer as a child. My recent visit there lasted about a week, which should have been enough for at least a little culture shock, but honestly, I must have travelled so much in my life already that hardly any was felt (even with incessant warnings about it). And I think I have the last two years to thank for this, more than anything. That one moment at the rim of Island In The Sky (Canyonlands National Park) at midnight last year really marked the beginning of something: how almost every place/spot I visit around the country feels like my living room. As of that moment, on that rim, the world has been my house, complete with mental pajamas.

But I'm also not ignorant of the fact that the matter at hand is me only having spent a week in NYC. It's not as though I experienced moving there.

As much as I found moments to chat folks up, for the most part I was there to do this project, so it wasn't really an opportunity to get to know the town on a personal basis at all. There was very little time for getting-to-know-people. This was a sad fact, considering that I did catch glimpses of people's souls that almost symbolized an eternity.

And I never imagined that NYC would feel so natural to me overall, like a parallel home, but I suppose it does make sense considering how most of my family lineage, on both sides, revolved around that city in one form or another. Most of all, my father had worked there as a musician/composure/arranger/producer before anywhere else in life. After years of working on-and-off Broadway, with no shortage of celebrity colleagues, he landed a job writing music for the Carol Burnett Show and then followed the show when it moved to Hollywood around 71. This is how he first got involved with TV composing, and also explains why he ended up living in LA.

A repetitive thought I had as I wondered the darkly majestic streets of NYC earlier this month was that if it hadn't been for Carol Burnett, I would probably be a New Yorker right now.

Luckily, having been raised on the west coast, I have enough perspective to know that there are both good and bad connotations to that possibility. As great a town as New York is, I would not have given up being raised to appreciate the vast open spaces of the west, for anything. And now that I've travelled the world a little, I have enough perspective not to get overly patriotic about any one town.

Notwithstanding all of my traveling, I do feel like LA will always be my home, but this is conjecture when thinking about how little I've actually gotten to know these other places. And I felt so at home in NYC during my micro-life there that I may be spending considerable chunks of time there in the future. I have to admit, even though the whole town was one big hard attitude, those people really worked their way into my heart quicker than most cities do. Hope that wasn't just the icing-on-their-cake talking.

Lastly, my Travels Rendered journey into NYC was something that I look upon the same way I recall experiences having done this project in certain deep forests, or deep canyons of the Southwest. The dreamy aesthetic of that memory almost seems the same to a traveler like me. It was a places enshrouded by a maze of majestic structures, and all of the thriving or travail that took place within it was inherent to the nature of any wilderness area with that particular layout.

The Main Portion Of This Blog Entry:

I actually arrived back from New York over a week ago. Much like most of my returns home to LA, I had to spend roughly a week transferring important footage, paying bills, tending to due-dates, and finishing this entry before I could let people know I'm back. And mostly, I don't even consider myself back home in LA until I let the internet and the epically long construction on the 405 start to really bother me.

So, hello everyone!

Accompanying my recording itinerary in NYC was the concern that the days are at their shortest this time of year, leaving me very little daylight for filming. And extra worries didn't help, like finding places to stay in Manhattan that would hardly cost anything.

I used to know people in this city. Where'd y'all go?

Grand Central (day 1):

I left my cousin/uncle's house in New Haven on Wednesday--November 30th. I took the mainline to Grand Central Station, and after arriving at the main terminal there, set up my laptop in a corner to record some live a-cappella-ambient-music (a cambient music). It was really great getting those crowds bleeding over into my recording as I sang. The crowd acoustics at the main terminal there are astounding, and I managed to capture some extremely appropriate footage to convey that as well. I was feeling a little sad, having recently found out about an ex-lover's marriage, so my music was somber (with a touch of hopefulness)---pure Grand-Central perfection.

I had recently arrived in Grand Central almost a week earlier, but headed back out of the city a day later due to bad weather that had been on the way. During that initial session in Grand Central, I made some great a cambient music as well, perhaps even a little better than this, but soon over the following few days I managed to lose the camera, including that footage. It was my biggest disaster of the trip. So that's basically what I was here again now to do, make sure I got good footage of my session at Grand Central this time, Nov 30th, at the beginning of my week-long stay in the city. And yes, at this juncture I knew the rest wasn't going to be a cakewalk.

Arriving at my $30-per-night hostel called Broadway Rooms, both me and my Irish roommate Pete were pleasantly surprised to find a fairly pimped-out and clean apartment to share. It was centrally located, and complete with a full kitchen and a spiral staircase leading to a balcony overlooking the city (from below of course). I spent the second day acclimating, rehearsing a couple of songs, and walking around the "neighborhood."

Wallstreet:

Day three was my attempt to make it to the Statue of Liberty. After arriving at the Battery Park ferry, I soon realized it was actually still a bit too windy and cold to perform outside. I met up with a dude named Ohran, a recent computer graduate from Turkey, and because we both hit it off so well we decided to put off the Statue for a day and walk to Wallstreet where I had planned on doing a different session. First asking the guards if it was okay, I set up my laptop/studio right outside the federal reserve and, in honor of the previously vacated Occupy Wallstreet movement, I preceded to sing the continuation of a rendition of Revolution by The Beatles that I had first started at the capitol in DC weeks earlier. It came out great, and my new friend Ohran was a great inspirational influence, getting me to sing louder then I would have otherwise.

Afterwords, we broke bread (smoked), followed by a long stroll through the city in an attempt to walk all the way back to our apts. We soon said goodbye and ended up back on the subway. ;) That was the last I saw of him, due to the project. Still miss the dude a little. He was like a long-lost friend.

That night Obama was paying a visit to Manhattan for a charity event in the area of my hostel, so I got caught in people-traffic getting back. Welcome... to the beginning of little sleep!

The Statue Of Liberty:

Because I had to transfer footage at the end of each day (a slow process), it would always make me late for the next day. On day four I managed to make it to the ferry, late of course. It was too late to look up my ancestors at Ellis Island, but not too late to make music at the statue. The main bummer was that they had closed the statue's interior a month earlier, meaning that I could no longer have my session in the statue's crown. I decided to do a session anyway. I took the ferry, making music during the ride, and upon arriving at the island, set up shop on the lawn, center statue. Security kept approaching me about my equipment, but after I assured the 5th person that I wasn't doing anything commercial there, they finally left me alone to do my thing.

I successfully-but-laboriously recorded my a cappella rendition of America by Simon & Garfunkel, using the looping capabilities in Ableton Live, as always. Soon, I packed it up and left, knowing I would have to come back someday to do it properly in the statue's crown.

Feeling as unfinished as I did about this location, I recorded more music on the twilight ferry ride back, as though that would help. Definitely won't pay for the plane flight back later.

Central Park:

Day five, I was late heading out to Central Park, which was located only a few blocks from my hostel. Part of this reason was because I had stayed up all night before that, trying to find a cheap hostel to move to after my 4-day reservation was over, and trying to find a cheap flight back to LA at the end of my stay.

When I finally got to Central Park, I had about an hour left of sunlight. The trees were now all winter-stark, and the temperature was freezing. I probably shouldn't have tried so hard to find the "perfect spot in Central Part" with so little time left. Ended up recording some very basic electronic ambient music, using Reactor and Ableton, on Bow Bridge (for lovers) right at twilight. I suppose that was good enough. There were even a couple of lesbian lovers there looking at me like I was crazy in between tonging the hell out of each other.

Empire State Building and the Rockefeller Tree:

Knowing how important this location was, I managed to get some sleep and get an early start on day six. I walked 15-some-odd blocks to the Empire State building, bought a $60 ticket, waited on lines and got to the top only to find out that there was a policy against using anything but a camera up there. I would have had to wait for documented permission ahead of time in order to use my laptop. Unbelievable. By the time I made it back down to street level, it was night. Life in the BC, right? Onward...

The problem now was that I had booked my plane ticket a couple of days earlier, leaving me no choice but to average three locations a day to get everything done by the time I left New York. With the remains of the "day," I decided to follow through on my plan to do the Rockefeller Tree next. I endured the crazy crowds and set up my laptop on a walkway near the ice-skating rink. I used my headphones because at this point I was mildly tired of dealing with people. I recorded a psycho-sounding, a cappella rendition of Silver Bells which I then morphed into my version of I Need A Dollar (Aloe Black). Some looked at me with approval, some with worry. Priceless. And as far as I could tell, songs like that came out great, but I haven't really had a chance to listen back to any of it yet. Looking forward to that possible disappointment...

The crazy part, at this point, was that when I got back to the Broadway Rooms hostel that night, I had to gather all of my bags out of storage and take a subway with them all the way over to my new $30-per-night hostel in Brooklyn, called Putnam. If you could see how bulky and heavy my 3 bags were, and what a shady part of town I was headed for, you would have sympathized. Plus, my knees were still really weak after having mildly injured them while sparring with my uncle Bruce in Connecticut weeks earlier. What a setup! Would the clerks be there until midnight? Would they be jerks? Would I be locked out in that shady a neighborhood? Would the place be a shitsty? Would I be able to handle all that intense weight on subways around town?

Well, I managed it, and the guy at the hostel (Julian) was super nice, welcoming me to a hostel that was one of the best I've ever stayed in. That's what you get for trying.

Cony Island and Times Square:

The next day, day seven, I had intended to take a train to Montauk Point to get some great Atlantic Coast footage, and relive my childhood a little there. Due to all of the shifting, and finally a decent night's sleep, it was now too late in the day for Montauk, which was at least a 3-hour train ride away. I asked one of the clerks there at the hostel about a possible, closer alternative. We came up with Cony Island.

To give you some sense of the kinds of "extreme travel" situations I often find myself in: I probably managed to avoid a potentially bad situation/robbery on the way to the subway. One of the "bolder" things about this project (or just me) is that I'll take footage of bad neighborhoods, or anywhere, just to show the type of places I sometimes visit. After I filmed a quick segment of the hood, before descending into the subway tunnel, I noticed a dude subtly trying to hide the fact that he had been looking at my camera. His right hand was in his sweatshirt pocket the whole time. Dude basically followed me down to the ticket machines and while I waited for the person in front of me to buy their ticket, this guy stood behind me "innocently" faced away from me. I knew that once the person ahead of me left, this guy would try something, and if it wasn't a gun he was going to pull, I didn't want to have to kill somebody today. So I just walked back out and up to street level, and wouldn't you know it, I then saw this guy walk back up to street level himself, and then down the street. He looked pissed, but I wasn't. ,'-) That's just life in the f-cking ghetto!

I descended back down and was soon on the G subway towards the shore of Brooklyn, and I made some really cool synth music with my laptop during the ride. After arriving at Cony Island for the first time ever (basically just the Brooklyn shore), I got myself a hotdog and walked to the shore. I could tell that, in warmer times of year, this place is to the east coast the equivalent of what Venice Beach is to the west coast.

I soon ended up on a pier that seemed almost identical to the Venice Pier. Next to the fishing poles and the immigrant fisherman, I set up my studio on the nasty, dark, decayed wooden floor of the pier and preceded to record a twilight ambient music session. People walked up and then away as I continued. One man stopped to catch my eye and share a sinister smile with me. Moments like that make the project worthwhile.

Afterwords I grabbed some seafood at Nathans and jumped back on the subway for downtown. My last mission: Times Square/Broadway. Before getting there I decided to do a subway station session. I stopped at the 42nd St station, underground, and while setting up there on the bench I met a very open-minded local woman named Terri, who was an ex-artist developer and who also sang a little. I wanted to try out an idea I had, so I used her to do it; first I looped the sounds of the subway, and the people, in Ableton Live, then I had her sing over that while I looped her. I joined in singing myself at the end. It was beautiful, but the sound quality was a little strange. I would have to figure out what went wrong and try it again later.

I then walked up to the streets of Times Square and stopped at the Times Square Starbucks, where I usually went to charge my equipment. By the time I was ready to walk out of Starbucks, the streets of Times Square were completely desolate at 2am. Everything was neon shining, but no one was around, a surreal time to have my session. I set up my laptop in the center of the square, and with a decent jacket on, recorded a lonely a cappella version of the old standard As Time Goes By. It came out okay, but I struggled with a few of the parts, not having had enough time to practice it. By the time I arrived back at the hostel in Brooklyn, I only had a few hours left to transfer footage onto my drives and head back out for the next day of locations.

Sleep? Ha ha ha.

Ground Zero and Mt Sinia Hospital:

On day 8, I managed to arrive at Ground Zero late after somehow getting lost during the subway transfers--and partly because I had been lacking sleep I'm sure. I was late for a 1pm reservation, but after waiting in lines and the usual security checks, they let me in anyway. It was hard to figure out the right camera angles to get, even with the new memorial buildings under construction. It's hard to get just one angle that encompasses the essence of the whole area. That spot now pretty much holds more history and structure than anywhere else in town. My plan was to find a central spot and record my a cappella rendition of The Sky Cries Mary by Jimmy Hendrix, an extremely poetic gesture which didn't come off that simply. I tried and tried, but couldn't seem pull off an optimal performance. It was now clear that everything I had spent time tending to in the surrounding hours of each day had left no time for me to practice, and it was showing. I would have to come back another day and do Ground Zero again, too.

Ground Zero is basically a graveyard without tombstones. I can't really justify not giving an almost-perfect performance there. The security guards told me that they simply appreciated my gesture, having friends of their own who were buried there, too. I was grateful for the reciprocation, but I told them that I take their site too seriously to do a half-ass job. I would be back someday not-too-distant. Besides, one of the main inspirations for this project was a guy named Phillip Petite, who walked on a tight rope from tower to tower when the Trade Center was first built. Ground Zero has a slightly additional connection to this project.

After that session, I stopped at the usual designated Starbucks to charge everything. I had one more location to cover before finishing with the whole city: Mt Sinia Hospital, the hospital where I was born. But before that, I decided to do one more session at Times Square, where I would improvise something this time. I wanted to try doing at Times Square what I had done on the subway, and it worked with flying colors! I picked a crowded spot there, and then set up my laptop. Using Ableton Live, and my recording mic, I looped little sections of the crowd noise around me, and then improvised singing parts over those rhythms. It was a breakthrough! Amazing stuff. And with the footage to back it up, I think I've really got something. Let's hope I find enough time over the next millenium to show you... ;)

Excited, I soon left Times Square for Mt Sinia Hospital. The journey to Mt Sinia was through some serious hood at night, and when I finally arrived, the building looked fairly dark and ominous. But I had made it. There was the hospital where I was born; and, well... wasn't sure how I felt about that. Also wasn't sure why it looked so foreboding, aside from the fact that it's basically a huge black building. "I guess that explains a lot about me" I said to myself.

When I spoke to the desk clerk, he told me that I would only be allowed to enter the building during visiting hours, 11am to 9pm daily. Considering that I had to be on a plane at 11am the next morning, I now knew this location was shot, too. I would have to return someday and do this session as well. Across the street from the hospital was upper Central Park. I found a park bench over there, and recorded one last improvised a cambient music session before leaving.

I can't resist talking to cool people I meet along the way who are not thrown or put off by my intensity-of-focus. But this social habit contributes to my lateness, which makes me work harder, and in turn contributes even more to my intensity-of-focus. ,'-)

So now, at this point, I was so tired and half awake that I continuously got lost trying to get back to the hostel. I finally arrived back there only an hour-and-a-half before I was supposed to leave for the airport. Amazing. I had spent all that time finding an awesome deal on a hostel that I hardly ended up using.

The Flight Home:

I packed my things back up, showered, and rushed out the door with all my bags. I was now on the A Train to JFK, and I recorded one last session during the long ride (and no, not The A Train by Duke Ellington). I did an a cappella version of So Real by Jeff Buckley, something I had wanted to do at the top of the Rockefeller Center, but didn't have time.

After transferring to the airport monorail I thought I would make it, but as it turns out, I missed my flight. They booked me for a stand-by flight the next day, at that same time. I was so worried about missing this flight, too, that I just stayed at the airport for the next 24 hours.

Smacking my forehead as I boarded the plane, I realized that I had forgotten to record a JFK-airport-music-session during that wait, something I had even planned on months prior. I would now have to do it during my two-hour layover in Miniapolis.

Once I was on my flight and in the air, I whipped out the studio and got to work. I recorded two a-cambient pieces 40,00 feet in the air before landing at our one lay-over in Miniapolis. While waiting one-and-a-half hours at the Miniapolis airport, I recorded an electronic ambient piece using Ableton and Reactor synthesizers. It was great, and ended just in time to get back on the plane. But that had been easy, there were no blaring engines and flight attendants to contend with at the airport.

The last leg of the flight was the most potent. I recorded an a cappella ambient piece and a large, majestic, Ableton/Reactor ambient piece while flying over the canyons of Utah and the Southwest--a place I will be recording music at again in a few months for this very same project.

The knowledge of this constructed coincidence was a full-circle moment for me. What a beautiful day! Making beautiful music thousands of feet over where I will be making more beautiful music. Still, the moment I finished recording the last song (mainly because my batteries ran out), I let out a sigh of relief as I turned to start a casual conversation with the guy next to me. I was finally finished, for the year. Freedom at last! Thus, at this point, the fact that the guy next me was a rubber-compound investor was massively interesting.

Happiness pinnacled when Lisa picked me up from LAX at twilight and looked as gorgeous as ever. I hadn't seen her in so long that it was hard to register she was my girlfriend. Coming home to discover what a lucky man you are is always a fairly surreal experience. Wish that kind of natural gratitude would last. Too busy making weird, dark music for any "they-lived-happily-ever-after" type of stuff. ,'-)

Returning:

Now that I'm back, I'm going to focus on finally completing the Fateless Records relaunch, and will update this bog by adding entries that are missing here from the last two years. After that, I go back on the road in late March and will be gone most of the year, finishing this project and hopefully the last of my travels for quite a while.

Soon I will post some video content of this last trip, including bits of stuff from the beginning of it--my East Coast tour with Vic Hennegan. You can actually hear and download music from our tour right now (temporarily) at my SoundCloud page. Just click the download icon on the far right at the top of each track/song player. Feel free to let me know what you think, and I'll pass it on to Vic, brutal honesty and all.

http://soundcloud.com/dean-de-benedictis/sets/ambient-music-dean-and-vic/

Until soon,

Season's Greetings,

etc.,

Dean

I think over again my small adventures,

My Fears,

Those small ones that seemed so big,

For all the vital things

I had to get and to reach,

And yet there is only one great thing,

The only thing,

To live to see the great day that dawns

And the light that fills the world.

-Old Inuit (Eskimo) Song

The Dramatic Conclusion(s) - 2011

2011-11-27T12:48:00.000-08:00

I figure enough time has passed this year without an entry, especially considering how the last entry, months ago, was somewhat suspenseful. Sometimes I think plans that get changed the most on this project are plans to keep this blog, which is saying a lot, so that's probably an exaggeration.

Also, I've taken a little extra time figuring out how to revisit all the relevant, project-based experiences that I've failed to write about over the last year. I'm going to post them all (write about them) as recollection entries over the next few months, months that I will be home in LA.

Right now I'm still on the East Coast, nearing the end of this trip. For those of you who don't know how I went from: attempting Mt. Adams in Washington state last August -to- leaving the East Coast in November after months here, I will give a detailed synopsis below.

1. In early August I summitted Mt. Adams but failed to record my music and almost lost my life coming back down. More details in the coming entries/recalls.

2. A couple of weeks later I summited Mt. Adams again and successfully recorded my Cambient music at the top, making it back down off the mountain safely this time (a lot more details pending). You can see a clip of that music session here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1DO20CrnWo&feature=related. Help me to build up some views on it. ;)

3. I spent the next few weeks music-mentoring a friend-and-colleague in Tacoma, as well as preparing my music (cover songs and originals) for the other 4 mountains. They were: Hood, Rainier, St. Helens, and Shasta. Being near these mountains for periods of time is what inspires the music ideas, but the music still takes far longer to prepare than it looks like it will. It soon became a panic.

4. After realizing that it was now too late in the season to summit the bigger mountains, I decided to at least climb Mt. St. Helens and get that out of the way this year. I summitted St. Helens (for the second time in life) but failed to record music at the top. Excuse: a close friend and fellow recording artist died back in LA while I was at the base of St. Helens trying to prepare the music. The time I had set aside for St. Helens prep was mostly spent contacting the friends and family of my deceased friend in LA.

5. After running out of time and good weather at Mt. St. Helens, I left in a frantic rush to keep a year-long appointment back in LA. That appointment: a year earlier I had booked an entire East Coast mini tour with fellow ambient musician Vic Hennegan.

6. After making it back to LA, I had two days to get ready before hopping on a plane with Vic on the 28th of September.

7. We played a week-long mini tour in the Jersey/Philadelphia area, with one gig in Atlanta, hitting events and fm radio programs. Plenty more details later.

8. After the tour ended, I began Travels Rendered again. I went to DC to visit friends and family for 3 weeks while recording-and-filming music sessions in that area.

9. Then I took a train to Connecticut where I stayed with more family for three weeks, recording ambient-music sessions in the turning-leaves Autumn and attempting a few sessions in NYC, like a commute.

10. Not having planned to be out here so long, I got Thanksgiving out of the way and tomorrow I now leave for NYC where I will stay and finish all NYC sessions before hopping on a plane back to LA this Friday. I plan on recording live vocal cover songs at Grand Central, Times Square, The Empire State, The Statue of Liberty, Ground Zero, Central Park, and the Hospital where I was born (right next to Central Park).

Perhaps now you will have some idea of why I haven't kept the blog updated.

Although, there really is no excuse for not at-least posting up a few sentences before each relevant occurrence, huh? That is basically what keeping a blog is supposed to entail, right? Well, my only drawback lies in the fact that I like to keep a well-written, well-illustrated account of these projects. I want to honor them, and express them, not merely update them. So, perhaps some of you can shed light on this little dilemma... Please feel free to contact me with any suggestions you may have. Whether or not I can actually take you up on it, ;) I'm open to hearing them.

The next entry should be from home--LA. Let's see if we(I) can stick to an estimation this time. ;) I've been away from home now since last June, and I miss Lisa and everyone there.

It's really only these projects that remain a menace in my mind. I will be on the road most of the year next year, from late March until early October. And most of that time I will be doing difficult things for these projects: hiking, climbing, driving crazy hours, rushing, meeting-and-greeting, partying, having tantrums, burning up, freezing, etc.. It's hard to believe whenever I think about it; after everything that's happened so far, I get a three-month rest period before the biggest trip of the whole deal. Better make it count.

FYI, while I was staying with my friend in Tacoma, before Mt. St. Helens, I went to Seattle to interview for a college newspaper, regarding The Summit Music Project. The paper is called the Whitman Pioneer and, although it was a little brief as far as length and description, they honored the project, and even drew a cartoon caricature of it. :)

Article:

http://whitmanpioneer.com/arts/2011/09/08/dean-de-benedictis-embarks-on-mountainous-musical-odyssey/

Lastly: I would like to thank the following people, who's massive amount of help and support this year kept the project going through all of it's craziness:

Fred B. Jones

Jim Goetch

Nigel Longland

Beth and Bruce Berthel

Thomas Ronkin

Dave Israel

Lisa Mitterer

Mom and Dad

Talk soon!

P.S. The mountain in that red image at the very top (title) of this blog is in fact a shot I took of Mt. Adams in 1993 at sundown. ,'-) Finally, huh?

Victory At Lacks!

2011-08-09T12:21:00.000-07:00

Three days ago I got down off of Mt. Adams. Almost lost my life. I made it to the summit, but too late in the day, and after all of the time I took beta testing my internal rig for weeks, one switch was left off by accident and as a result my song was not recorded.

I've had three days to rest and now I'm heading right back up there to do it again and do it properly. As properly as possible.

Will write a more detailed report later. Have to take advantage of this decent weather.

Best,

Dean

P.S. Crazy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qw07qaALFKs

Visiting Mr. Adams

2011-08-02T17:16:00.000-07:00

I'm actually leaving for Mt. Adams today. Had to finish lots of pending sound checks and monologue writing for the top. It's really not just a music project, it's a movie, filled with philosophy and etc.

I just wanted to post this up in case people start getting worried because they haven't heard from me since my last entry.

Haven't checked any kind of email or inboxes online since my last posting because I couldn't afford to spend time on anything but getting ready and getting on the mountain. I'm ready now.

I've accounted for, and rehearsed everything, with the exception of some of the music I will make at the top. I want to leave a lot of it open to spontaneous interpretation, but to be honest, I'm really nervous about that. I hope my knack for the software and my musical skills are up to par when I arrive at the summit. I would hate to come all that way just to sound mediocre. This feels similar to how some musical performances have felt before hitting the stage. I don't like to rehearse too much, but it should be enough to where I feel confident that very little can go wrong. But still, ultimately it will be cool, and I'll try to have as much fun as I can relishing the moment.

Also, I suppose now is the time to mention this, even though I don't really feel like doing that. But: ever since this project started, there has been a fair amount of unsatisfactory attitudes towards it. These attitudes have ranged from people who complain about me not taking life seriously enough, to people thinking of this project as "no big deal," thus hardly responding at all to it at all. Most of the people who complained that "I wasn't taking life seriously enough," actually ended up being very helpful towards the project in other ways, so I would venture to say that it's the other attitude I find bothersome---people who don't really care at all.

To be honest, I, myself, don't really know how valuable this project will end up being, or how much appeal it will have to the world. What I do know, aside from how hard it is to achieve, is that it's something that's never been done before, both creatively and practically. Perhaps people may realize this after they see the footage. Or perhaps not. Perhaps it will take many years before people can see the value of what I'm doing. If this is true, then I suppose I'm prepared for that. I'm definitely no stranger to that feeling thus far in life.

So, this concludes my quick entry. ;) For some reason I felt like now was the time to write about that, as apposed to how much stranger it might sound after I got back. ;)

See you at the top,

Dean

The Summit Pondering Project

2011-07-24T23:50:00.000-07:00

OPENING:

I just recently found a minute to read back my last two entries on here.

Firstly, I would like to reassure any friends whom I spent time with this year that I was not speaking poorly of you, or complaining about hanging out with you. I was only complaining about my own imperfect ability to prioritize and be firm. I never meant to be ambiguous about that, if it seemed so. And I'm not being too hard on myself either. I suppose I have enough friends out there that some of you will simply bleed through the cracks at the most inopportune times. (Wow... that sounded weird... but I like it.)

Secondly, I just want

to state, for the "overall" record, that I'm fine and having a

good time. :) What I really mean is, I've seen destitution in corners of the world that are far too dark for me to ever forget that I'm thriving and toiling in paradise. When you've seen a lot of the world outside of US borders, the words "God Bless America" take on a new meaning, one with far more substance than blind, fundamentalist, American patriots will ever have. I am happy just by being a member of this society. Anything I do here is worlds easier to accomplish than in most other countries. Sorry if anyone disagrees. That view is based on my experience. Handle it. ;)

(But that should be the extent of my own patriotism for the year.)

That said/established, I'd also like to reserve the right to address "the challenges of paradise." Sure, I'm thriving and toiling here, but sometimes I would like to talk about the toiling part. It helps me to figure things out, "things" being the rather large details of my goals. In short: if I seem like I'm complaining a lot on this blog, I am. ;) But that doesn't mean I'm not generally happy in life also. I am.

Something else in regards to reading back my other entries on here: yeah sure, they are cute, but I still have the other eye open. Namely, I know I'm a great writer, but you would never be able to tell by reading this blog. When it comes to any craft that is compositional, aside from a very personal and specific form of jazz that I participate in, I simply cannot work fast.

Writing is my third (maybe fourth) talent, so I'm not so quick at it that I can scribble a bunch of crap about my travels and within days have it published as the most profound travel log of all time like the Kerouacs of the world do (save how I might be able to do even better than some of them if I did have the time). But it takes me a while to create something brilliant, no matter how small or short the work is.

The main reason I'm bringing this up is to briefly express how I would love enough time to craft these entries into bouts of acute and profound literature, but at this point that may happen very rarely, at least on this project. From now on, I must try to keep these entries either short, and/or unedited, and/or long with combined time zones (like this one) if I am to spend most of my efforts trying to make the project(s) at hand succeed. The fluidity and lyricism of my text on here will sway according to how much time I have allotted to each entry. As a gage, you will be able to tell how busy I am at any given moment according to that.

MY ENTRY:

For this entry I will try to, again, keep things chronological. And as usual, it will be filled with a peculiar mix of joy and failure. An important note about the failure: I picked the worst possible

Summer for The Summit Music Project, considering that this year has been breaking records for precipitation around the country.

How Robert is truly Rich:

My/our stay with Robert Rich was as nourishing as always.

Lisa met him for the first time and, just as anyone I've ever introduced him to, she loved him. It's rare of me to give irrational amounts of praise to one of my mentors, whether they are a friend or other, but at this point Robert is a bit overdue from me. As little as I've seen him through the years, he has remained a dear friend, extending gestures of friendship that would be rare even for certain members of my family.

Aside from the musical and professional assistance he's been known to offer me, in a variety of ways, he was even one of my shoulders to cry on during a massively difficult breakup I went through 10 years ago.

The odd thing is, he never really shows much indication that he actually remembers any of that. He only seems to remember that he is my friend.

But Robert is one of the more interesting people I know, possessing a constant flow of serenity, clarity, sociability, grace, constitution, insight, confidence, talent, worldly knowledge and certain forms of deep understanding that all manifest into his daily actions and gestures. Such is the music and living environment that he summons. For this reason, I never really mind much when it becomes mostly about him while in his presence. That's okay for me. There is something delicate, articulate and different about his passion. It's educational in a way that suggests something greater than the knowledge being emitted. For years now, I have even likened my visits with him to something the equivalent of a short-term visit to Eastern-religion Monasteries. It does something for my sense of "how well a person can live and drift in constant, quiet reverence of 'the mystery'." His is one of a few types of living environments that I've often gravitated to in my own life, so I consider friends like Robert replenishing to that specific practice.

When I think about how long I've known Robert personally, I think of how he may have influenced me in positive ways that I can't quite manage to take inventory of yet. Where most celebrity musicians I've known and/or worked with take on a general public attitude of "What do you want from me?" or "What can you do for me?" Robert takes on the attitude of "What can I do for you?" Perhaps this sentiment is engendered by echoes of his preference to Sufism over other dogmatic schools of thought and feeling, but I tend to think it's more of a human-nature call than that.

And I feel very lucky to have known Robert as a friend, while at the same time, it is a positive indication that my artistry is not too alien for this world, considering how many years he seems to have respected it. Regardless of his giving nature, Robert still holds standards about people deep down, just like the best of us. If he respects you highly, as a colleague or other, you will know him. I try to prioritize my life with those same standards, but perhaps I'm just not quite as good at it. ;)

Aside from his qualities as a person, Robert's qualities and standards for refinement as an artist need no introduction--which is an important part of what I'm leading up to. He is one of the key figures in the development of the entire "ambient music movement," and yet sometimes it becomes easy to forget that I was a fan long before I was a friend.

Don't get me wrong, I have my criticisms about Robert, too (as few as they are), him being a member of the human race and all, but I only mention that to give you a sense of my grasp on reality while praising him. And besides, perhaps I will save that kind of contrasting flesh for a biography of some sort someday? ;) Not sure if I will ever end up the most qualified for that job, or the most available, but it's a nice thought. Honestly, I guess I could go on and on about Robert, which I'm obviously starting to do right now. With that in mind, perhaps I will actually write something lengthy about him at a later time, but for now I will stick to the main topic of this blog.

We spent a total of two nights at Robert's house, which was pushing our schedule to meet the team at Mt. Rainier, but was something I saw as a powerful priority. I hadn't seen Robert in years, we had never collaborated before, and now I had plans to incorporate him into my project. More on that in a minute...

Among other worldly pursuits, Robert is also a fine-food and libation connoisseur, thus, to stay with him is to be somewhat engulfed in that love. He also makes his own award winning wines, rendering visits to the cellar, and constant

tasting, an irresistible pattern at the Rich household. It turned out that this brief lifestyle shift

actually did seem to take a small toll on our game, and our fitness for Rainier.

We spent our one full day with Robert catching up, and recording him playing his gliss guitar. The plan: later, when I get to the top of Mt. Hood with my laptop, I will import his gliss guitar track into Logic Pro and then proceed to build an entire song around it using the many synthesizers that come with that same program. It's basically our first time collaborating, and I guess we're using Logic Pro to do it.

The next morning we left Robert's home, in the Silicon Valley area, and made a straight shot for Portland within a day's time. I set up my speakers on the dash and during the entire drive I practiced my A Cambient music delivery (A Cambient is a form of ambient music performed a-cappella with a single voice) using Ableton and a mic while Lisa drove; that way I would be musically prepared for the top of Mt. Rainier. It was kind of humorous, like giving Lisa a live concert while she drove through the state of Oregon. And the practice didn't sound too horrible (I recorded it) but I was still fairly unprepared by the time we arrived. The drive went in a flash.

NIGEL'S HOUSE:

We arrived that night at my friend Nigel's house. In the small-yet-beautiful, countryside town of Mosier, off the Columbia River Gorge, Nigel lives with his wife Ruth and two boys, Liam and Rory. Their house is gorgeous, and they, too, have an Earthly appetite for the good things in life. Lisa took to them instantly,

but our first night here was spent only to pick up some equipment

we had shipped, talk to Nigel about the climbing ropes,

and situate our gear for the Rainier attempt. The next morning, we headed out for Mt. Rainier, already a day late for the climb and now hours late for the designated training day.

To be honest, I'm not sure how much detail I'm ready to

share about our Rainier attempt, because it happened to end up

one of the most humiliating experiences of my life, and I've had a lot of those. I will probably write about it with more

detail later, but lately I've been thinking about the possible consequences I might pay for continuing to be so honest on this blog, and therefor constantly make myself look bad. ;)

Until I get some real victories under my belt, I'm going to need all of the help and support I can get from you all, so going into

detail about my mistakes and failures seems counter to that idea after a while.

But I will describe this much:

A storm rolled in and covered the entire Mt. Rainier during the last day that our team had available to climb it. No team made it to the top that day, so it was obviously mostly the mountain's fault. ;) We didn't have a chance. But aside from that, we probably would not have made it to the top anyway, due to a few prep miscalculations I made. Our team was made up of three other members: James, Art and Emma. They were in their early 20s and were some of the nicest and most mature people I've ever interacted with. Unlike me, they were totally ready for the mountain, and of course this makes me feel horrible.

I made my apology clear to them, but that's never enough when

you've inconvenienced someone to that extent. Regardless, somehow the three of them were extremely big about the whole thing. There was very little anger from them and they were extremely helpful to Lisa and I while on the mountain. I would have really liked to be their friend off the mountain, but after what happened, that just doesn't seem practical.

But before I make this sound like I'm getting too down on myself for not being prepared enough again, let me continue with a few more facts. Mt. Rainier is the most massive mountain in the lower forty eight states; so serious a climb is it considered that some people make it their last training stop before the Himalayas. I attempted it last Summer with a guided team, but was stopped at Camp Muir due to altitude sickness and exhaustion. On top of my preparation mistakes, this year is reported to have record precipitation all over the continent. It was actually snowing on Rainier when we were there last week. This is very rare weather for Summertime, even here in the Pacific Northwest. I really have chosen the worst possible Summer to be here attempting these summits. Perhaps I sensed this, deep down, when I let myself get distracted over the last few months, but no matter. It is what it is.

Our day was a beautiful climb, complete with cloudbursts everywhere, and majestic moments, and group glissades downhill that were fun-as-hell! ;) Points given.

Also, as usual, somehow I have absolutely no intention of giving Rainier up. I'll get there.

Thus... meanwhile, back at the ranch: after Lisa and I returned from Rainier, we had a few good days to spend with Nigel and his family. They are another great household, but in a different way, personifying everything harmonious and highly functional in the best of American family life. Nigel is a doctor in a Portland emergency ward, and Ruth is a glass-and-tile mosiac artist. I met Nigel a year ago, through another close friend of mine, Fred B. Jones. I met Fred at a hostile/hotel in London, 2003. Since then, he has become a good friend and, possibly even more important to me, has been an extremely appreciative fan.

Because Fred recently went from world traveller to family man, he couldn't join me for any stretch of this project last year, so he told Nigel about me instead. Nigel immediately expressed interest in The Summit Music Project, and since then has become an extremely helpful friend. Nigel has an extremely generous nature, and living off the Columbia Gorge for so many years, has become somewhat of an authority on recreational sports in the region. Plus Nigel is situated smack dab in the middle of both Mt. Hood and Mt. Adams. Both he and his family came along at just the right moment.

Oddly enough, this year Fred and his family came to visit Nigel the same week Lisa and I were here, so we all hung out for a little while. :) It was a trip (pun intended) seeing everyone together. I had quite a few profound moments inside myself, deeply in my consciousness, while spending time with everyone here. And of course, I think they really liked Lisa.

Fred and his family left the other day and earlier in the week I dropped Lisa off at the Portland bus station to grab a bus back to LA in time for work. After that, I stayed in Portland a little while longer to train in the Skyline hills west of downtown (love that town) and look for equipment. Also, driving back and forth between Portland and Hood River and Mosier, because of hard drive buying issues, has not helped either.

But yes, basically, I am alone on this trip/endeavor again. Aside

from the fact that I miss Lisa, I can't help but assume that it may actually help me to focus better without her around. Make no mistake, Lisa has been so helpful to me that there would literally be no project without her, but now that

she's done such good for the project, the ball is basically in my

court. This task will require a strange kind of focus in order to do it successfully and safely.

And I've been training again, but staying in Mosier or any town in-and-around Portland is even more libation-tempting than Robert's house. This part of the state is practically the beer and wine capitol of the country, so that seems to bleed through the cracks, too. ;) But just a little. And my God the reds and IPAs are amazing here! If you've never been here, you should come by and see what mean. Wrong place to come to if you're on a strict diet.

But the real training will be the mountains themselves, and suddenly after days of overcast we seem to have another open weather window. It's actually kind of like a heat wave all of the sudden. Although I'm not fully prepared creatively, I'll have to just wing it and make my Mt. Adams attempt soon. Shouldn't be too bad ("he says"). I'm hoping to leave late tomorrow, but we'll see. If I have to depart early the next morning, then so be it. I have a plan that may help a lot if the storms roll back in again. (More on that below.)

I've had constant issues with the hard drives I'm buying to back up my previous files, which entails driving back and forth between towns for refunds. On top of that, I'm still doing work (although very little now) to launch my label before the Summer is over, and I'm scraping the very bottom of my project budget. The nice house I'm staying in helps, but I need to make this all work with my last few hundred dollars before the next small ASCAP check in mid August. ??? But I'll figure something out.

Nigel and his family just left for Canada today, leaving me alone here in both houses. Before that starts sounding weird and lonely, first off, it's nice to be able to yell things here that I wouldn't yell in front of anyone else, ;) and it's also helping me to focus on my practice for the mountain. I plan on performing 5 songs on each summit: two a-cambient improvisations, one pre-composed a-cambient piece, one a-cambient cover tune, and one improvised electronic synth piece. That should do it. ;) I've gone through lots of different configurations for the track list at the top, but I think that is it. And yes, I must practice them while still on the ground, and still in a quiet environment. The last thing I need at the top is to sound bad, or have to suddenly tweak things more. God knows what the weather will be like up there and/or how much time I will have.

A friend of mine back in LA didn't seem to understand this when I was explaining it to him. He wanted to think of me as simply arriving, whipping out my axe after not having prepared at all, and then letting 'er rip out of nowhere. In the type of environment that exists up there, I can pretty much guarantee that if I was lucky enough to get my software working, I would then sound absolutely horrible. I'm not going through all of this craziness for that. And besides, all I'm doing ahead of time, aside from the composed stuff, is setting up the audio. Outside of that, the music will be totally wing-it-style and in the moment, with the addition that it will actually sound good. My friend will probably get the picture after he sees the footage, or hears more perilous stories yet to come. This is kind of dangerous stuff, baby.

Also, if all goes according to planned (;) I may not be here at the house much myself either. My plan now, for Mt. Hood and Mt. Adams, is to live at the base camp elevations (Lunch Counter for Adams, Hogsback for Hood) until I get to the top of each. The trick is to get to each summit without a storm obstructing it, so it may require this exact waiting tactic. I must try to force my way up there now, and this is the only way I can think to do that. I will probably hike back into town for supplies on days that are too stormy for attempts, and then back to camp before each night. It's Summer, so I shouldn't have to worry about massive Arctic swirls coming in.

And even though that elevation is a little bit exposed, and winds are really thrashing around outside right now, luckily, all of the traveling and climbing I've been doing over the last two years has made me a lot more resistant to the cold, so it may not be too bad living at that elevation. We'll see.

But yeah, after everything that's happened, I get the feeling I will have to do some drastic things in order to break my chain of failures and all of the mental hand-holding that's been going on. Something needs to happen, and the last time I looked, it wasn't anyone else's job.

Nigel told me he would be happy if I even just climbed an ant hill for now. Maybe I'll try that if I don't make Adams. ;) Anything will do I guess.

See you at the top.

Dean

P.S. No black berries are growing here yet but the cherries are totally exploding and awesome. I'm almost sick of them. Almost.

On Our Way

2011-07-15T07:04:00.000-07:00

Caught up and did some beautiful work with Robert Rich in regards to this project. He recorded himself playing gliss guitar for me to, at a later time, bring to the summit of Mt. Hood and create a piece with up there. Looking forward to that.

Meantime, a bucket of nerves and stress mixed with a hint of depression makes a juicy coctaile--ours. We are out the door right this very second to meet our team at the Paradise Trail Head, at the base of Mt. Rainier. At this point, with my lack of experience, and the fact that I'm the team leader, it is likely we will not make the summit, or even close. But we are ready to try--and we will.

See you at the bottom! (Whether or not we ever leave there!)

Dean

Leaving Again for SMP: "A Year Has Passed Since I Wrote My Note"

2011-07-10T10:46:00.000-07:00

THE SUMMIT MUSIC PROJECT 2011

Hello everyone,

It is now July 8th, 2011, and I am already/suddenly scheduled to depart again for Washington today (July 10th), in another attempt to summit the Cascades. Before I deem that the only moral to this story though, I would like to express my regret in not keeping this blog updated throughout the past year. You see, I've had many ups-and-downs, and as goes the nature of anything extravagant that one may find themselves trying to accomplish in life, there have been far more downs. Still, we all know how in fashion that is for me, considering how Murphy's Law seems to come extra crispy for Dean's life pursuits. So, I decided to plow forward as much as possible rather than sit and dwell, publicly, for long periods of time. In hindsight, perhaps that wasn't the best idea either, considering how many negative aspects I'm left to recall now in one shot. ;)

Now that the trip has arrived, it will be crucial that I keep each one of these blog entries short if I am going to succeed with the project--but this entry will be excluded from that rule. I have a lot of catching up to do here. Also, the only way to really update you (this blog) on what has happened up to now is to basically vent a lot of frustration, due to the negative nature of my present circumstance, but I don't want any readers to take this the wrong way. I'm not writing about all of this because I'm being apocalyptic, I'm just updated you on what is happening, internally and externally, in the most honest way that I can. And again, I'm not keeping this journal to entertain, nearly as much as I'm keeping it as a record. This is a project, not a pretty travel log. ;)

But if you really can't stand my negative musings, just skip past it to the bottom where I briefly touch on the positive aspects of my coming voyage.

So basically, the last time I was getting ready to write an entry on here, I had just finished living a mini lifetime, staying with a Navajo family for six weeks during the Best Of Both Worlds Project in October-November, 2010. So much happened during that six week period that I'm sure I subconsciously sabotaged myself from writing about it because of how ominous and/or difficult a task it might be to express successfully. A lot happened, and it was quite miraculous actually--but that's definitely not the full story.

I WILL write about it with more detail and give it it's own entry as soon as I'm done with my Summer objectives in the immediate. In a nutshell, regarding the Navajo project: Don (the native flute player) and I went through hell and heaven during my visit, trying to successfully complete our project together. We went through serious danger and hardship, and through it all we managed to succeed--only to have all of our efforts destroyed at the end of my stay when someone broke into my car and happened to steel the one bag that held all of our footage.

We were all devastated. Practically a whole community of us. But as that very community is learning about me, these types of events are never an invitation for me to give up. I'm a stubborn bastard for good ideas. That may even be my undoing someday.

So, as it stands, I will be going back next Spring to do it all again with them, this time for a far more compressed period, considering that it will be a part of my bigger continued adventure, Travels Rendered. TR was another thing I had to put off this year, because it would have gotten in the way of my prep for the Cascades this Summer. So I will now be driving all over the Southwest one more time next year for TR, making music in both strange and familiar places, thus it's important that I try to finish the Washington cascades this Summer to make room.

(TO THE ORDER AT HAND - THE S.M.P. 2011)

Thus, I've been prepping for this stupendous task, The Summit Music Project 2011, where I will attempt to summit Mt. Hood, Rainier, Shasta, Adams, and St. Helens and make live ambient music at the top. The only problem is, my worst character flaws have gotten in the way of this, again, and as a result I am not NEARLY as prepared as I should be. I just can't seem to outrun my knack for distraction. Not only is this scary, but I'm starting to experience the same self-loathing I began feeling last year after realizing that I hadn't put enough effort into my prep for those summit attempts. I mean, this is getting ridiculous; I've had a whole year to prepare, and I'm looking at myself right now and shaking my head. I am physically ready, but there is still tons of creative and organizational work to be done, and now with only days left to do it. Impossible. I simply can't do within a couple of days what would usually take at least a couple of months to do. I simply can't.

Still, I don't want to get too down on myself about it, considering how many factors occurred over the last year that were out of my control. After the theft of my drives last Fall, I returned to LA only to experience a hard drive crash with my backup drive here at home. Having now completely lost two years of work (and adventure), I took measures to recover that data, which required time and money. Then, when the new year rolled around, I hooked up with friends and colleagues whom I would usually work with, not realizing that taking even one of the remaining 5 months I had was going to be detrimental. I even spent a considerable amount of time setting up a music tour for Vic Hennegan and I, which I thought would take much less time than it did.

Plus, the long-awaited relaunch of my record label, Fateless Music was more eminent than ever before after acquiring two new artists who were friends of mine that I respect artistically.

The pressure was on for me to finish the relaunch, so I floored the gas in trying to get our celebratory Fateless Compilation CD ready; unfortunately, most of the artists I had found for this compilation didn't place quite as much importance on it, and I was forced to have to create the extra music that was missing after most of them backed out without a word. Considering what a perfectionist I am, the time it took me to make that music was also detrimental to the project.

Next on the list was some added pressure of a long personal/family-drama issue I was having. That didn't help with time much either.

And to cap it all off, my laptop hard drive finally died a few months ago, completely (which I had been previously unaware was a common and acceptable occurrence in the world), and with it, some of the music I was working on and all of the software I was dependent on for music and video production. Some of that crucial software I had bought, but the rest was mostly stuff that I got from friends, legally, with the exception of a few cracks.

It was disaster, and to make matters worse, Macintosh took four times longer than they were supposed to because every time I got the laptop back from them something else would be wrong with it that wasn't wrong before. Six some-odd weeks later the WHOLE laptop was fixed, but now I had to deal with replacing the software. That took easily another month to do because of the red tape of having to re-apply for the serial numbers to my previously owned programs, and having to transfer ownership of my newly-bought-used programs. Now I'm finally set up again with Logic, Reactor, Ableton, Modul8 and SnapzProX, but just in time to leave. NOT good. I've had hardly ANY time to set this stuff up for the trip, and now here I go.

It really ticks me because here I am, a single individual who's expected to be punctual about all things important to him, and because a few huge, reputable, corporate entities whom I depend on can't be punctual with me, I'm being screwed up and made to look bad in the process. And the worst part about that is how I seem to look even worse just talking about this... because, who the Hell am I to talk like this about huge corporate icons that we all worship and rely on?

Regardless of said external frustration, I still can't deny that the biggest obstacle I've failed to overcome here, is me; this has been for the age-old reason that I just can't seem to cure myself of the disease of having an inability to prioritize.

I mean sure, hanging out with people who don't really care about these projects doesn't help, and neither does all the corporate indifference I experienced, but the bottom line is that I let myself get distracted--again. It's like a nightmare I can't wake up from. And these mountains are way too hardcore and unsafe for me to be risking my life just to do something ill-prepared at the top. That's just absolutely friggin' preposterous! But if I fail again this year, I will have to try again next year and go through the whole thing again. At this rate, I won't be able to have my life back until years from now. The thought really s-cks! I will be uprooted, in transit, and practically transient, way past my genuine inspiration for the whole thing. Yay! ;) But whatever... that's cool...

And that said... THE POSITIVES:

All doom and gloom aside, I'm still looking forward to a Pacific-Northwest Summer spent with friends and mountains and forested places and new faces and musical expressions of it all. It will be filled with color, and both new feelings and old memories will be summoned in the process. So Hallelujah on that!

My first stop will be to visit a good friend and known musician, Robert Rich. Lisa and I will stay with him one night and then off we go to the PNW. I've actually even figured out a way to incorporate Robert into the project as a music collaborator. It should prove interesting, if it works.

Lisa and I will do Mt. Rainier first, in less then a week. I've assembled a team of 5 for this, and Lisa will be one of the members. That does worry me a little. We'll be roped up and everything, because of how hardcore a mountain this is. It's the biggest, most dangerous and most glaciated mountain in the lower 48 states. But considering how compressed all the prep got got, we ran out of too much time to be able to do any other mountains first. We now have one day to train before our Rainier summit attempt starts on the 15th. Ouch. We will take 3 days to summit, and I have an acclimation tactic that should guarantee us a successful attempt, if nothing else gets in the way. The bottom line is, if I sense any unusual danger, which is apparently typical on Rainier, I will turn us back.

But if we make it to the top, and I create music successfully up there, this will be a REALLY BIG DEAL. It will be a true lifetime triumph, the likes of which few have ever experienced, even those who summit often. We are attempting the biggest achievement first, so wish us luck!!!

I'll let you know as soon as we are back at base level, which should be on-or-around July 19th.

Until then! Thanks everyone!

All the best,

Dean

P.S. Oh, and I forgot to mention: a few days ago I did my last training by climbing Mt. Baldy again and trying to make some beta-testing music at the top. The mountain was beautifully awesome, but the music I made came out horribly, just like the first time I was there. This shows me how much time I still have to make for sound tweaking and set-up prior to arriving at Rainier in 5 days. Not only that, but while I was there I decided to make my training more rigorous by following an aesthetically pleasing stream most of the way up to the summit; as a result, I twisted my ankle, badly, and then on the way back down I twisted it two more times. It is now something short of sprained, and I hope it will heel considerably in 5 days. I'll keep the hot and cold presses coming.

A Couple Of Links To Tide You Over

2010-12-10T20:44:00.000-08:00

Below is the link to our new official site/page for The Best Of Both Worlds project--a new project I'm doing with Navajo flute player D'Von Charley, which I consider a subsequent project to Travels Rendered. Here is the page:

https://sites.google.com/site/thebestofbothworldsproject/

And here is the direct link to the article they wrote about this project (The Best Of Both Worlds Project) in the Navajo Times. It was a very accurate and honoring feature, and got front page of the Arts & Entertainment section.

http://www.navajotimes.com/entertainment/2010/1210/120910music.php

I'm nearing the end of this trip, and it's been a long and difficult project, so I will update the blog with a new entry very soon, explaining more.

All Will Be Revealed

2010-11-03T11:26:00.000-07:00

THE SUMMIT MUSIC PROJECT - 2010

(My Glorious Failure and Other Uplifting Tales)

Note to the reader who cares (and the ones who don't):

I have always been the type of artist who lives, eats, drinks, and sleeps my work. There is a semi-permeable membrane between my personal and professional life. So, for this blog entry, and a few others, you will find not only information on this project, but also the personal topics that affected it.

My apologies for such a long void between now and my last entry.

When last I left off, I told you I was about to attempt Mt. Adams;

some of you may have even thought that I died up there or whatnot---understandable. I suppose the rest of you actually

know me even better than I do, but don't assume that that makes

me the Boy Who Cried Wolf or anything. ;) I "Never Cry Wolf"

unless I really think one is there, and an accident may still occur

on one of these mountains/excursions, sooner or later, minus the

ability to cry at all; just being a realist in light of the risk these climbs entail, but no worries. ;)

Also, I think it's important that I make you aware of something else before I continue on with what is, essentially, a story

about utter - yet temporary - failure. There are very good reasons

for everything that has happened, and not happened, thus far.

The thing is, I'm doing both of these projects to constitute two motion picture films that I plan on producing in the not-too-distant future. I once thought, "there's no better subject matter a

person could possibly be a better authority on than something they themselves are doing." "Yes, Dean." I answered myself back, "I like that. F-ck it. Let's do it!"

Thus, as the plan goes...

Travels Rendered will be my first film, which is a documentary about my musical travels through the American West and elsewhere. This will be fairly easy to produce, I just have to travel a little more. But (film title TBA), which I just returned from after attempting to summit the Cascade mountain range, will be the next film, and will involve a lot more than just a music based documentary.

Other than being the result of a variety of film techniques, it will also be ladened with what seem to be exclusively conceived

philosophies that I've never expressed in any public fashion---considering how I've never been much of a soap-box guy (and whether or not they've actually been previously conceived by countless others without my knowing it). At this point, I will be using the mountains to "elevate" my philosophies, or maybe just my confidence for sharing them. Either way, it is more work than

one can imagine, and considering how many failed attempts I have behind me now, I may actually skip making the Travels

Rendered documentary so I can focus on the bigger film and the greater triumph. Also, continuing to run a label and release music as a recording artist, which I have every intention of doing until the day I die, will be tricky enough to juggle with just one lofty ambition.

So, the reason that The Summit Music Project has been so difficult to achieve, thus far, is because I'm not just hiking up a few mountains to make music at the top and film it, I'm trying to summit four major U.S. volcanos in order to film a very complex motion picture---all by my lonesome. It's a near impossible task when one considers:

The music -- on-location inspiration for ideas, and sound checks at the base camp of

each mountain so that music fidelity in the middle of freezing wind at the summit is not too atrocious.

The script -- on-location inspiration to write down the proper wording so that any common

threads I'm tying between scientific/historical facts about the mountain and my own

philosophies, while on the mountain, are clearly expressed and understood.

The filming -- taking time and care enough to film the best moments possible, at the best angles, every step of the way.

The equipment -- all of the survival equipment needed in high-altitude ranges, and all of the properly charged music, video and audio equipment nessessary for making this film, down to the last detail.

With all of this in mind, it's no wonder I've had so many difficulties with the project.

However, realizing this fact has taken me from feeling totally depressed about my failures, to

being totally understanding and even patting myself on the back for the magnitude of what I'm trying to accomplish. Plus, I've gotten so good at doing all of this now, that I'm %100 confident I will have %100 success with the Summit Music Project

next year, whether or not I actually do. Even so, I'll be in

Washington for the entire summer to make sure it happens.

Like everyone else, friends have come and gone in my life, so through the years I managed to maintain only one good friend in the Seattle/Tacoma area. Luckily, on this last trip, I made a couple of future friends, so staying with more than just one won't be as much of an issue throughout the season next year.

Regarding this entry:

The photos and text I'm posting on here are a chronology of everything that happened from the point of my trip where I last posted up until now. Also, I take both you and this blog seriously

enough that I'm not going to lie to you or provide you with all-American-courtesy small talk.

There may actually be some readers (or friends) out there who think that this blog is a "feel-good" blog, or something for self help, but I can't even express how wrong that is. I keep this blog solely for the purpose of sharing and archiving my

honest experiences with these two projects, and anything that ties to them. I will write about anything that I think creates the story I want to tell, or that keeps a record I want to keep. I think I may have actually lost a couple of friends recently because we finally had it out after I realized that all they ever seemed to want to hear from me, regarding my life, was a bunch of one-sided, blind optimism, even when it came to blogs like this. That's not what I'm about, and never

have been. It's about the whole picture for me, the whole experience.

And perhaps it was an even deeper dilemma than that, considering how, unfortunately,

lack of patience with the issues of one's fellow American does seem to be what this culture is about, among other modern hang ups/evasions. So, as you all know in your varying ways, it's

not always easy living in America. And, if you happen to be experiencing the same exact annoyances as I am here - e.g. people's inability to value sincerity and emotion in other beings unless it has something to do with cruel and/or stupid humor - then call me. We should get together and go bowling. I'll probably throw all strikes with that kind of inspiration.

Before even heading out on the road for this trip, I had been contacted by my aunt, on my father's side. She owns the house where I keep my studio and have lived with my west-coast cousin, being my aunt's daughter, for the past 10 years. My aunt gave me a month-long deadline to move out because she knew I had recently found another place to live/work, and because I have not always payed my rent on time. I had made my own bed, but man, right now sure was an inconvenient time to have to lie in it. I was in the middle of taking on a huge goal, and the pressure to move was adding another 100 pounds to the weight of my pack. And mega-bless Lisa's heart for helping out with that as much as she did, and for her undying support.

Mt. Hood:

So, as you may have read on my last entry, after my Mt. Rainier attempt, I 'chillaxed' with my old friend Dave Israel and his family in Tacoma, and worked on my Rainier report/entry a little too long before heading out to Mt. Hood for an attempt there.

Basically, I didn't succeed on Mt. Rainier because the team was climbing too fast for

me and my weight; but I didn't succeed on Mt. Hood because I'm such a space cadet sometimes that a storm I had been hearing about rolled in sooner than I thought it would (as well as some rock fall risks I didn't consider). The risk on a mountain like that is just too great. Literally, the day before I arrived there, the authorities found two dead bodies that had been on Hood's glaciers for months. That kind of thing happens there often.

I was already clear on my narrative for this mountain, so I could've left early enough in the morning to beat the coming storm---if I hadn't still needed to come up with my music idea for the summit, as well as sound check it. Dowww!!!! Damn paces! I rushed anyway, hoping it would make a difference. After my late start, I hiked into the grey on Mt. Hood and soon turned back, having gotten a decent work out; this was good enough for me, regardless of the overall disappointment.

It's always good to have my life. And as far as my years of stupid-risk taking and near-death experiences go, they're hopefully long gone.

Still, "Next Year" was now becoming my motif on this trip,

without even realizing it.

Mt. Adams:

I worked my way back to Dave's for another spell with the Israel

family. During my visits with him, Dave shared his new-found talent for creating electronic music. I had to admit, I was impressed, so large amounts of my time there were spent

encouraging him and his efforts, balanced with working on my

blog. Soon, the fun ended when I caught another glimpse of a

gloomy and lingering forecast. I rented more ice climbing gear and headed back towards Portland, this time to then go east, deep into the Cascade wilderness, and attempt Mt. Adams.

There was "NO WAY" I was going to "screw this one up," were the famous-last-words in my head. I could swear I had left early

enough to summit this mountain. Adams was supposed to be the easiest Cascade Volcano to climb, and it was just as important to my project as the other peaks

were. Well, that knowledge didn't help me one bit. I got there late in the evening because I had ran out of gas on the way; then, I basically had to write out my script - also inspired by the mountain - thus finally getting to bed at 4am when I was

supposed to be waking up to climb.

And it was the first time narration for a mountain took me that long to write.

The next day, a fellow hiker suggested I use the extra time to see Multnoma Falls - an Oregon landmark - instead of "wasting the day" at the base of Adams. Multnoma was about an hour and a half away. Feeling as cocky with time as I tend to get, I figured I could actually go there to make some music, and still make it back to base camp with time enough to come up with an on-

location musical idea, as well as sound-check it before getting an early night's rest. Friggin' LOL, buddy!!! I don't even think I need to go into detail about how bad a decision that was, but I will say that I made some fairly interesting a-cappella ambient

music at Multnoma Falls---on an extremely crowded bridge.

If you could imagine me making live ambient music while waiting on line for a ride at Disneyland, that's exactly what this was like. It was an extremely unworthy reward for such a great sacrifice, considering that by the time I got back to base camp and finished sound-checking, it was early the next morning again.

Refusing to try climbing a Cascade mountain with little sleep, I slept, and then headed out, mid-day. I met some very cool people on the way up, but exchanging numbers would not help me in this situation. After a long and beautiful climb, ending with altitude sickness at little over

10,000 feet, I realized that it was too late in the day to make it to the top by sundown. On top of that, the storm was suppose to roll in for sure by that evening, bringing a foot of snow to the entire Cascade range. It was a mystical time of day to be up there, but man... not a fun circumstance. So, I pondered what this meant while working my way back to the car at night, and soon got more lost than I've been in a really long

time. I almost spent the night under a tree in the approaching storm, fearing for my life and mumbling to myself for hours. (It's always funny when one survives to laugh about it.) I finally returned to the camp and to my car (Shangri'La), and then the pondering truly began, for days.

Just like the year before it, I had now lost my weather window to climb any of the northern Cascades, by a single day. Just like the year before it, the first storm of snow season rolled in hours before I could make it to the top of anything. I had been in Washington now for almost a month, and didn't even summit a single mountain. Looking at this pattern, I blamed myself, heavily, for not even wanting to succeed in

the first place. All of my past self-loathing were raining on me like the storm itself. But soon, as I stated above, I realized the magnitude of what I've been trying to accomplish, and just how massive an undertaking it truly is.

This was a relieving thing to realize on my own, without having to call Lisa or someone else for moral support. ,'-)~ I'm obviously getting better with that.

I licked my wounds at Dave's again for a few days, and focused on encouraging his music even further by offering to have an ambient

jam session/recording session with him somewhere out in the Washington rainforest.

He eagerly took me up on the offer, and my last day staying with him was spent out in the rainforest, making live ambient music.

Dave and I have known each other for an extremely long time. We were close hiking partners many years ago, and through much of that we even shared similar taste in music during our

ventures. To finally make tranquil music together out in the wilderness was a surreal turning point for the both of us, and we relished it as such. Also, what made this possible was

that Dave's method for making electronic music is kind of a new-found, "portable discovery" that I will talk more about in another entry.

Mt. Shasta:

After leaving Dave's, I stopped in Portland one last time, this time to visit my friend Howard Givens.

After he spent an afternoon spoiling me rotten with Portland ales, I headed east again, this time to visit a friend of a friend who lived in the beautiful, small town of Mosier, outside of Hood River. His name was Nigel: a fascinating man, with a fascinating family, in a fascinating town, and living in a beautiful house. Good times. The moment I arrived in Mosier, at twilight, they

took me to a party that was jollier and funky-er than most of the ones I find in LA---when I'm looking. I stayed with them for two nights in their guest house with a view of the country side, and because Nigel suggested that I record a track there, I did. I used my acoustic guitar. There was a kinship I felt with Nigel and his family, and they were a well-timed decompression.

Upon leaving their house, I decided that hope was not lost for the year. I would drive east and then cut south, through Bend and the scenic rout (seeing some highways I'd never seen, and the Oregon Cascades for the first time), and then cut west past Klamath into the Mt. Shasta area. There, I would make my last summit attempt for the season, having failed on Shasta one year before. It was an epic, open-road drive, including a brilliant twilight, and during which I recorded some epic, on-the-

road, music-collection mixes that sadly corrupted and went bad. (Two of them survived.)

I arrived in Shasta with perfect weather, and the 5-day forecast

called for increasingly sunny skies---now that I was an entire state away from the northern Cascades.

This was the southern

Cascades, totally different. I stopped in town, got together what equipment I needed, and started towards the Shasta trailhead while listening to boatloads of Tangerine Dream for nostalgic inspiration. My sound check, this time, was brief. By now, I was so in shape that I practically flew up what had been a manhood-challenging mountain climb the year before it.

Everything was moving along innocently well, and I even got an early night's rest after concocting a flimsy tent between trees in a wind storm. I awoke at Shasta base camp around 3am and started my ascent towards the top. My first-light climb was smooth, and aside from another lone hiker, there wasn't a single soul on the mountain. Regardless of the desolation, this was proving to be a guaranteed victory. My altitude sickness at 11,000 feet wasn't even bad. I was on top of the world, figuratively; this was the exact occurrence that I needed for my spirits to start rising to the occasion again, and it seemed as though I had it in the bag.

Upon reaching eleven thousand feet, and around 1:30pm, the nightmare began. Somehow, against what the forecast "guaranteed" would be a day of sunny skies, a freezing storm rolled in out of nowhere and covered the entire top half of Mt. Shasta. I kept hiking, hoping it would lift, but two hours and twelve hundred feet later, I realized it wasn't going to. I was submerged in it.

The frustration was unthinkable. I screamed at the sky, as I sometimes do. Then I screamed at the mountain. I managed to get a signal up there and I filmed myself talking to Lisa about this on my cell. All of my respect for the mountain, and every mountain, had gone out the window in one foul swoop.

I got off the phone and filmed an even worse conniption, cursing the mountain as though it were the corporate perpetrator of some broad, social injustice. After starting my long trek back down, I cried, thinking about how close I had gotten to every summit, and how long a year felt now--just to wait for another chance. As it was, I was being evicted from my home of 10 years, who knew what else would happen in a year's time?

Honestly, I still don't know, but whatever. So, after wiping that sh-t off my face, I stopped and took out my laptop to create an extremely quick, loop-based, vocal ambient piece in honor of the storm and the attempt. My disappointment obviously affected my ability to innovate, a little too much. The music was interesting, and kind of heartfelt, but I'm not sure I would play it for anyone. Regardless, as I descended, the beauty of the furious storm clouds entranced me, and won me over after the bitterness I was previously holding on to. It was a beautiful hike.

Kickin' it off in Eureka:

I shook off even more of the disappointment after going back to the town of Shasta to get a good meal and ponder the magnificence of the project. I caught up on some emails

and contacted my friend Eli, an experimental, indie film maker I've known for years, who, with his roommate Robin, was waiting for me to visit him in the town of Eureka, on the coast.

In what was epic storm weather, at a ground level, I set out for Eureka. I even made more great on-the-road mixes---that corrupted again. ,'-( To get there, I had to drive through the Trinity National

Forest, one of the most dense and preserved rain forests in the country, and a region I hadn't visited since I was eleven years old at camp. I hadn't even seen Eureka since then. Guess I figured the surfing couldn't have been that great. Blasting through

the past and out to the ocean, I arrived in Eureka where my two friends and their alternative lifestyle greeted me ever so stylistically. I stayed for 4 days and it was an extremely reviving experience after everything I had just gone through. Eli and I even filmed ourselves making live music on the Eureka shores. Yeah yeah, we had plenty of humble mutant festivities.

Not to mention there's a short ditty he once did, which mildly summed up how I felt about my project at that point. Eli was in an especially pessimistic mood when he did this one, and just bare in mind that his budget has always been a consumer-level camcorder with some minor editing software:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvKQ43fXi94

But here's one that always makes me crack up:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHqbQ4Tcgm4

The Move:

Soon, expiring what time I had left on the trip, I reluctantly zig-zagged my way back towards So Cal, during which I experienced various dramas over the phone regarding my moving

situation. It turned out that, during the course of my trip, the pressure to move had now shifted from my aunt, to my cousin. Not only that, but the eviction turned out to be mostly her idea the whole time. This bewildered me (for some reason). I mean, everybody in my family knows that this specific cousin is nuts, but what had I done to her lately? other than problems we once had in our past, at the house? They were old conflicts that were bad at one time, but those were long since over, and I could have sworn we had been forming a close new friendship for years---somehow. At least, she acted that way. Silly me. So I called her to ask her about this and she acted very cold, repeating the motif that she was afraid of me. If that were the case, she definitely fooled me into thinking otherwise, for years, which turns out was the case.

Apparently, she had been holding a grudge from old conflicts the whole time, and was waiting for an opening to pounce and get some kind of revenge for them. I told her that this hurt, because I was trying to forget old abuses the same way that I thought she was. She wasn't. And

after I told her that what hurt the most was how, in the end, I was trying to forget the past and just love her, she coldly responded with "So what day are you going to be out by?" I definitely felt like the King Of Fools at that moment, but that's okay, because it's not the first time, or the worst time, I've been betrayed by someone. Also, it took this person showing her dishonesty for me to finally realize my own; I was living next to her for years in that house, and lying to myself about being content with it. It was a great house and work space, but I was never truly at peace sharing it with someone like her, whether or not I was trying to salvage our friendship. My cousin was, essentially, a cat lady, and sanity was a tricky thing in that environment. When I had first arrived at the house ten years ago, I was in a slump and a major life transition. My cousin and her house were supposed to be temporary, but things got worse before they got better. They did get much better, but I still managed to put myself in a trance trying hard to avoid having to relocate my entire studio. I didn't even realize how unhappy I was there, and for years this seriously effected my productivity, beyond my awareness.

So now, basically, I've moved out! :) My friend Darrin and my friend James helped me tramendously during this uneasy shift. Considering how nostalgic I get sometimes, the move was hard, and it forced me to look at huge chunks of my life that went long neglected, but just being able to look at them has allowed me the clarity and control required to start redeeming them, almost with ease. It's been a slow process over roughly a month and, somehow, the sensation that this was a blessing in disguise is overwhelming. It's so great to be away from oppressive vibes like that, and to be living among the living again. I am now renting out a killer office where my studio and my label are based, and it's part of a community of fellow film makers. Outside of

that, I'm basically living in three places at the moment: my father's house, because he's one of my best friends and has more room than he knows what to do with; Lisa's apartment, which I was practically living in already; and my friend and fellow musician Jim Goetch at his condo. Also, most likely, there will be many trips and travels I can take, for years to come, given the new mobility that technology allows with the "modern studio." It may sound funny, but it's the Gospel to me. I guess one can even say I now live EVERYWHERE, MAN. EVEN IN YOUR MIND, BRO.

But seriously, aside from a great new mobile life, I will definitely be spending most of my time buried with work in my new office/studio many months to come, so if you continue to have a hard time reaching me, that will probably be why. Pardon me in advance. ;)~

In light of all of this, I don't know if you remember, but I was actually scheduled to take one more trip this year so I can finish recording and shooting at the rest of my Southwest locations. Well, because of everything that's happened recently, I'm now a month and a half late for that. Big surprise. Although, I will be on my way practically the moment I finish these last few sentences.

I'll be gone for a month and will try to create a few rough/short blog entries while on the road. My first stop will be a week-long project I'll be doing on the Navaho Rez, where native flute player D'Von Charley and I will be taking off with some friends throughout Canyon De Chelly to produce the first full-length ambient music CD recorded throughout the canyon, from start to finish. This may even be some kind of separate short film when all

is said and done. We'll see. In the meantime, the priority will be the music.

Also, obviously I have not had time to edit or produce many video-clip segments from locations that I've done all year - spanning everywhere from the Southwest to the Sierras to the Cascade trip I just took. When I return from this next Southwest trip, hopefully I will find time to edit some of those, sooner than later, and post them online. Most of that footage is really great, and I know much of it won't make it to any big film or project, so the short films/segments will be key for that stuff to be seen at all. I'll keep you updated on their progress, from this trip into the future.

See you at the canyon rim,

Dean

Managing my Drive Through Storms

2010-08-31T04:53:00.001-07:00

At first, I arrived at Mt. Hood to find that I was a month too late to climb it safely; this was a month into rock-fall season, and I could see the very large bolder-skid tracks on Mt. Hood's main slope all the way from the Timberline Lodge. If a bolder had dislodged on that slope, and started heading towards me, jumping out of the way would mean sliding down the mountain right next to it. Never the less, I would have tried it anyway ;), except that the storm I had been hearing about then covered the top as I was climbing towards it.

So I waited out the storm at my friend Dave's, while catching up on Internet work, and apparently during my elation over working on two Internet jobs, I waited a day too long. Now I have one more day left - tomorrow - before a huge, week-long storm rolls in and covers the mountaintops with snow. There is something about multi-tasking that, regardless of "my super-human ability to concentrate," I don't seem to be getting. Perhaps, with a little luck and a Hell-of-a-lot more time sacrifice, I will get it before having to do all 4 remaining mountains as soon as climbing season roles around again next year. I just want to say that I hope the flack I get for this, from those I know, will be at a minimum. ,'-) I'm going to need even more strength then I did this year, as I am very behind schedule at this point.

Anyway, I'm off now to attempt the only mountain that is practically a guaranteed success this year---Mt. Adams.

Below are some really awesome comments that some of my friends and family left me after my last entry. They were moving enough that there was no way I was going to keep from sharing them. Really.

See you at the top!

Dean

P.S. Read the last entry if you find yourself somehow lost.

SUPPORTIVE COMMENTS FROM FRIENDS:

"Maybe the ultimate determination of whether you "succeeded" or "failed" is not going to be what peaks you scaled, but what musical results you came up with during this project...... and how this experience might positively affect subsequent musical efforts." -Jim Goetsch

"Don't worry about how your trip is going, or what others may think. Those who really believe in you will never question what you are doing!!! I personally am so jazzed about what you're doing. I get excited reading about it!!! I wish I were there with you!" -Fred B. Jones

"Your work is brilliant, however don't forget to look at it--musically or artistically." -Rene Ramirez

"Your work just can't stop to amaze me, Dean! It's always something new, smart and different! I am with you man, trust me! All the good luck!" -Branislav Gelevski

"I once played with a trio where we improvised some music about, as one audience member requested, "The Road Less Traveled". I believe that much of the emphasis of your project is to be inspired not only by the majesty of high places but also of the atmospheres present in an infinite number of places, places that would be considered "The Road Less Traveled". Many have the tendency to put their attention toward summit peaks, and not so much on the even more mysterious and fascinating places that lie in between the valleys and the peaks. When we went up Slate canyon, we were in one of those places between the valley and peaks. For this reason, I don't think it matters whether you made it to the top of Mt Rainier. Your project is also about "The Road Less Traveled". That means that an almost infinite number of places between the valleys and the peaks are fair game for work places. How many gold mines do you see at mountain summits?" -Nyle Steiner

"Please have faith in yourself and your passions, and your goals. They really are special and wonderful, and will translate to the world in incredible ways. I truly believe this will happen. It should happen. Actually, I think feeling constantly misunderstood is quite universal, so I really hope you don't take it too personally." -Lisa Claire

"You are making the Summit Music Project. The attempts at reaching the summit are all a big part of it. I/we as onlookers are fascinated with your every day details, friendships, environment, travels, thoughts, and feelings. That's what makes it a human experience. If everything went perfectly as you had wanted, it would probably not be as interesting to us. We share your lows, highs, and regroupings. Watching you create your Cambient music on Mt. Rainier is fascinating. I'm surprised it was so clear and out of wind range. There is humor in what you call failure. There is no failure. It's all a learning experience and change of venue. Will anxiously await your next blog and video about the four summits in the Volcanic Arch." -Dean's Mom

Sure, Failure Is Always An Option

2010-08-22T14:19:00.000-07:00

I headed out at night last Monday, and my whole drive north was a two-day speed marathon and frantic rush to gather rented and bought equipment. Even ended up at Wallmart in the middle of the night, which actually almost saved my project again.

But regardless, it turns out that I have indeed failed. I failed to reach the top of Mt. Rainier with my guided team.

I skipped climbing Mt. Hood first so that I could lock down the last of my equipment for Rainier, but apparently still lost way too much sleep in the process. Basically, after many months of training, I was still too out of shape to handle a mountain like Rainier with a mini music studio thrown into my pack, and with or without enough sleep. It was only ten or so extra pounds above the climbing equipment, but apparently made all the difference, and I'm even wondering if that would

have mattered, considering how much more worn I felt than the other team members by the

time we hit Camp Muir.

I might have been able to do the summit by leaving my laptop there, but that would have kind of defeated the idea of this project--to arrive at the top of a mountain, and while there, record and produce some music inspired by it.

And hiring someone to carry your stuff for you, or renting

yourself a chopper flight to the top to make EXTREME MUSIC up there would not cut it either.

This project is as much about the conquest as it is about the artistic principal. It is a complete concept, and executing it with

compromises would render it a totally different concept.

Even so, at least I'm not negative enough to give up and call it "destiny" or some BS like that.

Luckily, my life doesn't depend on whether or not I reach my goals right away, even though it

looks and feels as though it does.

There were some good aspects to this week's experience, aside from gaining new respect for Mt. Rainier and learning the total magnitude of what climbing it will entail.

I made some Cambient music (vocal ambient music) at Camp Muir, which is what I'm planning for every mountain top. During this session I learned that I was far less musically ready than I had thought. I will now practice extra hard for Mt. Hood so that the music won't totally bite, essentially. ;)

Also, I gained the support and curiosity of the RMI guides who headed the climb---Jake, Thomas and Eric. Jake, the team leader, was a very serious and passionate guide who busted my butt every step of the way, yet his deep understanding of my philosophy and his overall enthusiasm for the project have inspired me in ways I did not plan on. Among other people, I will be hearing his voice in my head during the coming months, helping to drive me forward.

Thomas and Eric were also very interested and inspirational figures. Thomas, having a mind for literature, made even the deepest sides of my intellect feel embraced and appreciated. I hope we continue to stay in touch in some way. And I hope I can find a way to re-approach Rainier with that same selection of guides next Summer.

Having to wait another year to try again is far more ominous than it looks; God knows what may happen by then, especially with everything else I'm trying to accomplish, and with my rapidly depleting resources. I would not even wait another year if I had the money to attempt Rainier again this season, but I will now have to raise it.

Suddenly, I no longer have blinders on about how finishing this project, and it's accompanying film, is far off on the horizon. This project is actually still in it's starting phase, and after everything I've done so far, that's hard for me to believe.

In all honesty, I am at a point in my life where finding support and understanding for my radical and seemingly fruitless idea(s) is growing scarce.

Many friends, and even my family now

find it hard to be patient with my absence and my ill-matched

neediness. From the outside, it just looks like I'm being my same old "selfish self," and I suppose that's not altogether untrue.

Unfortunately, in life, selfishness seems to be required to achieve one's goals and/or visions, or to simply make one's own dream come true. They never teach you that in children's books, or lecture you about it in Optimism 101.

Ultimately, I suppose the real question becomes, "Is completing my goal going to end up being something that serves a useful purpose to others, at all?" One would say "...if the answer is yes, then it must be a worthy goal," but considering how many great accomplishments throughout history have been achieved through pure self indulgence, and without any knowledge of the outcome, I'm not sure that that's an accurate evaluation method.

But I'm just using my blog as a therapeutic sounding board at this point. My rantings and inner-most thoughts will not change the fact that over the next couple of weeks, here in Washington, I will summit four mountains of the Cascade Volcanic Arch, unless something else randomly significant gets in the way.

Each summit will be a momentous achievement, and I will report them one by one. Right now I'm staying with my friend Dave (whom I climbed St. Helens with in 93) and his family in Tacoma. Good, old friends. Today I plan on returning my gear to a store in Portland, OR, and then driving to the Timberline Lodge where I will head out on the trail for Mt. Hood summit the next morning. I should be back in Tacoma a few days from now.

Also, I recently found a lot more info about Mt. Olympus then was made available before I left, and I'm realizing that I won't be able to climb that mountain either. It turns out to be a class 4 technical ice climb, and requires a partner, a team or vast experience. I don't have the money right now. When I learned of this, I researched the possibility of climbing Mt. Baker instead, but as I suspected, it's the second largest in the state to Rainier and thus demands the same requirements.

Sure, this is all mildly frustrating, but I'm continuing on with

those parts of the project that are within my control, and perhaps I'll be able to approach Baker or Olympus next year when I do Rainier. Whether I do or not, it may not make much of a difference. Olympus is not a panoramic view, and Baker is an extremely unpopular mountain. Perhaps these things should not detour me, but I have to consider the footage and the project principal.

Here is a short film of the Rainier attempt. I almost didn't post it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ipTM-xS5IM

Meantime, upwards.

Talk to you after Hood. And yes, I'm still excited about that.

Dean

P.S. Here is some of the music I've been listening to, and that I always bond with, deeply, in this part of the country:

Talk Talk

Sun Kill Moon

Radiohead

Tangerine Dream

Mark Isham

Ian Boddy

Loaded Coil

Jeff Pierce

Jon Hopkins

Ulrich Schnaus

Dntel

Cathrine Feeny

Even some:

Portishead

Lamb

Massive Attack

And have been discovering:

Helios

Album Leaf

Tycho

More soon...

Last Moments Of Sunlight

2010-08-13T19:55:00.000-07:00

Well,

I've been training for the Cascade Mountains all Summer, and the last moments of sunlight have finally arrived. My Summer window is ending, rapidly, so I'll be leaving for Washington state within a few hours.

Juggling my training with a collaboration between two web designers was lame, and has made me late, throwing off my itinerary, but I'll be dipped in boiling nuclear waste before I wait another year for this. (Ouch. umm... maybe not.) Luckily I'm in the best shape of my life, so climbing all 6 volcanoes before the Summer completely ends might still be doable.

They are:

Mt. Hood

Mt. Rainier

Mt. Adams

Mt. St. Helens

Mt. Olympus

Mt. Shasta

Still, I'm late enough that the thought of any kind of tight schedule has now been cast to the wind. I will do whatever I have to do to climb these things. Even been watching the Weather and Discovery channel to get more in the zone. ;)

I do have some other killer news though:

Last Sunday I trained by putting some extra weight in my pack and climbing a well-known CA mountain. At the top I made ambient music with a laptop and a guitar. (Sounds so American.) Check out the clip below to find out which mountain it was:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZcQlxzHQIk

I may have Lisa send photos of this to the Times. There were some other dudes up there (partying) as well, and they got footage, but have been having problems sending it online. They seemed to like what they heard.

I was hoping, over this last month, to fill in some journal entries and videos from the last Southwest trip so I could keep a record of what happened, but I lost time. Luckily, I don't think I'll be forgetting what happened any time soon, even if I was in a daze through most of it. ;) I will finish the Southwest post on here later (hopefully before the Southwest again in Fall), along with a great session I did earlier in the year at Mono Lake. Anyone who loves Mono Lake will dig that.

For now, I'm going to concentrate on Washington and Oregon, which is a far more involving and important venture. This will be a monumental accomplishment in my life, if I can pull it off.

I will post up short entries and at least a few photos for every mountain I climb. Going to attempt Mt. Hood first, this Monday. Already alerted musical friends in Portland. On the 17th, the day after Mt. Hood, I will join the team for Rainier and we'll start training for the summit on the 20th.

So, it looks as though I will not be posting another entry, or contacting anyone, before I reach the top of Rainier as well. This is it. If all goes well, my next post will be to show-and-tell the experience of those two summits--which is kind of my life's conquest, thus far.

And believe you, I shall "flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye."

Wish me luck, and I'll see you at the top.

Dean

P.S. And yeah, I promise to have plenty of fun with this also.

"Ambient Travels" And Putting The Southwest On A Shelf

2010-06-01T13:45:00.000-07:00

(Excuse any spelling errors.)

Hello everyone!

So, you are now reading what could possibly be my last current blog entry, ever. :( ;) I'm realizing that, as much as I try, I just can't seem to keep a decent blog while traveling. If you know me, you know that I rarely half-ass creative endeavors---at least the parts of them that I am conscious of controlling. I see my blogs and websites the same way. They are not some note pad for me to scribble and dribble on. They are something I create for people to look at, and are something I use to communicate what I am experiencing. Yeah... call me weird.

Anyway, this has been nearly impossible for me to do during trips, as they usually have a time-sensitive, and packed itinerary, and now with an involving music project to boot. In return, attempting to do the impossible by working on the blog everywhere I stop has been taking time out of that schedule and thus complicating it, changing it, and generally holding up the project. I'm not afraid to say this so that others may learn from my mistakes, but--I have failed to finish my project because I was bothering with my blog. And, I've failed to keep a good blog, too. VICTORY IS MINE!

Don't get me wrong, I'm well aware that most of this was due to my extremely involving video entries, so that will definitely

cease as something I do during trips. But knowing my perfectionistic nature when it comes to anything I post, it probably won't make sense for me to even enter text and photos during trips anymore either. It's just too risky.

With this in mind, I would like to start using these blogs for another novel concept that's really cool. I know the "blog craze" is based only on what's current and what's now-now-NOW with people, but there is far more potential for these pages then most realize. They can be used as a powerful outlet for memoir entries, and should be, at least until there is some kind of "memoir page craze," which I could use right about now.

So if I can't use blogs as a journal during projects that are this important to me, then I will most def be using them as detailed memoirs and/or records. Fo sho! My only hope/wish is that, before these blogs become something for more than just friends, you all keep reading it even though the entries will be past tenths. I may even end up writing and entering one in your living room, but I would still want you to check it out as though I were writing on location. This is the essence of a memoir, transporting the reader to another moment and place.

Also, I know I will have a fair amount of literature about this project on the web sooner or later anyway. Just remember, any literature about this project made available in the future will likely incorporate much of what's on these blogs, as well.

THE TITLE:

Something that I recently realized probably needs my attention, is that this project needs it's own name. I can't keep attaching it to the Summit Music Project as though it's the same thing. They are more different than they are the same. The Summit Music Project is the act of climbing high, established mountain peaks and making music at the top. That is a very specific thing, and once at the top, one can only make music in a specific spot. The rest of the overall project--like what I'm doing right now in the Southwest--is more of a broad and general concept: the act of visiting locations, possibly around the world, just to make music there. I'm in deserts now, but I just as well could find myself doing this at locations in cities, temples, caves, boats, trains, planes and automobiles. So, as you can see, it's a different project, or at least a branch of the same one. [And for anyone who wonders why I would want to do that: again, this project is an impressionistic experiment. The music is a collaboration between the musician and the surrounding environment, because if the musician were not at that spot/location, then that musician would probably make a different type of song.]

But I'm only calling the overall project what it is, I'm not trying to take anything away from the spirit and essence of the nature-based project I'm working on right now. That remains in tact. The title is just for a more all-encompassing categorization.

So, for now I'm just referring to this project as Ambient Travels, being as ambient music seems to be the only kind of music that is easy enough to start and finish, professionally, within a few hours of computer-battery life. It is also my preferred form of expression for natural settings.

I may change this title before I go public with the project, but there's no rush. I also didn't mind the title Scenic Stages, and might use it instead; or perhaps I will call the overall project Scenic Sessions and have branches of it such as Ambient Travels and The Summit Music Project. Mostly, to be totally honest, of the 15 some-odd title candidates that me and others came up with, nothing has fully described what this project really is. So, if you have any ideas for titles, please let me know, even though I should warn you that my standards are pretty steep, regardless of the title I've settled on. (And jokes won't be considered ,'-)

Another thing that my good friend Loren Nerell reminded me of

was that there is no rush in making this project presentable to the world

yet.

I have no sponsorship for this and no external deadline to meet, so while I'm working on other, more pressing things, I will be devising just how I want to go public with this. It's presentation may not change much, but still, there's no need for that pressure right now. Sure, I've already started giving it a little publicity already, but not a lot. Eventually this project will get as much priority as every other Fateless endeavor I promote, if not more.

ENTRY:

So, onto the rest of my current blog entry:

I plan on being back home, in LA, in roughly a week and a half.

I'm in Moab, Utah, right now. I've made a lot of progress on this trip/project but unfortunately I will have to head back home

before I can hit most of the main locations: The Grand Canyon, Arches National Park, Bryce Canyon, Zion Canyon, Capital Reef, and the Escalantes. (And I've had to put off meeting my friend John in Yosemite, for 2 months.)

But that's okay. One way or another I am determined to get back here by early Fall to finish the job. Turning this part of the Southwest into a separate trip will help to air this whole thing out anyway; it's a bit concentrated as it is.

And I will have to take that trip after I've finished the Washington State portion of this project, in August.

My reasons for heading home I'll have to share with you

individually. They are a little too personal to be posting on the web.

Also, I will try two more locations on the way back home, Antelope Canyon and Meteor Crater.

It has taken me over two weeks to make this last video, mainly because after I realized that I wasn't going to have time to create a video per location, I began a montage of all locations up to that point. This turned out to be--not much easier. Also, "that point" was basically a month ago, so I've done a lot more ever since the spot where this video leaves off. Plus, of course, half of it got done in my car in the middle of BF desert while hitting the other locations, which didn't help it's production along either. But it's done and I'm happy with it. You can check it out at the bottom after you've cleaned your plate and finished reading. ,'-)

You will have to excuse me if writing these long-winded-yet-sane passages on here is making me feel better. It's almost an exorcize in something. It's reminding me that I'm still coherent and haven't lost my mind yet. The frustration and spirit-breaking amount of perfectly-timed obstacles I've experienced on this trip lead me to such emotional acts as striking my equipment, flipping off small town folk (driving), screaming at the sky, screaming at God (whether or not there is one), and generally not taking care of myself. It became outrageous when I think about it. But what can I do? My heart is for both perfection and intricacy, and they are a bad combination.

But there is no way I could live with making this sound like it was all bad. No way. There were some truly miraculous and

expansive (literally) moments out there, and some really interesting and heartfelt music that was created within hours, sometimes minutes. The highlight of my trip might have been driving to Provo, Utah, to meet up with Nyle Steiner--inventor of the EWI--where we then recorded live, cinematic, ambient music in the mountains near his home.

But I don't know. I sure met up and performed with some excellent artists out there, including my brother Brian, when we recorded at Lake Tahoe, and Native-flute player D'Von Charley at Canyon De Chelly. And some of the artistic things that transpired on the Navaho rez... I just can't ever describe.

Of course, seeing my mother graduate probably takes the grand prize here.

:-)

It was awesome. And someone graduating, radiantly, at 71 is not something you see every day. (Take that, mom!)

These are all great things for me to remember at this moment. I can use the cheering up.

ONWARD:

I have been on the road, living in my car for logistically two months now, and have been away from home for over three. I know... kind of crazy and definitely not planned. There were many conditions and delays on the road after I finally left the Phoenix area, where I had been hovering for over a month.

I had actually started a detailed list of what happened at each location just now, but then I realized that the whole reason I went through all of this trouble to video tape the project was so that I would be able to chop it into a story later. This is relieving. ,'-) I don't have to write all day now.

And no matter how much more poetic, conceptual and descriptive the medium of writing is, film still makes things more real and official than writing does. All medias are give and take.

As originally planned, I will later make a short film for each location I've recorded at. Perhaps a documentary will be made about all of my Southwest excursions, but more likely they will be to feed a bigger, separate project, so I will probably create a website just for Ambient Travels (permanent title TBA).

BTW:

Someone recently asked me how I manage to find the time and money to do this. To answer this, I have two sets of three words each: "save up money," and "live in poverty." Explanation: when I say that what I am doing is hard---I seriously mean it. (Aside from the creative task.) I would say that, if you're based in a town as far as LA, it takes saving up about a minimum of 3 to 5 hundred dollars for gas, cheap food and video tapes (or hard disks), and then living in your car for weeks on end in natural settings without showering until you find a river. The funny thing is--I'm being dead serious. ,'-)

Even so, if one's heart is totally in it, then something like this is

obviously doable.

And what's left of the taken measures I would be happy to explain to you in more detail, if you are someone I know.

In the meantime, I hope that that answers any questions anyone might have had about it.

THE ROUT:

For now, I'll just give you a quick run-through of the rout I took.

After leaving Phoenix I went up central AZ rout 17 and then cut across to Chinle and the Navaho Nation. From there I headed as far north as Valley of the Gods before cutting down through the Hopi Rez to Tuba City and back to Flagstaff. By then, and just before I could get a chance to do the Grand Canyon, it was time for me to drive to Reno, Nevada, so I could make it to my mother's college graduation (something that obviously couldn't wait). After cutting across Nevada and seeing her graduate (hours after arriving), I hung out with her and my brother, edited video, and composed at locations near there for over a week. After that I headed back to the Southwest, crossing Nevada on the 80 and seeing the Salt Lake Desert for the first time before arriving at Nyle's house in Provo, Utah. After a couple of days with him I went strait to Moab, a town situated at the heart of canyon country. I've been here ever since.

Yep, this was a far cry from my original rout, but it goes to show that even when you have something written down and calculated, "The best laid plans..."

But also, it's always wild doing something like going from the freezing could snows of Tahoe to the dry heat of the basin desert and Moab on the verge of Summer, within a day or two.

There is obviously plenty still not yet told about this story, so I will let my latest and last video explain some of it. Enjoy! It took me a month and several locations to finish.

I have one last thought in an attempt to feel much better about this whole thing: if I'm not making any kind of "external" world history with this project, I'm definitely making some significant personal history with it. :) Definitely.

Talk soon!

More below...

TO SEE A LARGER, BETTER QUALITY VERSION OF THE BELOW VIDEO, GO TO THIS LINK:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0mJBJhvYZCM

Before I continue:

I also wanted to acknowledge a few more music discoveries on the road that were memorable (cinematic material, and some electro, that goes well with desert travel):

RE-DISCOVERED CDs:

"Triptych" - Ian Boddy, Markus Reuter & Nigel Mullaney

"Amber" & "Tri Repetae" - Autechre

"The Zen Kiss" - Sheila Chandra

"The City" - Vangelis

"Context" - Thought Gild

"Spanners" & "Temple of Transparent Balls" - Black Dog (indescribable)

"Double Figure" - Plaid

"No Roots" - Faithless

"Lifeforms" - FSOL

"Point Of Arrival" - Loren Nerell

"Propagation" - Robert Rich

"Light Fantastic," "Structures from Silence," "Quiet Music" & "Life Sequence" - Steve Roach

"Song for the Americas" - Jonathan Alias

"Ambient Works Volume 1" - Aphex Twin

"Life is Full Of Possibilities" - Dntel

"Symetric" - Thomas Ronkin (intense for everywhere)

"Phaedra," "Firestarter" and "Force Majeure" - Tangerine Dream (and for any mountains/forests)

"The Lovely Sound Of Thunder" - Harold Bud

"M'Ocean" & "The Storm" - Michael Stearns

"Galaxies" - Kevin Braheny (great ambience but be careful of the cheesy-er tracks)

"Aqua Donna" - Vic Hennegan (everywhere)

"Places In Arizona" - Mr. Soon (and good in places other than AZ)

"Euphony 2" - a newer compilation I was on (great for other places as well)

"Ambient Time Travelers" - an old Cleopatra compilation I was on

"Indigo" - Patrick O'Hearn (mainly in the mountains/forests)

"Castalia" - Mark Isham (mainly in mountains/forests)

"On The Shores Of Heaven" - Jeff Pierce (and partly in mountains/forests)

"Mythic Dreamer" - R. Carlos Nakai (and great to mix into other things ;-)

Also, Voices of Kwan's second CD. I can't remember the name at the moment.

So I know I'm leaving some out but maybe I'll name them later. There is also more I will get to on the next trip, because there is more that I wanted to re-connect with yet didn't have time.

Also, I've been doing a lot of mixing on the road: I leave ITunes on random shuffle and then leave another program on over that (playing a drone-ish playlist) and then listen as I drive. Some very cool and coincidental moments emerge. So, I have to correct myself about something on the video; a girl was asking me if I also DJ during this trip, and I said "no." That's not exactly true. I make original music at a specific location, but as I drive I let experimental DJ sets record on my laptop. I've got some great ones to show for it.

NEWLY DISCOVERED ARTISTS:

Saul Stokes (really great)

Sleepy Town Manufacturer

Badloop (so brilliant)

Resonant Drift

Vir Unis

The Circular Ruins

Abfahrt Hinwil

Recue

Planet Bolex

There are at least five more that I can't think of. I remember the music, well, but not the names. Again, later...

ALSO, BEFORE I FORGET, BELOW IS A LINK TO MY CLIFF SESSION WITH D'VON CHARLEY AT CANYON DE CHELLY. IT WAS A GOOD PERFORMANCE AND YOU CAN CHECK OUT A SHORT CLIP OF IT AT:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZS4CdGF-KMg

All the best!

Dean

Phoenix to San Carlos - Friends, Deserts, Creative Decisions

2010-04-23T17:28:00.000-07:00

(FYI SIDE NOTE - those of you who were curious about my Mt. Shasta attempt in a previous entry: yes, that was a failed attempt to the summit. But, I am scheduled to climb it [completely] this August, along with Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Hood and with a team up Mt. Rainier. Now for the entry/update at hand...)

It's going on my fourth unplanned week in the vacinity of Phoenix, due mainly to bad internet

connections and the time spent on editing these video entries. I really am going to have to

start skipping them. Plus, juggling that, along with the process of communicating with web

designers and people at home helping me renovate my professional life, is just not an option at this point. I have also been doing a lot of helping of friends in troubled times, but considering that most of them were once there for me in my time of need, it's pretty much a no-brainer. And before I start ranting, unknowingly, I think I'll just run down what's happened since the last entry instead...

After visiting my good friend Doug Miles in a Phoenix hospital, for a brief operation he had, and then leaving Alma and Alexis, I went and visited Joe Jakub (Mr. Soon) for almost a week. That one was my fault. I enjoyed catching up with Joe so much that I just stayed and stayed.

After prying myself away from him, I stuck to my original plan and visited Doug at his house in San Carlos, where he was recovering from a few things. San Carlos is about 70 miles East of Phoenix and is right next to the town of Globe. We enjoyed that but we were both concentrating on our individual delema's at that point, so it wasn't the usual "let's-get-buck-wild-and-take-a-road-trip-to-Santa-Fe" visit there. I stayed long enough to record a live session at the Upper Salt River and at Coolidge Dam in San Carlos Lake.

If you look at the videos you can see both sessions. Compared to other sessions thus far, they were flawless and the music was sweet, deep and appropriate for these areas.

Both of those sessions were supposed to be a couple of brief, extra locations I fit on the side of the main location in that area: the lower Salt River Canyon, which is like a next-size-down Grand Canyon in Southern Arizona (The Grand Canyon being in Northern Arizona). The first day I tried to make it to Salt River Canyon to record, I got there at night. I worked on instruments for a song there and then stopped before driving back to Globe the next morning. I figured it was time to get to work without being a burden to households, or being distracted by them.

Well, after then spending 3 days in a Globe coffee house to edit the previous footage, and another two days there moving around to try and get a decent wireless connection that could handle uploads (and living in my car the whole time so I can afford all of this), I finally left Globe failed and pissed.

But taking it back a little: before leaving, I went back to Salt River Canyon again, where I was again late. I continued working on what was now two songs there, during twilight: one ambient instrumental piece and one trip hop-esque piece with vocals (homage to how much of that stuff Doug and I used to listen to driving through there on our way to Santa Fe).

I recorded the vocals during twilight and then the next morning I finished the ambient piece. Due to all of the complications combined, I think the 'trip hoppy' piece came out better and more raw, but the ambient piece did have a somewhat "chasmic" sound that felt good to make as I was hovering over the overlook of a canyon that was a couple thousand feet deep. I then left Salt River Canyon and stopped off at a small, unpopular canyon/wash along the highway outside of Globe that I call Teaser Canyon; it has some running water through it, like an oasis, and I hiked a short way up it to stop and make some very dry and intimate ambient music. I then left the area of Globe in pretty much total frustration, aside from the little good I experienced.

I was never the kind of person to be angered by small towns and remote countries until I joined the present-day internet revolution by trying to keep blogs current on my trips. I've always known how slow things get when you leave the city, but for some reason I didn't think this would be a problem. Of course, it's probably just as much the fault of our state-of-the-art as it is small towns.

It turns out that, when it comes to wireless, we are still pretty much in the stone age. I suppose we still have a ways to go before we overcome piracy to the point where signal-tap systems can be developed as a universal technology? I don't know much about that. But I do know that small towns are practically servivalist when it comes to wireless signals ("Get off 'o' my property!!"). Even so, I suppose I would/will be, too, whenever I retire there. ,'-)

So I basically came back to Joe's, where I was embraced again, and am here now, writing. I am having such a great time with Joe and his roommate Fabio that I can easily see being more irresponsible and staying indefinitely (we want to publish a cookbook about how to cook certain celebrities)--but now... ,'-( I have to go. I am over three weeks late, late enough that I no longer will be able to go back to LA before heading to Reno for my Mom's graduation. I will have to drive there from Provo, Utah now. My mother's graduation probably only happens once, and at her age, I see no other achievement quite like it in my life at present.

So, due to this change, my whole rout has changed. I will now be zig-zagging directly north, instead of up and down, the way I had originally planned. Below you can see my old rout marked off on a map. I will be covering almost the same territory now, but in a different order.

Plus, I have locations that I was planning on filming music at in the Reno area, so this music-making trip will no longer be separate from the next one. This will be a Canyon Country/Basin Desert/Sierra's trip, and I will not return to LA until late May----lots of living in my car to look forward to...

(GOD. Showers are nice!)

But I don't want to make this all sound negative. There are obviously many moments of serious magic, and among other things, I feel very thankful to be hiking around here during a season when everything is in bloom and, despite the intense heat, the land is extremely lush with life.

TO SEE THE BELOW VIDEO EXTENDED, AND WITH A BETTER QUALITY, GO HERE (SOUND IS LOW. HAVE TO TURN IT UP):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=793WENLv8to

SMP Phase 2 - "Friends and the Upper Salt"

As I said before, I will have to stop doing great edits of these video entries in order to be able to succeed in finishing the trip, so one of these videos is edited and the other is not. The first one is, and the second one isn't. You will notice them like night and day, and unfortunately, the day (the one that is not edited) is a taste of the videos I will be posting from now on. Again, I appologize for that, but hopefully the magic and novelty of these places I'm visiting will fill in for any lack of production.

The first film was of the Upper Salt session, this one is for the Coolidge Dam Session. The next entry will include the video of my Salt River Canyon session, the up-coming Weaver's Needle, and Sedona.

Also, I will soon include links to the Native American charity that this project will be aligning with. Stay posted for that.

There is a little more text after this video...

TO SEE THE BELOW VIDEO EXTENDED, AND IN A BETTER QUALITY, GO HERE:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mN9r8nr2IYQ

SMP Phase 3 - "Coolidge Dam Session"

And I want to list some desert-associated music discoveries on my trip so far:

Older albums I've been re-discovering:

Daryll Dobson - "The Mind Electric"

Kit Watkins - "Labyrinth" (beyond brilliant)

A Produce - "White Sands" and "Land of a Thousand Trances"

From Here To Tranquility (compilation)

Autechre - "Incanabula"

Thomas Ronkin - "Within/Distance"

Newer albums I've been RE-discovering:

Anthony Wakman and Mr. Soon - "Points of Origin"

Steve Roach - "The Lost Pieces"

Robert Rich - "Electric Ladder"

NEW ARTISTS I'VE BEEN DISCOVERING:

Little Dragon (so great)

Badloop

Saul Stokes (never gave him a try until now - amazing artist)

Lusine

Kettel

Phoenix and The Lost Dutchman

2010-04-15T21:59:00.000-07:00

My first 2 weeks of the trip were spent here in Phoenix, Arizona. Tomorrow I hit the road again.

Excuse this delayed entry. I have been doing nonstop things like visiting friends and doing charity work, of sorts, and all while trying to finish a decent edit of my video blog. I'm letting you all know right now that I think I'm going to have to cancel the great editing jobs on these video entries. They just take WAY too much time to do and I'm supposed to be concentrating on the destinations. From now on I will post very rough videos, and I apologize if I have spoiled anyone with these present ones.

The charity work? Lol, well, I have been mentoring people who desire to be musicians. Some of these are ex-musicians and some are not. Some I know and some are fresh acquaintances. On that note, obviously if you are a friend of mine, never hesitate to ask me for help with anything creative or music related. If I have the time I'm usually game for it.

So I first arrived here to my life-long friends Alexis and Alma, in the town of Mesa on Easter Sunday. They are mother and son. The day I arrived, it was too late to comfortably record, so we all just went for a day hike at the Superstition Mts. While there I realized that the foot of the main mountain, The Lost Dutchman, would be a good enough location for our first recording session.

Two days later, we went back to a similar hiking spot and recorded. It was an interesting session for something so on-the-fly. I had taught Alexis some of the basics of my software. He has had an amazing musical talent ever since we were in Jr. High together.

During our session at the Lost Dutchman, Alexis was able to play chords and do fairly decent cross-fading of rhythms while I played flute, but even though he was new to this form of music, his talents extend far past it, as do mine (as addicted as I am). Alma took pictures and footage during the session. It was a beautiful feeling, doing that with them there. Alexis and I could have gone deeper into the mountains for this session, but it was important for me to have Alma's presence and her creative knack.

After leaving them, a week later, I joined up with my good friend and colleague, Joe Jakub (known as recording artist Mr. Soon). I've been at Joe's for almost a week as well, in his awesome, eclectic-minimalist apartment in northern Phoenix. Joe and I relate about a great many artistic 'issues,' and I'm sad to have to leave, but I'm scheduled to hike to Weaver's Needle in the Superstition Mts. tomorrow before continuing on my trip.

From there I will drive to the San Carlos Appache Rez where I always visit my good friend Doug miles, and I'll record the singing voice of his daughter Grace (possibly). I saw Doug here in Phoenix almost a week ago, but that's a story for the next entry.

Also, a mention: Joe and I were talking about this project and he made me realize that since I've done projects in the past that tie into a charity, I should make this project the same. When I tie into charities in this country it is always for Native causes, so thus it will be again. I will use World Book Aid as a conduit and will start providing that link after Lisa and I situate the program a little better. We will be juggling that with another program we are in the middle of.

Meantime, here's the video for the session with Alexis and Alma.

Notice: try to bare in mind that these videos are for the purpose of showing some friends and fans the project, and keeping a record of it. They are not meant to be serious cinematic achievements of any kind. You can continue offering suggestions if you like, but the software I am using on the road is very limited, and thus what you are seeing is the result of it's maxed-out capabilities. I know---that's limited, but it still does the trick and makes for some webisodes the people seem to be responding positively to. But I'll fix that... ,'-)

To see this video as a better quality:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SF9ScEJ2G8E

To see an extended version of this video that is funny and basically ridiculous:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VpxA5Q2Hzis

Dean De Benedictis

VIDEO OF LOST DUTCHMAN SESSION