imagines the french.

March 5, 2012

it was not as much what you said as what you did.
keeping the pieces clean and modern with an element of something gritty.
it was rebellious and beautiful at the same time.
retro silhouettes, shadows cast on me.

this return to grunge.
a brink she would stay on for the ensuing decade or so.
who drove him over the edge?
perhaps it’s where i missed the memo.

when it comes.
the colors and the momentous shift from calm to chaos that happens.
it took me a long time to begin to understand what was wrong, what was needed, what to do.
stay busy, find a way, make a life without you.

easier in one year than in another.
and feelings of guilt and shame.
without a doubt they are unequal.
frustrations are not the same.

and neither are my satisfactions.
compromised, without the compromise.
but to us this looks like a perfect storm.
our cautionary tales of demise.

a wonderful thing.
comes with a certain amount of damage.
i forgive you for not being perfect.

 

-(made from phrases found in various magazines)

step 1.

February 21, 2012

Wow, it’s been a while. I’ve been so busy lately, but WordPress has been greatly missed.

I have really been finding some great relief in the fact that school will soon be coming to a close, only 3 months left to go.

But along with that relief has come a lot of thought. Not too long from now, my future is going to start taking shape, and I’ve been thinking  a lot about what I want it to look like.

I have always had a great interest in art and music, and I know I will not feel right if I don’t do something creative with my life.

A few months ago, I got accepted to Indiana University, and although I was not crazy about it at first, my excitement has built recently. I decided that I am going to study graphic design, and then my second year I am going to attempt to get into Jacob’s School of Music, to get accepted into their Recording Art’s program. I feel like if I could do that, I could survive living in hell, I mean Indiana, for the next 4 years.

But anyways, getting to my point. As everyone may know, just recently at the Grammy’s, the artist Bon Iver won Best New Artist, as well as Best Alternative Music Album. As many of you may not know, Bon Iver’s record label, Jagjaguwar, is located right here in Bloomington, Indiana. Lucky me.

So today, I took my first step. Although it may be small, and although it probably will not lead me anywhere, I sent an email to Jagjaguwar. I approached them about finding out more information about how the label is run, and just more information about the music industry in general. I would absolutely love to get to talk to someone from there, and I feel like it would give me the inspiration and motivation I need to get started on my career journey.

But whether I hear back or not, I know that it was my first step. My first step of many.

 

i’ve been thinking…

February 7, 2012

I’ve been working on a new post, but it has required a lot of research and time. So I didn’t want to wait until it was finished to share my thoughts on something that has been on my mind and in my life for a while.

And it has to do with parenting.

While I am far from becoming a parent myself, I have given it a lot of thought. I know there are many things I will do, and a lot of things I will not do. One of those things I will not do, is judge my child.

Like I do with my close friends and family now, I will support my child in just about any decision they make.

If they want to be gay, fine.

If they want to express themselves, fine.

If they want to dress differently, fine.

And if my child comes to me and tells me that they don’t want to participate in drinking or drugs, great.

Children come to an age where they have more freedom, they are away from their parents more, and they can begin to explore things on their own and find out what kind of person they want to become. As a parent I would be ecstatic if my kid felt free to be their own person and make their own decisions. Whether that decision was to smoke pot, have a few drinks, or refrain from doing either, as long as they were responsible and came to the decision on their own, I would support them.

It kills me to see great kids get put down by their parents. I hate it when a child feels like they can’t be who they want to be, because their parents won’t approve.

I will not judge my child.

February 2, 2012

Art is suffering, art is happiness, art is a loud voice, a proud mind, art is expression. Art can be created in a variety of medias with a variety of motives. Art is a therapy, art is a hobby, art is a lifestyle. Art is something formed by one mind and heart to be shared with other minds and hearts. I believe that we need art just as much as art needs us. While we use it to express, entertain, or educate, art uses us to provoke and provide. We can use art to express our feelings, entertain an audience and viewers, or educate about an issue or subject. Art can use us to provoke feelings and ideas that we have inside and bring them to the light, and it can provide us with a deeper insight of people and minds. The goal of art can be anything from bringing a smile to someone’s face, to causing a riot, from stretching the imagination, to question sanity. All of these things have a common source, the desire of expression.

Good and bad, high and low, can these terms possibly apply to art? What do they even mean? If art is a form of expression, who are we to tell someone that their thoughts and feelings are good or bad? Who can be the judge of determining high or low art? From a technical standpoint, we can say that a painting has good brush strokes and an excellent grasp of color and tone, or we can state that a classical music piece uses a structured dynamic and a fluidly changing tempo. We can do this because of the basic rules of technique for certain art forms. But when we get down to the personal interpretation, how can you tell someone that his or her opinions are good or bad, high or low?

11:14pm.

January 25, 2012

I love you, but you love the pain more.
I wish you would open up your eyes and see that this isn’t right.
I wish you would see what this is doing to you.
Ripping you apart, inside and out.
Everyday, I’m afraid to look. I’m afraid to see the piece of work he’s left.
But I know what you need is strength. You need someone to tell.
You secrets have been built up for far too long & this has been the only way to let them out.
The blood lets go of all the lies, the hate, the hurt, the past.
And then you sit there and look at what you’ve done. What he’s done.
And you blame it all on yourself.
No one ever listens. They ask, but they don’t hear.
They don’t understand you like I do.
For years, I’ve watched the sad, tormented soul.
I’ve caught glimpses at the source, and I’ve heard fragments of the truth.
I’ve tried to connect, tried to break in, but the walls are so thick.
You’re used to building them up.
But you’re scared of breaking them down.
For a single second I thought I saw a crack in the wall.
A light of hope, a faint smile, a quiet laugh.
Endless conversation with a mind like yours.
I saw what I’ve been looking for all of these years.
What you’ve been looking for.
But as the day passed, and the grin faded, so did the light.
You were left in the dark again.
Left with the sad, tormented soul.
Left with the weapon.
And you used it well.

Childhood Nightmares

January 20, 2012

Chilled dark nights
And endless roads
Every song reminds us of home

Hopeless love
For childhood youth
Drug filled veins were all that we knew

The taste of poison left us wanting more
Sweet addictions left our pockets poor
So empty your mind
And live for our trying times
Shots to our hearts left us with open wounds
We were robbed of our innocence too soon
So breathe it all in
Because we’re living in sin

January 20, 2012

I never thought my light would come from dark
Each day consumed by endless night
A shadow casts an image I don’t know
And my thoughts seem not my own
A man appears within my darkest dreams
He tells me I am the one

From him I can’t escape
He shows me things I’ve been never seen
He tells me I am a fake
He whispers words of sorrow
And I believe most every one
There’s one I can’t stand to think
Because I’m not the only one

He’s waiting for his chance
Hunting his own prey
The anticipation rips me to the bone
And pulls my deepest fears
He knows the grip he holds
But he knows not what he does
And I’ll find strength within myself
Because I’m not the only one

Here I lie with open wounds
My secrets on display
He watches as I self-destruct
I am the only one