The importance of doing things for me has become apparent in recent moments of contemplation. i don't know if i'd call myself a selfish person, but yes, a flake maybe. there are a few people i allow into my everyday life for which i will put selfishness aside, and flakey-ness becomes a non issue. i bring this up because my desire to become a full on hermit has been flaring up recently, threatening to blow up into a full fledged research phase.
my thirst for inspiration and for "knowledge" in the form of learning of other's experience, of their intellectual paths and sources has become almost unbearable as there is just too much to cover. i have begun to think it is almost unconquerable in fact, that if i spent every waking non-working moment reading all that I put on my plate, it would still not get done in the capacity i want it to get done in. if i could listen to every album that is sent to me, or that i have downloaded on a whim. If i could devote a day to listening to the first Doors album, or the new Beach House album (conquering as this post is being written - it's gorgeous) I could perhaps be the person I want to be, I could perhaps skim the surface of the long road to enlightenment I feel so close to beginning.
I visited Dallas for a few days, with the intent to travel to Austin for SXSW, a festival I have yet to conquer. Lack of planning on my part made a hotel reservation impossible, and I was lucky enough to stay with a friend for one night allowing me just 24 hours in the city of music. Experiences like those, in a city unfamiliar with so much potential sitting within grasp, just a hop skip and a jump away is exhilarating, and these types of trips always leave me wondering why I don't treat my own dear city of Los Angeles in the same way. There is always something to do, often too many things to choose from, but in Austin, with the tangible end in sight, everything becomes possible.
We smoked a self-rolled joint on a stoop in downtown Austin, proceeded to visit a shanty-town of bands and groupies standing in defined groups, all unapproachable to us, our cold feet dirtied with dusty grime. By chance we ran into some friends from LA, we were all introduced and discussed the importance of "never letting them know you know who they are" and being proud and tipsy and high on life. By chance we ran after a van stuck in traffic and hopped in, to make new friends in the back seat. Pipes and beers were passed around like business cards, acquainting us with each other in the best of ways. It felt meant to be, as the driver played solid 60s and 70s rock including the Doors, my current personal favorite, and it just was. It was life, and the way it is supposed to be.
I left the next day stumbling upon snow in Dallas in March, unfamiliar cold temperatures and cold meetings with parents who I don't identify with anymore. Inane questions and rich food and general uncomfortable situations made me wonder if I could hermit myself away from my own family. Perhaps its a sick thought, but yes I am still a vegetarian, and no, just because you got me a meat sandwich, I will not eat it!
Exhausted mentally I escaped to my favorite used bookstore to further my studies. The "dark nights of the soul" were plentiful, and finally, I was back on a plane to los angeles, only to feel an even darker night of the soul, But these nights are a part pf feeling change. I opened my mailbox upon arrival to find my first published article, and felt proud for just a moment, but who to share it with? I didn't really miss anyone in LA while I was away.
Time to find my Laurel Canyon abode. Time to read my books and to develop my photos and to make my lists of Jim Morrison inspired reading. To try to absorb as much as I can, for I might rather be a jack of all trades and a master of none if it means I can absorb and put things down on paper. To be well spoken while doing it.
my favorite of artists from SXSW, Washed Out, in a steamy club on sixth street, this song is great
Washed Out - Feel It All Around