A DAS Ramble of Sorts

One thing that has come out of these various Digital Audio classes, is an unwavering ability to confuse the Apple techies stationed at London's Best Buy. I know it's probably not what my teacher had in mind when he started teaching the course, but I don't think he expects any less of me.

However, in spite of my unerring ability to screw myself over ad naseaum, I do have some sense of self- preservation and so, I know when my attention is required in classes...generally.

I've recently been down to the school's recording studio…Notes and visuals in class do little to teach you how to actually use the equipment or set up a talk-back mic, which I have attempted to do on several occasions, and succeeded only thrice.

Then there is the audio. Something that I am constantly worrying about, is my lack of musical talent.

“Hello and welcome to the audio and music-based recording class! Go record yourself playing music!!” :)

Crud.

Question:

How do you mic a tissue box guitar?

Because honestly, that is the only thing I can ever hope to play with the amount of musical ability that I possess.

Being deaf in one ear doesn't help very much either.

“Today we're panning audio!”

I guess if I don't hear it in my left than it's panned hard right. You cannot imagine the breakdowns I went through when we did soundscapes. D:

Hmm…

Let’s take a slight detour for a moment, and learn yet another thing about me.

If I’m not interested, and see no point in listening, I usually don’t. Something my younger brother and I have in common, I guess. But I realized something today when I left that abnormally freezing classroom and lesson of advanced stereo mic’ing behind, I’m actually learning. And, I’m learning because I’m listening, and I’m listening because I’m interested.

I guess my point is that, despite me finding this class difficult, I’m still in it, even though I’m constantly failing to do something properly, I’m still trying, and I’m doing it because, well…I guess I like the challenge.

Honestly, I’m never going to work in a recording studio or be a professional in this field, but I get my own small satisfaction when my teacher says something and I actually understand it, or when I manage to finish a half-decent project in ProTools. I have a passion for editing and recording, that’s why I’m so involved in film. And a lot of aspects in audio recording walk hand-in-hand with film production, so that’s probably why I’m so into it at the moment.

I’m also in a video editing class this semester, but it’s a bit of a drag due to the fact that there are no set projects, no rubrics, and I don’t think my teacher knows what he’s doing. There’s structure in my Digital Audio Studies class but there’s still that creative freedom that I love. I don’t know, I guess I just appreciate it. It’s about time there was structure somewhere in my life, haha.

Rambling over.

Conclusion: Dedicated teachers make dedicated students J

-MegaTron Out.

3 Times MegaTron Fell Down The Stairs...And The One Time She Didn't. Part 2

If there is one unnecessary fact you shouldn’t know about my house, it’s that it never has any cordless phones with a charge. They’re all dead, always, all the time. All five of them. Their docks are in five different rooms in my house, but ninety percent of the time, the phones themselves occupy my younger sister’s room, scattered amidst makeup, clothes and a frightening amount of stuffed animals. Impossible to find really, and very frustrating, especially when the phone is ringing.

-------Number 2--------

It was a Saturday evening and I was in the basement getting ready to go to work. The phone rang. At first, I hesitated, waiting for the second ring to confirm that I’d heard it. Then, I was running. (Now, I don’t know how I always find myself in instances where running indoors in necessary, but it seems to happen to me a lot.) So, I was running, and having a hard time of it due to the lack of grip my socks had on the hardwood floor. The phone downstairs was missing, so I turned and flailed with a severe lack of balance, around the corner. I was halfway up the stairs (also hardwood) when it happened.

My foot slipped and..

BANG! SMASH! THUNK! Ow…

Now I hadn’t fallen down the stairs per se, but I’d fallen forwards, landing on my stomach and sliding backwards to the bottom of the staircase via my front. My feet touched the ground gently, (I had lost a fair bit of momentum by this point) and I stumbled to a standing position. My knees ached from hitting 12 wooden steps repeatedly with a decent amount of force, and I’d managed to cut my hand somehow. The phone continued ringing so I hurried back up the stairs (at a slightly slower pace) and grabbed the first phone I saw. Dead. I ran into the living room. No phone. I threw open my Mom’s bedroom door. No phone. I hesitantly peeked into my sister’s room, and could have sworn something alive was shuffling about under the mountains of clothes and preteen mess. I closed the door without even attempting it. Finally, I found a living cordless phone in the mudroom. I picked it up, smiling at my small accomplishment and ability to come back quickly from yet another nasty spill down a set of stairs, made to push the talk button…

And the phone stopped ringing.

I proceeded to throw it very angrily at the couch, (I can’t break the only living phone) and stomp back down the stairs. Oblivious to the lesson I should have learned.

-MegaTron Out.

Writing Vs. Visual Arts

I don't like art. Sure, there is the brief joyous moment that you experience when you finish a painting that is particularly grand. But it doesn't last. Not really. Well, not in my opinion.

“Why then,” people ask me (when I complain about it), “do you draw and paint and create these things?” This statement is usually accompanied by a deadpan glare from me and a wild hand gesture towards whatever I had recently created from the speaker. I shrug. It is a subject I really don't care much for and a topic that is dull to discuss.

But, for those who (for reasons beyond me) are truly curious, here is my answer.

I am a writer. I love the English language. I love that you can take a word that means something, surround it with others and give it a completely different definition. I cherish that small rush you get when you know you've written something particularly amazing but then leave it, reading it again months later while trying not to bask in your own genius. I take note of sentences or brilliant similes in novels and poems that I read, sometimes rereading them three times before moving on. Sure, winning long jump or getting the high score on COD or whatever it is, is something to be proud of. But, leaning back in your seat knowing that you've just created something that no one else could have without your mindset, it feels remarkable.

However, how many people in today's world will sit down and enjoy reading a text? Who goes out and buys a book of poetry for the hell of it?

Exactly.

Art is a quick way to tell a story, to make a point, to share an idea. And it is a universal language. Anyone can look at a picture of an orange and know it's an orange, and you don't need to be literate to understand art. The only barrier is the person's mind. And really if you consider it, that is a common road block in many other aspects of life as well, so no big loss there.

I'll draw a picture, or paint, or CG not because I enjoy the process of it, or because I want to keep that particular visual forever. I create because I am a fan of self-expression. Writing and visual arts are not bound by creative laws and I can do whatever I want with either.

So, I guess I do like art. I enjoy looking at other people's creations, decoding their meaning and appreciating the work and thought put into them, I like the free expression, and how you can surround one colour by a multitude of other’s to portray a specific message. I guess, if you think about it, art is a form of writing, and writing is an art.

-MegaTron Out.

3 Times MegaTron Fell Down The Stairs...And The One Time She Didn't

AN: [The inspiration for this post is brought on by the classic ‘3 to 1’ writing prompt. If you haven’t ever come across this web-famous writing style have no fear, because I’m about to explain it. Basically, you write about 3 common instances where a similar event/thing occurred, and then one time it didn’t. (But this one time has to still relate to the other three). Confused? Yeah, I was too but hopefully you’ll understand when you’re done reading this.]

------NUMBER 1------

The first instance was Monday. It was a Day 1 at school and I thought it was a Day 2. What difference does that make? Well, it’s the difference between having a class, and not having a class, and I thought I didn’t have a class. But, my luck being how it is, I did, and it was Digital Audio Studies. This is a serious matter because if it was any of my other classes I could slip in quietly, avoiding a late slip in the process, in Digital Audio this is impossible and extremely dangerous for a plethora of reasons. (That I won’t list) So… The bell is about to ring, I’m on the opposite end of the school, I realize I DO have class, and if I get another late slip I have detention. (Not because I’m a delinquent or anything, I just tend to go to the wrong classes all the time, making me late for the one I need to be in).

And so…

I ran.

Full tilt down the hallway, which was a dangerous move on my part but it was a desperate time. I reached the stairs, at the top of the staircase was my class, almost home, I continued my sprint up the stairs, got 5 steps up and…

CRASH! BANG! TUMBLE! THUD! Ow…

I groaned from my new position sprawled on the last step of the staircase. My knees and arms were already bruising and I had bitten my tongue on the way down. I sat up slowly, happy my laptop had survived the fall due to it being clutched to my chest, (bones will heal, so save the electronics) and the bell rang. I groaned again, this time in frustration.

I took my time stumbling back up the stairs and paused for a second outside of the class to compose myself before entering. I shuffled to my seat thankful that my knees hurt less when I sat down; my teacher looked up from his Macbook Pro.

“Late slip.” He deadpanned.

Time to justify yourself MegaTron, “But I-“

“Late slip.” Deadpan.

I sighed, dropping my gaze (his was of course unwavering), and stood again,

“…Yes sir.”

And that was the first time this semester that I fell down the stairs. Memorable because of my failure and inability to keep track of my life, disappointing, because it was also the cause of my first detention of the year. Kind of humorous ‘cause I like to laugh at myself like that, and you should feel free to as well. ;)

Stay tuned for the remaining staircase stories.

Something I learned from this experience: My DAS teacher would win every staring contest. Ever.

-MegaTron Out.