Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand
by krisis
The only good bit i can locate in all of that is that it looks as though my co-assistant-stage-manager is none other than…
Yes, that’s right, the girl from the date. Could life get any more like a WB drama?
By the way, if you want the previous four posts to make the proper amount of sense (or, at least the amount of sense i intended them to make, which may or may not add up to a proper amount of sense), read them bottom to top.
by krisis
Blogging is not a daily column. I don’t even have to post everyday, as one of my readers just reminded me as i lamented my headache-induced writer’s block. I don’t have to post every day because i’m only posting for me… i’m putting up the effort, and the editing, and the $30 a month that keeps my website functional as my bank account gets inexorably smaller and smaller.
Are you starting to see where those other posts were headed? I am tired… tired of having to learn all of the foundations that lay beneath the successful artifice of art, and having to be responsible for them all on my own. I am tired of spending endless hours programming my site and weeks in the studio just for a paltry 100 copies of my demo and a thousand readers a week. I am tired just at the thought of having to create a new layout or having to mix down another demo. I don’t want to do it. I just want to play, and to write, and to have an amount of attention paid to me that has some relation to the effort that i put into my work and the quality that emerges. Even double the readers, or five times the listeners, probably wouldn’t be enough for me … because even after my in front of the scenes work is paid adequate attention i’m still stuck behind the scenes like the Wizard behind the damned curtain, sweating away as he produces such a spectacular show.
I don’t think this means anything… i’m obviously not quitting or going away. I’m just so tired… tired of having to spend a year on music courses so i could have a key to the studio that i hate, and tired of earning A’s in programming just so i can properly sort out the PHP i program the site with. Tired of having to beg to be a mere assistant stage manager when we all know i’d rather be in front of any curtain, anywhere. I just… i don’t know how i’m supposed to be heard at all, otherwise. Maybe you could call it paying my dues, or maybe it’s just my own particular burden (and not such a bad one, at that), but the charm is wearing off … what was once exciting is now my dread of quarter inch to eighth inch cable adapters, and my absolute dread of photoshop, and my remorse over spending half of my education learning how to make what i want to do work, instead of doing what i want to do.
Conclusion? Who knows… either one step closer to sending out demos, or one closer to subway busking. Two steps forward, two steps back, same old me.
by krisis
My second class today was “Finding Your Voice in Journalism.” I hardly knew what to expect. In fact, i didn’t even really know where the class was; when i arrived at its original location down on 32nd and Market i saw that it had been reassigned to a classroom over half a mile away! The remarkable part wasn’t getting to the class, though, but my instructor Clark DeLeon. Clark used to write for both Philly daily papers, and for the past five years he wrote a regular column for America Online where he had his own keyword. What impressed me more than his digital cred was that while he wrote for the Philly Inquirer he wrote a daily column, once a day, every day. Writing a daily column is so much more intimidating than doing daily reporting… there are no facts and stories to hunt down so much as there are facets of yourself that you can put on display through the subjects you select.
I always say that i want to write a column in a weekly magazine or newspaper like the one that Liz Spikol writes for the Weekly, and even that is intimidating. She at least has an entire week, during which should could conceivably write and erase her column multiple times before settling down on a final version. Clark had no such luxury — he had to come out of a weekend with five fresh ideas and get them all written before the deadline. That takes some balls.
I haven’t got the slightest idea about what he’s going to teach me about my voice, other than he told us to write a short piece about something that makes us really angry. I think i have found a bit of a voice through this, but blogging isn’t quite the same thing as doing daily writing for the major newspaper in one of the big five metro markets in America, is it?
by krisis
Layouts of all flavors and styles are starting to look a hell of a lot more attractive than this one, which generally means that it’s time for a redesign … check out the new duds on these three: FluffyBattleKitten, Goluboy, & Agemo. As we all have learned by now, i am pretty much a dolt when it comes to constructing quality graphics for anything other than the most simple of logos, and have no abilities in the realm of connecting the various graphics in a layout as the latter two do. However, i do now happen to live with Drexel’s Digital Media force to be reckoned with … so, i’m hoping if i set up our DSL correctly next week without bothering her i might get some website design out of it. Keep your fingers crossed..
by krisis
The trend in weblogs for ringing in the New Year seems to be a dead split between resolutions that might not be upheld and a litany of excellent things about 2001 that never came to light through the actual process of blogging. So, in the spirit of my general disagreeance and spitefulness this past weekend, here are the reasons why my year sucked (in roughly chronological order):
My grandmother dies; i proceed to get so sick that i miss the funeral (never to be forgiven by family). (!) I have to drop a class for the first time. (!) The weekend of my dress rehearsals for Good Woman of Setzuan i am diagnosed with Pneumonia and Bronchitis. I have to argue not to be admitted to the hospital so i can start going to rehearsals again. Upon my return I forget an entire verse of my big song on opening night (at this point being generally attributed to my medication, which i will neither confirm nor deny). (!) My first girlfriend wound up being somewhat of a psycho/bitch; horrible breakup ensues. (!) I managed not to fail anything despite all of the above circumstances, but garner my first C (in Recording Class) (!) I have no spring vacation; i immediately started work at Admissions after classes ended. (!) I am totally miserable in my apartment; i don’t speak much to my roommate. (!) I miserably quit blogging for an entire week when my archives disappear. (!) I do not leave the city once during the entire summer. (!) I spend the majority of the summer wondering where i’ll be living in September. (!) I sign up to attend the Philadelphia Folk Fest and then have to back out because of work and moving into my new apartment. (!) I step in to give the counselor-of-the-day presentation one Tuesday in September, because the counselor in question was to horror-stricken to speak. (!) I enter a rather depressive haze and let details about it slip to my mother, who becomes physically ill at the thought of my mental instability. (!) I am admitted to the hospital for four days only to be told absolutely nothing is wrong with me. (!) I endlessly deliberate over a first date with someone who lives across the country from me and who i like very much — only to be romantically rebuffed. (!) I spend the entire last weekend of the year in the most dire of blah moods. (!)
So, that’s my year. At a glance, 2001 looks as though it might have been my worst year ever pound for pound. However, lest we all despair for my miserable year, click the end of each phrase for the happy ending that i might not have hinted at while blogging. And, in case i haven’t mentioned it, Happy New Year.