This was written by Terry Thomas of Spent Fixer about having a studio....I thought everyone should be able to read this. And leave a comment cause I know you have something to say about this...
Oh about having a little studio, yeah, you basically call a song "finished" when you can't bear to listen to it any longer! Of course, once you put it "out there," you start listening to it and loving it again! Yeah, these songs are our children, but near the finish, they are those horrible ugly and unruly teens that just won't turn out the way you want them too. But when you kick them out and they make their way into the world, you miss them and welcome them back into your life with an amazing amount of love . . . that you never knew you had the capacity to harbor. blah blah blah
When we were done jamming that Saturday night, Steve's dad picked him up and he went to his parents house. He did this a weekend or two a month to do work for them at their house(currently he was digging a drain pipe around the back of the house because the basement leaks.) Monday morning while driving to work (6:45 am) my phone rings.Steve in an elevated excited voice says "That fucker found me last night at my parents house!" He tells me of a vivid dream that was so real he questioned if it was a dream.He talked of yelling and threats saying that he (ghost) said "I'm going to get back into that house!" and "I don't know who the fuck Ron thinks he his but I'll get him too!" And with this I started shaking a bit. I was scared! Then Steve says"and then he showed me his demon face!!"....."you got to let him back in the house-- I can't live wondering where he will find me! If he is at the house at least he will stay there!" I reluctantly agreed. I arrived at work (I was helping another crew build a deck in a wildlife sanctuary over looking a pond.) People were doing small talk before getting started. I took a few steps away from everyone. Still settling down I let the sun hit me, and feel it's warmth. It was going to be a hot day.I closed my eyes and saw myself at Steve's house. I visualized the cage of light that i created and made it shatter like glass. Instantly I felt a chill go through my body more intense than any I have ever felt. And knew he was back. He went right through me to get back there. I called Steve and let him know.He asked for a ride home from his parents after my work day so I agreed. The ride to his place was quiet. We were both a little nervous.We got to his place and neither was in a hurry to get in. He had some gear to unload and I took his key and went in by myself. I stood in the middle of his apartment and talked. I said how I thought maybe he wanted out of there, go on to better things-- Hell-maybe be reborn and live a life again- Enjoy a cigarette. Well whatever. I walked back out and Steve was just walking in. He came out immediately and asked if i lit a match in there. I said no and went in and yes there was a sulfur smell. Like he was telling me that he can smoke.As I went to leave I walked by a tv and a plate jumped off of it as I passed. Steve left the next month but seemed to have developed a truce with the ghost during the last part of his stay.I avoided his place all together. He claimed that the ghost was afraid of me because I could influence his world more than he could influence ours.And that's why he left Steve alone. Even today when I drive by that house I wonder if anyone notices the book being moved. Or the salt and pepper shakers. Or any small insignificant objects. And I wonder if anyone will say to themselves that there is a ghost here--------and open the door.
"That damn carpet is crooked again, you need to come look at this!!"....I went to inspect. An eight penny nail has the head the size of a tic and is about two inches long. One nail was just as he nailed it. The other three had only a quarter inch in the floor and were completely laid to the floor until the head that was straight up still going through the carpet. They were shaped like a z. This was old carpet where the heads of these nails could have easily just pulled through.We yanked the nails and Steve set the carpet back at the sink crooked as he nervously chuckled. This made me feel a bit uneasy also. I could not stop thinking about this for the next couple days.I am not a genius but I've watched a ton of Nova's and other science shows.Everything (atoms) here bounces in and out of reality. Our three dimensions is a projection from a fourth dimension. Very simply put "nothing here is real- it's a trick of our senses" SO WHAT IS REALLY REAL HERE-----OUR THOUGHTS. They do everything. They create reality. And then I had an answer. I called Steve and asked if he wanted his carpet to stay straight. Then of course I went over.This time I took four short roofing nails about an inch long. I explained that my thoughts will hold the carpet down. As I tapped in the nails I visualized my spirit in the nail holding it in place. I believed this would work. And it did. This carpet incident was over.Things were quiet for a week. Then Steve started telling me that the "bastard" was starting to get into his dreams.Wake him up in the middle of the night. Then he would see a shadow moving around his room. It would make him so uneasy that he was starting to lose sleep.This is coming from someone that never believed in ghosts.As another week went by he avoided going to his place as much as possible. I really did not like hanging out there either. Early one morning before work I decided to meditate to help Steve. I visualized me at his house. Then in the center of his house I created a ball of light.I made it expand into bars to push the spirit out.I saw myself outside the house now and the beams of light were coming out and the were pushing him out.As I pushed him farther from the house I watched him frantically trying to get back through. Then something unexpected happened.It looked at me and showed it's demon face!! I came out of my meditation quickly and was frazzled but went on with my day. After work I told Steve what I did (excluding seeing the demon face) and he had the most restful week at his place.The bastard was gone,for now............. to be continued
If Steve V was a dog he would be a pit bull. Never have I seen him afraid or back down from a fight.He was - a bad ass.I say was because today is the anniversary of his death. (09).At two thirty in the morning-according to police- there was a minor accident ahead of him on the highway. He stopped to make sure people were alright then started getting debris out of the road. He was struck and died before arriving at hospital.It was a Hit and run that was never caught.( I think he would have wanted it that way).This story is in his memory. To save time writing and to understand Steve better (if you want) listen to the lyrics he made up spur of the moment on "I need redemption". If you want to understand him more try"Frostbitten by deceit" "steppin outside myself" "Hide away" "Mindless ramble" "afraid of the future"....... Steve was happy to move into his apartment that was walking distance to everything in town including my house- where we jam every Saturday night. The house sits on the main drag and has two apartments(top floor was being renovated). His door was off the side at an alley.You enter to a small tv room with dark paneling.A large room directly to left that he used as storage.Going forward led to the kitchen with bath to right and a bedroom to left.He did not really use the tv room. Mostly hung out in bedroom with the stereo. It was a big room with a big couch and some chairs. Over all the place was a little run down. The carpet in the kitchen was fraying around a poorly done seem and was flattened and nasty.We worked together at times (cleaning windows) and in an old parking lot Steve spots a discarded carpet and talked me into checking it out(I was driving my van). It was in better shape than his kitchen carpet so we took it and cut it into his kitchen. I could not believe it but it was way better.There was some carpet left over so Steve cut a rectangle to sit at the sink where he stands all the time. I was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and bedroom watching Steve oh so carefully place and center the carpet at the sink-then the music ended. Steve stood up , walked by me to the stereo to change tape.My body turned as he went by cause we were talking some shit as always. When the music starts and I look back into the kitchen the carpet in front of the sink was crooked. I laughed cause I saw how hard Steve messed with that piece making it straight. I said "you have a ghost here" He said no and tried to show me that when he stood up and walked he twisted it with his foot.All he proved was that it was not him. At this point and for the next few days it was amusing to hear him complain that his carpet wasn't straight. He grown tired of straightening the carpet so with some eight penny nails he put one in each corner........ He called me the next day freaking out...(to be continued) please leave comment
ten lifetimes couldn't fully experience this site!
be careful what you put in your brain.... almost impossible to delete