should be working
but here i
sit at the
computer tickling keys
whose top have
letters printed on
them. they are
well worn and
greasy from my
fingers and food.
in truth i
am a slob
i am a
dreamer i am
now certainly lost
and drifting, treading,
reeling, hoping, wishing,
sinking, praying, lurching,
sliding, searching, and
kidding my way
to the top.
some days i
feel like j.
alfred prufrock's little
brother, younger, more
successful but genetically
coded with doubts.
i think about
music ninety percent
of the time.
i envision myself
playing and writing.
some mornings i
do. some evenings
i don't. balance
is some strange
country i'd like
to visit someday.
albums and guitar
strings, wires and
hard drives coupled
with RAM. digital
notes and real
emotions? i haven't
written a song
that relied on
my real experiences
for a while.
the songs, the
voices that creep
out are not
so much cinematic
as they are
public service announcements.
here's a tip
for you kid.
be yourself, sure
it hurts a
little but there's
less you have
to remember than
if you're living
a lie, and
if it's just
a dreamworld... you
don't have to
wake up... like
a certain prufrock
i read about.
i was talking
to sharon adedijgiieedk
this morning, she's
my department chair
at the school.
i was explaining
this concept from
borges, the existential
argentinian, about the
aleph. the aleph
is the single
point from which
you can see
the entire universe.
borges' unsuccessful writer
"friend" discovered the
aleph during a
childhood accident. if
you lie on
your back, in
his basement, and
you stare at
the 19th step,
the aleph makes
itself apparent.
something very interesting
had occurred to
me as i
went through this
explanation... i'm now
entering a separate
stage of who
i am. evolution.
i have been
reading more, striking
out in new
territories... undiscovered places
curiosity is not
an impetus in
this case. in
truth it is
a broadening, a
re-calculation of my
facts and psyche.
who i want
to be as
opposed to what
you might see
me as. i
do think people
see what they
want to see...
members of the
faculty see me
as some curmudgeonly
bitter, mean elitist.
others see me
as a professional
and others, i'm
quite sure don't
even see me.
now the process
of murdering and
creating the faces
i prepare to
meet the people
who come and
go talking of
real housewives and mojitos
lyrics from forth
coming andrew grimm
solo disc...
the things you
thought were right
were all against
the rules.
when you lose
yourself you can
laugh out loud
or laugh alone.
the last time
i felt i
was anyone was
in you arms.
and how we
start to how
we end is
nothing new.
all i see
is smoke.
show me your
hands show me
your smile i
want to see.
where you go
where you've been
where i want
to be.
breathe in clouds
cigarette smoke
is catch
release.
you can't lose
a game
if you never
play.
i hope this
makes up for
time spent away.
take care and
talk to you
tomorrow. Bye now.
grimm
"Truth cannot penetrate a closed mind. If all places in the universe are in the Aleph, then all stars, all lamps, all sources of light are in it, too." Jorge Luis Borges "the Aleph"
4 comments:
Well, round one of the layoffs have occurred, and so far I have made the cut.
What do you say to the people who didn't?
There is less money now. Some must be sacrificed, so the rest can pay their bills. Does that sound okay?
One of the best things about people is their ability to adapt. It is not just an ability but a need. People need stimulus, in varying degrees, whether they know it or not. If the environment doesn't create it for them, then they will make their own internal conflict.
I have been thinking about what role does the audience play in the creation of art? Should the artist study the audience, determine what they want, or maybe what they need, and create for them? If the artist gave the audience what they wanted, then the artist would become famous. If the artist gave them what they needed, he would be great, I think.
I used to think that Bob Dylan was curmudgeonly after listening to his raspy voice critical lyrics. But I saw the documentary "Don't Look Back" and I was so surprised at how genuinely interested and respectful he was of everyone he talked with. He made each one feel important. That is probably why he connected with so many people. He understood his audience because he was able to listen to one person at a time. Then he gave them what they needed.
Well back to work, before I get freed up for good!
ha! good one carla... layoffs seem scary these days... i know some folks who've lost their jobs and they're trying to make ends meet. it's scary out there.
in terms of art and audience... i don't think i've written for an audience because i'm really busy trying to make the songs work and be great without too much effort. giving an audience what it wants in terms of art seems to betray the rationale behind artist's personal expression or "need" to create a work. However, givng the audience what it needs is true fulfillment... yes?
Once the songs are written, has the art been completed? Or, is there art again in the recital or re-interpretation? Could that re-interpretation be designed to give the audience what it wants without cheapening the art? With an extensive catalog of artfully penned songs, is it art to provide the audience with the ones that they need at that time and place? Or, in the case of Dylan, is it art to give the audience the songs they need but re-interpret them so that they don't know it.
The art critic is the audience, or "the other". And it is the art critic who decides what is art. The art critics build the museums and the theaters and publish the books. It is the artist's ego that wants to be included in those hallowed halls. Without a connection to the "other", the artist and the audience are the same. Which makes the artist a wanker and the audience a voyeur.
Is that as good as it gets?
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