Impulsive Spew

an ugly collage, no doubt about it..but I enjoyed making it. So even as an exercise in ugliness, I am happy that I saw this one through.

*Street Songs by Howard Nishioka, 1978; one of them acquired taste albums. It's oddly appealing to me, as I usually don't care at all for sloppy stoner jams, though that description is really selling the album short. The last tune on it is something of an endurance test though, a "free folk" (before such a thing) cover of "I Am A Pilgrim". Someone needs to reissue this album on vinyl, goddamit.

*The Bottletops are still very mysterious to me. I remember wanting to hear this NZ indie obscurity for quite some time, and finally came across some of their tunes a few years ago. Another kind of acquired taste, but more of a ramshackle post-punk.

And then, later on had to cut my very long and wild & fuzzy hair to something more manageable and presentable, had to go to college and get in debt, had to get a checkbook and have bills in my name.

Still don't have life insurance or a 401k or a mortgage or children, but I'd say I'm pretty much a card carrying member of society. And it sucks, because society is fundamentally insane. If I was self-employed as a freelance artist right now I would likely be a lot more anxious, more often, and more unstable mentally, and still a member of society, albeit not as much of a participant (not driving to work 5 days a week, for example). If I was unemployed and living in the woods, or squatting in some abandoned bunker making art for fun I would have to be rich, or have some rich person to fall back on.

Thus, given my lot in life it is best to be stable in the rat race, especially as openly unstable as things are. And say this as a person that is not inclined to talk to people about my art, doesn't see myself as an artist first and foremost, doesn't feel comfortable walking into galleries and mentioning my work in conversation. That's what I've lost I think, in joining society. When I've gotten caught up in talking about art, in an interview or in conversation at a exhibition, I assume the artist role and it begins to feel quite normal as in "ah, this is what I'm supposed to be doing".