Tag Archives: paul kempe art

Paul Kempe: Communication is King

One may use the correct words, but when used with the wrong tone or facial expressions , the meaning of the words are changed. When we were primates we had no verbal language except for the shrills, and grunts and so on so forth. The tone of what we emitted was (and remains) the first language. It is also the most trusted.

People today, have never been so bad at communicating, despite having more broader means for doing so. Which is sad because today the stakes are higher. Miscommunication will be the start of the next world or regional civil war. Good communication also requires knowing one another, not just on the surface, but under the skin. This takes time, used for study, of things that are not redeemable for a million dollars tomorrow morning. The knowledge of other people, and all people as a whole is used everyday by all people, but that knowledge is often flawed and in fact wrong. In many cases purposely, there is a fox in the hen house.

So you can see, how today there are more people, communicating on more mediums, with more flawed information. This is a recipe for disaster. The problem is that we are wired to make decisions based on who we identify with and not the ideas, or policies themselves. The primate in us, is afraid the leave the tree. It is the human that chose to come down from the tree, and thus was forced to broaden his understanding of the world and strengthen his communication skills. This required a major effort, for a very serious cause, which was survival. Today we are once again at the cross roads, we need to come down from the tree, all of us, and work together to make this world a better place. We need to give up our petty squabbles and start learning to live together without insulting each other, so that we make better use of our short time to help make the world a better more harmonious place.

Get over it, today is the future
. That’s what my parents told me repeatedly. As a professional equities trader, that advice has paid huge dividends, it has also done the same in my personal and professional life. If I’m successful, (define success) it was mostly because I had the ability and the training the forget the past and forge ahead. That lesson did not require a higher formal institutional education or degree, it’s not rocket science, it is a huge part of being human.

The Prison of My Mind

Have you ever tried to escape the prison of your own mind, I have tried and failed except when I was drunk and on drugs. When I’m sober I often can’t stand myself, I want out but there is no out, until the music stops. People think they know what other people go through, but they are fucking delusional, for they know as much about me as I about them, which is nothing. The keyboard and violin is myself. I’m self taught from the age of fifty. You might think it’s shit, while I on the other hand think it’s pretty good. It has an energy and color that truly expresses the way I feel. The video is purposely long and minimal, which is really what the prison of my mind is like.

PS. I know I’m not the only one

Let your nuts sag

Paul Kempe’s 100% cotton suits, for Nomads Coat, doing Calisthenics and dancing in the streets of downtown LA. Nomads Coat produces the best lounge wear, pajamas, gardening pants, and dope coats in the world. We also sell the best fitting pants in the world for big asses, that allow your nuts to sag (drape down low). For Work, Play and Siesta

fitness for seniors

Calisthenic for old people, by Paul Kempe,
or “Cali Tai Chi”
Fitness for old people
fitness for seniors
The golden years
or “Worlds dumbest video”
it was a good day, not all my days are this awesome
paul kempe’s 100% cotton suits, for nomadscoat.com

Cali Sthenics

What a process. From the day I arrived a week ago on Sunday, till today. Huge emotional swings from north, south, east and west. But in the end my creative side won the day, or should I say “the week”. I’m very happy now to be once again living in Los Angeles. I’m just gonna keep moving. I’m mot gonna let ugly thoughts get a grip on me. I’m old, so what, that ain’t stop nobody. As long as I’m moving I’m alive, and in that regard no different than anyone else.

Yesterday I walked around all morning, shot all these clips with my phone and put this video together. Most of it was filmed at MacArthur Park in Los Angeles, and on Olympic Blvd not far from the Ramada Hotel across the street from 7-11.

The suit I’m sporting is the same suit I’ve been wearing everyday since I got here. The suit is provided by Nomads Coat produced and designed by Paul Kempe (forgive me, I need to get the SEO bullsit in here). Looks pretty good right. Paul Kempe’s 100% Cotton Suits, “Get More Out of Life”.

Musical blog for Feb, 7 2019

It’s practice stuff, on some things I been working on for the last few hours. Don’t play it too loud. Think of it as background noise to drown out noise that’s buggin you. Perfect for insomniacs who are tired of ruminating. The guitar work on the last piece is real bad, and I could have chopped that segment out but chose to keep it because it’s still a good vibe. Just think your like hangin out in my studio while I practice and it will be all good. You know like “keeping it real”, do people still say or do that anymore?

save the elephants, ga ga goo goo

What’s Your Name

What’s Your Name?
Alpha female was the first impression I had when I first saw Grace standing outside Amy’s Bar, where she works on Hotel Street, smoking a cigarette as the sun began to descend upon what’s left of downtown Honolulu’s historic red light district. Her body language was carefree, confident, and content, the cigarette more a prop then a vice. She was frail and very feminine in stature, but she stood taller then her actual height, and although seemingly in her early sixties she was attractive and radiant. She is a bright star not only surviving, but thriving in a place better suited for artists, crack dealers, and tweakers, than a sixty year old lady. All this I observe while dinning on what I believe is the worlds best Won Ton Mien, and peering out the window of the Mini Garden Noodle House where there is never a line to get in, so you can be sure that you’re in the know, and those lined up at the neighboring “Little Village” restaurant are not.

After I finish my Lychee Sorbet, pay my tab and exit the restaurant, I see that my newly minted Alpha Female is once again on display in front of the bar enjoying a cigarette, and I decide to get a closer look. I’m not disappointed. It’s the first Friday Night of the month when all the merchants sterilize the streets, clubs put on early evening shows and galleries whose director wouldn’t know real art if it fell on they’re heads stay open late into the night, plying their trade on the clueless working class revelers looking for any reason to orgasm. By now the traffic on the sidewalk in front of Amy’s Bar is starting to accumulate, with young people lining up to penetrate the neighboring clubs. In the midst of it all, miss Alpha Female sustains her glow effortlessly. She’s comfortable in her skin, and not intimidated. She’s equally comfortable in her environment, yet she somehow doesn’t seem to be of it. She is from another place and time, yet she is not out of place. As I make my way through the crowded street, we are face to face, where I pause just long enough to note her hair, skin, eyes and feet, which all meet my approval. I tell her she is pretty, watch the reaction on her face, and shove off. Despite being strangely attracted to her, I don’t clearly understand the meaning of the fixation thus prefer to avoid a conversation. She smiles pleasantly; seeming surprised by the remark out of left field, and pats me warmly on the shoulder as I walk away. Her way of saying thank you, I imagine.

I don’t like first Fridays because there are too many egos, new clothes, and pretty faces that rob the town of its real ghoulish character. Everyone with his or her lover looking like they’re going to get some, while I’m left alone to rationalize my existence. Yeah right. It’s you who are all the mediocre underachievers, and sellouts to the system, and it’s I who is the wise and studious, talented and creative, who is able to see things in the world that only thinking people can see. Yeah that’s right, it is I who is free from the forces that herd the sheep to and fro day in and day out. And it is I with the power to forge loneliness and despair into a masterpiece that no one seems care about, not you, but I. And it is I who suffers from the unknown dreaded disease called loneliness due to your ignorance, a crime for which all sheep must atone.

Clearly I have lost my way, and my compass is no longer reliable, and from here on out I must read brail. I know there is a deficiency in my social diet, which is curable, but I’m emotionally powerless to take action because I lack the intestinal fortitude to change the way I think about my moral responsibility which in turn affects the way I see myself, thus how others see me. In fact, the cure is as simple as flicking a switch in the dark hollow corridors of my brain, however the problem lies in that there is more then one switch, with varying degrees of brightness, and darkness, so depending on one’s zest for life there are a wide variety of people I can be. Think of a mixing board in a recording studio, times a gazillion.

Beware however, some of the switches once turned on cannot be turned off, and everyone you come in contact with comes equipped with his and her own personal mixing board, which can and often times will connect with another persons unit, and or in fact large numbers of other units, and even take control of those units for personal gain. Like Oprah.

Like anglers we have our antennas on and lines cast into the sea, baited with benevolence, where every meeting is a negotiation, and names are often forgotten at first meetings because both parties are too busy figuring out the value of a potential relationship.

Gee I’m sorry what was your name again? I’m just awful when it comes to names.

Paul, my name is Paul, no problem; I do it all the time

Do what all the time?

Think about whether or not I’d like to fuck every girl I meet; consider the odds of success, and then estimate the cost and effect.

Buy me a drink?

(C) KEMPE 2008

Let It Go

let it go let it go let it go let it go or let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go ? What ever the case “let it go”. Let go of fear, be brave, and you will be free. You can go to church, meditate, and practice yoga till your blue in the face, but unless you let go of fear, your (my life) life will be a pain. Running away doesn’t solve my problem, but facing it without fear, and being brave does. Breathing deeply, and being strong of mind, and body (as much as possible) are the tools I use to carve out my existence. To exercise is to exorcise my fears, desires, and hunger. When I run, I breathe deeply, exhale and let it go. When I walk in the mountains, I breathe deeply, exhale and “let it go”. Let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, when I’m in my bed late at night and early in the morning unable to sleep, I chant “let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, breathe (inhale deeply), let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go. It’s similar to the Buddhist chant “nam myoho renge kyo” the only difference being is that you can know that somewhere, someplace there is someone else chanting the same as you, at the very same time. That is comforting I suppose, but if I’m to be brave and fearless than why would I need comfort. Let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, comfort is never a certainty that can or should be depended on, for it is forever ephemeral until we die, at which time it is a certainty that is everlasting. Thus fear nothing, cling to no one and anything, but be free, and let it go. Let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, exhale, let it go, let it go.

There that is my credo, and my spiritual advice to myself and anyone else. It is my mantra, book, and guide as I try and navigate this life. Is there something missing, should I have a higher power, or a god of some kind ? Yes I do believe that my higher power is represented in those people I love who I leave behind. They are the source of my wealth that I hope satisfies them as much as it satisfies me. All that I do while I’m alive, striving to be brave, fearless, strong, good, and healthy, I should do for the people I love, thus I have invested in my higher power, thus invested in my sanity, mental, and spiritual health. I do this expecting nothing in return, but the gratification in knowing that I have loved. I must not cling, for clinging generates fear of losing, and losing is “letting go” and I cannot afford to fear “letting go” for “letting go” is my fuel and my salvation. To “let it go” is to be free, free from the shackles of societies idea of what life is or should be, to whom or which I would like to say “fuck you, you don’t know me or own me” but than I would have to own it, owning anything is an impediment to “letting it go”.

But are there somethings which I should not let go of like, and especially love ? Well, to love is to give, not to own, so no, even in love I must “let it go” like Aloha. If Aloha is an expression of love, and the “ha” in aloha means breath, than well, the Hawaiians are genius.

I sprang out of bed at 2:00 am February 3rd, 2019 to write this because I was chanting “let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, breathe, let it go, let it go” and felt inspired to share this with you (who I don’t don’t know, it doesn’t matter). Why ? I guess I love you. Sounds kind a corny, but love is real, contagious, and healing. Love is a spiritual expression. Love is a power that can cause insanity when held in and not released. Let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go.

But love alone is not enough. Life is fight, every day a battle that requires fearless, bravery. At the end of the day, I may have won or lost the battle, but if I fought with all my might, than it means I left it all on the battle field, gave it all I had, and had “let it go”. Now I can lay my head down on my pillow knowing I did the best I could, that I did good, and that is a good feeling. Money cannot buy that. Fuck money, don’t chase the money, make it follow you.

Disclaimer:
I’m not a Saint of a Preacher, in fact I often think I’m the worst fuck up on the planet, but I’m Daruma, and I get back up and try again. No one, and I mean no one, is fucking perfect, and we all gonna go to heaven someday. That makes us all equal. Have no fear, let it go, be brave, and I will be happy.

ga ga goo goo