good day sunshine
Fairly chipper for 10 A.M.
I'm actually finding more and more everyday my body has switched to enjoying the morning.
I'm more creative in the morning than at night somewhat. It's a different form of creative juice. I'd like to say really serious and statement-styled things; I am now going to be awake during the morning, I stand for this and draw a line; resolute things are somewhat apart of my Italian heritage I suppose. If there's genetics I may get that within it.
So I'd like to say I'm now going to be awake between 9-5 business hours but the creative process I live for more and more I find just as a guide or more my river I stumble down falling like Burt Reynolds in "Deliverance" trying to avoid the hickish internal residences of complaining and laziness as I learn to swim.
So I finished a 1st draft of my thesis but 1st draft is first draft.
I'm trying to sing, or atleast enjoying walking around now yelling The Arcade Fire lyrics out at people. I have a tendency to take 'The' out of the title or rename things as I will. I can be a bit of a bastard I'm realizing but feel as though I've gone through a sort of internal hermetic process of humbling which has greatly helped my artistic energy in general. I draw diagrams on my walls that reflect back what I want to write and had I thought of this long ago maybe I'd have written quicker.
I then play music I enjoy in a particular playlist flow and start drawing on the wall. I'm getting better at it but it's all something inside myself without thinking. The more I feel in this process the better I feel about the work and the clearer my thoughts become.
I also feel like painting again which I haven't done since I was age 12-15 in the art 2D, 3D and sculpture classes. Thank God Fairfield High School is/was/hopefully will always be a private school for everyone who pays taxes. The entire art department likely saved my soul from rebellious stupidity reacting to Zach DeLaRocha lyrics in the 90s. I didn't learn until later on that every school is not a school you pick French or Latin in. I think they even force people a language in middle school now. I wish they did that on me, I'd be the better for it. I'd probably know French.
And I don't even know Spanish despite my bloodline. Hell, I can't even stand the heat.
The art department is probably the greatest asset the public school system can hold onto and really grow. Many of the kids, in my opinion, who I saw going towards the road death awaits (and now sleep 6-foot on Black Rock Turnpike) could have been saved had the music and art programs within the town been utilized and exploded.
The reason (and if off topic excuse) I so greatly would like to see Fairfield, Connecticut revive whatever it is people who think of Westport, Connecticut and say art (which seems absurd now) is for the love of my hometown I for so very long refused to accept. You are very much your environment. I raised myself mentally. My parents did a good job doing what you should and can for an artist in growth; my father made my psyche stronger (even if it hurt) and my mother provided the grounding (in a small apartment and in the town I love). I'm inspired by the beauty of my environment, thus given the tools to live in Fairfield I was quite happy running walking around looking at everything that people miss and really shouldn't.
Every part of town has a different feel, it's set in this area to be used for the New York independent cinema's future (and is perhaps starting now, Nick Nolte I believe opened a studio in Connecticut).
You go uptown to Southport and you've got the historic district, downtown Fairfield has that mid-suburban Pete and Pete feel to it (where I grew up). The downtown Fairfield scene doesn't have the art infusion it needs but it's a waiting ground for something I'd like to place there later. It only makes the most sense. We're already an extension of mother New York (parents are many Wall Street and business exec. I think I may have hung out with the head of H.B.O. during some period's son at one point. This is like knowing the guy who runs awesome by one degree of separation).
I think this is the future and my grief with John Mayer (who is from our humble prep world) was not that he makes bad music but more that he denied really openly being from our town and placed in alot of press that he was from Bridgeport.
We can fix Bridgeport and help the poor (undo alot of poverty that killed my family in the long run, in their insides) but it simply has to come from the top. Doesn't have to but it is and probably will.
If you have a profitable idea for something, why would "the man" say 'no I'm the man'. This talk makes no friggin sense to me at any point in my life. The things I dream of creating are created by money but hold the essence of something artist and like a domino of good can extend the bettering of New York to CT and then the world.
It's a very important thing to me. Because I think it goes hand in hand. And it also means so much for location scouting for the entire New York Metropolitan area which is a state of it's own. I'd like to believe this could be an indie Cali but for the world. Because New York stretches it's arms around the world, and that is what makes us great. I just see a lego piece for the future of art and economy. And that I believe is the key.
I try to emulate my hero Arun Gupta who passed away a few years ago. Man was like a father to me and taught me things I still go back and learn.
When I was in my crazy 'I hate the hand that feeds me' phase of my life and all about being against one half of my make up (artist but also an urge for capitalism in the strength of good. Because somebody has to);
I'd say things in the fury of election like "we've got to get Bush out man. The world will end if we don't. He's keeping people down! We're doomed! You have to tell everyone!"
And he would just look at me. And then he'd change the subject to something much more important. Because probably some portion of that tax cut or the money Arun made atleast which obviously has Republican hands within some-portion helped paid for my tuition, or rather, the transcript I needed to save and earn for tuition. Arun never picked a side with that stuff or went crazy and I learn of him through him and in dreams looking back daily.
The rule of the lesson is a stand against absolute statements which cause the fall of hearts in pride.
Arun represented good. And we (my friends) had no idea he was a genius. He may have been a Republican for all we know. Nothing matters more than the heart. It's always important to remember that in New York City; the fever in taking sides and yelling without pragmatism gets to man and women like the crazy on 10th Ave one Freshmen year S.V.A. walk-home where a crazy stopped short, and some Spanish dude pulls out a bat and starts hitting the car and then a gun to wave around (so I ran but kept on conversation being on the phone and all because you can't stop what you're doing even if you're running for your life. Not in the soul of a New Yorker).
And so that is my humbling sense of things at the moment.
My earphones cause sweating but sound great. It's worth every amount of dehydration.
There's alot of freaky misplaced residences of Chelsea running through Hell's Kitchen this time of year. I mean hey, to each their own but I'd appreciate it if crazy gay men didn't tie half-ripped shirts with their black stomach hanging out in my Laundromat. It's awkward. I try not to show off, wait, there's no simile or metaphor to that. I want to puke.
Instead I'm going to make maybe breakfast. Or I'm going to eat some dinner food downstairs.
Oh and I grew a beard. It's very 1980s Jeff Daniels in 'The Squid and The Whale' [in my mind].
I'm actually finding more and more everyday my body has switched to enjoying the morning.
I'm more creative in the morning than at night somewhat. It's a different form of creative juice. I'd like to say really serious and statement-styled things; I am now going to be awake during the morning, I stand for this and draw a line; resolute things are somewhat apart of my Italian heritage I suppose. If there's genetics I may get that within it.
So I'd like to say I'm now going to be awake between 9-5 business hours but the creative process I live for more and more I find just as a guide or more my river I stumble down falling like Burt Reynolds in "Deliverance" trying to avoid the hickish internal residences of complaining and laziness as I learn to swim.
So I finished a 1st draft of my thesis but 1st draft is first draft.
I'm trying to sing, or atleast enjoying walking around now yelling The Arcade Fire lyrics out at people. I have a tendency to take 'The' out of the title or rename things as I will. I can be a bit of a bastard I'm realizing but feel as though I've gone through a sort of internal hermetic process of humbling which has greatly helped my artistic energy in general. I draw diagrams on my walls that reflect back what I want to write and had I thought of this long ago maybe I'd have written quicker.
I then play music I enjoy in a particular playlist flow and start drawing on the wall. I'm getting better at it but it's all something inside myself without thinking. The more I feel in this process the better I feel about the work and the clearer my thoughts become.
I also feel like painting again which I haven't done since I was age 12-15 in the art 2D, 3D and sculpture classes. Thank God Fairfield High School is/was/hopefully will always be a private school for everyone who pays taxes. The entire art department likely saved my soul from rebellious stupidity reacting to Zach DeLaRocha lyrics in the 90s. I didn't learn until later on that every school is not a school you pick French or Latin in. I think they even force people a language in middle school now. I wish they did that on me, I'd be the better for it. I'd probably know French.
And I don't even know Spanish despite my bloodline. Hell, I can't even stand the heat.
The art department is probably the greatest asset the public school system can hold onto and really grow. Many of the kids, in my opinion, who I saw going towards the road death awaits (and now sleep 6-foot on Black Rock Turnpike) could have been saved had the music and art programs within the town been utilized and exploded.
The reason (and if off topic excuse) I so greatly would like to see Fairfield, Connecticut revive whatever it is people who think of Westport, Connecticut and say art (which seems absurd now) is for the love of my hometown I for so very long refused to accept. You are very much your environment. I raised myself mentally. My parents did a good job doing what you should and can for an artist in growth; my father made my psyche stronger (even if it hurt) and my mother provided the grounding (in a small apartment and in the town I love). I'm inspired by the beauty of my environment, thus given the tools to live in Fairfield I was quite happy running walking around looking at everything that people miss and really shouldn't.
Every part of town has a different feel, it's set in this area to be used for the New York independent cinema's future (and is perhaps starting now, Nick Nolte I believe opened a studio in Connecticut).
You go uptown to Southport and you've got the historic district, downtown Fairfield has that mid-suburban Pete and Pete feel to it (where I grew up). The downtown Fairfield scene doesn't have the art infusion it needs but it's a waiting ground for something I'd like to place there later. It only makes the most sense. We're already an extension of mother New York (parents are many Wall Street and business exec. I think I may have hung out with the head of H.B.O. during some period's son at one point. This is like knowing the guy who runs awesome by one degree of separation).
I think this is the future and my grief with John Mayer (who is from our humble prep world) was not that he makes bad music but more that he denied really openly being from our town and placed in alot of press that he was from Bridgeport.
We can fix Bridgeport and help the poor (undo alot of poverty that killed my family in the long run, in their insides) but it simply has to come from the top. Doesn't have to but it is and probably will.
If you have a profitable idea for something, why would "the man" say 'no I'm the man'. This talk makes no friggin sense to me at any point in my life. The things I dream of creating are created by money but hold the essence of something artist and like a domino of good can extend the bettering of New York to CT and then the world.
It's a very important thing to me. Because I think it goes hand in hand. And it also means so much for location scouting for the entire New York Metropolitan area which is a state of it's own. I'd like to believe this could be an indie Cali but for the world. Because New York stretches it's arms around the world, and that is what makes us great. I just see a lego piece for the future of art and economy. And that I believe is the key.
I try to emulate my hero Arun Gupta who passed away a few years ago. Man was like a father to me and taught me things I still go back and learn.
When I was in my crazy 'I hate the hand that feeds me' phase of my life and all about being against one half of my make up (artist but also an urge for capitalism in the strength of good. Because somebody has to);
I'd say things in the fury of election like "we've got to get Bush out man. The world will end if we don't. He's keeping people down! We're doomed! You have to tell everyone!"
And he would just look at me. And then he'd change the subject to something much more important. Because probably some portion of that tax cut or the money Arun made atleast which obviously has Republican hands within some-portion helped paid for my tuition, or rather, the transcript I needed to save and earn for tuition. Arun never picked a side with that stuff or went crazy and I learn of him through him and in dreams looking back daily.
The rule of the lesson is a stand against absolute statements which cause the fall of hearts in pride.
Arun represented good. And we (my friends) had no idea he was a genius. He may have been a Republican for all we know. Nothing matters more than the heart. It's always important to remember that in New York City; the fever in taking sides and yelling without pragmatism gets to man and women like the crazy on 10th Ave one Freshmen year S.V.A. walk-home where a crazy stopped short, and some Spanish dude pulls out a bat and starts hitting the car and then a gun to wave around (so I ran but kept on conversation being on the phone and all because you can't stop what you're doing even if you're running for your life. Not in the soul of a New Yorker).
And so that is my humbling sense of things at the moment.
My earphones cause sweating but sound great. It's worth every amount of dehydration.
There's alot of freaky misplaced residences of Chelsea running through Hell's Kitchen this time of year. I mean hey, to each their own but I'd appreciate it if crazy gay men didn't tie half-ripped shirts with their black stomach hanging out in my Laundromat. It's awkward. I try not to show off, wait, there's no simile or metaphor to that. I want to puke.
Instead I'm going to make maybe breakfast. Or I'm going to eat some dinner food downstairs.
Oh and I grew a beard. It's very 1980s Jeff Daniels in 'The Squid and The Whale' [in my mind].
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