Weird day. I had to get my BMW fixed, so I had to hang around for a few hours, at the caf and such.
I read a blog that said people aren’t interested in reading your diary, they need you to know how to help them. They also said a lot of other stuff like spending 2 or more hours on a post. Sheesh, come on!
Emotive music played, and later, I stood in my garage looking for evidence of these times gone by, old boxes of stuff. Things in the past seem distant and unrecognisable.
It’s not like I didn’t know, in fact, was that the feeling I was experiencing once when this strange sense gripped me?
I always see myself, just turned 19, working packing kiwifruit boxes. I used to feel strange and it was there that those feelings began. What happened, what changed?
Is that the feeling I was trying to understand back then?
. . . That this is now, but one day, I would stand in the garage and wonder what had happened? Was it a sense of gravity, that all things shall pass, but one day I would feel the shock of actually seeing so much change, not just a projection of inevitably how things must be, and that everything changes?
When a year goes by you realise time has passed, but when 10 years go by, a lot changes.
To say you’re sad or you miss something is to simplify the thing completely, to experience in the first place, is to have inexperience, you’ll never be that person again, you can never really re-experience.
This is all good material. I need to take these ideas back into my art, and use them to create the kind of gravity that is required of powerful art, that’s what beauty is in a lot of ways, understanding.
Maybe I have always . . . – I have been made to play the character that must let go of the dream, and that is the heroic struggle, not the struggle to achieve but the struggle to just let it go, and show that that is it’s own tragedy and at the same time victory in itself.
Nothings really changed, I have these feelings that are like huge walls confronting me, and art seems to be the only way to deal with them, it’s just what exactly that wall is, has changed.
The longer it gets, the more mysterious and distant the past seems, what is the accumulation of this feeling is it the acceleration of death?
Is each faded photo or document just another record of how close I tread, marching toward my own demise?
Once I would have suggested it is the feeling that time is running out, but I always knew time would run out, or in fact, we make our own time, over time what we choose to define us changes. Our priorities change.
Do I make myself feel guilty that I don’t want to rave out up the front any more? Is it too condemning in it’s evidence that I’m moving on? It’s a hard one. I don’t want to hide from the truth. That’s often what artistry is about, expressing a truth that can’t be expressed in words.
But I would really like to understand what I’m being told. The message is that the time is now to be who you want to be, because one day I’ll look back and think off this time and wonder what became of it.
I think of how exciting it all was once. The streets and the night and the music.
I was young then, and it is the young that believes that it must part of the future, that it must find it’s voice, that I know I can’t shout any more, there’s no point to my shouting, it is for youth to demand attention, and for me to know better and to simply do my work.
I don’t make my art to draw attention to myself, to make people think I’m awesome. This feeling wells inside me that I can create something resonant, that says something. So I’ve just got to go and do it, maybe people will not think much of what I’m doing or saying, but that’s not the point, it’s not about having a career being a guy who makes videos about a character I play and writes my own music for it.
It’s not about a career or impressing people, it’s just about doing because that’s what I am. It’s an artistic singularity where what I am and what represents me moves closer to synchronicity.
You’ve got to believe the magic is still there, that if the story can’t exist in reality then I have let it out and make the story myself.
