The fundamental difference between my generation (Millennials) and my parents' (Baby Boomers) is simple, but it needs some explanation.
Boomers grew up and entered adulthood in the most economically secure time in American History. They needed less education to snag a decent-salaried job than their children do, and a college education cost them a small fraction of what it did for their children or will for their grandkids. They built an economy where young people increasingly need a college education to move into the middle class, or even to simply hold on to the middle-class lifestyle they were born into. But the boomers who run state legislatures and private universities have collectively pushed the costs of that now-requisite education into the stratosphere. Tuition has risen at twice the rate of inflation. They bought homes in a much cheaper market than ours will be; they didn’t move us off oil; they’ve reaped the stock gains and the carbon externalities and the budget deficits—and left their children and their grandchildren with the bill.
I know exactly what I’m doing. I know where I am going. I know what I have to write. I know what the next record is going to be called. I know exactly how it’s going to sound. I know what I have to do to make it work.
“The artist should never contemplate making a work of art that is about something; a successful work of art can only ever be about nothing. The artist’s complete negation of intent thus creating a reflective surface into which the critic, curator or collector can gaze and see only himself.”—Sol LeWitt (via exasperated-viewer-on-air)
I haven’t been exactly up-to-par on blogging much lately, but I hope the few things I’ve reblogged this month are still interesting to all of you! I’m having a great time looking inward and working on self-betterment right now. I just put in my first review for The Doughnut — an online site for whom I wrote reviews in the fall before taking a break to work on Aquarius — that I’ve written in ages for Imogen Heap’s new album Sparks, so that will be up on here shortly after it’s published in the next few days.
My primary focus right now is creating and figuring myself out, which has strangely requiring a shockingly low amount of technology. Not that I’m complaining at all. In the meantime, I love doing these posts. They’re cool little momentary glimpses into what I’m listening to; at the moment, that alone is pretty interesting.
i am absolutely livid that i live in a country where the punishment for drug possession is likely to be years in prison but if you have a badge the punishment for murder is most likely two weeks of paid suspension
The logic seems to be that: because I moved to Nashville; because I did what I wanted to do, and what everyone around me thought was necessary; because I am actively pursuing my own ambitions; because I work in the entertainment industry; I am not allowed to fail and, more importantly, not allowed to express that I do in fact struggle like every other person after leaving home.
I wouldn’t go back were the world offered to me, and I love Nashville — that doesn’t mean there still aren’t obstacles. I am still broke, I am still anxiety-ridden, and I still have to pretend that I am not.
Aren’t we all broke and anxiety-ridden? What’s the point of pretending that we are all collectively not pressured by the same forces? I find myself hard-pressed to name anyone under the age of 30 that has their shit together. At least in the real world.
So let’s stop pretending. It’d be a much better use of our time helping each other along instead of pretending our problems are not the same.
Yes, there are bigger problems in the world. Racism, misogyny, sexism, theocracy, class warfare, physical warfare, genocide: they are all much bigger fish in an ocean that often seems poisonous. But maybe if we were to begin by helping each other and acknowledging our simplest struggles, the ones that we all share, then the greater struggles will be easier to sooth.
ISIS are not Muslims , a statement acknowledged by millions of followers of Islam. The teachings of our Prophet of peace and love is not echoed by these murders. These people can not even be called Humans for such atrocities against Humanity. The message that has been lulled into my heart is being…
After a little emotional dip this week I’ve got my head above water again. Feeling love and feeling loved, what more could I ask for?
I’ve decided to refocus the next year on my writing and production instead of my own artistry. It seems my image is a bit of a turnoff to the cash hounds in Nashville, so I’m stepping out of the spotlight for a minute. To put it simply I won’t be creating anything as myself for myself anymore, but I’ll still be creating as myself for other people. Just for a year to see how I like the fit. I figure that I’m young enough to take a few left turns from the original path. More than anything, this is to relieve myself of the stress that my own negative self image has imposed on me and the damper it’s put on my career (and more importantly, my creativity) for the last year-and-a-half whilst I learn to let go; get myself in shape without it impeding my work; learn to love my own skin without feeling rushed by it. I am not giving up, I am just refocusing my efforts towards the arena of my career that is moving forward with its own momentum.
Aquarius will still be available and will serve exactly the purpose I intended for it from the onset: to present a diverse, varied picture of my abilities, to showcase my songwriting, and to give you all the music I’d been holding for close to two years so that I could finally progress past it as a creator.
Just a year, folks.
At the moment I’m writing constantly, my creativity is wide open, and I feel very in tune with The Muse right now — something I haven’t felt in a long time. I’d like to think it has something to do with the fact that I’m completely enamored by another soul for the first time in my life, but I suppose it’s safe to wait and see before jumping to that conclusion. I am beyond satisfied romantically, though, and it’s wonderful to feel appreciated beyond my just abilities by someone who so easily stops my world on a dime with only eye contact.
I didn’t mean to fall so quickly for him. I didn’t mean for my world to collapse under the weight of itself at the first sight of those gorgeous brown eyes, or for time to stop as we walked through Hillsboro Village talking about linguistics and musical theory. I certainly didn’t mean to refer to him as my boyfriend in such a short amount of time. But I have to tell you, reader, when I’m with him my entire existence is rationalized. Everything I’ve ever done, everywhere I’ve been, it’s all been to prepare me for him; for how perfect he is for me — as if our souls were crafted simultaneously as counterparts to the other.