As a young punk rock kids we made zines and stared music blogs (instead of complaining that the major music outlets wouldn’t cover our bands), booked our own shows (when “real” venues wouldn’t book us), and released our own music (when labels wouldn’t give us the time of day).
What’s better “marketing” than this? Screaming fans, tender moments, so many smiles – who wouldn’t want to be on that train ride, you know?
And the fun part is this; you don’t need to be as big as Hayley Williams to live this. To be this. Today, make your magic, put it into the world. Big, small, doesn’t matter, it all counts.
When Casey Neistat started to say that he made all the music in this video, my heart stopped. I thought we were going to hear “I don’t even know how to make music,” and then launch into how great SUNO is, or whatever the fuck that thing is.
But no – he bought an Orchid! He looked up YouTube videos to learn the notes, then chord progressions. As a third generation musician this makes me so happy.
Also, this:
Great line from artist fnnch:
“I don’t know. You don’t know. Don’t try to know. Just make art that excites you, and make enough of it that you eventually make work that resonates with people.”
Read the rest of “How to Make a Living as an Artist” for even more gems. Link via Kottke.
I turn 50 tomorrow and my tolerance for nonsense is at an all time low. Like, I know I’ve been unemployable for awhile now, but I think in the next year I’m going to reach a feral level of unemployability.
That’s a cello.
Hard to believe this sticker is 16 years old, and references a MySpace page.
Doing my best to get back to walking 10 miles a day. Time on the road, looking at the clouds, it helps me deal with the loss of my cat. For seven years I revolved my life around being home at 4pm to feed that little bugger, and usually it was around 2pm that the screaming and yelling would begin, when Blue would awake and start demanding to be fed.
Tonight it’s chilly. A rainy, cold night. The college kids are notably absent, too, so it’s quieter than normal. We would have settled in nicely this evening. Maybe made some tea, which he’d always sniff and recoil from the smell. Then he’s burrow between my legs and sleep like it was his job.
So seven years of that… of a familiar presence when I was home, going about my day. I didn’t realize at the time how much that little buddy felt like home.
From Raj Kaur, “Blue is immortalised in my sketchbook, from a session with wonderful Beth Spencer.”
I submitted a photograph as source material for Beth’s online drawing session, and this is from Raj’s sketchbook. I took the file and sent it to a local printer, and they made me a nice print.
I miss my buddy.
Blue returned to the cosmos today. I miss you so much, buddy.