Hi everyone, I'm Alex.
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Hello everyone, thanks for the warm welcome . I am a student of masters of electronics and i learning electronics from practical way by doing diy projects and repairing stuffs. Looking forward to take many critical repairs. I am able to solve many issues from refering this forum. Thanks everyone 👍
Karuppuapple🙂
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Hello.
It all started when I was twelve and I asked my grandfather to help modify my electric guitar in a manner explained in a magazine article. I have arrived here because I decided to make noises with the limited amount of time I have on Earth. Being born and raised in rural Texas, it became apparent in the '90s that my choices of bandmates were not acceptable, so I decided to get a computer and be the whole band. My first was an eMachines with a Pentium D. The first time I used what is now called FL Studio, within minutes the system shut down. I do not take no for an answer....
Fast forwarding to present, I am now 46. About two years ago, I sold the property I had been living at and maintained what I now know is called a repair clinic for over a decade. Six incarnations of recording studio were built and improved, transforming the structure into an incredibly well-insulated, vibration isolated refuge for myself and other creatives. I added every skill necessary for durable and useful construction in the process - foundation, plumbing, electrical, carpentry. Observing the proprietor of Obblonge Box pursuing his goals, many in the eighty-homestead community and surrounding area began bringing tasks needing accomplishing and questions unanswered. It has been over fifteen years since I had a payroll check. PC building and repair, musical equipment, labors both skilled and not. My backyard became a materials sorting center and the driveway a drop off point for all sorts of unused, unusable, and unwanted recyclables. Using over 90% repurposed supplies for artist commune's design and renovation, the working title of the art project was Look What You Threw Away. It wasn't completed when I left, and still interior noise levels measured 53db in the early morning hours. This was about a thousand feet from a 65mph two-lane farm-to-market road and a railroad switchtrack where one train carrying a million tons of coal would screech to a halt for a mile to let another pass in an opposite direction.
I am now a full-time writer and recording artist. Everything I own fits in one large backpack and a soft-sided guitar gigbag, which houses a solidbody electric I carved from a piece of Honduran mahogany sourced off of eBay. In October of 2023 I released five albums on my own ASCAP-registered publishing label - three spoken word, one instrumental, and one angry, noisy thing one reviewer called 'a cyborg spreading chaos through a newscast translated into the language of coffee grinders connected to the IoT'. Recently I had a track featured on a two-album compilation set on the experimental electronic label Webelotrax, whom I am working on a full-length release for. Over seven hundred published literary works are being pushed, pulled, prodded into several books. I have been honored with three Daily Deviation spotlights on DeviantArt, the world's largest art community. One of forty-five included on the limited space SixSentences blog last year, listed as a top one-hundred site by Writer's Digest. Google officially recognizes my registered stage name and counts me as a contributor to thirty sites. All of my output so far is available for free on various platforms, with options to buy or donate if one so chooses.
I occupy a couch in the corner of a friend's tiny one bedroom apartment. All day, every day is spent at the workstation - a fifteen-year-old laptop without a battery, old Panasonic TV, external sound card/mic interface, MIDI controller. That is specifically why I am here - to attempt to flash a new bios to a much more capable laptop using a CH341A USB device.
I have been using my art to raise as much awareness as possible of my missing fiancé Patty, 56, whom I have known for thirty-eight years. She asked me to marry her after fifteen-hour (!) conversations and was then cut off from all communication by the white supremacist narcissistic abuser in Lake Orion, Michigan she was trying to escape. I can find no evidence she is alive, and no one will help. There is nothing else more important.
If you are still following along, thank you for your time. It is all we have, and yours is not taken lightly.
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