The Begining

So, my grandfather- posted about him last week (?)- and I were talking. He told me that resurrection really means the new beginings we choose to create. For example, getting up in the morning and, whereas the routine would be to lazw about, deciding that you are going to go jogging and come home to make a good, non-pre-prepared breakfast.

I would shy away from the term resurrection, as I am quite orthodox in the sense that I reserve that term for Jesus. Nonetheless, I believe that I am begining a complete “new begining”- let’s call it “change in (existential) project” per Sartre.

I am graduating college. This means that everything in my life is about to change. I realize that I am in complete control as to whether this change will be good or bad. I choose good. I want to work. That is established. I want to work but give myself the time to be creative and seek bigger things for myself. It’s been said before. So, what is changing?

My book is pretty much done. It will be a great landmark for myself. Even if ten ppl buy a copy. The fact that I believed I could, others believed I could, and I actually did means a tremendous amount to me. It’s only the begining. I could have kept my manuscripts and notebooks all to myself, stacked in some affectedly humble state with sublimated resentment. I won’t though. Already, I have come too far for that.

I went to a poetry reading type thing. It was awful. It was meaningful though, and not neccessarily in the strictly schadenfreude-esque sense: I realized that for some reason, even ppl who write things so radically opposed to my poetry can like my poetry. Not only that, but I have my own personal struggle to make poetry something to respect again. In workshops and class-rooms and blog-posts, ppl can mock the classical and modern approaches to writing poetry. In their heart of hearts though, no one can grudge it thoroughly, as it is something that stands the test of time. That is, the search for the truly beautiful and eternal will never truly lose its place.

So, new beginings. All I can say is this: Max and I have some great ideas that we’re working on. My first book is going to be something to be proud of. My new ideas are going to work out quite well. I will find my way back into the University soon enough (yeah, I will be trying to get to Grad school soon enough). Besides that, I have an entirely new and inspired attitude towards the visual arts. New printing techniques have made me want more. Now, I have my sights fixed on learning Mezzotint, Aquatint, etching of all varieties, monoprint, and screenprinting.

Take care I have some new blog ideas as well. Later, perhaps today, I’ll post some new stuff about artists and music- you know, the classic type veezy commentary.

The official to-do list

If I put this here, I can and will be held accountable. So, here it goes:

* Get a job!!

* Finish “Nocturnes,” writing and illustrating!!

* Learn Dry-Point engraving technique

* Learn how to make stained glass!!!!

* Work on illustrating GBV songs (with Max[?])

* Submit to poetry journals

* Study for and take GRE exams

* Apply for grad school

That’s all for now. Will I do it all in the next 3 months? 6 months? year?

Work

I went to Cottage Grove today. It was the second time I’ve done so this last couple of weeks. I went down there to help with the garden in my grandfather’s absentia therefrom.

To tell the truth, it was a very good experience. As much as I have an academic and esthetic fascination with decadence, Fin de Siecle thought, Symbolism, Art Nouveau, etc., I have to acknowledge that what I find most satisfied with in life is work. I love working in the dirt, working on my linocuts, working on essays, etc. I think that this has much to do with my old-fashioned Protestant North-European-ness. I find idleness distasteful in the extreme.

As an artist, this is a terrible problem: if the artist neccessarily moody in his creation, waiting on inspiration, and art itself is not work in the traditional sense, how can an artist of my perspective on life in general be happy being an artist? Some have solved this with the “craftsman” artist type- that is, an artist is a crafts’ person making a commodity of some type. Others have embraced the decadent aspect of art (Oscar Wilde comes to mind). That’s ok for them. Not for me.

I think that this is what I need to understand about my art: I am a strange person, and I am a creative person. I need to create. It is n over-whelming compulsion, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s fulfilling and every once-in-a-while I make somebody else happy through my efforts. That’s all there is to it. I will work, in the classic sense. I will create in a non-work sense. I will be happy with that.

That’s all folks

My Last Word on Existentialism

I’ll keep this brief. Needs to be said though.

So, I realize now that everything I like about Existentialism is the stuff that is already a part of my religion. Everything besides that I dislike and find kind of silly in its far-outness. So, I can say now that I am not an Existentialist. I am not any kind of determinist either. Turns out I’m just an Episcopalian

Waterhouse, TG and Jungle- mi luv unnu pt. II

Again, Dancehall’s the topic.

I feel a need to explain my pov on Reggae vs. Dancehall. You see, I love Reggae. Some may not know this, but at some points of my life, I have hated Hip-Hop. As a child I loved Hip-Hop, but there was a point when, in my teen years, I was separated from it by being at Roosevelt middle school. Even when I hated Hip-Hop, I loved Reggae. It is and has been a large part of my life.

However, Dancehall is dearer to me than “Reggae.” This is how I see it: “Reggae,” in the minds of most people who are not from jamaica or have no authentic experience with Reggae, consists of the following: Bob Marley (& wailers), Peter Tosh, Dennis Brown, Mighty Diamonds, Midnite, Freddie McGregor, and a couple others. While I do like those artists ok, they are not what I love about Jamaican music. In fact, as a fan of dancehall, I frequently resent those artists (the exception being Freddie McGregor, who properly belongs in the Dancehall category and considers himself a Dancehall pioneer).

Sure, I like Bob Marley. In fact, when I was listening to Shabba Ranks and Madd Cobra (the big stars of early 90’s dancehall), I was trying to give Reggae a chance, and Bob Marley was the first thing I could relate to. However, i resent that people think that Reggae is Bob Marley, and everything else either came after or is inferior. That oppinion is so far from true, it is ridiculous. In fact, Dancehall began around 1970, predating Bob Marley’s first international success in 1975. The first real dancehall album- one of the greatest albums of all time, by the way- was 1970’s “wake the town,” by U-Roy. In Jamaica, people were loving Dancehall before Bob Marley was really popular. In a sense, “reggae” in the popular conception is an extremely small and incoherent mass of vaguely religious music.

Dancehall is music for the people. “Reggae” is music by Black Jamaicans for White hippies. That’s why I’m more comfortable with Dancehall- it encompasses every variety of Jamaican music that actual Carribean people go and listen to since the very late 60’s. Religious artists like Lynval and Luciano are Dancehall. Shabba Ranks and Ninja Man are Dancehall. Elephant Man and Ward 21 are dancehall in exactly the same way as Dillinger and Horsemouth Walker were Dancehall. “Reggae,” on the other hand, is for extremely elitists who don’t even believe the fundamental assertions of Reggae itself. As much as I love Reggae, people have to admit that Reggae is dead. The great things about it live on in the dancehalls. The bad things about it live on in the “classic,” boring, repetitive, and confused yet militant hold-outs.

So, next time someone tries to tell you that Buju Banton is not “Reggae”, agree exuberantly. He is not “Reggae.” He is better than Reggae, two generations removed from it at this point. “Wake the town and tell the people, bout the musical murdah commin your way!”

waterhouse, TG and Jungle- mi luv unnu pt. I

A few ppl have asked me about the name of my blog. So, here it is: the phrase is a line from a recording of Ninja Man at a soundclash between Jaro and Blackkat in 1980something. It’s the happiest sounding phrase I’ve ever heard- I’ve never heard anyone say something so thoroughly genuine than that haha.

So, this post is dedicated to Dancehall music (Dancehall is a modern form of Reggae music that uses a “chanting” or melodic rap style vocals and digital, drum and bass oriented beats, if you ain’t know ).

Somebody asked me last week, “what do you listen to?” That list has grown ungodly long and touches on essentially every type of music ever created. I stated so. However, I summed thing up by saying “as much as I love everything, the music that I feel is my music is Dancehall reggae.” I can’t really explain this. I am not Jamaican. I had to learn patois from talking to a limited number of Eugene peepz and listening to the music itself. I think I can guess one essential reason though:

The most happy that I have ever been was a particular night when I was about 15. I said I was staying at a friend’s house. Instead, my friends and I went to a rave. At this rave, I didn’t do any drugs besides taking some nodoze late into the night. There were 3 stages at this rave, and the first was quite boring (House music, meh). I wandered deeper into the forest to where I heard an outrageous sounding bass thumping. I walked in on the end of a dj’s set, and I waited about 1 minute to see the next dj. What happened next was something I could identify as a religious experience: the most incredible bass line I’ve ever heard started bumping, and the singing started: “cyaah say mi never dida warn yuh.” It was the most ecstatic experience of my life. It was a jungle set, and this 25 year old dude from Oakland was standing next to me skanking away. I aksed him what the hell was going on, more out of dumb wonder than anything. He said, ” haha, kid, this is JUNGLE!!”

That was the begining of the rest of my life as I reckon. After that set, the entire duration of which I interupted older cats dancing- some of them were Thizzing, so they didn’t mind it- to ask “what is this? Who is that singing? Where do you know about this from?,” I was a changed, much happier person. A couple of weeks later, after a coincidental random purchase of something I didn’t know was dancehall (I thought it was ska, my favourite music at the time and still some of my favourite) and falling completely in love with it forever, I began my collecting of Dancehall music.

I think that that moment in Dexter was the kind of “conversion” Sartre talked about. I knew my place in the world and understood all rudeboyism simultaneously. It was beautiful. The last 7 or 8 years of Dancehall fanship has been very good to me. When our friend J died, I was listening to Ward 21. When I was watching the presidential election results in 2000, I was bumping Blackboard Jungle, telling myself it would be ok. When I first told my girlfriend I loved her (the actual begining of our relationship- we were not dating at the time, I just said it ), I was listening to Sizzla on my speakers. To me, Dancehall is love.

I could write about this forever. And I will. But later- more posts to come on Dancehall music

Be e-Z massiv

My stepgrandfather

I feel that I need to write a little something here about my (step)grandfather and his decision to abstain from food to end his life. I realize that the key to doing this successfully is *not* making it about me at all- it is his decision, his life, and I respect that.

As sad as I am about this, I need to admit that my interest in him not dying is selfish. It’s easier for me to go about day-to-day with the thought that no-one important to me is dying and/or suffering. The thing is, he’s been suffering tremendously for many years. He miraculously survived melanoma, but many years later, he’s had ailment after ailment. Life is incredibly difficult for him, and it’s very likely he will not live more than a year anyways. I wish I could think that he’s doing ok, but it’s simply not true.

The amazing thing to me is that he maintains that he loves life. The point has been reached though, I supose, where simply surviving one more day makes impossible to enjoy life itself.  At first, I could not accept that. After thinking about it a long while though, I understand it. Control over one’s death is as important as control over one’s lfie I suppose.

If he were a different person, I might contend that there’s still more life out there. The thing is, he lived quite an extraordinary life: In wwII, he was on the front line in both Europe then Aisa; he became a minister and was involved with the civil rights movement; he knew Cesar Chavez (he even stayed at his house!), Martin Luther King jr., and was right in the middle of everything with those guys.

Perhaps this is the reason I’m resigned to simply trying to feel ok about it all. I really respect him more than to dissagree with him about his own life/death. In a way, I’ve come to admire the decision to die even. I can’t agree with it; I never would do it myself; if my own grandfather decided something like this, I would be completely freaking out. Still, he is who he is and thinks what he thinks. I’m being ok with it. I consider my stepfamily my family and so this is naturally a difficult thing for me. But it’ll be alright.

That doesn’t mean it’s ok for anybody else to die!

everybody take care

Accomplishment

I haven’t been doing much on the creative edge of things lately. I have a little bit of writer’s block. I think it’s because I’ve been somewhat on the depressed side of things, and that doesn’t suit me at all. I don’t know why that should be, but it is.

Anyhow, I decided to “power” through it as they say. I started work on the most difficult design I’ve ever attempted. It’s an illustration for “The Death of Marat,” and I’ve already spent 7 hrs working on it. It’s about 20 % done as of now! Nonetheless, I figure that part of the problem is that I have been shying away from seriously challenging myself in poetry and in art. I have no idea what my boundaries are because I fear them so much. So, the illustration that I have been terrified of having to do is now well under way and going quite well. I’ll post it as soon as possible

It all comes down to what I realized yesterday morning: No matter what ppl think of my work, how much attention I get- if any!- for it, etc., it doesn’t matter one bit if I’m not just a kid with a pencil and a blank surface. When I started writing/visual arts, I had no intention of ever being published, seeing my illustrations anywhere, or even having anybody notice that I did anything at all. That is what has always given me my edge. So, I’m working on getting back to that place. Working on new material, starting to do some sketch work for new poetry, starting new linoleum blocks, etc.

There’s my update

Have a nice day

Existentialism II

Ok, here’s some extended ideas about existentialism:

Pro: 1. Existentialism argues 100% against moral relativity. But not in the traditional way. In a way that moral relativism has no answer to: if we are all freedom, and we are all responsible for evey one of our own actions, there can be no moral relativity besides the fact that all action is absurd.

I hate sociology, so you can bet that I love this

What I don’t like about sociology/theories of moral relativity is that they are based only on circle and/or self-refferential logic. Example: “You can’t judge the actions of a person from another culture”; this is based on the non-falsifiable, technically religious premise that enculturation determines the structure of a person’s consciousness and/or individual actions. Thus the first statement is illogical and is derrivative of a system of belief. It is on the same logical grounds as me saying that Joseph Smith proved that Jesus came to America to convert the Native Americans.

Further, I’d like to take the opportunity to say that Sociology resembles a religion and is not even really a very good social science. Sociology has only statistical evidence to support it, and at that, statistics of society. Sociology must constantly ignore the fact that all other fields criticize sociological statistics as being significant in themselves. Sociological statistics more often are manipulations of statistics that are impossible to prove as meaningful in anyway, and thus, all sociology is self-refferential logic that is either unfalsifiable or shallow lies. THere you go, my oppinion on Sociology.

Con: I still think that the unconscious not existing is crap

edit: this post is still a work in progress

w00t!

Here’s the news part of this post: a poem that i submitted to a poetry journal got accepted! This is the second journal that’s published my poetry, so this is still very neww and exciting to me. i’m always surprised that someone who has no connection to me on personal terms would read my poetry and say that it’s better than someone else’s. So yeah, Dry Erase magazine is publishing my poem “Death of Marat.” I’m psyched. In their mail to me, they said it was the only poem they decided on so far after the first meeting/reading (which I find incredible), so I have no idea who else is going to be published in the thing.

Anybody who wants can come to the Campbell House on May 17th for the mag’s Spring issue release joint

Anyhow, I’m always fascinated by how excited I get about these things. The news couldn’t have come at an odder time, as the last few days I’ve been having more doubts than ever about my skill as an artist in poetry. I hate it when I do that, and really I think that feeling down on myself is frequently more narcissistic than feeling good about people reading and appreciating my poetry. So yeah, serendipity of a sort I guess

I haven’t written in a few weeks, but I guess I’ll bust out my brand new notebook and write up some new material now that I again feel that doing so would indeed be worthwhile- I always experience a lull in productivity when I but a brand new, completely empty notebook haha, something about fearing the tabula rasa, to borrow Odilon Redon’s impressions on the phenomenon.

Part of the problem has been that I have brand new poetic theories and projects to work on that are mere theories at this point. I have 0 subjects to apply these theories to, and that’s also a problem haha. But, subjects abound in Spring. In worst case, I’ll hit ye olde art books for some inspiration

That’s all for now