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I understand the stop-at-whatever-catches-your-eye style of visiting museums and galleries but it makes me sad to see people rush through. The real joy of art is the breakthrough that occurs after engaging with a made thing. Some helpful questions to ask: -What is the title of the piece and how does it relate it what I see? -Why did I stop/hurry past? -Why is it here? Does it belong to the space or to a theme? -What does it allow me to do/see/think/play with?
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There's a thing that I notice at art museums sometimes. Someone wearing a slightly annoyed expression will be speeding through the exhibit like they are going down a long to do list. Or I'll be playing a board game with a group and there will be some guy with a strained face looking like they'd rather be anywhere else. Maybe another time we're leaving a movie and they start to complain about how it 'wasn't realistic', you get the picture. I swear to God it makes me want to pulpify their face. I'm not saying that you need to like every piece of art or that you should feel bad for not liking a movie, but, goddamn, at least give it a fucking second. Closing yourself off to The New, being automatically opposed to earnestness when it appears, is one of the most damaging defense mechanisms I can think of. It is, in turn, also one of the best ways to maximize your misery. The defense mechanism that is cynicism, turns its users into parasites of the Social; they are sold the idea (a lie) that damaging and denigrating <<something>> allows one to become independent of its power structure. On the contrary, just as a leech is the most dependent on its host, cynics are those that are most dependent on the power structures in our culture.  I really want to emphasize the difference between criticism and cynicism, because I am in no way saying that we should not criticize bad or damaging art, but to successfully criticize something means to first buy in, to really allow yourself to be taken by a piece, to examine it as it comes. Buying in as a term (even one so bathed in capitalist sebum) is the right one in this case because to buy in requires one to make a sacrifice. You cannot experience art without opening yourself to the possibility that it will do damage to you. To fully allow yourself to be moved by a piece of art is to allow yourself to be cut.  But inside that cut is what it means to be human. I think the single best way to combat cynicism is an unceasing curiosity of the world and the people in it. The normal and common of this world is absolutely fantasmatic if you take a moment to examine it; we see the world through have fluid filled orbs made of meat for fucks sake. The fact that there is anything at all, the fact that you and I exist for even a second is an absolutely unbelievable mind fuck, and to be unimpressed by any and everything doesn’t make you special or better than anyone, it just leaves you on a road to the pit of despair and leaves me really bummed out for the rest of the night.
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i make things as a hobby, whether it be bits of music, awful drawings, writing, whatever, and i find that i work best after admiring others’ art. maybe it inspires me, maybe it’s just how things work in my head, but i feel that art, or any sort of creation, comes from creation, and so, it‘s ALRIGHT to use something else as a reference point, or rather, consume something before you create!! i like just sitting with something for a while, eventually something pops into my mind and gets my thoughts going. sitting with an instrument and messing around makes it easier to make something up, or scribbling makes it easier to think of what to draw. also, doing what’s best for you, whether that be taking ages to come up with an idea, and even longer to see it through, or making lots in a small amount of time. YOU do whatever is best for YOU, and probably your sanity. just generally loll have a lovely day slayyyy 💕
Oct 29, 2024
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i feel like it’s this constant debate but the thing is? there’s millions of artists/musicians/etc out there, so i find when you want to hold on so tightly to someone, you’re closing yourself off from other artists that could be similar or way cooler but not a terrible person obviously there’s a distinction between a faux pas, mistakes before growth, or being deeply consistently horrible, but i absolutely think that’s a distinction worth making… we only have so much time on this earth, and our time to consume art and music and film and literature is fleeting, so i’d rather spend it on the works of people who have earnestly made the world a more beautiful place and exploring art to find those !
May 20, 2024

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No screen Sundays. If I want to listen to music its CDs or radio. If I want to watch a movie, no I don’t. If I want to see a friend, I will make plans with them on Friday or Saturday to meet up. As a result, I read more, write more, and sit with questions like “did Citizen Kane‘s 50 year winning streak in the Sight and Sound critics choice survey end in 2012 or 2022? When did Stephen Merritt come out? Whats the etymology of Whitsun?“ This is something that I have practiced off and on for many years but I’ve been doing it every week since December and I love the way that it just allows me one day of true freedom and rest.
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My calendar this year has 52 of these week at a glance pages but I don’t think that way. So, I've been inspired by Ross Gay’s Book of Delighs to start recording the little moments and sensations that bring me joy throughout the day. An analog pi.fyi, if you will. heres some of what I have so far: - Waking up to the sound of my upstairs neighbor‘s footstep. It sounded nostalgic. Felt like company. - Strawberry jam - feeling tender for strangers: their lips, nail colors, their small wrists. Thinking of all the lives we hold gently. - A young girl bought an LP at the bookstore just before I left. She stroked its cover with love - Green tiles —the mint shade always makes me think of Jancie - Charlie’s little bop and punch dancing to some German language punk - lunch with Katherine, curry Brussels sprouts - small talk at the photo studio. The photographer's brother was named after their dad, stole his identity, bought jet skis.