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Sunday, February 24, 2008

Extreme Comments •

it's not pleasant to admit, but i don't usually go through any song we do properly; take the time to sit down and look at every section's line, every phrase and chord, understand them the way i do, with insignificant formal musical background to speak of. still, i did, more recently, for this little sonnet we have in our hands, and i'm quite pleased by it, haha. it's an odd way to say it, maybe, but that's how it feels, a little warm glow of satisfaction. i'm glad we're trying it, and i do hope we can do it well (:

" i disagree. should i take a friend, or a stranger, and place him on a pedestal in a museum beside the marble and alabaster works of the masters, or invite her into the gallery as an exhibit, it is indeed art. as over the hours he unreasonably holds the pose i had demonstrated - gets tired and sits down, changes into various positions against what i requested, or starts reading a novel he got a friend to sneak in, in the air-conditioned hallway whilst leaning against the pedestal itself; as she begins to paint in the room with a glass wall, her every pose, expression, thought, turn of the head and little shake of her hair. it is art.

no, friend, it is not performance art, contrary to what you may accuse. I am the artist, not them. my art is intervention, and they are my medium; and it is art because, it is not reality. had i done nothing, they would be going about their normal lives, in his cubicle, or at the photocopying machine at her office. not wearing that silly beret painting for critics to gawk at when she isn't even a particularly excellent painter. but i take them out of their normal lives, and this representation of them is NOT the truth, it is the expression of a more profound meaning than three misrepresentations of chairs side by side, or the poor color pencil scribbles of a child counterposed with an amateur art student's pastels.

it is an expression of my impression of the world, the poetry i see in her moves, the feelings that must run through his face like they're being acted out by clichéd leading men in clichéd black and white films running on a projected behind his face. even you cannot observe every part of my art, friend. but if i know what i'm doing, i know each emotion, and you can try to understand it if you took a minute to think.

THIS is why life can be art: there i disagree too. when i choose to live my life like disjointed prose, or some other construction of my fuddled emotions; when i have a message, something to say about the truth that perhaps only i can see clearly for now(but to others, in their subsequent understanding it is déjà vu). that i could explain to you if only you asked, and i fished it out of my ~~present~~ unconsciousness. so yes, what you taught me, affirms me, sir. this is art, because it is the truth, and because i choose for it to be."

there's one thing i'd hesitate forever to speak poorly of, but here it is. it's easy to say that the situation is discouraging, and alas, the cynic has invaded the part of my life that was supposed to be eternally optimistic. the fight's not done, though. and that's what's giving the stress.

in other news, it's week 9, gosh gasp golly. send in the potato-hawks, she's a big one - Charlie Tango One. have i mentioned i hate studying alone. oh well. can i-?

it's all ok, alright now, really. i'm fine, life goes on blah blah. i'd be quite able to handle whatever shocking news that may come my way now. like, news, any news, coming my way, you know. you coming my way, something coming my way. knowing stuff. of course, it's ok if it doesn't come.. but yeah.

in other news, there must be so many digital art competitions out there that there isn't big enough an artist base to take part in all of them, all the entries i saw in these two were really crappy, i really really want to take part and grab this opportunity that i wouldn't get otherwise(i'm not really a stellar digital artist myself) to take part, earn a bit of money to go towards the trip, earn the right to say i took part in a few local digital art competitions and put them in my portfolio. but gah, time. gah, insecurity and high standards set upon self.

in other news, if a miracle happened, right now, i'd have X plus one more reason to be glad, i realized.
i wouldn't have to make any decision about that any more. if it were a real miracle, things would just go back to how they were, as if ~~we'd been carrying on and nothing had happened~~ we're really really ok, and we're carrying on.
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8:21 pm