residence artists 2015 | haihatus

residence artists 2015 | haihatus



Soon I'll be listed up in this company!!!  February and March... along with all the other brilliant people... the arctic... the sauna... like Russia... I can't wait.... art w/ no distractions.  What an honor.  

View Our 3D Artwork | Disc Makers

View Our 3D Artwork | Disc Makers



I've finally, finally, finally, manufactured my physical CDs.  YAY.  Coming to Amoeba records, Amazon, CD Baby, and a WHOLE gang over to my guy Peter Holmstedt of Hemifran in Sweden :-)

Eventually.

Eventually no one cares.  Neither about your fiber, your DNA, nor your passions that burn in a language that only GOD SPEAKS.

And it's not their fault.  No, of course, it's yours.  And eventually, they've simply got to clarify that point.  In a language that only reeks of condescension.

You spend hours doing god-knows-what and you're a recluse and you don't send Christmas cards.  And you can see right through just about every charade because you have sight.  And you can hear things that aren't even emitting any frequencies at any amplitude because you've got sight.  And if you share these thoughts, these truths, that indeed are self-evident, with anyone but yourself-- well then, eventually-- you'll be mocked.  And you know their mockery is fear.

"You poor thing," they say, after inserting insidious jabs about what a terrible person, selfish and stupid, you are and have been.  "You poor thing," they say, "we all make mistakes.  And you can always count on me."

And it's transparent and wouldn't it be, to anyone?

It's just a green-eyed monster.

They'll say it, plainly, to drive it home, what fool you are-- how much you've disappointed them.  But shit, you're the one who feels disappointed.

By the WEAKNESS and the true BETRAYAL, of those who've claimed to understand. 

And you're sickened by it.

But it's lonely.  The ennobled trumpet behind your life is only heard by those few that live the way you do, with one foot, not planted firmly on anything, but en pointe in your ribbon shoes, the kind of for pros-- and the other drawing circles on the surface in ronde de jambe a terre until you lift it straight up into the air, along with your arm, and you reach up into the stratosphere, that, is how you live.

There are so very few who understand, who can relate, well enough at all, to remain satisfied.  Perhaps only those whose passions somewhat match your own.  The ones with whom you build, really build, dream-build, truly build, not just the verb from the Hallmark tautology- your collaborators, perhaps.  Or another beautiful girl who translates her emotions to gigantic murals.  The odd, the cursed the blessed the dabblers in magic.  And you know you are blessed for they are in your life.

And you can't convince, deceive, deliberately or not, that you are something wrong.  That Grandfather Sky skimped, that you are lower than your are.  The ennobled trumpet sounds for the nobles, and I am a Noble, in the Nietzschean sense.

And I won't, and simply don't fail to see the agendas and the questionable behavior caused by ego laceration.  And it you, who disappoints, in that your honesty ends where your resentment begins.  In order to maintain your positive face, you mustn't show it, that ugly sentiment that you know doesn't flatter.  And because I have touch, I can feel it.

And it feels like dried blood.

Zoiks! Online - The Very Best in Stand-Up And Music!: MUSIC NEWS: @NaamaKates Album Souled Out October 7, 2014

Zoiks! Online - The Very Best in Stand-Up And Music!: MUSIC NEWS: @NaamaKates Album Souled Out October 7, 2014

Entertain Me By Michael Shinafelt: Naama Kates Live @ Silverlake Lounge !

Entertain Me By Michael Shinafelt: Naama Kates Live @ Silverlake Lounge !: Chillin' Before The Show: Naama & Her Producer Cyrus Melchor Last night Naama Kates took the stage @ Sil...



I'll let Mr. Shinafelt do the talking for now... :-)

MAYBE SOMEDAY

PEOPLE WILL WANNA SEE ME PERFORM

JUST BECAUSE THEY DO

NOT BECAUSE THEY EXPECT ME TO HANG OUT WITH THEM BEFORE OR AFTER

NOT BECAUSE THEY CONSIDER IT A FAVOR THAT I MUST RETURN.

I"m on KCRW BITCHES.  MAYBE SOMEDAY WILL BE SOON.

For now, it's not the case.  No one gives a shit.  And that's A-OK.

I was on the radio last night.  On KCRW.  That's a very prestigious thing. 

See?  See my name?  I'm gonna listen tonight too.  We'll see what happens.

Zoiks! Online - The Very Best in Stand-Up And Music!: Music Review: Naama Kates’ ‘Souled’ - Releasing this Fall 2014

Zoiks! Online - The Very Best in Stand-Up And Music!: Music Review: Naama Kates’ ‘Souled’ - Releasing this Fall 2014

Entertain Me By Michael Shinafelt: Has Naama Kates Ever Been "Souled"?

Entertain Me By Michael Shinafelt: Has Naama Kates Ever Been "Souled"?: Once upon a time...  Singer/Songwriter/Actress Naama Kates had a chance meeting with Cyrus Melchor , an award-winning producer/composer...

Bum Scum

Gatorade, Haterade
Oh well I got it maderade
How can I get burnt
with all these bitches throwin' shaderade

She dont look rich enough
Not carrying a Gucci clutch
You all better call my bluff
Cuz I carry a hand grenade

Meter-maid, sprayed with Raid
Not even on my radar-gauge
I don't sweat the heat
During my own goddamn Parade-arade

You don't know who you're f*cking with
I seem to have this luck for good
It seems to be on lockdown good
NOW LISTEN TO MY SERENADE

Haterade, Gatorade, you don't have to like it mate
Mispronounce my name again and I won't even hesitate

Now that I'm Miss Thang
Now that I'm a zillionaire
Scan the credits for your name and oh,
Surprise! it's not there

Throw some shade, colored jade
Haterade, you meter maid
Shut up for one time uh huh
NOW LISTEN TO MY SERENADE

"Airplanes" by Naama Kates (Mount Cyanide Redux) OMV

Wait.  Just because, I'm at my third festival, with my ninth award, and I'm cranky from flying, but I'll have to soon to go record with an A-LIST (10 grammys, platinum records, songwriter of the year, etc) producer soon, and then to NYC to work on sound mix with the A-LIST company that's investing in my film, I FEEL like doing this.  Just listing all the people that have no respect, and think I'm a loser, and think I'm doing bullshit, and have been rude, dismissive, condescending, or even outright betraying me:

It's in code.

SC
QI
NN
OL
BL
(fwftz1 jo nz "gbjmz", obusbmmz)
BT


to be cont'd

Oh my god.  Both of you.  I know you probably think we're the same, me and your other girl.  I know you dropped me completely for a while.  I know you've never listened to my music and don't have any respect for the fact that I produced a film that's getting around and awards and possibly more.  I know I'm a loser, in your eyes.  But this year that's changed.  It's not all indie anymore.  Both film and record are going mainstream.  That's a lot into the zeitgeist.  And you know what I'm gonna do afterwards?  Drop your ass like a bad habit.  You don't respect me, Miss.  F that.

Mount Cyanide x Naama Kates x G.E. Stinson "BEAUTIFUL NIGHT"

Seriously

This one's overit
That one's not doin it
The other dropped the ball
Me, I'm just the asshole in the middle

And it's another gorgeous day, evening, a weekend even.  I've done all sorts of nonsense, errands, and nebulous works, for the last 8 hours, and I know I'll be spending it alone, inside, pathetic and sad. 

My friend is at the renaissance fair, I've just found it.  She went with her students as a field trip and they're heading back.  And it's 30 miles away.  But that sounds perfect right now.  I wanna go and be anonymous and play pretend.  I did a bit in Oklahoma but there was too much film biz and too little time....

But I got to watch their local high school's public access channel... They played the school production of "Beauty and the Beast" musical.  Amazing.

Irreconcilable...

Irreconcilable, irreparable, irrelevant, irrespective of intentions at the outset.  Out the onset. 

They don't mean to, they don't want to, they can't help it, they hate you.

They do. 

And there's nothing to ever be done about it.  Keep the Farewell Waltz at an arm's length, at all times. 

AIRPLANES, y'all.

I'm in Muskogee, Oklahoma, having fun, Wanging Chung.

Who placed this gag order on me.

Buzzword

When I'm sad, I swallow it down, without even water.

I realize there's less and ever less standing room on this overpopulated planet, so I'm being considerate-- I've been fading into the background gradually, and I'm almost completely out of sight.  I've realized that's where I belong, but I also know that I'll belong to the foreground, to the relevant, if that's where I choose to go.  But I'm not relevant.  Perhaps here in the shadows I can teach myself to contribute. 

Stargazing at the concrete:

Rolling with the punches.
Perpetually in slow motion.  Waiting for something to happen. 

On Blogging: Pitfalls and Piety

It's been a while since I blogged. Last time I blogged was, well, different, to say the least. It was under a pseudonym, and I told no one about it. Though I changed certain details to maintain my anonymity, it was nonfiction-- as candid, as honest, as true to me, as I'd ever been.  The anonymity was liberating.  And it had a lot of followers... because it was entertaining, because it was honest.

Then some people found it, somehow...

Actually, I had another blog after that... It was initially intended to be a sort of promotion for my film Chloe, wherein I was to write as the character, but, because the timing didn't work out, it sort of devolved into a regular personal rant-blog, and then a highly codified series of puzzles... Anyway.  This will be different.  I don't have any kind of cloak of anonymity; I have my name on it.  And if I've learned anything, I've learned about lurkers.

I've learned that I don't like lurking, neither to lurk nor to be the object of lurking.  I've learned about the two types of lurkers-- the distant/curious, and the close/paranoid.  The former group tend to be folks you don't really know-- either people you used to know but fell out of touch with, or people you've never met at all; these are folks looking for information.  The latter group is a paradox.  These are people you know well, even extremely well, and are in fairly regular contact with; these are folks with an agenda.  Now simply reading someone's blog out of interest, whether you've never met at all, or share a bed, is not lurking.  Being interested in the blogger's life or enjoying their writing is a wonderful thing.  So what exactly separates the wheat from the chaff?  What makes a lurker?

As defined here on this blog-- a lurker is someone who uses a blog, or a personal website, or Facebook (Facebook is comprised almost entirely of lurkers), etc, somewhat compulsively, to find "dirt" or "evidence" of perceived slights or conflicts, on the object of the lurker's fixation.  This is the real difference.  It's mostly bad news with a lurker.

So there's nothin' here for lurkers.  I imagine this will consist of a lot of boring, tedious hogwash (see above) to keep me busy and feeling understood during periods of artistic and social (read: figurative and literal) isolation.

It's a drag, being an agoraphobic exhibitionist.  I am a private person, plagued by the need to express, to the faceless masses, to feel connected, and, at the same time, extremely irritated by breaches of privacy... The truth is, most likely, nobody gives a goddamn.  HAH.

But this is necessary for my sanity right now.  I'm artistically sort of stuck-- waiting for production/post-production, etc.  And I'm socially sort of bizarre.  That's not new.  But it's different.  Anyway.

What a terrible first round of drivel.

Godspeed.

First off..

1.19.14 - Again, it's been a long nasty time. I should really write more often... Sometimes I feel like I can't write, like I shouldn't write, until I have accomplished something-- but that's sort of a catch-22. What will I ever accomplish if I don't write, share, or even acknowledge that, maybe I have accomplished things?? I have. I mean I really have. I just don't feel it sometimes. What is accomplishment and what do I want anyway?? What qualifies an accomplishment? Money? Accolades? Carnegie Hall? Platinum Records? I just want some respect. I've written my whole third record... finished writing it like six months ago. I've put up some of the new songs I think. I'm working with my producer from my first, The Unexamined Life. But we're going a totally different direction. Embracing electronica, it's all half the world listens to, so get with the times, girl. I have no idea when it will get done, but I guess that's just one of those things I have to learn to accept: unless you're producing yourself, your work ain't a number one priority. Fair trade-off, I suppose. I miss playing shows with my band, miss an audience, and I miss feedback. I'm also trying to move forward with my film, Chloe, and I'm extremely blessed to have gotten some amazing people on board. Between this new production team, and just the simple comment of an old friend of mine, who said recently that she'd watched it and loved it, I feel humbled and happy and less prone to fall into the rabbit-hole of that voice saying "NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR STUPID ART." So that's it for now, that, and a big thanks to those of you who continue to support this crazy pipedream. xo.