Donburi on iLike!

I was just googling myself one day (boy, that sounds dirty, doesn't it?) and ran across a hit on iLike. Much to my surpise there is a listing for Niko Donburi. That's pretty cool. Someone called Robbiet480 has, as of this date, listened to Second Life (That's Where I Want To Be) 20 times!

I am going to do some more digging into this Robbiet480 person who obviously has great taste!

Dear Linden, Dear Linden on Secondcast

The Secondcast 1 year anniversary show begins with Dear Linden, Dear Linden. It will be interesting to see what type of attention this will attract. Perhaps the SLCC2007 music selection folks will happen to listen to it and think, "damn, we've got to have this guy play as one of the chosen five..."

Gig: The Cafe

I had a great time performing at the Cafe in Barcelona last nite. If you have not seen that sim then you definitely need to stop by and check it out. It was also the first time I have played for an SL audience that had a significant number of non-English speakers. It certainly made following the chat a bit more difficult!

Thanks to the following for their contributions: Liam Serf, Jacobi Haskell, Tami Lyne, Zann Canto, Maximillian Desoto, Kent Diplomat, Sean Cinquetti, Flameheart Sol, Kelly Young , Lovely Encore , Eponymous Drake and the ever generous Circe Broom !

Gig: Artropolis

Niko Donburi plays Live at Artropolis 02, originally uploaded by Pathfinder Linden.

Here is Pathfinder over on the left. Is that a frog? Lizard? I'd best check his profile and see. If someone knows, put it in the comments... please!

Gig: Artropolis

Niko Donburi plays Live at Artropolis 03, originally uploaded by Pathfinder Linden.

I played the Artropolis Sim opening at the Mandel'Brats and Brew stage yesterday. Artropolis is the only artist colony in SL that supports all the arts: Art, Music, Poetry, and Theater. Esch Snoats did the building of the sim and it looks great. I think Filthy Fluno runs the place.

Before the gig I had a bit of trouble TPing into the sim as it was full. I thought I might end up ghost streaming the gig but fortunately someone got a Linden to lift the AV cap. Or perhaps someone else got booted out of SL and I happened to push the button at the right time!

A funny story: I was just getting into the set and half-way through Dear Linden, Dear Linden when Pathfinder Linden strolls in and stands right up by the stage. As best I could tell, his AV is an amphibian of some sorts. Then he hops up, only to get hit in the head by the ceiling fan. It was quite hilarious. I actually stopped playing and had to restart the song. Pathfinder has posted more photos he took over on Flickr so take a look....

Who is Niko Donburi anyway?

Hi.

Suffice to say if you've read this far, you must be interested in finding out more about me.

I'm basically a songwriter. A man, a guitar and a pen, as the saying goes.

Well, actually, I made that last bit up. There isn't such a saying. Or at least I don't think so. [Note to someone: please google that and let me know if there is.]

But, in essence, that is what I do. Think of some words, find some notes that fit (or vice versa) and then try and tell a story.

To me, the perfect song is one that you cannot stop thinking about.

Perhaps it has a catchy chorus that flutters in your head. Maybe it paints a story so vivid that you could swear that it was about you. Or maybe it simply causes you to press "play" one more time. These are the songs I try to write.

It would be a lie, of course, to tell you that every one of my songs is "perfect." In fact, I have a box full of cassette tapes, minidiscs and CD-ROMS as proof that most of my songs aren't. But I keep trying. And once in a while, sometimes once every couple of years, I'll get one right.

In RL I have spent many years living, traveling and playing music around the world. I have played clubs in Japan, restaurants in Indonesia and busked in the streets of London. I have studied songwriting formally at National Guitar Summer Workshops and informally by listening, listening, listening to music. Mostly, however, I have simply written songs. I'm realistic enough to realize that I'd never be able to make a living off of whatever songwriting talent I had, so I just write them because they need to be written.

These days I limit my performances to Second Life. It provides me with the opportunity to play my songs for people around the world without having to leave my home. I never enjoyed going to a coffee bar and trying to be heard over the espresso machine. Audience members rarely listened to the words, nor couldn't if they wanted to. Add to it my general reluctance to actually sing in front of people and you can see why performing in a virtual world would appeal to me.

Please check out some of the other links found on the main page. Feel free to IM me in-world or check out my SLProfile.

By the way, all songs posted here are:





This
work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 License.

I also compose ambient electronica under the name nikorasu. You can stream or download my CD "Music for Unseen Films" here and the soundtrack to my machinima collection, "Twisted Prim," should be up soon.

say something, anything

The word made its way slowly through the gossips and within a few days we all knew he had returned.

By then the crowds had begun filling the market street. His pilgrims were hot and dusty from their trek into Capernaum, and the sheer number of them made it difficult for me to keep an eye on any one of them. Marlev demanded I pay him extra to work into the afternoon, but I didn't put up much of a haggle. It was quite clear that even after paying him an additional shekel or two, I was still going to make quite a profit.

By midafternoon my stall was empty and I had closed for the day. Marlev got his pay and I took the rest to Eldorn the money changer for safekeeping. The pilgrims were everywhere, and the closer I got to home the more there were. The street was packed. People were standing shoulder to shoulder and I could barely get my way through. Children were perched on their father's shoulders to avoid harm else they might get trampled. They were a nuisance, dirty and I couldn't wait to get through them and into the safe and quiet of my home.

Across the way I saw Marlev fighting through the crowd, coming towards me. He began shouting my name and calling me over to him. His face was flushed and his clothes were dusty.

"We need your help," he shouted over the noise of the crowd.

I shook my head and waved him away. He fought the crowd and was able to get closer.

"No," he said. He paused for a moment to catch his breath. "You must help us with Shaphan. We've got to get him inside."

He turned and pointed to a doorway of a house just up the street. The doorway was open but I couldn't see into the building because of the people who were standing near the entrance. I could see that there was no way anyone, let alone Shaphan, was going to get in there.

I shook my head. "I've got things to do. Find someone else."

Before I could turn he grabbed my shoulder.

"This is important," he exclaimed. "He is inside, the one they are calling the Messiah. He can heal Shaphan."

I shrugged.

He reached in his pouch and pulled out the three coins I had paid him earlier. "Help me for this then." He put the coins in my hand. "It's all I have."

I hesitated for a moment then quickly pocketed the coins before he could change his mind. "Alright," I replied. "Where is he?"

Marlev turned and began pushing his way back through the crowd, crossing the street. I followed in his wake as best I could. He stopped near a pair of men who were standing over Shaphan, who was lying on his mat.

Shaphan and I had been friends once, back when he could walk. After his fall, however, I didn't have much company with him. I wasn't much fond of beggars, which was all Shaphan did since he could no longer do a normal man's work. I didn't know the other two men, but by their ages and the excitement in their eyes I could see that they were infected with the same fervor as Marlev. They talked amongst themselves. One of them wanted us to carry Shaphan on our shoulders and march through the crowd as a group to get him to the doorway. Marlev disagreed. By the looks of the crowd we weren't going to be going anywhere.

Suddenly, Shaphan spoke up. "The roof. Drop me through the roof."

I looked at the roof of the building we were trying to reach. Like the rest of the block, it had a thatch and roped cover. If we could find a way onto the roof, we might be able to break through the thatch. We could then lower him down....

By the time we were able to get Shaphan on the roof, I had realized that Marlev had gotten the better part of the deal. Shaphan was heavy, it was dusty and I was getting hot. We quickly pulled apart the thatch roofing and made a hole big enough to fit Shaphan through. With a heave we were able to get him through the hole and begin to lower his swinging body down onto the crowd. He was heavy.

"He's down," whispered Marlev. "And there's the Messiah."

I brushed one of the other two men away from the opening in the roof and looked down on the head of a man who was standing before the temple crowd.

"Why are you thinking such things in your hearts?" I heard the man say.

He pointed at the scribes one by one. "Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, 'Your sins are forgiven,' or to say, 'Rise, pick up your mat and walk'?"

He went over to Shaphan, who was up on one elbow, watching.

"But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority to forgive sins on earth," he said loudly, still facing Shaphan. "I say to you, rise, pick up your mat, and go home!"

The room was still as we all watched Shaphan, reclined upon his mat.

There was silence.

Even the bugs had stopped their chirping outside.

From my angle, I could see his eyes. They were wide, gazing in adoration at the figure standing above him.

Shapah lifted his head.

Then stood.

The crowd gasped.

Shaphan looked down at the people seated on the floor. At the scribes seated before him. Then he bent down and picked up his mat. He didn't say a word. The crowd was silent. Shapan slowly made his way through the crowd to the door.

"Shaphan," I said.

He stopped.

Everyone looked at me.

The man they called the Messiah looked at me. Right in the eyes. And He knew what I was thinking. And He knew what I wanted to say even better than I did.

He saw my heart.

He saw my secrets.

He knew it was I who had pushed Shaphan off the wall.

My mouth went dry.

Everyone was looking at me.

Waiting for me to say something.

Anything.

something funny

Emailed to me so don't know the original source:

A farmer named Clyde had a car accident.

In court, the trucking company's lawyer was questioning Clyde.... "Didn't you say, at the scene of the accident, 'I'm fine,'" asked the lawyer?

Clyde responded, "Well, I'll tell you what happened. I had just loaded my favorite mule, Bessie, into the..."

"I didn't ask for any details", the lawyer interrupted. "Just answer the question? Did you not say, at the scene of the accident, "I'm fine!"?

Clyde said, "Well, I had just got Bessie into the trailer and I was driving down the road...."

The lawyer interrupted again and said, "Judge, I am trying to establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident, this man told the Highway Patrolman on the scene that he was just fine. Now several weeks after the accident he is trying to sue my client. I believe he is a fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question."

By this time, the Judge was fairly interested in Clyde's answer and said to the lawyer, "I'd like to hear what he has to say about his favorite mule, Bessie".

Clyde thanked the Judge and proceeded, "Well as I was saying, I had just loaded Bessie, my favorite mule, into the trailer and was driving her down the highway when this huge semi-truck and trailer ran the stop sign and smacked my truck right in the side. I was thrown into one ditch and Bessie was thrown into the other. I was hurting, real bad and didn't want to move. However, I could hear ole Bessie moaning and groaning. I knew she was in terrible shape just by her groans.

Shortly after the accident a Highway Patrolman came on the scene. He could hear Bessie moaning and groaning so he went over to her. After he looked at her, he took out his gun and shot her between the eyes. Then the Patrolman came across the road, gun in hand, looked at me, and said "How are you feeling?"

Now what the hell was I supposed to say?"

Secondcast plays Donburi!

I am an avid listener of the Secondcast podcast so you can imagine my excitement when I learned that Secondcast episode #41 "Samuri Podcasting" opened with Second Life (That's Where I Want To Be)!!!

I had been reading their website and noticed a feedback link and dropped them an email with the song. I figured why not? I got a reply back a day or two later that Johnny Ming (aka Swords) liked the tune and was going to put it in the next episode.

Gig: Hummingbird Cafe

Finished up It's the End of the World As We Know It (In Second Life) and got the kids to bed in time to make the open mic at the Hummingbird. I was the last performer and they kept the gig going a bit later than usual for me to get my short, SL-set in.

Milady Guillaume took a couple of photos of me performing. Take a look at this one.

Gig: Alzheimers Benefit

Played the Alzheimers Benefit concert organized and hosted by Kaklick. I made the "foolish" mistake of treating the event like an NPR fundraiser and made a pledge challenge that I would match all contributions made during my hour performance. Remind me to never do that again. lol. I won't tell you how much was collected nor what I contributed but I can safely say that my hour brought in more Lindens than any other.... Ouch!

There is a photo taken of the event. I'll upload it when I get a chance.

gig: New World Gallery

I played Vlad Bjornson's New World Gallery yesterday. Lagora Corinthian had a showing of sculpture and Esch his artwork.

What the Shi'ites are fighting for

Found this article in today's London Times (03 October 2006) :

Waiting for the imam's return to Earth

THE followers of Moqtada al-Sadr believe that the US invaded Iraq to prevent the return to Earth of their sect’s messiah-like figure, the Mahdi, or 12th imam.
Hojatoleslam al-Sadr claims that his militia is preparing for the day when the Mahdi, the last direct descendent of the revered Shia figure Ali, reappears. Shia believe that the Mahdi, who disappeared in 868, will bring justice to Earth.

At a prayer service in the central Iraqi city of Kufa on September 15, the cleric told a crowd of thousands that the Americans were collecting a dossier on the Mahdi to prevent his return. “Did you ever ask yourself about why all of this, the bloodshed and the prisons? Why are the brothers fighting each other for a political game planned by the Americans? This all happened because they (the Americans) are waiting for the Mahdi. This planning started ten years ago. They have a big file for Imam Mahdi and they just need his picture to complete it.”

Hojatoleslam al-Sadr and his advisers are convinced that the Americans want to destroy Islam and stop the Mahdi. “The Americans are trying to hijack Islamic movements. They think that these are serving the Mahdi’s interests. Whatever they did in Afghanistan and Iraq are all attempts to hijack the Mahdi’s return.”
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,3-2385384,00.html



I did find this in the Christian Science Monitor about Iran:

http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/1221/p01s04-wome.html

But nothing else. Hmm.. how come we don't see anything about this in the Des Moines Register? Or any US paper, for that matter?

Gig: Menorca

Played at gig at Menorca. SuezanneC Baskerville took a photo which I found here at SLUniverse.

my first guitar

Found this "old" photo of me with my first guitar that I thought you might enjoy.

At first I couldn't figure out how to get it out of the case. Then I lost it. Took me four hours to find the damn thing. Then I went and screwed up the HUD connection. Ah, the joys of being a noob.
And check out those pants!

2L just crashed and I'm back here in cyberspace.

I was at the stadium when the protesters first arrived. Fortunately, I didn't stay for the speech. Tried to get back to it, of course, along with every other avatar in 2L, but couldn't. There were too many teleports and the system crashed.

My understanding is that the protest was about whether or not children should be allowed in areas where adults are. In my opinion, I think adults and children should be allowed to be on the same server with no nudity or violence. Adults without childen can only access the Mature server. no children allowed. Remember: it is not the children who are causing the problem.

BTW, the resolution on how to solve the age thing is to require proof a credit card for a free account.

addicted from the first log-in

I bought some land last night. Or at least I think I did. Last night I found myself handing someone about $1.60 for a piece of virtual space in a computer program run on someone's network. I have just become a resident of Second Life.

My name is Niko Donburi. I reside at Tyta 248,116 in the Second Life. I am a virtual personality. This is my blog.

Too often we overlook the obvious for the sublime; looking but not really seeing. In her photos, fia attempts to capture the obvious.



Through her photos you can experience the world through a child's eyes once again.

The wonder of a child

As she looks anew at things you see everyday, but have forgotten.