I met Hunter Tura years ago at some conference, and I've always admired his work - and certainly the company/person he work(s)ed for ... Bruce Mau may still be in Chicago , but I'm sure he's a good mentor. I believe Hunter is now CEO & President @ BMD . A recent post finds Hunter "excited" to be part of the team who will design Hong Kong airport's new mega-terminal . Nice! Who IS Bruce Mau ? Many Canadians may well ask. Because, many Canadians do not realize that one of this world's finest designers is, in fact, Canadian. THAT's Bruce Mau . As to who Hunter is, well, he's the next rising star, and amply filling Bruce's shoes, it would seem. Good job all round, people, and keep it up - you make this Canadian very proud. If YOU want to feel equally proud, do follow the above links, and especially, gaze at BMD's work here . Extra!! I forgot; the reason I became interested in Bruce Mau was my stumbling on his brilliant ...
Music I wrote, recorded (all tracks), and published in 1997. It's from what people tell me is my "best" album (Storm Animal - an anagram of Martin Lomas). I disagree; my fave album is "Loose" (all electronic & algorithmic). But "Loved By A Queen" is a decent song that may well be resurrected for The Garden Distrikt, or even sold to a name musician/singer.
Another ad hoc post. Okay, I don't trust Google . At all. And I also believe them when they say that nothing malevolent is going on. Huh? Yup. Here's why ... To put it succinctly: Just the mere fact that Google is happily enabling us, digitally, to burst into pastures new (technologies unknown), is absolutely reckless. Google have either not thought this through, or something else. Think. "Think" is a necessary imperative, these days. The irony being, that in the end, there's no reason to think. At all. Sorry, but the closer to reality you get, the more surreal it is. That's how this all works. Please don't ask me what "this" is. I do not presume to know, yet. See? Even I don't know if I'll actually arrive anywhere. However, if the nature of "this" is indeed timeless and infinite, then we'd best get comfortable, nay? Or, as paraphrased by Elvis Costello: "Whats so funny 'bout peace, love and understanding?...
Again, some random bits from my journals ... (1) Untitled Poem I 've got to be stopped And I'm just the man for the job Been working on it for years Your guess as good as mine as to why I'm still here (2) Untitled Poem I dreamed the universe And it dreamed me I dream of you And how we came to be Reasons have I few Yet persistence in blue Of all the things I dream It's the one I do (3) Untitled Song Chorus B e still my beating heart The hope is too much, too much Be still my broken heart The loss is too much, too much (4) Fun With Anagrams M y name (Martin Lomas): not alarmism ant moralism moralist man immoral ants mailman sort i'm at normals mama nostril latino smarm i'm almost ran storm animal i'm atonal mrs inmost alarm mortal man is i'm sat normal oilman smart trim a salmon i'm salmon art i'm on art slam most in alarm alarm not sim its moral man .. etc My brother (Stephen Lomas): solemnest hap elephant moss pathle...
( Note: Be aware that the following was completely ad hoc, and as I write this sentence [in chunks], I am also editing this post in three other places, and creating two other new posts. I have an interesting brain. ) I'm going to take a big risk here. I am absolutely determined to reveal the truth about myself. When I put the truth on display to strangers, they are typically interested and engaged, and eventually, left behind. When do I the exact same with anyone that knows me, they almost always assume that I am merely having a mental health moment. I have indeed been diagnosed a couple of times in the past (different things), yet I always feel that I'm the sanest person in the room. The previous sentence isn't strictly true - I have met saner people. But those that know me are not saner people, that I know of. This bit may be more "radical honesty" than love. The truth is probably in my own words. Look - who am I to being "doing" anything to mysel...
Busy Being Everything changes all the time and Nothing changes ever Except my mind Which changes all the time and Never changes ever Martin's old apartment/studio in Little Jamaica
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