"I heard telephones, operahouse, favorite melodies. Saw boys, toys, electric arms and tv. My brain hurt like a warehouse it had no room to spare." - David Bowie, 5 years.
Been a long time and decided to randomly check in on Bloop. Kudos to Steve for keeping the site running, and without having to resort to excessive adds like some sites to pay the bills.
Has been a long time, life has been ok. We moved from the welfare city to Knoxville, TN a few years ago. TN is excessively religious but the influence is not so bad being in a major city. We live in a huge house in a nice part of the bad half of town, basically where the better off minorities live. Locals talk about how terrifying the east is, but the crime happens in the wealthy side of town if you look at the maps. However in the east you may run into black people or panhandlers and the schools suck. The roadsides are a great wall of fast food litter and the stores are independent places with personality as opposed to the big box strip malls of the west. The east reminds me of home in those ways.
E is still hanging on, on experimental treatments and driftig from good times to bad. Young why is a teenager now. I am not a good father but try. I worry about him and do what I can to help.
Been doing art here, organizing get togethers, art shows and meetups, making connections with every kind of skill from spraypainting to body painting to pole dancing to blowing up things with bazookas. It feels like I have become someone who makes things happen. An organizer, a leader when I need to be, a far cry from the introvert I once was who would mostly speak through writing. The ability to do things is something you can fall into with experience. If you want to do crazy things like ressurecting Cthulu to get a selfie with him you start with things you used to think are crazy like saying hello to an intriguing stranger.
This was a milestone year for starting to get older, starting to look older. More old friends dead. Hairline is starting to recede, it does not look good no matter what is done with it. I had a good run being attractive, but now may have to develop a personality. God forbid. Maybe I will go bald like Walter White or just get some wigs. Could probably rock a nice purple bob.
Do you feel driven? Have you felt driven? I used to feel driven but in the last couple years am starting to feel that burnt out, like I am going through the motions of being driven. My life lately has been filled with art, figure drawing classes, meetups, portraits in the park. I got into art because it seemed easier to make money, I can do shows and sell a painting or 2. I can draw a portrait of anyone I can see in about 5 minutes and have it look like them. Sometimes I think I can make this and do well at it. But then I look at other artists who are better, at the sheer amount of other people chasing that dream and think maybe it is too common. Too much of a cliche. What makes that idea special? Has to be top common dreams number 3 or so. There are a thousand other wannabe artists who are younger, prettier, better at art and bigger on social media than I will ever be. To get money for something fun is always a competition, a race, and it is bloody exhausting. I doubt there are nearly as many people chasing the dream of being something like the worlds best tax accountant. Maybe the fun is in the chase. Or maybe I still will hit it one day. Just tired.
That is the news in the world of why, odd mind state today. I am fighting sickness, sitting in a thousand windowed office by a fireplace, watching cats stand on their heads in the corner. I am lucky and unlucky, exstatic and hopeless, trapped and more free than ever. How are you?