In what has to be
considered the turnaround of the century, I'm actually
starting to think I'm the most sane person alive. It's
everyone else who can't keep their shit together. It's
occuring to me just how much people hold in...and in
turn pay for that with their health. Looking back, I
just don't do that. Ever. It's allllllllll sitting
here in these entries and songs. And as I found out
last night, sometimes it makes no sense at the time.
Looking back however, it's those emotionally draining
songs/videos/entries that kept me going in my real
life. Only in trying to justify it to others do
I run into any roadblocks. And there's the crux
of this entry.
So I have a melody
in my head driving me nuts - had to get it recorded -
thus, you pull out the ol' video camera. I see how I
want it to look...the vide effects I want to use to
allow the viewer to jump in my head. From how
I sing it to my movements...I'm ready.
I however have nothing really to say. I just have
to feel. I have to make sounds that feel right,
that rhyme, that work for me. The words mean nothing
really - though you could probably take each line and
find some meaning. But it's where I struggle
because I know I have to justify it when I post
it. But then it hits me...why?
Why do we as
viewers of art need justification for it? Not
justifying if it's "Worthy", but simply justifying the
why/what/wheres of it.
Why does a band have
to explain to the public why they're releasing a
record? And even more peculiar...explain why it wasn't
as big as the last one. The answer as an artist is: "I
don't control that. I just create." But we force our
artists to not only create, but create the way we want
them to. The way it touches us. And when it's not up
to our standards...we chastise them. Interesting
little connundrum ain't it.
This
video
is just blurb in my head. It's a piece of
me that had to get out. It's like a
hairball really. All this stuff going on,
I'm in the midst of so many different
things that I need to concentrate on, that
I need to create ASAP...and
I just can't. I have to get this out.
I have, it feels the way I feel
(which is harder then you'd think) and
it's there. But then just as I question
those who need justification for it... I
am that same person:
"What the hell is
this? Is it a song? What does it mean? I can't even
understand what you're saying dude. Why are you
spinning like that man? The second part hurts my head
dude...the drum sound is off...it's completely
dischordant... Ooh pretty colors, you being artsy just
for artsy sake? Not one of your best
dude."
LOL - I guess
I don't really think all of that...but in a
little tiny way: we all do. We judge art and
performance by standards of the unartistic and
untalented. Now I'm not saying you can't be a movie
critic unless you're a movie maker - but I'm not
talking about movies - which to me are about 30
different pieces of art coming together to make one
project. In that vein, when all the pieces of the film
don't gel right - it's obvious. What I mean is
say an Art Gallery. A guy puts a stop sign in the
butt-crack of a statue because he felt like it. We
laugh, point (wow I just realized the symbolism
of a stop sign in someone's butt...that's kinda funny)
anyway - we judge it...
...in turn the
artist tries to justify it. And if we don't get it
intially, and then don't get his explanation - it's
bad art. Or the politically correct would just
say: "It's not my cup of tea".
You know what
I think it is? We simply don't care about what
the artist feels, all that artsy crap. We just want it
to fall into the cateogry we consider valuable. Does
it look good to us, does it sound good to us, do
WE feel something from it. But as an artist,
it's very, very difficult to take your baggage
into account when we're spitting out ours. We
simply have to spit it out.
I remember seeing
George Harrison defend the 32 songs on the White Album
to those who thought they should've cut some and made
it a tighter 15 track album. That 32 was just too
much. "What are you supposed to do when you have all
these songs inside you?" George said. And you know,
he's right really. You have to get it out. You have to
create. Once it's out?...you can move on man. I can
never express what it feels like to get that out.
And that's why
it's therapeutic. It's funny, Doc at work gives me
shit all the time for not seeing the massage therapist
who helps you work out all your problems that your
body holds in and I just kinda laugh and go about my
day. I am constantly taking things in and spitting
them out. I
write/scream/yell/sing/act/produce/direct/film/run/screw/speak/cry/debate/draw/create...
hourly. That's my way of dealing with alllllllllllll
the shit life throws at me. I am in love with my
process. I don't want another process, because
I truly don't want another outlet. I need
all the shit that comes in to fuel all the shit that
goes out. Which is why I think I'm more sane than
most really. Granted, my insanity is foisted upon this
journal, but in real-life I'm an extremely mellow,
easy-going dude.
So in the end,
here's a minute of my brain produced in a way that
shows how I feel in moments. I'm sure hidden in here
is all I'm struggling with, all my feelings, and a
nice neat little explanation - but I personally
don't give a shit enough to try and figure all that
out for you right now. It is just what I spit up
yesterday and the final part of the process is posting
it. Guess I could've just written "Here ya go:" but I
had to over-analyze it of course.
