(no subject)
Nov. 2nd, 2002 05:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
transmothrait's pretty well known that i tend to spread myself awfully thin with my creativity, and with everything else. for example: my music is boring, my poetry is well below average, my writing is subpar, and my artwork is bland and almost totally uninspired. yet all these things together still make me an artist, because i DO have things to say and feelings to convey. combined, i'm a dynamo, of sorts.
and of all the things i do, writing is probably the only thing i've really ever done with the most proficiency. i can write circles around 95% of the jerks out there who have nothing Important to say whatsoever. when i start getting my novel online, you'll see what i am talking about.
now, on to my real point...
this translates particularly well into my tastes in the arts. since i do tend to spread my interests so thinly, i also tend to like the very best of the very best; the cream of the crop. so when i recommend something to check out, you'd best believe it will be well worth it. i can't stand it when i recommend something like the film Amelie to some thicknecked beer-guzzling knuckle-dragging jockboy, only to have them turn around and say that they really didn't get anything out of it. whatsa matter, not enough 'splosions for ya there, sportbilly? this is incredulous.
Cat Stevens is a great example. at first listen, his voice can be somewhat grating; he sounds like one of those annoying children's folksingers at first. probably the same reason i could never get into Jim Croce. hey, sorry... i really do appreciate him and his music, rest his soul. but he's not for me. Cat Stevens, on the other hand, exemplified the range of depth to the human character; his music was the (dis)embodiment of the yearning human soul. but most people don't understand him because they don't let him grow like a vine around their hearts, which are so caked with promotional stickers for 'must-see TV' that there really isn't even room for anything substantive.
this is the rant i thought up last night as i was lying in bed, thinking of you. i can't remember what i was wanting to recommend any more.
but hey: Pootie Tang is a really smart, funny movie, and Waking Life is a great head trip. Tom Petty's new best-of is really very excellent; i wish more people knew about Guided By Voices' Alien Lanes and Bee Thousand period. Denton Welch wrote wonderfully, as did Walt Whitman. and Ed Paschke is an amazing visual artist, while Dale Chihuly's blown glass can blow minds.
if i think of what i REALLY wanted to recommend, i'll let you know. damn... was it Skinny Puppy? Bottle Rocket? meh, i'll think of it later.
and of all the things i do, writing is probably the only thing i've really ever done with the most proficiency. i can write circles around 95% of the jerks out there who have nothing Important to say whatsoever. when i start getting my novel online, you'll see what i am talking about.
now, on to my real point...
this translates particularly well into my tastes in the arts. since i do tend to spread my interests so thinly, i also tend to like the very best of the very best; the cream of the crop. so when i recommend something to check out, you'd best believe it will be well worth it. i can't stand it when i recommend something like the film Amelie to some thicknecked beer-guzzling knuckle-dragging jockboy, only to have them turn around and say that they really didn't get anything out of it. whatsa matter, not enough 'splosions for ya there, sportbilly? this is incredulous.
Cat Stevens is a great example. at first listen, his voice can be somewhat grating; he sounds like one of those annoying children's folksingers at first. probably the same reason i could never get into Jim Croce. hey, sorry... i really do appreciate him and his music, rest his soul. but he's not for me. Cat Stevens, on the other hand, exemplified the range of depth to the human character; his music was the (dis)embodiment of the yearning human soul. but most people don't understand him because they don't let him grow like a vine around their hearts, which are so caked with promotional stickers for 'must-see TV' that there really isn't even room for anything substantive.
this is the rant i thought up last night as i was lying in bed, thinking of you. i can't remember what i was wanting to recommend any more.
but hey: Pootie Tang is a really smart, funny movie, and Waking Life is a great head trip. Tom Petty's new best-of is really very excellent; i wish more people knew about Guided By Voices' Alien Lanes and Bee Thousand period. Denton Welch wrote wonderfully, as did Walt Whitman. and Ed Paschke is an amazing visual artist, while Dale Chihuly's blown glass can blow minds.
if i think of what i REALLY wanted to recommend, i'll let you know. damn... was it Skinny Puppy? Bottle Rocket? meh, i'll think of it later.
