Lifts like red clouds. Parts. I wake up in a frothing rage. The bad taste of cusswords in my mouth when I got out of bed. I brush my teeth and I forgive and I decide to chill out. I'm exhausted. I was up all last night having so much fun at the East Village Boys party at the Hose and got too little sleep and I guess I'm cranky.
Or something. I feel like my skin is made out of onion skin or something. I need to toughen up.
On my way to work this morning I actually thought about writing this blog post because I was thinking of making a list of all the nasty things people say about me behind my back. Either real things that people say (on the internet too) or things that I imagine people might say about me. I thought "Maybe I should make a list, afterward, of all the positive things too, just to be fair" but then I couldn't think of any nice thing that anyone would ever say about me. Or, I couldn't think of anything nice about me that I couldn't explain away. So I guess that sort of illustrates a bigger problem in itself and then again no one wants to read the list of all the nasty things I could imagine about myself. S'boring.
And then I was walking to work and I got a really good idea for part of a song. And even though probably no one, or a number between no one and twenty people will ever hear this, it makes me feel really good. Mood lifted. List dispelled. I feel a lot better.
"If you stick to your work it will take care of you somehow." -- Kiki Smith
I want to talk, again, about when I was a junior in college Robin Winters invited me to sit in on one of his classes. I had taken his course as a sophomore and again as a senior, but this time he just asked me to come to class, which was held around dinnertime. Kiki Smith was the guest lecturer, and when I arrived she was holding court over chinese food. Everyone was mesmerized and she was gorgeous and sweet and very down-to-earth. She did a presentation of her work from a slide machine. She wouldmove through the slides, some of which were fuzzy bluury upside down or missing, talking about various projects she had done, and her philosophy on art. It was maybe one of the more inspiring / 'turning point' moments in my life. She was clicking through images of nearly iconic images, and talking about when and how she felt inspired. She said that sometimes she would worry that she was done. That she'd never make another piece of art, that she'd never have another idea. "Then," she said "then, later, I usually do. So it's okay." That was really cool. I am trying, in the middle of a very funkadelic funk, to hold on to this and try to record some backing tracks on Saturday afternoon. We'll see.