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The Californist [29 Jan 2016|09:40am]
I'm writing over here now: californist.com
Get distracted

[08 Nov 2013|12:50pm]
Jesus fucking christ, how long has it been.
2 Distractions| Get distracted

[22 Jun 2011|01:48pm]
Nothing quite like meeting someone you've been dying to meet because you just KNOW you're going to hit it off and probably really, really like them (of course the other way around also). Then you get to finally meet and you discover that person is a boring, self-absorbed asshole.

It's just one of those refreshing little moments of spectacular.

Annnnnnnd, you're off the list.
1 Distraction| Get distracted

[15 May 2011|03:35pm]
I have an idea.

You know how right now there's a trend in music: the free exchange of songs, albums and ideas? The benevolent acceptance of all our interconnection. Now that the internet has been around for some time, we are collectively seeing the value of the interconnection. How creative trends are spawned and spread around the world. How being remarkable has a global implication. Just like creating a viral video, one can create a viral design. Something that can be used to inspire and burgeon from further, to build upon. What if we did that for the world of architecture and building design.

The internet has brought with all of its practical implication a new era of free idea exchange. This idea exchange has rippled throughout all the arts, from print media and writing, to painting and photography, to music and movies. People are taking their creativity and giving it away. Everyone benefits from the altruism. The world is better when we create, add it to the creative salad bowl online, and option the world to seek it out.

The idea needs a simple ingredient, one that's difficult to achieve, but necessary to move society. The ingredient Seth Godin describes as "remarkable." It cuts through criticism, filters and corporate sway. Being remarkable, creating something remarkable, is what we yield when we send links to each other, when we get on-board with new creativity, intellectualism and philosophy. Remarkable is docile, unknowing, cuts through the feeble and acknowledges the audience--dumb and educated--rises above and awaits just scrutiny.

Everything improves when we all have access, freely. We mutually benefit from the exchange of creativity and collective inspiration. We learn and find ways the alter ideas, make them better, make them worse-briefly, but ultimately find another way to improve the idea until there's nothing left to do other than start fresh and create something new.

Now, turning to one of the most expensive things a person can create for himself, building a home, shouldn't escape the thrust of creative freedom.

Design software can be downloaded freely. Construction and architectural textbooks and design manuals can be downloaded freely. Anyone may choose to learn anything for free and become an expert any field. This is a product to the idea and information renaissance.

The idea is simple, to create a website to harvest, store and catalog (for free) that creativity. To bridge the gap and offer everyone the capacity to create a place to live and share that exciting edifice with eager peers.

Think of the creative implications. Think of the unbridled design and engineering resurgence. It will drive a new world of design, infusing the places where we feel the most strength and comfort, our homes, fostering new challenging designs and opening dialogs about inspiration, form, sustainability and building conscious structures that exist in parallel to their environment.

We start small and go from there.
Get distracted

[02 Apr 2011|11:26am]
Human beings doing amazing things.
Get distracted

[07 Feb 2011|08:28pm]
The kind of depression I feel these days, although fleeting, is kind of fake to most people. These days I am mostly filled with insecurity about the relationships I have with people in my life.

I know that the root of the problem for most people is that I have the self-doubt, that it has manifested itself as a self-fulfilling prophecy. I think things will go poorly, so they do. Then I act surprised when they do.

I am so good at visualizing myself doing things because I'm in control of what I do, I'm in control of how serious I can take my life experiences. What I'm not in control over is how my words/actions are perceived, and I'm not in control over the level of which people care about me.

I love when people care for me. If there's one thing that I have lost in the past three years it's people from my life. Part of it is because I've gotten more adult-job oriented and I just haven't had the time to forge the necessary bridges to keep people in my life at an important, attentive level. Another problem is that I think I've changed. Probably for the better in some ways, probably for the worse in others.

More than anything else, I'm putting too many expectations on people. I hate that I'm doing that, almost subconsciously out of my control. I know that isn't totally true and I'm probably making an excuse for myself, I'm sure deep down I can control that. I'm sure that I can stop the pressure I put on other people if I really focused on the things I say. I need to do more of that. Because where I see myself in the end of this academic goal I've set for myself is a lonely place. Yeah, I'll have money. But that isn't what matters in life. I discovered a few years ago that the meaning of life are people and experiences. I also believe that an element of the the "experience" side is finding something of more importance than oneself and then dedicating a significant portion of ones life to improving that thing.

Sometimes I wish I could just ask everyone around me who's leaving my life if that assessment is for sure--do I put too much pressure on the relationships in my life? Is that my problem with fucking things up with those around me? I really hope it is, I can fix this. I don't want to waste energy trying to fix something that really isn't the problem. The last shit load of entries have been super fucking emo bullshit. What gives? What's up with all this inward looking crap? The funny thing is that I post this garbage to livejournal because I know nobody will read it here. It's like a haven or something. I can get this crap out of my head and move on with my life. I can fix the parts that need to be fixed. I can do self improvement when I need to mend the parts that need to be mend.

And I can move on. And get back to what matters. People and Experiences.
Get distracted

[02 Feb 2011|10:25pm]
What matters most, more than anything else, is that you don't give a shit what other people think. And if you like something and it doesn't like you back, move the fuck on.
1 Distraction| Get distracted

[01 Feb 2011|08:46am]
When I meet a woman, hear about her ex's and discover that none of them are friends, much less people in her life still able to communicate with on a platonic level, I get skeptical about her ability to be a suitable girlfriend. Usually, when a person hates his or her ex's it's a sign the person is unstable.

Adults recognize that relationships come and go, just like friendships. However, unlike friendships, relationships hold a different kind of place in our lives, one that is usually impossible to remove from our conscience. I think most people can't forget how an era is earmarked by a relationship. I know that different times in my life I've had relationships that were suitable matches for the challenges and personal changes I went through.

Hating ones ex's is like hating oneself. Unless it was a nuclear downfall, we shouldn't be ashamed that our relationship went astray. Anyway, so that's why I say that it's a red flag when a person isn't--even on a platonic level--casual acquaintances with his or her ex's. I might be saying this only because I have a lot of ex's.

The point I'm trying make isn't to convince myself that I need to be friends with the world--including my ex's. But when a person hates people in their life or believes those around are crazy, typically it's the person, himself, who has the problem. I recognize this. As far as I can tell, I don't have any enemies. I mean, I still have some disjointedness with one or two of my ex's, but those I assume will re-establish in a year or so.

I remember when M and I were seeing each other and I'd make trips down to Santa Barbara regularly to hang out and go on dates. I miss those days because I frankly was too school for college when I was seeking my bachelors. I never really had an opportunity to have the college experience because I was working a shit load of jobs and trying to be responsible and make up time, considering all that I lost trying to figure out what path I wanted to go down academically.

I wasted a lot of time. I admit it. I also grew from those experiences and I also have a large body of general knowledge, which might actually be obsolete now that we all carry smart phones in our pockets.

You can't make people like you, let alone love you. It has the exact opposite effect, in fact. If you even try to get people to love you, consider the target a lost cause. That sort of manipulation will not only backfire, it'll backfire so badly you'll arrive at a lonely place before you realize what the hell happened.

I have one of those ENFJ personality types--"The Teacher." I remember when I was in high school and I took the Myer and Briggs personality test and I had the same personality type then, as well. It surprises me that over 10 years my personality hasn't changed more. I mean, if there's anything that has altered in my personality it's that I've become less of an extrovert than I used to be. Part of the reason for the setting introversion is because, well, I think it's Denzel Washington in American Gangster who summed it up best, "The loudest one in the room is the weakest." That, and I'm getting to place in my life where I'm realizing that being the talkative one typically means being the annoying one. Besides, it's never a good decision to be that open with everyone. I don't like and I know most people don't like the guy who (pretends to be) on a first name basis with the world. It's a feeble and shallow point of view.

I am too self aware. I need to work on giving less of damn about my place in the world. I think about it too much. I think about how my actions and words are being interpreted by those around me far too much. It's not as much the level of insecurity as it reads. I mean, we're all insecure. I just don't like to come off as an intimidating person. I think there's far too much intimidation in the world. I like to be warm, loyal and reliable.

That's another thing I don't understand, I might have the busiest schedule of anyone I know (maybe not E) but I still find the time to be as loyal and available as I can for those around me. Almost to a sacrificial point, like I'll try and set aside responsibilities to be there for people. But inevitably, it seems like those loyalties get misinterpreted into something else and then the relationship spoils.

I've been feeling really lonely recently. I haven't a clue why. I need to stop trying so hard in public when I'm meeting people. I'm not fun to be around when I'm like that. Hell, I probably ought to be less self-aware, less self conscious. We all could use more of that.

Sometimes I daydream about my life going to shit over night. I've been meeting a lot of people whose life stories scare the hell out of me. The kind where the person has gotten a DUI and it changed their life for the worse, sending them on a self destructive downward spiral. You know, like, losing their license, job, moving in with the parents again and starting over down an unsettling path. It's scary to hear stories of people not going anywhere with their lives. I've always had some kind of path. It led me to the tree house, my cushy City job and ultimately my independence.

But I think about the "what-if..." scenario playing out for me, where I do lose my job, house and school. What I would do in that situation. I'd probably do something brazen like move on a lark. I'd relocate to somewhere like New Zealand or Portland (I know, random). I would do this because I have nothing to lose. It boils down to the safe road not actually accomplishing anything; so with that loss of the security comes the loss of a fundamental philosophy on life.

I envy those people who have long standing friendships and personal loyalties. The kind of friendship that has been established over decades of experiences. I wish I had that.

It's really strange getting older, especially when you view yourself as one of those people who doesn't have any enemies. I remember in high school I knew everyone. Cut to college and all the warranted isolation that college brings (because we're working, homeworking, going on different non-linear paths in college) and you get this removal of the ground underfoot. You lose a huge base of friends. Some of them go away entirely because they move and get married. Others go away because you leave them behind, ones ambition outpaces the other and the distance between is foregone.

And it's not like I want to be married or something. I like the way I've settled into my late twenties. I'm finally independent, dealing with my problems on my own terms and how I perceive the solutions. I don't want to be married right now, but I also don't want to be alone. I see people around me with groups of loyal friends and I get jealous. I wish I had people in my life that I could call and hang out on any whim and not have the moment be something forced or awkward.

Sometimes I think it'd be easier to live the typical emotionally detached male role. One who doesn't need anyone and doesn't feel like there's anything to prove. I think those people have a mysterious interpersonal magnetism. They are completely stable, monolithic and predictable. Yikes, that almost implies I'm unstable, which totally isn't true. Although, I think my almost unwavering sense of optimism and happiness is suspicious for a lot of people. I don't think people trust happiness or optimism. It's tough for me, in all the shit I've been through over the years the only thing that I've been in control of is how I react, rationalize and cope with the issues I'm facing.

When I graduated from high school I had the reading level of a sixth grader. That's true. I had a brutally difficult and absolutely fantastic childhood (more fantastic than difficult: 80-20% portioning). One that took years to reconcile, but I did and got beyond the bullshit and became a stronger, realistic (not entirely losing my idealistic side) young adult. Then I graduated from high school and my nuclear family (ironically) blew up. Mom went into the hospital. She came out, then dad went in with cancer. Then he came out and mom went back in permanently. I got myself through community college, learned to write all over again, started doing it part time-professionally, then got myself through university, worked three jobs to remain debt free. I bought my car, paid for my own college, got my first real job and pursued going for my masters all with little family support. My friends moved away, some got married, some just left to leave. From being a, as my mother says, "social butterfly" to having to live an extravagantly lonely era that is earmarked with a tawdry list of sordid relationships--there were some amazing ones, nevertheless.

I came to terms with being one of those guys that prepares women to get married. I got to see a bunch of women I was with literally marry the guy (let's be fair, or girl) they dated after me. It fostered self-consciousness. How could it not? The only subtextual thing I was able to muster on a mental level from academia is how being self-aware helps guide ethical and moral decisions. I don't mind being self aware. I like making good impressions, but it comes at a cost. Being self aware makes an individual more susceptible to self conscious introspection. That's the thing I need to lose.

Through all the difficult obstacles I encountered becoming an independent adult post-high school, the personality trait ingrained by my family (specifically my mother) is that an unwavering sense of optimism lowers the robustness of life's obstacles. If that simply means I approach problems with a different point of view, a clearer head, more tolerance--whatever--then that's fine. The point is, positivity and positive emotion beat negative emotion every time. That's a direct quote from Inception, but I honestly can't sum it up any better. I figured that out a long time ago.

But that doesn't prevent optimism from being suspicious to others. And I might also be wrong with my assumption regarding peoples reception to optimism, I think it's ridiculous to assume that people haven't stuck around my life because I'm "too optimistic." There's something inherently "wrong" with me. I put that in quotes because I'm not crazy, but I am desperately curious. If I could place anything as my fault it's that I've almost perpetually been in a relationship since 18. Serious relationships isolate us.

I remember Louis CK has this bit on his show "Louis" where he talks about being married for something like twenty-five years, then suddenly getting divorced and being thrust into world with the rest of the single people. He said that it's like the worst time machine ever, kind of one that works in reverse--the world around stays dynamic and single people stay beautiful--but you wander out of the monogamy bleary-eyed, old, unkempt and overweight, you show your age.

I relate to the bit because I haven't been single--really single for a long stint--in many years. At least a decade. It's completely unusual out here. And there's A LOT to be learned while being single. I have a lot to learn about myself on a psychological level, to cut the false sense of security (it is indeed false) any co-dependencies, irrespective of how much I don't want to believe I have them. Cutting the desperate need to have someone be the security blanket and a depository for concern rather than work through the issues on my own. When you're single for awhile, you learn to navigate the hardships on your own. That's a far more admirable quality than codependency.

It's easy to be in a relationship because there's so much security. Not having to impress the by-standing opposite sex by being confident, cool and collected is tough. I like to be myself all the time. And sometimes that isn't presentable because I feel like a guy who worked 16 hours (because I did). Sometimes I want to expose my biting sense of humor because I've had to be an uptight and tight-lipped professional all day. I need to get back to normal. I need to lose the nonsense self conscious point of view. Stop trying to impress people. I need to be myself 100% of the time, accurately, pointedly and then the rest will fall into place on its own. As it always does. Anyway, I feel like I'm getting off topic and been rambling for awhile. That's the end of this entry.
3 Distractions| Get distracted

[27 Jan 2011|09:05pm]
The thing I love about live journal, the derelict shopping mall that it has become, is that it's a consistent experience. Reminds me of camping or climbing a hill. For whatever abundant joy it provides you can rest assured that it's always going to be there in the same form as the day you found it.

So recently I've been thinking about all the shit that has changed in one year. One year. One-unbelievably-what-the-fuck-happened-to-me-all-of-a-sudden year. One of those. The kind you apparently write about. So I come out of something huge and land squarely in another huge something, then I come out with my hands in my pockets and my back resting against a tree house with a letter of acceptance from Cal Poly bulging from my pocket, sandals on my feet, a new car, family in health dire straights, and an incidental, yet completely necessary new lease on living.

Now I'm doing what I should be doing, fixing myself. Something great and unflinchingly monumental happened to me this past year. I crossed the threshold of responsible young adult into grown ass manhood. Fortunately, the chest hair arrived a decade ago.

But, like all good things, I'm doing my best to keep this all in perspective. This will end some day. All good things have that problem.

The good news is that I won't be going back. I made the transition, leaving childhood, ultimately, in the memory box tucked away as the chapter that it should be. But that's okay. I realized this year that when I lost the things I once thought were more important than anything else is the moment when I became a better, self reliant (in every way) man. Not just that, one who appreciates his humble beginnings. I mean, if you would have told me at 20 that I wouldn't move out permanently until I was 28, but that it would be okay because I'd be moving into a tree house, I'm not sure how I would have reacted. We would probably be fully recovered from our wounds around this year.

I still get that humbling sensation: like the right moves were miraculously made in proper succession. The other good news is that being alone is fruitful and can be the utmost of personal blossoming. You realize having your own place is--indeed--a chaotic, temperamentally lonely experience, but mostly it's an abundant source of inward confrontation of ones happiness. You do what you want because nothing's there to influence your decision. You do what you want because it's what you feel most deserves your attention. Do I want to make a sandwich, hike up the hill to eat it while watching the sunset in Pismo Beach harbor? Hell yes. I'll take some excruciatingly cheesy amateur photography while I'm at it. I'll also post said photography to the internet because I'm sure it'll be appreciated there.

For whatever reason, I've been thinking that my sense of humor would turn into something of a script, a funny short story or lead somewhere inadvertently professional. I write this, but I'm also trying not to lie to myself. I haven't made a nickel from writing in years. The odd thing is that I write so much for school and occasionally for the magazine that you'd think I'd be in the habit of writing personally more often. I'm also a completely mediocre writer. Let's forget that.

For awhile I'd serve the ideas onto my girlfriend’s plate and she'd eagerly (okay, that's a lie) discuss them with me. Those ideas would have been shopped on this blog, humbly and banally hoisted onto your screen as if my trivial bullshit meant anything to anyone other than myself. We all have this problem. Anyway, I did too much of that, put too much of myself into something at exactly the wrong time for her and myself, then lost a part of me that was really fucking cool, my biting sense of humor. School is also to blame. I always lose my funny side during the school year, it makes more sense considering how much I work in addition to the school related work. But with respect to my girlfriend (ahem--ex), my sense of humor was replaced by something I wasn't comfortable or flattered by in least. You know what women want more often than you'd guess? They like being with dudes that are fun to hang around. You know what chicks don't want? Listening to relationship bullshit. Like a lot of relationship, self confrontation what-does-this-mean crap. No one does. We all want to punch that dude square in the genitals, a reminder that he does--in fact--have genitals. We all like being around people that are fun to be around, not wait to be the villain (again) or help a person work though more crap that will go away or solve itself on its own.

The funny thing about relationships I'm starting to realize is that they have a proportionally counter effect on my creativity. Okay, this is partially true. The other part is that I (quite frankly) suck at the piano so I feel embarrassed playing for anyone, and no one enjoys having to be an audience member when you thought you were going to be a movie buddy or something. It's funny, because you'd expect the opposite would occur, that people would instigate creativity--you'd also be wrong. Relationships make you feel insecure about your creativity, very vulnerably so. Anyway, the good news is that relationships also suck up a lot of the creative shit I'd normally write about or complain about anyway.

Also, let's be honest about another thing too, being a 29 year old with a "journal" is pretty lame. Hell, I know dudes at 29 that go to soccer practice and shop at Costco for a night out on the town. Kirkland signs another win. The other day I saw dude on a date at Novo wearing pleated Dockers and he couldn't have been over 28--I mean, come on? Really. Gonna go full-on '90s dad so soon? This other dude had those light blue denim jeans, like, the kind you see Obama wear on the weekends. The kind that I didn't realize were still being manufactured post communist Russia. Like, clearly the light blue jean line manager is like an debate team God, I bet he was there to convince the world it could use genocide and nuclear winter. Here, wear these vagina drying blue jeans. The kind of color that old people die on in the hospital. Wear them. Feel hot and ultrafuckable.

Anyway, I've been experiencing a lot of inward crap recently (I think we formalize this as transitional thoughts) and it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to write more in my journal, work through some of these ideas here, privately.

You know what the worst feeling of regret is? I'll give you a hint, it's not when you consciously did something bad and it came back to smite you. What really burns is the regret from when you had an amazing opportunity, one that would shape the next couple of years and you totally blow it. Like, not just blow it. Like, blow it then fuck its mother in the grandmothers bed. I'm giving this more than it deserves. Okay, so like many regrets, this one begins with a girl. Shit, I dunno, maybe six or seven years ago I totally visited this girl--mind you, she wasn't the only reason, and it's not like it was going to go anywhere or turn into anything, but I had this singular, resoundingly perfect moment to kiss her and I totally chumped out to the maximus. Chumped out to the maximus would be the best Roman porn name ever. Off track, sorry, I mean she even waited for me after a show. It was a magnificent day we spent together exploring and I completely blew the kiss. We never spoke again and I completely lost contact with and--again--it wouldn't have turned into anything, but I always think about how I blew that kiss, when it was absolutely appropriate and would have tailored the moment indelible. Later, cut to me flying back home vowing never to do that again.

Here's the problem with the cursed nice guy badge. The problem isn't that nice guys finish last--well, I mean, that part is also true--it's that nice guy blind goodwill veils opportunities where a normal person would do something amazing and risk-taking. Nice guys yield to risk in lieu of propriety and the jostling fear that a moment may go unintentionally weird. It's a factor that nice dudes have to deal with, we like when everyone is having a good time and enjoying our company, we're literally aware of our presence in a space. It's self conscious wrapped in a bit of insecurity, but nice guys genuinely don't want bad times, so they cave and avoid anything that could hazard into a bad moment. This includes being the kind of brave where you know it's the appropriate time to kiss a girl. It's also ironic because great moments tend to germinate from spontaneity. She probably would have come back to the hotel even. I mean, dude, it was a royal fuck up on my part. I still regret that moment. Good news is that a lesson came with the territory.

Okay, enough of that.

And here's another completely random tangent. I love Chill Wave music. There. I said it and I'm not ashamed. I love rolling down the windows, opening the roof and driving ocean-side with this ridiculously silly, beautiful, and ambient sunset-techno music. It makes me feel like this moment, the one I'm living, is so deserved that it has its own special, tailor-made soundtrack. The music--I mean, come on--is optimistic (cool shit alone) but it's also upbeat, hypnotically relaxing and totally west coast. Suddenly I'm Joe west coast.

And I miss the abundant good people that used to be in my life. Although, this is improving. Who would have thought that living with your father at 28 wasn't conducive to a worthwhile social life. I'm finding new local people... Jesus, I need to stop this bullshit. No one, me included, wants to read about me meeting people. Jesus Christ, dude. I think this is the end of this entry. I should do this more often. It feels remotely therapeutic, except without all that identity crisis bullshit.
1 Distraction| Get distracted

[24 Aug 2010|10:36pm]
The past is so far in the past these days. Full steam ahead. I'm over it all. Cal Poly begins shortly and I'm loving all that's happening right now. Everyone is in a better place.
1 Distraction| Get distracted

[11 Aug 2010|01:15pm]
Depository of quotes I'm recently inspired by: "If you’re doing something you love an hour feels like five minutes, and if you’re doing something that doesn’t resonate with your spirit five minutes feels like an hour"

"Human communities depend upon a diversity of talent, not a singularity conception of ability."

Both by Sir Ken Robinson
Get distracted

[19 Jul 2010|08:36pm]
"It's huge to finally embrace the life you never planned on."
Get distracted

[19 Jul 2010|04:09pm]
Fear of failure is one of the worst things ever bestowed upon mankind. Things just fill up and grow packed and your natural, guttural response is to match the event growth with stress.

Things will always work out, everyone is always trying to help me move forward, I keep forgetting this. People want other people to succeed, because it's seems so uncommon these days.

Everything is so awesome right now. Absolutely no fucking regrets about school. I can already see how amazing life will be when I'm done with this school horse shit.

I can't help but daydream of domesticity. Huge brick walls leading to killer studio ceilings, vast windows, sustainable fixtures, room to grow and be creative and a community garden.
Get distracted

GQ piece: "Dear (Possibly Doomed) Class of 2010" [15 Jun 2010|08:57am]
"Dear (Possibly Doomed) Class of 2010:

Well, you finally made it. You graduated! You spent four years (or eight, or ten–no judgments!) and eleventy billion dollars of your parents’ money, and now you’re a bunch of learned-ass adults.

Now for the bad news. You’re joining the workforce in the middle of a jobless recovery, which is basically the O’Doul’s of economic rallies. It’s no picnic out here. Or, okay, it’s a picnic, but it’s a Cormac McCarthy The Road type of picnic, there’s not enough canned peaches in the shopping cart, and everybody’s calling dibs on the one bullet. And also there are fire ants.

Mighty institutions people once took for granted–banks, newspapers, American Idol–are crumbling, and while most of them deserve to, the problem with a world without mighty institutions is that mighty institutions used to employ a lot of people. You could always get The Man to finance your lifestyle. No more. That unpaid internship you’ve got your eye on? Be prepared to flight somebody for it. Possibly your dad.

You’ve never known hardship. You’ve also never lived in a world without Intenet, which means you’ve grown up with an exaggerated sense of your own self-importance. You posted ‘response’ videos on YouTube; poured out your every typeable thought on a glittering, blinking MySpace page.

You had access to all the machinery of self-promotion before you really had a self. You thought of fame as a birthright. And now you’ve been booted into a world that will LOL at your sense of awesome-life-entitlement, then offer to ‘hire’ you to blog for free.

Having a thousand Facebook friends means about as much in 2010 as a personalized-license-plate key chain meant in 1990. We live in a moment when anybody can make a name for themselves; the game you’re suiting up for is about making that name matter.

- GQ"

Nothing like some good old fashioned comedy/common sense boot-to-faceitude.
Get distracted

[14 Jun 2010|09:41am]
As I get older I require myself to be more accepting to things I previously dismissed and (occasionally) hated. One such thing I've had to work especially hard at accepting is photography. These days, when all of us carry two cameras around on a normal workday, it's tough to acknowledge it as a legitimate art form since taking photos has become so pedestrian and synthesized into our banal errands.

My mindset has exacerbated, as to whenever I see an overweight American-tourist type with his bigass expensive photography bullshit dangling from his heroically unpoetic neck. These people are the Thomas Kinkade's of the photography world--only, unlike painting--photography has ten million TK's roaming the earth, elbowing you out of "their shots" at aquariums, sunsets, and uptowns as they commit everything viewable into a shot.

I remember what my favorite photographer, Terry Richardson, said about the medium (btw, he takes pretty much all his photos with disposable cameras), "Photographers don't take photos, they make photos." It took a long time not to prejudge and dismiss that line as horseshit art-speak, but I've come to terms with quote. And I see what he means, he's bridging over the rest of us, with our camera phones and digital cameras, huge expensive phallic lenses and that Photoshop rendering of every shitty image we make into a glossy, unspoiled brochure shot--devoid of all realistic, snap-shotty whim.

We're all so desperate to commit every waking action into a file tree of reflection. It's only going to get more dredged. We have no choice, but to accept the undertow and go with it. Even if it means future photographers have a harder time getting through the static, because of all us wannabees.

It's like the music industry of the seventies--where it was a real fortunate opportunity to record an album, because it was time consuming and expensive. Now, when all it takes is bittorrent to download the recording software, you don't even need a fancy microphone, you can record an album and begin selling mp3's in a single night. It's the blessing for having such an easy ability to churn out records these days. I acknowledge that the easy technology allows amazing bedroom bands to record, that otherwise wouldn't have the chance. It also allows them to be discovered by the rest of us, possibly setting a big national tour or something.

The problem is obvious, and this goes for photography, with recording so easy to accomplish way more bands can do it. So in the past where it may have been 1 solid album for every 30 recorded, it's now, like, 1 solid album for every 2000 recorded. Probably worse. There's no pre-vetting the bands that enter the recording studio. Suddenly, everyone's a professional and they have the same marketing schemes and social platforms at their disposal, just like the big labels. In a way, that's cool, disenfranchising the industry in such a way. But in other ways, there's a giant wall of music, a huger beach to comb for those 1 or two amazing albums.

These days, we're desperately reliant on critics to do the sifting.

The good news is that the remarkable always prevails. For a boy in his bedroom that records something remarkable can put it on his myspace page and if it's amazing it'll get emailed, messaged and downloaded, spreading like wildfire. I read somewhere that's how online, viral videos become legendary, they have to be remarkable or have a remarkable quality to them. Be that a video of a break dancer, a funny kitten, or legendary speech.

So in a way, this is an important time, where human beings can send their shit digitally to one another, freely. The thing is, it needs to be remarkable for it to be indelible, as to rise above the growing tide of din. It's like the renaissance of the remarkable.

Since I began doing critical shit for the magazine, like, 9 or something years ago, it's the one thing I learned. Of the dozens and dozens of albums and bands I've written about maybe 1-2 have actually been remarkable. The rest I levied from the greater mass. By incident, and not specifically by my choice, but due to the era we live in, I've become a tiny vetting instrument.

I feel bad for photographers these days. Because it's not like everyone carries a hand held guitar or drum kit (let alone two). Fortunately, for us, the dude who carries his guitar in public is still looked at with great vilification and ridicule--we despise the attention grabber, and their desperate acknowledgment of being a creative vessel. Keep it to yourself, asshole. The rest of us have day jobs.

I feel bad for legit photographers that have to watch their fascinations be bastardized and hijacked by an ever growing legion of money wasting philistines, pandering to the big industries that enable them, yes, with $7,000 you too can shoot like a pro at the aquarium.
Get distracted

[09 Jun 2010|07:38pm]
I even think about cooking for us. Like, seriously. Cooking and gardening together. It's something you didn't think you'd reach, but then there it is, plain as day. You know what you want.
1 Distraction| Get distracted

[01 Jun 2010|02:27pm]
Two philosophies of life that have been super relevant to me.

3 Questions Philosophy
1. What do you want to do?
2. Where do you want to do it?
3. Who do you want to do it with?

LeShan's Philosophy
Don't worry about what the world wants from you, worry about what makes you come more alive. Because what the world really needs are people who are more alive.
2 Distractions| Get distracted

[01 Jun 2010|02:20pm]
How much things have changed in the past several months.

I'm not worried about anything. I'm thrilled about the future. I'm excited about new people in my life.

I feel bad about things that broke bad, but the nature of things is that they always have this inevitability to working out. I'm thinking about things in my future I wasn't sure of previously. I'm an adult. I'm making my decisions and my life overhaul has been in full effect and is moving forward excellently.
1 Distraction| Get distracted

[09 Apr 2010|01:05pm]
It's a weird fascination, life right now. Days are packing full of adventure and existing on the cusp of something dramatic and wanten.

So glad things are how they are in the world. Surprises keep me on my toes and make me feel like that stupid Carpe Diem crap we're told by bumper stickers and snobbish friends isn't just anecdotal.

Being single is a weird animal too. Living in my own place is a weird animal.

I feel like Darwin.
3 Distractions| Get distracted

[23 Mar 2010|09:30pm]
I can't believe that 24% of republicans actually believe that Obama is the anti-christ. Like, the legitimate end-of-days anti-christ. Man, it seriously blows my mind how ANYONE still believes in that hocus pocus 1500 century horseshit. People are so fucking stupid.
3 Distractions| Get distracted

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