On Music

As a chronic music listener, I've come up with a system of sorts when it comes to "filing" and organizing what I like. Anything I find boring is immediately thrown out of the picture. I used to force myself to get through a whole song or album, even if it wasn't pleasing to me, just to give it a chance. Eventually I figured, if it doesn't please me now then it most likely never will. And I skip over it. I suppose that same mentality can apply to other life situations. Why must we force ourselves to pursue routes which bring no joy? Why must we try things we have no interest in, just to feel the satisfaction of saying we completed it? What small chance of short lived satisfaction is worth time being uncomfortable and strained?

All my music must be organized into playlists with songs and artists of a similar type. That way, if I'm feeling a certain way I know where I can find songs to match, elevate, or even dampen my mood. Sometimes if I listen to the wrong song for the state I'm in it gets really uncomfortable and everything feels so jumbled up - it's better to stick to what's familiar.

New Bucket List

 1. Study abroad, right now I'm thinking Italy. Spain or Ireland would also be nice.

2. Make a painting that really means something. Talia suggested a "Picasso-esque portrait of lesbians" but I don't care too much for Picasso.

3. Write some songs for myself so I can record and release a tape. My biggest influence so far is Liz Phair's Girly Sound Tapes, but I'm sure I'll find some more inspiration in other places.

4. Write like my life depends on it, until I come up with enough for a whole book about nothing.

5. Think of no one but myself.

6. Have a cup of tea, to make my head stop spinning.

On Me as an Artist

I never really considered myself as an "artist" until pretty recently. Until then I was just someone who did art. yes, I have other creative hobbies such as writing, playing guitar. But they were never anything more than that, and I would've never considered them to be in the realm of art. I'm not sure why the switch happened. Everything basically started changing once I read Joan Didion and picked up a journal for my English class. My reinterest in reading peaked again during my senior year while I was taking AP Lit. My writing interest peaked during that summer when I started Seether. Visual art was always harder to come by. The past 4 years I had been making art out of necessity, in order to complete assignments and get a grade. The pieces I made were meaningless beyond the surface level purpose of being for class. But I guess all that really started to change once I introduced myself to Patti Smith.

I mean, she was everything. Artist, writer, musician, fashionable in the way I like, spiritual, everything I strove to be. That on top of the fact that the new art class I was taking helped give me a new perspective on the art I could be making. I began to see art through an intellectual realm, through an emotional one as well. Art was something you could put your whole self into, and others could put all of themselves into and the whole world could feel as one.

I wanted art to be me. I felt an insatiable urge to make things and share them with everyone. I started making videos, montages really. I carried around my little camera with me, anxious to capture everything.

A Walk in the Park

I ditched my classes on Friday to go to the Met. I saw paintings of the Virgin Mary and thought about how she gave birth to Jesus. And what had I been doing?

Overwhelmed and upset, I took a walk in the part where I stumbled upon a man with 6 dogs of the same breed. I asked to take a photo, and the man said yes. I went on walking and didn't think about anything at all.

But I was so sad. You can never seem to escape that feeling until you do, and then you feel stupid for ever feeling it at all. I felt like crying and crying and I would've liked to scream because I felt lost and like my life had no direction and nothing was ever going my way. And I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing and I don't know what I want and I just want someone to answer me. I want someone to have an answer and it didn't feel like even God had an answer. Or maybe I just don't know what I'm asking. 

Wasted Affairs - Mind's Eye

Mia told me about this song.

"When my talking stage didn't work out and I was sad I listened to this," she said. "Sorry if you think it' so stupid and dumb."

I listened to the song, and it wasn't stupid or dumb at all. 

Talia and I have been really into Eve Babitz. Of course, she read LA Woman before me because she gets to everything cool before me, and I only just finished it on Saturday. It's still nice to go through this together. Joan Didon is another strong favorite. We're both supposed to be reading A Book of Common Prayer right now but I'm not sure if she is, since she already read it before me (because she gets to everything cool before me). Eve understands being a girl and LA while Joan Didion understands New York and the chaos of life, despite being from California herself. Virginia Woolf seems to understand all the little bits in between.

It's January and we've just gotten our first snow that stuck, only it didn't stay long enough to be remembered. I always liked January winters better than December ones. December winters feel like the end of the world while January feels like the beginning of a new one. In December I tend to focus on my past and dreadful present, while in January all I can think about is my future. But soon enough Spring will come, and I will forget that there was ever snow, despite it being piled on the ground for weeks. 

On Why You Should Start a Blog

Because it's freakin awesome. Gives you something to do. Share your ideas and take in the ideas of others. Why doomscroll Instagram when you could doomscroll the Izzy Star 6000? No rules, no one in your ear telling you your writing is bad. No one cares. Do what you want.

On Squirrels

 A squirrel hopped the fence. Off it goes, prancing into the middle of the field. I think it's searching for something. There he goes, digging around in the dirt, sniffing, searching I look away for a second and he's back over the fence.

And he's reappeared! He perks up and - oh! A second squirrel comes running right into him. My first friend jumps up, startled. A third squirrel joins the party. My first friend is still searching.

And the leaves are falling. it's 2:53 and the leaves are falling as a bee looks me in the eye and winks - what?

... and the leaves are falling as a bee looks me in the eye and... buzzes away happily.

Three ladies found my friend. They stand around and watch him dig. Do they know I'm watching too? A fourth squirrel hops the fence. It seems those are the only things squirrels know how to do, hop fences and dig for acorns. A father carrying his child points to my friend. So far, I've seen five dogs. Why don't people walk their cats? A man stares as he walks by.

The two squirrels have a staring contest while chowing down on an acorn, or at lease - what I assume to be an acorn. Maybe they found a nice steak?

And it's someone's birthday. I mean, that was a given (obviously) but now I know for sure that it's someone's birthday because of what was written on the balloons she gave him.

Six, seven, eight more dogs pass by. The sixth one spots my friend, and he stands still to point at it. His owner very kindly lets him into the grass, inching closer and closer to my friend. They have another staring contest, my friend is on high alert as the dog goes running! Get away! Get away from him! My friend runs up a tree, safe in the branches. A ninth dog goes by. Many families are out today.

A little brown bird hops in front of me but then flies away when someone approaches. I'm sitting on the bench marked "Sandy G, a man for all seasons; loved by his family; all year long."

And a 10th dog goes by

And all the squirrels are gone.