I was bored, okay?
A few months ago a good friend of mine and I were talking about writing (more specifically, songwriting) and he asked me what I did when I was in a serious relationship or in love with a girl; he wanted to know if I continued to write with the same frequency, if I still wrote any sad songs, or if I just stopped altogether. I told him I continued to write, just less, and that the only noticeable change in my writing was the songs typically became happier. Sometimes I have trouble writing when I’m happy or content. But what the hell am I supposed to do — deliberately sabotage whatever is making me happy to rid myself of writer’s block? That would be dumb.
He wondered if I was ever afraid that getting into a healthy relationship would cripple my creativity. I don’t usually worry about it, to be honest. I think the idea that all musicians (even creative types in general) should be tortured and live crazy lives is patently outrageous. I have no intention of being miserable. I look at it like this: “normal”, stable life has plenty of writing material to draw from. Even serious relationships. There will always be ups and downs to draw from, and even the continuity and stability between those periods is rife with creative opportunity. At least in my opinion. I think the notion that good songs can only be carved out of profound despair or joy is bullshit.
For example: right now I’m listening to Licking Stick by Desmond Dekker. I adore this song. What is it about? It’s written from the perspective of a child who doesn’t want to get in trouble because he has the hiccups. If that doesn’t back my point then I’m not sure what will.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this. I just felt like writing. I just really dislike writers of any sort who treat all people and situations as objects whose main purpose is to provide creative material. But hell, if people want to live ridiculous fucked up lives and exploit those who care about them for the sake of songwriting, that’s their choice. It’s just not mine.
I guess all I’m really saying is this: I don’t want to be a tortured artist. I want to be an artist who is a totally reasonable person. I feel absolutely no need to be masochistic. Because if people truly care about you, masochism is basically sadism. Or something like that. It’s a selfish way to be. And I don’t like hurting people.
And aside from that, a lot of the things that make me content (not overjoyed or ecstatic) make for great writing material. Having some beer with friends on the porch. Tobacco. Having a girlfriend and going out to eat. Driving through the woods. These things are not on the extreme end of any emotional spectrum — it’s the details that get me. When you treat writing or creating like a chore or a task, it will of course feel easier to write about anguishing heartbreak or brilliant ecstasy; but if you create whenever the mood strikes, simple things don’t seem as boring or hard to write about. And the details stand out. I don’t know.
I’m lost now.
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work in progress started today… “hey you”
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some months ago I wrote a song from the perspective of a romantic ghost, hahahahaha
Playin’ some tunes and getting reacquainted with my old friend Insomnia.
Gee whiz!
though it’s winter, little bits of spring
are seeping in, light-housing through the fog
and the air is thick and still.
I rise each morning afternoon
like a new building hoisted up—
desire is the rope tied
and impatience is the force pulling.
I love the natural strings
trapped between the branches
God’s breath blows.
I rise each midnight
like a firefly desperate for quiet company
I do my love-flicker
and sigh at yours.
Your cadence is perfect
our phrase is almost as good
and I love harmonizing every night.
I collapse every sleepy morning
like a content branch ready to rest
I love climbing trees
and I want to show you how.
so, when miley talks about being the "chick who's rockin kicks"
DOES SHE MEAN COWBOY BOOTS? I assumed she mean like sneakers, converse or vans or something, but I have been corrected. I was born and raised in San Diego, I’ve never been anywhere remotely near “the south”, so I have no idea what she means. oh, miley.
I’ve never heard anyone in the south ever call them “kicks”.
