it seems that the more embedded i have become in agricultural/nature-y pursuits the more my music tastes have erred toward the digital. i’m not always into it because sometimes i’m too down to listen to super up beat music but i’ve been making monthly sets on soundcloud for awhile now, but this one track is just one that i’ve been listening to a lot. i like how it’s live and lo fi. you can see inside the venue on google maps.
someone saying ‘i’m not in love with you’ is just as freeing as being in love.
i finished a second draft of this short film i’ve been writing. it’s circulating to some friends and potential actors. i don’t have much experience with film, but right now it seems like there is some positive momentum to make it happen.
nathan played my cover of his song “everybody dreams,” on his revolution radio show.
and last night we had our first ever performance event on the farm. for the first time in a long time – ever? – something felt right about that room. there has been a void in that space that i had been looking to fill and it seemed like for a moment it was filled, with genuine exchange and self expression. i’m not sure if we will ever do it again. it might be ephemeral, or might be the beginning of a new kind of style for this place.
i had posted this thought earlier in the week: “i want to escape this place with someone i love.” i had originally written “i want to go to sleep and never wake up.” maybe those thoughts are too different ways of saying the same thing. and the new thought is that i have been striving to feel valued for both what i do and who i am. and it’s a bit difficult when you’re in between, because what does passion mean when you’re inbetween? it seems like all i have is a trail of, “i did this, look it was cool, and now i’m totally lost.” what’s attractive about that?
i want to escape this place with someone i love
been listening to this song today
my valentine’s day excursion ended with me and my friend witnessing someone have a seizure at the thrift store. i will spare the details and simply say it was the closest i’ve seen to someone dying right before my eyes. the paramedics took her away on a stretcher. my guess is she probably survived but who knows really.
there is a reason I have been dwelling so much about the past: the past was better. the stories of the present are either brutal or banal. the past had whimsy and possibility and love and romance.
when I feel better about the present I know the past can finally just be in the past. but days like these…
My body is in aesthetic revolt from this environment. Environment stated as an object in separation; this from someone who typically spurns such separations; this says something of my predicament. Concepts such as taste and cultural compatibility – terms that are riddled with elitism and hierarchy – suddenly feel germane to describe how I feel. It’s a veritable desert of culture. The best way I can describe how I feel is the Steve Buscemi character in the film “Ghost World.”
And yet I am here grappling with my ineluctable connection and fears from breaking from the familiar. But when so much of the social space and the people look and feel dead and suddenly I feel dead then the fear of staying the same begins to ecclipse the fear of staying the same. It’s this feeling of nothing is better than this. The unknowable not guaranteed; nothing is better than dying in comfort and paradise.
I have become part of this place. There is no denying that. There is also no denying that i definitely want to be part of a different place. It has to do with people and taste. Wanting to be surrounded by people who share a rapport over art and music and politics. Not homogeneity but some cultural touchstone that doesn’t exist in my experience.
I am afraid still. I only have my own creative problem solving skills to rely upon with no guarantees of them being up to this challenge.