Justin Chart
Justin Chart
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Image from Justin Chart
Image from Justin Chart
Image from Justin Chart
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Sennheiser & Chart… more
1 day ago • Edited
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Jazzure  Part 1 I love jazz because it speaks to my soul and never disappoints. The complexity and the improv mean that I never hear the same cut on an album or live performance of a piece the same way twice and it works my mind, body and soul. To me, listening to good jazz is akin to a healing meditation! I love jazz because of its ability to evoke such tremendous emotion... primarily joy! I love jazz because as it is such an interesting style of music which involves improvisation, solos, the interaction between musicians. I love jazz because... of it’s instant composing and rhytmic interesting character: jazz in all it’s different appearings is often able to enrich the very moment, the NOW. And that’s all we have, isn’t it? Jazz is a reflection of life. It is intellectually challenging, rewarding, frustrating, invigorating, fun.. In my studio I have a quote from Confucius, “It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop”. Jazz is a journey that never reaches an end point for any player. It just continues. Jazz combines creativity from the mind, heart, and the gut. It flourishes through my truth and uses melody and rhythm to bridge the musician's creativity and the listener's imagination. I love jazz because it's an area of music where I am free to incorporate everything I've experienced in music, including multiple genres and global cultures, and creatively express myself as a composer and improviser.  I play so much as do I express the various styles I've absorbed in a way that is honest and personal. As a Multi - instrumentalist it means I cover a lot of different sounds, and as a composer it means I draw on a lot of different influences quite freely. Part 1… more
Sep 11, 2019 • Edited
There's nothing like a Great Sandwich "What can I get for you?" the old man asked when I walked in. The expression on his face was hopeful, almost uncomfortably so.  "Just a couple bottles of water," I said. His shoulders sagged, the disappointment obvious. I noticed the chalkboard behind him. "And one of your sandwiches," I quickly added. He asked me what kind. I told him to make me his favorite. I pulled an old metal chair up to a scarred wooden table to wait. The next mountain I would climb dominated the view out the window. I'll see all I want of that soon enough, I thought, so I turned to look around his store. You know the type: small, owner-operated country store, once a hub of the community, long pushed aside by chain convenience stores. The shelves were mostly filled with items--fishing lures, diapers, auto parts, books, movies, homemade goods--once essential, now gathering dust as relics of a world much less flat. My head was turned towards the back of the store and I didn't notice he had shuffled over. "I'm sorry," I said, half standing. "You didn't have to bring my food to me." "That's all right," he said. "Sit down and relax." Then he paused and tilted his head towards the plastic tray in his hands. "I made one for myself too. If you don't mind I'll sit and eat with you." Absolutely, I said. He pulled over a chair and the legs creaked as he eased down on it. I took a bite of the sandwich. "This is really good," I said. He smiled and nodded. Then he asked questions. Where was I from? Where I was going? Did it take long to get used to people seeing me in that skin-tight getup? As we talked he took small bites of his sandwich. I could tell he wanted our conversation to last. So I asked about his store. He said he had opened it almost 40 years ago, back when folks only made the trip to "town" was every month or so. He had tried to stock a little of everything. In time he learned which items different families needed. He tried to stock those too. "Now I don't know what to do," he said. "Most of my old customers moved on or passed on. I try to keep up but nothing much seems to work. I don't know. Maybe this is a young man's game." He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I just don't know," he said, almost to himself. I tried to think of something to say. I could talk about meeting an unfilled need and finding a niche and differentiation through service, but whatever I said would be a platitude... and platitudes only serve to insult those who already gave their all. Sometimes there isn't anything to say. So we sat in silence as he looked out the window, eyes fixed on something only he could see. Eventually he shook his head. Then we talked some more. A little while later I left. As I rode away I thought about how business can be a metaphor for life. At a surface level, business is cut and dried: You make money or lose money, build a customer base or lose a customer base, launch a new product or watch it fall flat. You care about the surface level because it's important, but under the surface is where the true importance lies. Under the surface are the connections, the relationships, the friendships, and the times you don't just serve some market but get to make a real difference in another person's life. For him, that was the mother who had counted on him to stock her baby's favorite formula. That was the father who had occasionally found time to take his boys fishing and counted on him having bait. That was the carload of boys who stopped in for sodas and snacks and a movie to take home on a Friday night because that was how they spent small town Friday nights. He and his store had meant something, however small, to people. Now it didn't. Now he didn't. I'd like to say I found a way to help turn his store around, but life doesn't work that way. I rode by a year later and the store was closed, the building empty. I unclipped and stood in the dusty parking lot for a minute. Nothing moved but a few loose shingles flapping in the wind. No ads in the windows. No sign above the door. Nothing to commemorate a lifetime of work. Nothing, that is, but the memories. He has thousands and in that he is truly rich. Sometimes a business, and even a life, is like that. And maybe that's okay.… more
Sep 4, 2019 • Edited
Image from Justin Chart
Image from Justin Chart
Image from Justin Chart
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Baritone Bravado… more
Aug 27, 2019
Image from Justin Chart
Image from Justin Chart
Los Angeles La Canción Los Angeles Latin  Somos un equipo ganador estrellas y una pantalla de plata Venimos de lugares distantes y cercanos para estar con los mejores Nosotros somos Los Angeles Los Angeles Arena mar y sol Una forma de vida El océano Estamos relajados pero estamos en movimiento Aquí En Los Angeles Los Angeles Desde el centro hasta Malibu Las colinas de Hollywood Todo está aquí para ti De todas partes del mundo Cada cual aportando nuestra confianza Para Los Angeles Los Angeles Uno escucha LA es donde quiere estar Somos mas, mucho más que eso Un arcoíris de savores y de alamás Nosostros Manejamos el Rock n Roll Muy pronto te daras cuenta el ave del paraiso Te lleva, te despierta, te hace sentir una ciudad viva Espiritues independientes Sensación de una puesta de sol eso es lo que encontrarás aqui en Los Angeles Los Angeles Calles oh poderosos sitios y sonidos Llevarlo a un terreno más elevado LA El lugar para estar lleno con imaginación No hay nada como esta ciudad Yo he estado en todas parates Hay una cosa que sé Soy un Angelino orgulloso Aqui en la tierra del sur Siempre un pionero Nosotros vivimos aquí En Los Angeles Los Angeles Los Angeles… more
Aug 17, 2019
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Love is Aware I was taking a walk the other day, strolling along in a haze grasping for bits of clarity and happiness when I came upon someone sitting on the sidewalk. I asked her "what was the matter?" She just said "Can you tell me the secret of Life?" I smiled and said " Within all of us its as if there were Lions fighting. One of the Lions is focused on protecting her territory; she is full of anger, criticism and resentment. She is fearful and controlling. The other is focused on Love, Joy and Peace. She is Luminous and adventurous."  She said" with her eyes wide with curiosity, "which one of the Lions is going to win?"  I replied, "The one you feed" Which one will you feed?… more
Aug 10, 2019
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Los Angeles The Song In the last 15 years the arts, especially visual arts and music, have been heralded as a panacea for all kinds of social problems from improving academic performance of high school students to revitalization of blighted neighborhoods in the inner cities and promotion of economic prosperity. Participation and engagement in the art improves physical and psychological well- being. Many also claim that the arts provide a catalyst for the creation of intangible social capital and the attainment of important community goals. In the 2008 the arts also played a critical role in the national election. When Shepard Fairey designed the "Hope" poster with Barack Obama's face, many people looked at Obama for the first time, or in a new light as a viable candidate for the highest political office in this country. Thus, the arts play a huge and important role on our country's politics, progression, and consciousness. With Los Angeles The Song the artist wishes to draw attention to the lives we live and encourage mindfulness about what unites people, what makes them happy, and by doing so directly contribute to fostering truthful public discourse about those issues and that should eventually lead to a positive social change. In other words, through this musical project the artist wishes to start and maintain an honest conversation about the role of creativity in this nation and how to use its positive forces in a meaningful way. The artistic expression of Los Angeles The Song is intentional, it is expressing this artist’s interest in the creation of both “artistic capital” – i.e. contribution to social innovation and activism, and “artistic effects” – intentional focus on contributing to social and civic change. The project’s intent to affect social change is directly connected to the artist’s personal experiences.… more
Aug 9, 2019
Image from Justin Chart
MAKE A DIFFERENCE  There’s a lake I visit once in a while. Each time I walk by this lake, I see the same elderly woman sitting at the water’s edge with a small metal cage sitting beside her. The other day  my curiosity got the best of me, so I walked over to her. As I got closer, I realized that the metal cage was in fact a small trap. There were three turtles, unharmed, slowly walking around the base of the trap. She had a fourth turtle in her lap that she was carefully scrubbing with a spongy brush. “Hello,” I said. If you don’t mind my nosiness, I’d love to know what you’re doing with these turtles.” She smiled. “I’m cleaning off their shells,” she replied. “Anything on a turtle’s shell, like algae or scum, reduces the turtle’s ability to absorb heat and impedes its ability to swim. It can also corrode and weaken the shell over time.” “Wow! That’s really nice of you!” I exclaimed. She went on: “I spend a couple of hours relaxing by this lake and helping these little guys out. It’s my own strange way of making a difference.” “But don’t most freshwater turtles live their whole lives with algae and scum hanging from their shells?” I asked. “Yep, sadly, they do,” she replied.  “Well then, don’t you think your time could be better spent? I mean, I think your efforts are kind and all, but there are fresh water turtles living in lakes all around the world. And 99% of these turtles don’t have kind people like you to help them clean off their shells. So, no offense… but how exactly are your localized efforts here truly making a difference?” The woman giggled aloud. She then looked down at the turtle in her lap, scrubbed off the last piece of algae from its shell, and said, “Sweetie, if this little guy could talk, he’d tell you I just made all the difference in the world.” You can change the world – maybe not all at once, but one person, one animal, and one good deed at a time. Wake up every morning and know what you do makes a difference. It does.… more
Aug 2, 2019 • Edited
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