So last night, after seemingly weeks of toiling and frustration, I finally wrote a song. It came together rather quickly once I got started. I haven't put it to music yet, but I'm toying with some strange chords in my head. I realized yesterday that I'm having such a hard time with writing music because nothing around here inspires me. Well nothing obviously inspires me. I've found that I'm having to search harder and harder for subject matter and ideas. It's hard when each day is the same as the day before and lacks any originality. So I'm trying to find things in the monotony that becomes poignant or just stick out to me. The song is called Flatters Benjamin which was a word verification I had yesterday. I got three song ideas from word verifications now. But alas, it's very hard to be mediocre when you want very dearly to be brilliant. I'm sure every musician feels this way, the sinking doubt that anyone will ever want to hear your crap, much less buy it, the dread at the things you work so hard on being critiqued, the hopeless admiration of other musicians who are nothing but pure genius. I wonder how those geniuses (I know that's not the proper form. I took Latin in high school and college) deal with all this, or do they really think they are all that and a bag of chips? I hope not, because I'd like to think they weren't arrogant like that. I'd like to think that they are really tortured souls, who write to hide and heal the pain, who think they are nothing and will never live up to their own silly ideas of what their music should be. I think to a degree all artists are like this. We all strive to be genius and tortured and some of us just aren't genius. Maybe I should stop trying to write pain filled music. I mean I'm not a generally depressed person. Blah. I don't know. Maybe it'll come to me after some more coffee. Have a wonderful weekend. Expect some changes next week and a shop update Sunday. I may even post a vlog...
April 24, 2009
She Flatter's Benjamin
Today: I know this isn't an exact replication of the above, but it's as close as I could muster. It's chilly this morning and overcast. I hope it lasts, I can't handle much more of these 90 and triple digit days.
Brooch- Magpie (Portland, Or.)
Drug Mule Belt- Thrifted (will be explained below)
Shoes- Buffalo Exchange (Portland, Or.)
"You look like a London model." Shawn the crazy office lady
I like how my hand looks like some evil claw. Yesterday Grace and I were goofing around and she told me we were going to play a game and my name was going to be "Evil Girl" and she was going to be "Super Villain Girl" (yes she said villain). I told her that if she was a villain and I was evil, we were really the same person because villains are evil. She nodded and said "yes, positive to positive." Then I told her she was sneaking out of the house at night to go to genius school and she told me she couldn't do that because she doesn't "have that stinkin' driver's license yet." She's strange.
I liked my pose here, but the picture's crap, but look how clean my room's looking! It's still not done, but soon.... I changed from the belt above to the one in the pictures above at the last minute. The one I'm wearing I like to call my drug mule belt. There is a zipper on the inside that opens up the belt so you can slide something in it. Like pure china white, or something. Remind me not to wear this to any airports anytime soon.