A crazy person on the L train mumbled the following statement to another rider, and I was lucky enough to overhear:
Man, you gots to learn yo' math-a-matics, 'cuz you ain't no Casanova.
Words of wisdom, to be sure. In fact, later that evening, in his address to the joint session of Congress, Obama said:
And so tonight, I ask every American to commit to at least one year or more of higher education or career training... dropping out of high school is no longer an option. It’s not just quitting on yourself, it’s quitting on your country – and this country needs and values the talents of every American.
It's basically two different approaches to saying the same thing. That's right, America -- you ain't no Casanova.
I've been having an exceptionally difficult time writing lately. More specifically, it's been problematic trying to translate the barrage of noise in my head into anything more tangible. I can't really tell which is worse -- having no ideas or having a ton of ideas, none of which are shouting loudly enough to get the proper attention.
I've tried to write this post (and many others) a number of times, but I genuinely worry about this blog becoming a diary of artistic and personal meltdown. It's also exceptionally hard to communicate about creative struggles and internal processes and so forth without sounding, well, angst-y. I suppose it's always going to be hard to not come across as angst-y when you're a homeless (only technically) chronic depressive in the midst of artistic crisis. It's a shame, really. I've got quite a good sense of humor about it all.
No matter the medium, I tend to start working from fragments that seem interesting to me -- an interesting sound or tone that I play around with until there's a song; a color in a photograph that inspires a piece of design; a phrase that appears in my head while driving that becomes the foundation for a chorus. I don't like thinking about what a piece is about until the end of the process, if not well after it is completed. The best work I've done has been that which pours out of me without much active thinking until its time for editing. Lately, I seem to be thinking the opposite way: wanting to create something about X, about Y. I suppose for some people, that's the right way to work. Nice and linear. For me, I find it is stifling. It means I find myself upset when I can't find a sound that feels like X, a phrase that sums up Y. I'm pretty solidly an abstract-random. Linear rarely works for me.
Ultimately, I have to remember to keep my eyes open. I've got to find interesting haystacks, rather than hoping there's needles in the one I happen to be near -- especially since I have a fear of needles.
Unrelated: The image above was taken a few minutes ago, while I was sitting on the front steps of my friends' house. It's nice to be able to sit outside without needing the warmth of a wool pea coat.
I know I just posted an M83 track, but this one also seems appropriate.
Above: a little winter wonderland on Super Bowl Sunday. Below: a little fragment of noise, complete with guitar tracked through the USB microphone that comes with the Rock Band game. I'm recording demos by any means necessary at the moment. I miss my ProTools set-up.
I've been really excited ever since M83 announced that they'd be reissuing their catalog on vinyl. They are finally available now. Picked up two of them today. Happiness.
I fell into The Gap, and found this reversible zip sweater and pair of black skinny jeans (on sale). I treated myself to it because I deserve it. Yes. That's my justification.
Stripes equal teh hotness, right?
I can't stop text messaging my friend Aaron with things like:
i'm a mess of anxiety and 90's guitar pop.
and:
teh hotness. fer rlz.
and:
stop being better at life than me.
That is all for the moment. Oh, also... there's a Television record on the stereo.
One of the most influential and important books to me in the past was Buckminster Fuller's Critical Path. In it he describes how the world is essentially going to fall apart unless we radically change our approach to a number things by the year 2000 -- a date which has, obviously, passed us by. I can't help but think about that a bit when I think about the last eight years.
The book also contains a great deal about the way Buckminster Fuller approached his life. The thing that influenced me the most was his idea (to really paraphrase it) that if he tried to do positive works -- if he could use his ideas to better the world -- than the world would in return take care of him. It's a romantic notion, but that he put it to the test and succeeded is wonderful.
This is what I happened to be thinking about, standing on the porch of my friends' house where I have been staying.
Unrelated, the music I keep listening to lately when I've been driving:
I am working away at something. I dislike my own impatience, but I have a sense where things will start heading. All things in time.
UPDATE: Below is a piece of something that is being worked on. Sadly it contains none of the guitar parts, as I'm not really able to fully record right now. However, it's a hint at what is in the works.
I've been having an incredibly difficult type writing anything lately. It has nothing to do with the broken laptop key that I can't be bothered to fix. I believe it's mainly a result of being out of practice, but I am starting to get incredibly frustrated with the difficulty I am having of getting things out of my brain and into, say, words.
I'm finding myself at one of those mind-racing-with-things-except-for-when-I'm-near-a-writing-implement sorts of places.
Winter turns me far too useless.
Excuses, excuses. Bullshit.
I am having trouble telling if everything in my brain is simmering and getting ready to turn into something, or if there's just smoke but no fire -- I'm mixing my heat-related metaphors here. I'm having a fair amount of anxiety around, well, actually all my creative processes, and I tend to deal with that badly. There's a lot of second-guessing and a lack of drawing meaningful or interesting connections.
I was very excited for the inauguration festivites today -- though was thwarted from watching the affair live by a faltering internet connection that has just only recently started working again. We listened to Obama's swearing in and speech over a crackling radio. Very retro.
That all was followed by record shopping and Chinese food.
Both images above are of Lake Como in Saint Paul, taken in the fall. They are thoroughly unrelated to inauguration day, Le Tigre reissues or broccoli beef, but Como Park is a place I love and I'd like to think about good things today.
Bush is really gone now. That's certainly a good thought.
I apologize for the excessive cuteness, but I do love these cats so much. Kenobi is the one in the foreground; Solomon is the ball of fur in the background. The image above is now the background on my cell phone, which brings me joy every time I look at it.
In addition to being adorable, they also make nice feet/leg warmers while I sleep.
I should also mention, mainly for Seth, that it will be quite some time before the word 'cat' appears in the subject of one of my posts. I know he will appreciate that. Unrelated, the music that happens to be in my head at the moment is below:
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