Grow, grow, grow
Think think think.
Think think.
Think think think think. Think. Think.
My entire life is under consideration. I’m considering, but reaching very few conclusions.
tiny timemachine a bit crap, really
We always did feel the same
I always loved those wide young-Bob-Dylan-grins, and I am missing yours, I am missing yours. And you can tell in those faces when a smile is about to break through, how it’s pulling on the corners of their mouths wanting to escape like a tiger in a cage. But the tiger’s all outside and the inside, well, I don’t know about that but maybe that need to break free is all an act. Still. I miss that tiger smile, I do.
Kat Flint's Dirty Birds on 7Digital. (Secret Boys' Club EP available on TuneTribe.) (0)
Suzanne Vega on Tom's Diner, remixing and mp3s. (via MeFi) "Also, 17 years? Fuck. More years have passed in my life since Nevermind than before Nevermind. Weird." It's been 17 years since Nevermind, which, indeed, is weird. (0)
Oh JOY
I finally puzzled out the pw to my Metafilter-account (it’s been dormant since, oh, 2002 or thereabouts). It was easy! In a way. Nice to see you, logged-in-mefi.
Still here
It’s been a quiet few days. I’ve been thinking. And thinking. And then I’ve been thinking some more.
I’m not happy in my current job. It’s not related to the job itself, I think — it’s about money, it’s about me. I’ve never been motivated by money, but I have to be able to live on what I make, and I don’t, right now. If I didn’t have someone to split the costs with (and we don’t split fifty-fifty, at the mo) I wouldn’t be able to have the life I do.
And over the last six to eight months independence have become really important to me. Not because I am going anywhere, but because I am an adult and completely my own responsibility — and if something were to happen, I am not sure I would be all that happy to downgrade my standard of living.
I don’t want a lot. I just want enough.
So. I’m applying for jobs. And quitting when I find one. Which makes me very excited, and very sad.
If we get lucky we’ll be dead by dawn
I woke up no less than four times last night, every time convinced I was late for work. A particularly terrible way to jolt awake, and waking is hardly pleasurable to begin with. I am not, as a rule, afraid of oversleeping — it barely ever happens and when it does, well, what can I do? I’ve overslept and now everyone else must wait for me, but that’s the same for everyone. Whenever something happens beyond our control (somehow didn’t wake up when one should’ve, got awful debilitating disease overnight, etc.) everyone else adjusts — what else could we possibly do? And on the few occasions I have actually overslept, I’ve usually not slept so long as to have to answer a phone from my boss half-asleep and confused, but woken up a bit late, and only a little bit wtf and with time to phone work and inform them I have not yet fully emerged into day and so they should expect me later. Like a butterfly. Only — I mean exclusively – when I wrongfully think I have overslept will I experience that shock of panic.
Of course I understand that when I wake up four times in one night thinking I’ve overslept, I am not sleeping well and so something else is also wrong, and when I actually sleep hours beyond my alotted time I am really sleeping quite soundly and so I’m better equipped for facing a minor screw-up, but nnngh.
Tiny twittermachine 2008-09-19
- I am glad I am off LJ. Sheesh. #
I am a little black raincloud
- Martial arts? Oh god, they are so unbearably dull. To watch and, presumably, to study. So many of them are zen-ish and buddhism? Distilled boredom, is my theory. It’s not so much hard work to liberate oneself from material society as it is becoming deadly bored and distracted and sort of forgetting everything about everything and floating away. Martial arts? Same. I really couldn’t care less about Bruce Lee, kung fu or Kill Bill 75.
- For the last few years, but only when wearing specs rather than contacts, I’ve had — well, I’d almost say attacks as in “Martians attacking!” — of extremely sore eyes. Torrential tears, redness, intense stinging. For a while I believed it was mascara-related, but it’s not. I have no idea. It’s annoying, people always think I am terminally depressed and possibly having some kind of psychotic break.
- Harper’s opened up their archive of DFW. Try The Depressed Person to ruin your weekend.
Booklust
I was completely unaware of the below-linked new German film — I am not that up-to-date on German cinema (unless we’re talking Herzog), and immediately checked out the reissue situation concerning Stefan Aust’s wonder of a book (Der Baader-Meinhof Komplex). And, not that surprisingly but brilliant nevertheless, it’s out in movie tie-in paperback in December! I’ve read it in German, a language I — strictly speaking — don’t read, and liked it but obviously missed quite a bit, and an English language edition (out of print since sometime prior to the birth of baby Jesus) costs a lot more than I would ever be willing to give for a book. Until this little paperback thing comes out, of course.
I am so full of yay! And here’s my wishlist. Completely unrelated, of course.
Same old same old
I am in a horrible mood.
Tiny twittermachine 2008-09-15
- I miss DFW :( #
Relatives with chainsaws
My relatives hate trees.
This causes quite a bit of conflict in my not-so-immediate family. My family members all adore trees — so do I! — but our relatives hate them, and seeing as we all share a little vacation spot by the sea, we disagree disagree disagree on the tree situation.
We own a few hundred metres of pretty coast line, dotted with slabs and rocks, little beaches, grass and trees. Apple trees, plum trees, pear trees, cherries, birch, pine, fir, hazel, oak. Beautiful. And my relatives keep cutting them down!
The last victim is an eighty year old lovely cherry tree. It blossomed in spring, it bore fruit in summer, it was healthy and tall and wonderful, blocked no-one’s view — it was a wonderful tree that did nothing wrong, but my relatives are like the Hitler of trees, they hate them all, they want them all gone and they are willing to use any excuse: the furthering of humankind, world peace, cheaper volkswagens.
I miss my tree.
Tiny twittermachine 2008-09-12
- Sitting in a summer kitchen by the sea. Nice. Stormy. Dark. #
It’s almost Friday! Hail Satan!
- Today I came home covered in blood. I seriously looked like a serial killer.
- I am wearing a pair of bootcut jeans for the first time in forever. It’s nice.
- I wrote a rather lengthy email concerning my cats today. It was titled “About my cats” and the recipient is two and a half. It included lots of interesting facts about my cats, like how they have their own toilet and how one is fat and the other one is skinny, as well as pictures.
Tiny twittermachine 2008-09-10
- Brrrr. I want to go back to bed. Possibly a mistake to go to bed to begin with. #
But then again
Other aspects of Being An Artist I’ve got down perfectly: I am laughably broke.
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