I have created wastelands of days in my wake -
I'm forever waiting for the one who'll come along with what I want.
And I'll jump at every chance, naively unable to disguise my feelings.
My days're boring, long, but sometimes I'm lucky enough for 'em to at least be eventful and boring. I've been reading like a recluse in a post apocalyptic world that's locked himself away in a library. Kurt Vonnegut, even in his earlier novels, is capable of making me completely forget my surroundings and enter the story so much I can practically feel every drink his characters take and hear what the words're telling me.
Right after I'd finished reading Player Piano, I picked up this other book called Birth of The Cool : Beat, Bebop, And The American Avant-Garde, which's so immensely awesome I don't think that I'd do it justice with any attempt I might make at describing the book written by Lewis MacAdams.
So I've declared myself a major, finally. In my fifth semester of real, grown up college, I am majoring in Fine Arts. I figured it was just about as useless as anything else I could declare a major in. Drawing II, 2-D Design, 3-D Design, and I think Color Theory await me come Tuesday. (EDIT: I just checked, and it's Art History I that I'm taking instead'a Color Theory. I do not pay attention very well.) I somehow managed to pick probably the single major that could make my father (the art teacher) angry, and for this, I am so immensely proud of myself. He said musick would've made more sense to him, and that he also just couldn't see it in me. I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from saying "Pssh, 'the fuck do you know about me?", 'coz we're getting along better now.
So Chris brought over his brother to the last Glitz and Murder rehearsal, and his brother, Alex, who had never played the drums before, ended up pretty much being a natural and having a ridiculously on point sense of rhythm. That being such, Chris conceded the stool, and picked up an axe. So I picked up a bass guitar, and counting that practice and the one we had today, we've written about four songs with this new arrangement. And yeah, we figure inbetween songs, we can have each other trading off instruments and hopefully confusing some of our audience just a bit. Maybe we should switch clothes, too.
I think I started a band a week ago or so that no longer exists. The guitarist's phone has been deactivated, and the drummer's pretty much set on the band not taking any of his hangout time, and he's got work all other hours of his life. So I called up another buddy of mine from the school, and come Monday, we're gonna get together and try to work some songs out, and maybe find some like-minded musicians, if we're lucky enough to be able to work together.
This journal entry has taken me an extremely long time to write. While I've been "writing" this, I've eaten a midnight meal, gone out to hang with a friend in Rockaway, driven around singing Guns 'N Roses, smoked 2 cigarettes, listened to hours and hours of musick and concerts, and worked for well over an hour (Maybe. Not straight) on this drawing that I'd resolved to finish before I got to bed. And I can't tell if the drawing's interesting, or too complicated, or too simple, or too disturbing. It looks kinda cool, anyway. I wanted to get some practice in before I got to class and started weirding out everyone in the room.
And I'll jump at every chance, naively unable to disguise my feelings.
My days're boring, long, but sometimes I'm lucky enough for 'em to at least be eventful and boring. I've been reading like a recluse in a post apocalyptic world that's locked himself away in a library. Kurt Vonnegut, even in his earlier novels, is capable of making me completely forget my surroundings and enter the story so much I can practically feel every drink his characters take and hear what the words're telling me.
Right after I'd finished reading Player Piano, I picked up this other book called Birth of The Cool : Beat, Bebop, And The American Avant-Garde, which's so immensely awesome I don't think that I'd do it justice with any attempt I might make at describing the book written by Lewis MacAdams.
So I've declared myself a major, finally. In my fifth semester of real, grown up college, I am majoring in Fine Arts. I figured it was just about as useless as anything else I could declare a major in. Drawing II, 2-D Design, 3-D Design, and I think Color Theory await me come Tuesday. (EDIT: I just checked, and it's Art History I that I'm taking instead'a Color Theory. I do not pay attention very well.) I somehow managed to pick probably the single major that could make my father (the art teacher) angry, and for this, I am so immensely proud of myself. He said musick would've made more sense to him, and that he also just couldn't see it in me. I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from saying "Pssh, 'the fuck do you know about me?", 'coz we're getting along better now.
So Chris brought over his brother to the last Glitz and Murder rehearsal, and his brother, Alex, who had never played the drums before, ended up pretty much being a natural and having a ridiculously on point sense of rhythm. That being such, Chris conceded the stool, and picked up an axe. So I picked up a bass guitar, and counting that practice and the one we had today, we've written about four songs with this new arrangement. And yeah, we figure inbetween songs, we can have each other trading off instruments and hopefully confusing some of our audience just a bit. Maybe we should switch clothes, too.
I think I started a band a week ago or so that no longer exists. The guitarist's phone has been deactivated, and the drummer's pretty much set on the band not taking any of his hangout time, and he's got work all other hours of his life. So I called up another buddy of mine from the school, and come Monday, we're gonna get together and try to work some songs out, and maybe find some like-minded musicians, if we're lucky enough to be able to work together.
This journal entry has taken me an extremely long time to write. While I've been "writing" this, I've eaten a midnight meal, gone out to hang with a friend in Rockaway, driven around singing Guns 'N Roses, smoked 2 cigarettes, listened to hours and hours of musick and concerts, and worked for well over an hour (Maybe. Not straight) on this drawing that I'd resolved to finish before I got to bed. And I can't tell if the drawing's interesting, or too complicated, or too simple, or too disturbing. It looks kinda cool, anyway. I wanted to get some practice in before I got to class and started weirding out everyone in the room.