Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Silent Social Space

I was thinking today that I don't blog enough. Or rather, I don't blog as much as I used to. And like the faces of the moon, it would appear that after thinking this thought, my day started to drift into depression to the point where I'm listening to the same MP3 of a European pop remix of an obscure video game track.

The bulk of this rant will consist of the usual shit. Once again, I'm starting to feel like I am not fit for the social aspects of life. Actually, to the point where my mind begins to glorify what it must be like to be a social enigma. Not the bad kind, but the kind that gets the attention of the press and the easily impressed because the know they can't get access to said information. It's like acting like a cat. You want to know more about what they like and what they don't like, but in the end, they will only let you know what they feel like letting you know.

And once again, I am finding myself in a bubble of cultural isolation caused by the addiction of simulation and stylized stimulus. My creative has taken a dive, with my interest locked on to emulating Japanese landscapes from the feudal era and creating another fireworks show for entertainment purposes rather than art. Come to think of it, I seem to be spending a lot of time with people I know in other departments of the school talking about their major if not critiquing them before their teacher gets a hold of them. Already this past week, I told my film friends how engaging the first three minutes of his short is as well as how nice that it feels longer than three minutes. A very difficult to accomplish in short films, from what I've seen. I also help a Graphic Design friend with trouble shooting a photo he was outlining for a digital woodblock print. I've even talked "nerd" with several students who actually find what I have to say interesting instead of trivial.

But throw me into a social setting where the idea of community is key to survival (i.e. the art world), and I flounder like a fish out of water flopping to get back. You wouldn't get that given the above, but it seems that the community I have found myself in is not the same as the one I'm trying to get into, which is a field of people admired for their creative talents in trying to communicate what cannot be said in words (or can, but doesn't have the same kind of lasting punch).

Trying to get in is a simple task, but very daunting at the same time. This month, I should be documenting and looking for a second juried show I can get into. Instead, I'm here pouring my emotions on the screen for those few that actually give a damn about how I feel. I've been both rejected and accepted into juried shows, so the process shouldn't be that difficult. I should have had it done this morning if I really wanted to! Unfortunately, that is not the case. I'll be sacrificing spring break on my own to just get some of the documentation of my video art done.

This whole day has turned me back into someone who wants nothing more than someone to pity me to the point where they can't help but love me. As selfish as that sounds, I've defaulted to that as a way to get me to sleep at night. Once again, I manufacture the perfect bed buddy just so I can fall asleep. I don't necessarily fall asleep happy. I just fall asleep feeling better than I would have if I didn't.

My mother keeps yelling at our birds like they are dogs telling them to fly down from the picture frame or to stay away from certain areas they like to walk all over. I keep telling her that they are creatures of habit. I'm starting to feel like I'm a creature of habit, since I keep coming back to this way of living once I hit a low enough low.

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