“…it gets messy in application.” December 18, 2007

Where is boundary between taking a chance and being completely insane?

I walked around the streets of South Beach today realizing that my motto lately is beginning to really depress me.

“Everything is romantic in theory.”

It bothers me how true this is except for rare occasions. Driving home from Orlando I knew instantly that the past few days was a rare occasion where the application was equally romantic. But was it because I had no expectations going into it?

How do you take a chance on something when you really have nothing to lose in the first place? While walking, I thought about how I have absolutely nothing holding me down and I could do just about anything I wanted. My carefree attitude and love for experiencing has afforded me the pleasant surprise of impulsivity. But taking a chance… that’s a planned impulse which requires a whole slew of life changes.

“Love is hard now a days.”

And that theory is both romantic and incredibly doomed.

I Make Things. December 17, 2007

It’s no secret that I’m a craft-junkie–I’m always looking to learn some new skills and figure out how to re-use things. Bre Pettis seems to be of the same school, with an added interest in tech culture. I’ve spent the last two evenings going through his blog-based website, Imakethings.com, and watching his funny and informative project video blogs.  You can learn how to do everything from making your own fangs to creating a one-speed (!) bike.   Bre is an artist as well. Be sure to check out his Pink Bunny puppet videos on brepettis.com.  Almost as adorable as he is!

Is that Jadakiss or is that Tim Fite? November 29, 2007

I’m a little bummed that Tim Fite doesn’t have any current west coast dates on his tour right now.  Other lucky folks get him and My Brightest Diamond, all in one luscious night. I’ve started to fall (a little bit…only a little bit, I promise!) in love with him. Take a look at his website–little pen and ink sketches that make up stories, his “gunshow” which is comprised of mini movies, and, oh yeah, clever songs about bumping outside Wal-Mart. The particular clever songs that make up his second album “Over the Counter Culture” can be downloaded for free at his website. Tim has been compared a lot to Beck, but I wonder is that’s the white-dude-in-a-suit that seems so obvious. Perhaps an homage to Steve Martin? Catch me, I’m falling.  Either way, it’s a compliment to both of them.  And be sure to check out Tim’s kooky blogs over at his myspace.    Tim also has a band with Danielle Stech Homsy called The Water Island.  Jangalang:www.myspace.com/timfitewww.timfite.com www.myspace.com/thewaterisland    

Macabre; Part i November 17, 2007

“When you shiver, it means someone is walking over your grave.” Your future grave. That’s what my grandma tells me.

I don’t believe in graves. What a waste of space. Bodies building our foundation we stand and live on. Macabre.

But its the macabre I can’t get enough of. It’s what gets me excited and out of bed in the mornings. “What if something strange happens today?”

Let’s distill this. It’s not the grave or even death. Its the unknown, intangible, unlikely, obscene sense of familiarity robbed that is what shrouds our perceptions to the limits in which they reside.

I want my ashes scattered over Kensington Gardens in London. I want the ducks to swim among them and grass to grow over them. I want to be a part of a place where my soul resides. I stepped my foot on that soil and like a magnet, I’ve never left that pull. My fibre belongs there. All over that ground. I wouldn’t be still in the ground, I’d be allowed movement and continual exploration. I would get picked up and stepped on by many people and become a part of them.

And, consequently, I shiver a lot.

“I’m so fucking beautiful.” November 17, 2007

When I was 15, I read a a book about what was dubbed as “girl culture”. It was a very important time for me–riot grrrl had just reared it’s head and I was off and running. One of the interviews in that book was with a woman named Nomy Lamm.

Nomy blew my adolescent mind. She wrote a fat-positive zine called “I’m so fucking beautiful” and the very idea of body acceptance was something that I was forced to confront. When you are a female teen, feeling good about your body and voicing that feeling is both unusual and eyebrow raising. I don’t know that I ever ended up feeling comfortable with my body, but Nomy showed me that it was something worth working towards.

Fast forward to now, and Nomy’s much more than an activist zine writer (which, by the way, is more than enough!). She’s transformed herself into a pop star of sorts, writing music and performing, as well as composing for performances, and also had a column at Punk Planet. She was recognized as one of Ms’ magazine’s Women of the Year, gives lectures on college and university campuses, and puts together “Phat Camp” workshops.

Nomy describes herself as “fat-ass bad-ass Jew dyke amputee”. I bow down, and just call her amazing.

Nomy’s website, which is loaded with her projects and a blog: www.nomylamm.com

Evidence of My Existence. November 15, 2007

I stumbled across this piece on Media Storm–a website where multimedia and video projects thrive in the world of photojournalism. Lately I have become more and more interested in watching personal stories told by people in my profession, I guess because I am embarking on one myself right now–so I am seeking out as much inspiration as possible.

This piece is the visual companion to Jim Lo Scalzo’s memoir in which he briefly recounts his life as a photojournalist, traveling constantly, but sacrificing the family and personal life he now knows he needs. The piece is amazing and strong, but what sticks out to me the most is the way he describes Antarctica. I can almost feel myself there.

He speaks about his life and his travels so much more eloquently than I ever could.  Watch it, and soak it all in:

(click on the image to watch the video)

“That talk is poison.” November 14, 2007

I heard Brendan Fowler about a year ago, when he was touring with his spoken word/improvisional jazz group, BARR. I was instantly hooked, and did as any excited obsessive is wont to do, and researched him. Turns out he has been in a few other bands (one with ex-Le Tigre member/current dj and crush, JD Samson). This year he made the move from LA to New York, and is currently working on a band called Car Clutch, along with a blog (the very one that inspired Jilling Off, in fact!) shared with Ed Templeton and Aaron Rose.

Sarcasm! Honesty! Stephen Malkmus references! I’m in.

This is only the tip of the iceberg. Brendan’s other projects are forces to be reckoned with. Homeboy doesn’t mess around.

Check out Brendan at barrbarr.com.

Meta* November 14, 2007

“We are a part of a generation called the Millennials. Have you heard of that?” I asked my class of 18-20 years this morning in my Intro to Soc discussion section. Andrew was sitting straight up sleeping with his mouth open and Meagan was grasping onto her purse waiting for me to set the class free. They all looked vacant, unmotivated and uninspired.

“OK, well, let me put it to you this way… we are a generation of self-praising, self-agrandizing, nearly intolerable, short-attention spanned Lost Boys never wanting to grow up. Do you agree?” I asked, preying someone would at least show a sign of life.

“Fine. You have no opinion. You have no thoughts swimming in your head except for the fact that it’s 8:30 and you want to go back to sleep. So, I’ll just leave you with this thought: We are the generation of Meta. OK, bye.” And I let them go. I was disappointed. Here I was clearly highlighting our generation’s main struggle. Our “meta-ness”, our inability to commit to anything beyond our current scope. Maybe they are still too young to fully acknowledge the emotional, societal and philosophical murk we’ve been left to trudge through to make it to the Emerald City of “adulthood”. Illustrious, mythical adulthood.

That’s where I’m at. I stand in the pinnacle of both self-awareness and utter self-confusion. I’m aware of my confusion and conversly, aware of my inabilities to progress. This compass is out of control. My talisman that is the key to adulthood is slippery, transparent and requires passwords of great wisdom, yet humility.

And this is the beauty of this point in time. The sheer Meta-ness. I’m saying everything, yet nothing at all. I often say as I writer, I find myself both inspired and wholly frustrated at the impossibility of complete mind-to-word translation. I just said a lot of things, yet it talking about thinking about things.

Meta.

Nothingness.

Gets you no where practically. Meta-ness is useful in only getting you deeper into the foggy, epistemic murk.

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test November 14, 2007

Testiiinnggg yo