what up friends, this is a short video we did for "truth in fiction"  by The Mitchell Experiment.

As many of you may know, music has played an increasingly important role in my life, consuming many of my nights each week. I am blessed to have Ben , Aaron and Cesar in a band with me, as they are all very talented and more than make up for my lack of musical prowess...

Jamming with the band, The Mitchell Experiment and playing LIVE/Shows is what I live for, while recording... I don't know, its tedious, and repetitive, and often frustrating.

However, we do get some really good music out of it, and Cesar is a great recording guy... with our further ado...

check out some of our music at

www.myspace.com/themitchellexperiment

we have two songs up
Libido Limbo
Truth in Fiction


please add our band if you haven't, thanks to everyone for all your support, and packing our shows, you have all made this whole music thing better than I could have ever hoped for.

Frien​ds,​

Tonig​ht Monda​y Octob​er 13th,​ in Haywa​rd at the Bistr​o (B stree​t and main)​.​

my band , The Mitch​ell Exper​iment​ will be playi​ng a set, in celeb​ratio​n of my birth​DAY and all the octob​er birth​days.​

its monda​y.​.​.​ what else are you doing​?​


we'​ll go up betwe​en 915 and 10 PM

and they have a bunch​ of beers​ on tap there​.​


come rock out!


Thank​s,​
Josh


10.​13.​08 at the Bistr​o in Haywa​rd 915PM​



The Mitch​ell Exper​iment​:​

josh silva​ guita​r.​vocal​s
ben potte​r lead guita​r.​vocal​s
aaron​ skile​s bass.​harmo​nica
cesar​ deli drums

This is a spot in SF that is supposed to be the best open mic in the Bay, I had to go 60th on Monday nite, if that any indication of how popular it is...

song is called "after hours"

http://theutah.org/artist/joshuasilva

Thanks to all who made it out to the party on friday to celebrate a few of our friends birthdays. It was very good times with a LOT of really good people. Jason was nice enough to come by and take some photos for us, you can find them here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/64729844@N00/sets/72157604867809843/



Thanks again.

A journey to the ocean in the mountains
a canvas as white as the slate i write on.
minus the parallel horizontal blue lines that keep me organized
but how long until we get to paint,
as each brush stroke i make will eventually be erased,
i am antsy, i am eager to arrive.
Maybe it is because i just drank 1/10th of THE "5 hour energy drink"

we just passed a Prius, take about a bum deal,
this guy can't even rock car pool,he has no clean air exemption

in our warm car, the exhaust of other sardines
is a clear indication of the temperature outside.
A highway patrol squeezes our left side,
to bypass all this garbage of late and un-planning winter admirers
the road exposes itself, a slight spiral of blinking lights in reds and whites
and packed densely along a snow induced wetness of darkened gray road
i have heard of rain x, but how bout some snow x?

a much un-anticipated discovery, this jacket i borrow,
lacks a power it once maintained, as it is not quite proof of water anymore.

We just caught up with a snail that passed us ten minutes ago,
he was on a roll until the plow reduced and exposed the salted roads.
Toasty as all hell in the car, my cracked back puts comfort back in place.
The cables applied earlier today are our only proof of traction,
which makes me wonder how the guy in the car next to us has made it this far
i think he is ok, as long as momentum does not stop,
but once it does, he will be just another idiot,
getting helped by a Highway patrol, after he ignored the warnings,
and slowed traffic down for everyone else, that selfish dick.

A cigarette stales the purest of all air.
Forcing me to make my breaths less,
That same cop leads us in the slowest of progression.
as we are just accident prone human beings,
looking for a way to add complications to each day

snow is mana, life's essence,
the key to our survival and clean summer water supply

but despite that whole water is life aspect,
i'm just trying to go snowboarding,
take advantage of the minus 32 degree aqua refurbished hills
pushing my boundries, cause when i skate in the hills of the dry cities,
it is far less forgiving, far less!
and snow is practically a dream compared to pavement when i fall.

but at this pace, rate of speed, rate of snow, rate of consumption.
I may not get to go today,on one of my few chances to abuse another ecosystem

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

settle down, i'm a rock in a wicked hard place.
I don't know who you are, don't rub it in my face.
but you keep me warm like a schwann cell should
Im a bag it up like a whole sale good.

They stand alone at mondays height
Keeping me close and i know just why
Im the best thing since it came sliced
Like bread that was bred in the middle of the nite

I burn barely in a bottle of urine
I sink slowly as i show concern, and i
make this place worse than it has to be
fantastic and elastic time sensitive piece.

a random night, storin had an open mic I was trying to catch in SF but I ended up with this...



A fresh evening, cleanly showered with my white circas and some new bearings for the board. I skate more smooth then I have as of late, and stop by the closest subway, only to find a long wait. I opt to pass, and plan for pizza later, in hopes of catching the soonest BART train. Turns out my decision was perfectly timed, and under a cop's watchful eye, I slide and board.


Oakland A's BART, at capacity. The stumble of tourists luggage. Not used to the momentum of the acceleration. I laugh when I see luggage, mainly becauseI used to sell it, and understand its various levels of quality. In some senses, can help you read a person, its almost an extension of body language. 7:51 fruitvale, where are all these people going? All the occasions, all the expectations of others anxiously awaiting their arrival, whether for pleasure or service oriented business.


A tunnels partial darkness is illuminated by the rapid transit worm. A young one is so amused by a a book containing words with 4 or less letters, and I in turn am amused. Then, my feeling wrinkles just enough to make me wish I was that age again. But that quickly passed, the thought anyway, since there is no chance or possibility of that happening. Besides, my contribution will be similar, at least in several years, when I find what I call the right laydee.


A little confession. I love chicks with big earrings, dangly, hoopy, chandeler-ish, It is all to the benefit of the wear"E". So will I get to see the open mic? Or will I miss the show I came to see. Will my friends be out here later or will I get excess skating time in the metropolis across the bridge?


An amazing sunset, aided by our global industrialization. So beautiful it makes people pollute. The stems of the apple consume one beautiful mind, as 4 BART seats feels like a trip from home to eternity. Eye contact. Makes me a little nervous. And I'm the one looking away. Maybe she's staring at the board. Maybe I should just keep smiling, as lately, I lack that "fear of nothing," I used to have... swagger.

complaints... basically about the state of 2 generations ago.

blatent.... i dont know where this will go...

so ill start complaining now...

We strive so hard to reach an old age that is by far unfavorable to us. Our health is but a fraction of what it once was, and relationships are lost not by moving to another city or kids, thou many are, but by "senior homes" and the ultimate and untimely death.

We save our whole lives, or at least try to, so we can afford retirement. Thats right afford it, pay off that $500,000 loan for the house, finally pay off school, andhealth costs money, as does quality of life. And the ever present question of what disease am I going to get? Cancer, heart disease, kidney failure, stroke? We save, save, save, and pay insurance, so we can hang on for a few more years of below grade medical care and unpleasant living conditions.

BUT... it is life, and is a sure tale sign to me , that even with religion, many fear the unknown, because it is just that , unknown. Whose to say that centuries old story of our creation isnt just something to help humans cope with the fact that our existence is far to complicated for our fragile and limited minds to understand. Then again, maybe one of the many religions will be right? Any odds on which one will be... chosen? I bet someone will win big...

I guess, I just hate to see a person, of interest, in a state of mind that does not reflect what i have come to know for my 26 years of life. Downright depressing , and saddening to the point that I can't even muster a tear anymore, becuase I have become so accustomed to it this last month and a half. My forward gaze is met with a bright sun on one day, and a furious downpour the next. She will be a shell of what once was, and even if she improved enough to be.. just.... a shell... it would still do her no justice, and it takes away my stimulating conversation because, I dont know what i can talk about with her, if she even comprehends. I imagine.

Now I imagine some more. An influencial friend laid this on the line,

"LIVE/Party hard, die young, good looking corpse."

to many extents i analyze this , and try to agree and dis-agree with it, I am still swayed myself on whether i agree, and will willingly disobey, or if I disagree all together. I think only age and reflection will bring me the obvious answer. Will I possibly be passed before I know it, and experience the answer?

I hate to see someone suffer. Anyone, anything... for that matter. Especially if it is related to health or lack of it. So I think in some selfish way, I want to see her pass with dignity and with out the struggle. Instead of treading water in a hospital setting surrounded by disease and only treatment, no cures, no cures, only treatment, because... cures don't pay the bills, but treatment... now thats a fuckin breadwinner.

I Pray, in silent, and outloud, awake , and more than half asleep, for a speedy recovery, and far better results than my situational pessimism. That, or a painless pass into the unknown. I am grateful, and touched, and forever indebted to your battles and dances so many years past.

The weekend of April 27th, and 28th… a house BBQ on Mitchell and a bachelor party Up until 4 am hosting a "gathering" at my house, with breaking and entering a standard in my own room to help me achieve sleep thanks to the door knob drop of a friend, a solid nite, of 30 something friends, somehow I find a way awake at 7 am, for my first adventure in paint-balling. A solid sunny sunol experience, minus my dehydration and 94 degree weather, the day was a little pricey, but made me comfortable with the free TENsion found on the way to the Sam's Benz, rocking red with the V8 and Shipley loaded at shotgun.

Getting shot with a paintball stings for a second, thank god for face masks, I am a sniper with strategy from the right side, and a dead duck comin up on the left. Better to shoot then be shot, I think constantly advancing with suppressive fires aids in your success.


Now, home, later in the day, after 4 hours of cleaning the Friday nite mess, still dehydrated. I shower and get ready for the PROMISING nite. I am fitted in the Invincible jacket with khakis and a tie. Riding with Sam to Fridays in the Union Shitty to board our moving party in a converted greyhound. Grabbed some supplies to aid in our nite, thanks to who ever ALBERT and his SONS are….


I am able to write only due to the sweet persuasion of a cousin, and her mini quest for a writing utensil for me. 9:10pm Skyy's the limit tonite, and I will make sure we all get there, except a little Baker's in a Raiders Flask gets me started with the new piece In Jackson's collection. 9:48, boarding a PARTY-bus with a Red Sox fan as our host, and it is only acceptable because she is from BAAASTON.

I TAKE REQUESTS, AND MAKE DRINKS, AS I SEE IT MY OPPORTUNITY TO CONTRIBUTE TO GREAT FRIENDS IMMORTAL NITE PRIOR TO THE END OF BACHOLOR-NESS. Red-Crayon Vodka, and no spills… not yet. I make sure everyone has at least one drink before I retreat to mine. I also find myself on refills, but am glad to be Helping. I am sure, as of right now, that I will be loud and goofy all nite(as long as they keep laughing).


10:39, around the corner from 181, since the Loft was soft. So we see what the 3 #s have to offer. Again I stress, I always end up writing when I go here. Pine Vodka now, and wow… a lil acidic, but worth it. With taste-tests suppressed, I address the situation of getting in, but make sure not to enter the dreaded land of complaints, as I am aware it will all unfold as it should.


10:52, the line next to the line. God bless ID checks and over exposed breasts, as they are a luxury to the post 21 lifestyle. I listen, and hear that the cleavage speaks for itself, and talks to all of us, not just those with testosterone.


Now were in, in like sin, like an apple chillen on "the tree" with folage covering me on a day shortly after the creation. I am informed I am standing in the line for the Ladies restroom. Sweet, I say and repeat. The plan is a rally at 1:30, much later than expected, but since this spot is always entertaining, I can't complain. I am the self appointed administrator of making sure our party gets sloppy.

The shot with the LA couple(Chris and Grace, and Thor in spirit) put me on the shakes. Make no mistake, I love the shakes on a nite on the city. Could even go as far as to tell people it is mandatory considering the situation. Downstairs now, and at the stares of many unaccustomed to the sight of a notebook at a poppin night scene, I am told and agree that I am of a different breed. A journal, a diary, I laugh it off, and toss up the idea that I am merely a recorder of the sequence of events and disorder. And all that follows…


An evenly spaced room, obviously the lower, and tad bit more ghetto floor. In fact, we're "BALLIN" and its 11:20pm. Only 70 minutes remain to act in a conscious way to achieve bliss… speaking of bliss, where are the rest of the troops? Im sure to be remembered as a wanderer.


Walk it out… the first 3 chords of the song drop, and the crowd erupts, you have to appreciate the fact that music can have such a fascinating appeal to a diverse crowd with music the commonality. I call it, "complete control over the situation," and hope that I can follow in those steps with my style.


I am focused, name? eye contact? I am so poor at this in this environment. The purple lighting from above gives off this oddly drunk and horny vibe that so many are willing to share, I watch and laugh, and wonder if I am the only one that thinks of this stooped ass shit when I am out. The girl in all white with the black belt, a target, that communicated well with me earlier outside with words, eyes and a smile, but the share of 10 words with her now has me bored, and severely un-impressed, and again, I wander.


11:39 and relieved, the thought crosses my mind that I should shed a lil light on my more ghetto side, but even under the slight influence of a smile, I find myself unwilling to persuade my style or change her perception. I think I figured it out, purple light leaves me willingly-passive, what ever the hell that means. Ok, let me clarify, my persistence is weakened… but its ok, because, we'll I Don't know why its ok, but I accept it.
CHECK THIS!!!!



THE BOUNCER JUST TOLD ME I AM NOT ALLOWED TO WRITE AT A CLUB, AND THREATENED TO KICK ME OUT IF I CONTINUE. Freedom of the press eliminated, and by a person that truly believes he is helping the situation. Can you imagine the inadequacy this 6 foot plus, over/super sized(fat, not ripped) bouncer feels, as he comes up to me, and tells me to stop my flow of ink, since this is such a danger to the club environment. Yeah, we wouldn't want anyone to get hurt now would we!!!!! The danger… I'm a little irked that I could be threatened to exit for this, Almost made out to be an enemy combatant, the fear that I imposed as a gentleman with a pen and some advanced papyrus. It makes me smile with disgust to know that I can draw attention for nothing, I was not rude to a girl, or starting a fight, or drinking to much. Perhaps the dilemma is that I was too calm. I will continue to write, thou my location will change. Sliding upstairs, I avoid the lowest level clogged with AN un-eventful and closed mind.


Jumping through hoops just to save a friend, and it pays off with a complimentary drink. Perfection approaches… let me rephrase, "is here." Solid now and relieved, I enter the bar and whatever conversations may soon apply.


And that ends my writing for the nite, as handwriting blends in not the most legible way, not to mention that my memory fades.