DJin

Ah, the fine art of djing. Practiced by myself, my roomate, the studio engineer, my business partner, hell even the owner of our studio, it's like one big inbred DJ party. Now that that's off my chest, the technics have officially moved into Branden's Room in The Dojo, aka my house, and while it has inspired me to move onto making beats (what I should be doing) rather than mixing strange funk (what I end up doing), at least I get to listen to the same three transitions 160,000 times a day from across the hall. But, as anyone who has ever lived with me should know, I'm even worse, what with practing violin (annoying), writing poems/lyrics (repetetive), or spending hours getting a snare to sound right (enough to make a person lose partial control of their medulla oblongata). Anyway, I took some shots, slow shutter speed to catch hand movements, and assorted filters.

Finished the Tzu Hef cover and back today, will post that soon, heading to Fate and PCL tonight for more party flicks, things are good.

J.