d.J presents >> moon.light_

Why make only one mix when i can make two in twice the time? This is precisely my rational thinking. I had so much music archived from the last year that i couldn't just leave things with one mix (the star.light_ mix below). And so to close out 2015, I saved the best for last: moon.light_

An appropriate name, I thought, this work is more luminous, more inertial than its dusky, more bashful cousin, star.light_. moon.light_ is about marrying individual tracks -- formidable tracks, at that -- that simply belong together; indeed, I was playing matchmaker with my digital wands to fuse 120 minutes of disparate waveforms into one sonic amalgam. And I must say, I created a behemoth. This is by far my most accomplished mix/production. In fact, the final 20 minutes of this mix throttled my current abilities to the red line as I sought to fuse three, even four different tracks into one dopamine-depleting crescendo. And I think I pulled it off. I couldn't be happier with the final result.

I've been obsessed making these mixes lately, especially moon.light_ -- absolutely obsessed, even manic. I've been burning the midnight oil (or 2:00 AM petroleum-based candles in my case), losing sleep, and consternating about a specific frequency gate for a vocal line or a microsecond of syncopation for a proper overlay. I'm exhausted but there was so much release for me in making this (and thanks to a quiet, rather alone holiday season and an academia-based work schedule, I was able to get away with this). The energy in the final sequence is unapologetic. It's very "me," nicely translating all I have to say, reflecting an intensity that's built up in a swirl of confusing, yet still hopeful and aspiring emotion over the past year -- much like the swirl of aspiring tracks that were lying imprisoned in a "mix someday" iTunes folder. Working with the tracks in moon.light_, each unique and among my favorites from 2015, allowed me to make something whole from a scattered array of waveforms.

And so I am myself again. I am whole. I am the fused parts of many, a lattice of chemistry, biology, physics, ideas, and waveforms. There was real therapy in mixing these, especially since the dKOTA front has been quiet for me lately (something that I hope doesn't continue much longer). Creating music is an integral part of my identity. Whether a softly-strummed love song from my guitar or a digitized neurotransmitter assault from my computer, making music amalgamates the disparate noise of my human experience into a language that I can understand and speak fluently. I look forward to the conversations of 2016. // Enjoy_

[stream and DOWNLOAD links are below // album artwork is above]
click here >> free DOWNLOAD [the file is large so Google will warn about a scan, but i assure you: it's just a long MP3 file // all is safe and clean from my end!]

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a christmas carol

well, it's not a Christmas carol / thankfully / but the new songs continue to pile up and i thought i'd share a raw take for this Christmas eve (as in, this evening of Christmas Day) // it's been a lovely holiday of digitally-assisted gift exchanges-at-a-distance, a DRY bike ride, and now some candlelight demo recordings // all is peaceful_



Something From Nothing from dKOTA on Vimeo.

d.J presents >> star.light_

It's been over two years since I've made an electronic mix, and now, finally, I'm happy to present 96 minutes of my best-curated, crafted, and designed electron pulses that I've titled, star.light_. This is a mix unlike what I've done before: it's gritty; it's dark. And yet, it's still blissful in spots, like finding a silver dollar half-buried in the refuse of a city curbside. These are mostly tracks I've accumulated throughout 2015, right up to a track I discovered just last week (the antepenultimate track, and perhaps the eponymous kingpin of a "beautiful grit" sound). I decided to neglect some of the more aged tracks I've found since my last mix in 2013, focusing mostly on what's newer and fresh.

With star.light_ I delved into producing the tracks (albeit modestly) in addition to mixing them. I wanted to try and blend salient elements, whether a bass line, a piano, or a particular sonic aesthetic in ways that accentuated a continuous story that was being told. In order to do this, I had to get more involved in the tracks and actually change them. Sometimes this was simply because I wanted specific tracks to be married together despite them being in vastly different keys, rhythms, or complex syncopations. Doing so required some sonic surgery to weld the pieces into one.

Worth noting, I often encounter surprise when revealing my love for electronic music given the acoustic roots sound of my dKOTA project. I will always have a dear place for the singer-songwriter sound that defines my core. This is who I am and I intend to continue crafting such music. But I revere electronic music because it's the only genre pushing the edges of sounds into the sphere of "music;" it's the only modern genre that captures an uninterrupted hypnosis for over an hour to tell a story; it's the only genre that I find capable of taking me on an intellectual and emotional ride; and it's the only genre that is created by artists for other artists (such as a lowly "DJ" playing around with Ableton Live in his spare time) to craft and reimagine in new ways. Indeed, these songs are actually produced and released with this purpose: to be recreated into the stories of other people's mixes. It's as though the visitors to an art gallery are given brushes and paint, and asked to reimagine the works on the walls into their own interpretation (something I've actually thought would be a great art show...). The final creation is something made by everyone, yet not made by any one; it is true kinship of collective artistry. Alas, electronic music is a whole greater than its sum.

Despite how all that comes across, I'm not to be taken too seriously with this. It's just a music mix I made for fun -- something I've done since I acquired my first tape deck in first grade. This is not a perfect, or even professional mix. But I'm also not a deejay or an electronic music producer. I'm simply a passionate person, and I write in passionate character. In the end, I get a great deal of satisfaction wielding the digital levers to commandeer sounds through my (fancy new!) computer, and I enjoy sharing the story I've created. And speaking of sharing, I should mention this mix was made on behalf of a beloved friend of mine, Christina. Her and I share a similar enthusiasm for this sort of music -- something that's rare (at least in America) -- and star.light_ was crafted with her in mind as she celebrates the inauguration of her 40th year of life. I hope this soundtrack captures the bliss among the textured grit we've all experienced over the years. Enjoy.

[stream and DOWNLOAD links are below // album artwork is above]

click here >> free DOWNLOAD [the file is large so GoogleDrive will probably ask twice before you download, but i assure you: it's just a long MP3 file // all is safe and clean from my end!]
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the welcoming hallows of an approaching winter

I went for a bicycle ride today. It was perhaps the only dry day this December, let alone dry day on a weekend. It was beautiful. I pedaled until my feet went numb. Literally. It was just cold enough for my feet to go numb after a couple hours of riding. This is something that happens to me easily. Oddly, the remaining portions of my body often keep warm, even hot and damp with sweat, yet my toes become lost with their own frigid agenda.

The image below is of Portland's newest bridge spanning the Willamette River, the "Tilikum Crossing". Tilikum is the Chinook word for "people". Being exclusively a pedestrian and public transit bridge, I suppose it's a fitting name.

Today was happiness. The sky was patched with weightless white clouds floating upon a liquid blue canvas -- deep and cold, just as the approaching solstice is requesting. Indeed, there was a struggle today between the light and the dark.

I rode about my miles listening to podcasts that investigated the mysteries of the human brain, the science (even mathematics) of love, and what it means to be "successful" (hint: it has nothing to do with a career). This is in stark contrast to my usual bike ride soundtrack: a euphoric electronic mix. Evidently today's soundtrack was not of music, but of conversation. Also in stark contrast to my usual rides, I took it easy, taking time for pictures and smiles instead of grunts and sweat. I was in search of warmth among cold, light among dark, smiles among tears.

Today, I was a ghost, sifting across 40 miles of Portland, Oregon -- untouched, unnoticed, and unhinged. I borrowed its fresh air, its narrowed two-wheeled pavement, its bashful beauty, and its hapless blemish of soggy roadside litter. Toes numb, mind afire, it was a day to be invisible. Untouched. Blissful as a ghost, I was guilty of spooking the halls without staying to haunt.

I borrowed from your light, dear Portland, please forgive me. But I captured you, like me, an amorphous spirit in disguise, a tender soul only truly spooked by your own reflection. Indeed, we are failed ghosts, only capable of haunting our own home. We scared no one today but each other. And we will scare no one tomorrow but ourselves.

of axons, hearts, and protein tyrosine phosphatase σ

My first publication as a postdoctoral researcher is now available (linked below). It's a small paper, but not bad for seven months of work. And it's in a good journal, so I'm happy.

Now on to the real show: grant writing for a long-term fellowship, due January 15th. This will be my holiday. 'Tis the season.

PDF >> HERE

PubMed link >> Johnsen D, et al. 2015

update: looks like i'll be going for an NRSA april deadline to allow for stronger prelim data -- all for the better // and perhaps a more relaxed holiday for me to make some new electronic mixes with my fancy new computer...

the pastel painter

i miss her so much. i hate being human sometimes. i just hate it. sometimes there's so much pain. perhaps i should have been a plant to grow tall and sway in the spring breeze, or a rock perched high above to watch sunsets for millennia while silly humans come and go with their religions and their wars, their violence and their feigned kindred. humans don't make sense to me. yet, i am one. and sometimes i hate it. i relate to stories i read where transgendered people feel trapped in the wrong body. i feel trapped in the wrong species. sometimes i don't want to be this. it's not who i am. i just don't relate to these creatures.

except for love. there, i relate all too well. why couldn't i just relate to tool use, or language, or social interaction? but alas i relate to love.

i miss her so much. i want surgery that removes whatever cancer is in my brain causing this love syndrome. it's always been so much hurt; it's always just "almost;" it's always an arrival ready for departure.

and so i've failed. i don't want to try again. can these humans live alone? i feel like i should know because i'm one of them. but i'm naive, and i'm alone. i don't want to care, but i do. i want to be immune -- unaffected by this pathogen. stoic. safe.

i learned recently she's doing exactly what i thought she needs to be doing. and that's so beautiful. i'm so proud of her. the strength she employed and the risks she took are admirable. she'll grow into something even more beautiful. and that makes me so happy. and yet, i'm so sad -- sad because of the finality. she's gone. that's the twisted irony: her happiness is my loneliness. indeed, that's selfish of me but it's how i feel nonetheless.

i want to be a rock, perched high above for no one to see, no one but the pastel painter hiding among the clouds, quietly painting his sunsets for the few humans that resign to look up. now there's an entity with whom i can relate. why couldn't i have been a pastel painter? instead, i am a loving human being.

please, make me immune.

the arrival

In perusing my hard drive for a long overdue cleanup initiated by a new computer purchase (also long overdue), I stumbled across this short video sequence I made a while back.

Every autumn I celebrate the arrival of the Pacific Northwest rains (at least in normal weather years, which have been increasingly erratic lately). In 2011, buoyant with insomnia and ennui, I was coaxed into a late night stroll with my now-deceased point-and-shoot camera by the flirt of the season's first mist. This is the result.

It's fun to note just how bad camera technology was only a few years back -- or conversely, just how far camera technology has come in only a few years. Nonetheless, I think it's a moody snapshot that captured a calm reserve and hesitant indifference of a late, timeless hour. The taxi sequence perhaps turned out the best.

PS: I sense a broader, less ego-centric post brewing on more important,  exigent global and political matters. But such posts deserve articulate time and attention, of which I hope to find despite a grant submission deadline Junuary 15th.

if you wait

And to find just one other

Seems to be the goal of everyone //

And if you wait, if you wait

I will trust in time that we will meet again

If you wait

>> hannah reid / london grammar_