Well, Exit wasn't quite as good as last week, but I am physically more sore. While we were there we ran into another Cleveland person from Filament 38, a local band that opened for Slick Idiot a few weeks back, and hung out with him and his friends for the evening.

So I'm awake...and the icky blah feeling that's been hovering around me for the past week or so just won't go away. Feeling kinda out of place. Not sure what is up with me. Being doing my absolute best to try and take the negative energy and doing something constructive with it. Got inspired to draw...getting involved in a fully rendered piece for the first time in 3 years. Taking my time doing it, but also getting it done surprisingly fast. Unlike my friend Andy, who does comic art for a living, I haven't been living and breathing art and drawing. At times I think I'm not really much for drawing anymore, or tell myself that I'm no good at it. This particular sketch though, is turned out very, very well. I've put a lot into it already and it seems to be one of those drawings that when I look back on it later, I'll wonder how in the red hell I did it.

The drawing has been a place to put a lot of unwanted pain and frustration. There's nothing quite like taking negative emotions and putting them in a positive form. So, art can be therapy. And this raises a question...most artists, being more sensitive to emotions, are often troubled in some way. (I think it comes with the territory. ) With this is mind I wonder, do artists create because they are troubled? Or are they troubled because they create? Somehow I think the answer already lies in both questions: yes.

I am not the most emotionally stable person...I take little things to heart much too easily. I stomp on myself relentlessly for doing stupid things. And I believe that most of it is because I'm usually floating around on this weird creative plane, stuck in my daydreams and devising new ways to express all the crap that is driving me nuts. Many people, I've noticed, when they view me or attempt to communicate with me during these particular times, think I'm wacky. I make perfect sense to me. But other people view me as flighty, or juvenile, or ....I don't know. Something that should only be viewed behind thick plate glass.

And this can and has fucked up many first impressions of me if I get caught in one of these moods by someone who doesn't readily undertand what's going on. When that happens, and am aware of it, I then punish myself for my behavior, which simply feeds the cycle of crazy and results in the hours spent in front of the computer making MORE webpages.

Yes, I am freaky. But I am not a dangerous freak like some out there, I don't enjoy harming others or myself. The occasion self psychological torture just happens, I certainly don't enjoy that. But I am driven. Whether it be driven to create, which is the usual outcome, or driven to achieve a certain goal, things get intense. Creation is born from my obsession half the time. Unfortunately, it's part of how I work...it's always been there. I find something new; it could be a band, or an item of clothing or an idea and I obsess about it day and night to the point of ridiculousness. I have to live and breathe whatever it is so I can incorporate it into what i'm creating. I find it odd that obsession and inspiration work like that for me. It frightens me, to be truthful. I do worry that someday I'll go off the deep end.

But for now, I've figured out that this stupid, annoying behavior does have its place. I've had far more good than bad come of it. I know where it's taking me, even if others think that I'm a psycho in the process. With the end result in mind, it all makes sense.
Creation winds up making the thoughts a solid thing, and in taking a material form, the thoughts are physically put into a container where they can be observed and communicated properly, as opposed to floating around like a disembodied spirit and causing me to be wacky.

So on that train of thought...I must be possessed. That would explain some things. :)

i cracked my head on th door of the fridge. i am currently holding an ice laden wash cloth on my head with my other hand. This is not how i wanted to start my evening. So, I'm cranky now of course...but i still intend to go dancing this evening and do some serious stomping.

I'm glad I found a decent club in this town for the time being. I had a good time at Exit last week. It's seedy...and designed to be that way...but such a place has a lot of charm. The dancefloor is fenced off and there's scuffs and industrial looking signs everywhere. The restroom doors are that kind of metal with the ridges on it; the women's room having a large nut on it, the men's room having a large bolt. Very cute.

The music was just what the doctor ordered...a good mix of old school industrial, electro, synthpop and a nice selection of newer stuff. I hope to have a good night again tonight...after all the crabbiness I've been exuding. :P I should quit typing and go keep this ice on my head. ow. :(

YAWNNN.....previewing my radio show after a long hard day of playing with fuzzy creatures, exercising, ranting about music and marinating steak. Although...not in that particular order. I'm fearful of putting up this current radio show as it's just so damn weird. It's a "random" show...in which I flipped coin and pointed at CD shelves in order to pick what CDs to play, then made Mike pick a random track number off the CD to pick a random song.

So there's all this peculiar stuff like Primus and Pantera and Soul Coughing and other bands I normally wouldn't be playing. But the random show was my stupid idea so i'm still giving it a shot. Hope I don't drop any listeners. EEP!

And my little music promotion machine is running...not since Razed In Black have I felt the need to push a band so much, but I fear that I am hooked on Slick Idiot and it is fast taking it's place among my top three, if not top 2 fav bands. Not quite sure it's strong enough to dethrone VNV though...

But anyway I keep telling people about them and posting here and there...not to mention the reviews and pictures I posted and all the silly links I keep adding for them where I can get away with it. But, I enjoy the whole mess. If I was at the right place at the right time, I might actually enjoy working in the music industry...some parts of it more than others I'm sure. Not sure if anything like that is in the cards for me though. Sure, I'm going back to school for theatre design, but I'm not exactly sure if theatre is going to be where I end up. All I know is it's the right place for me to be right now.

I've always gravitated toward musicians, whether it was in choir or high school band, or people like Romell. I enjoy helping them for some reason. Not entirely sure why. Just makes me feel good for some reason.

I know that my time to actually live in Cleveland is most likely over. And yet sometimes I still daydream about the one and reason I would ever be able to go back and have a decent job. Alternative Press is located there...on a busline I used to live on. I wanted so badly to be a graphic artist there.That's the only way i would ever work in that field again. I sent them some samples once, but they weren't hiring. The problem with that job is it's a cool one. I've checked back repeatedly to see if maybe, just maybe they are hiring graphic artists...or even music reviewers. Nein. Who in their right mind would leave a job like that? It's so frustrating because the perfect job was right there in my own hometown...right in easy reach. And because of my luck and lack of contacts I had to move to Chicago into another corporate job that I wound up hating.

Ideally, I would love to use my talents to be involved with musicians somehow. How I'm going to do that with a BFA in Fashion, with graphic design experience, makeup and costume classes is not quite clear. School starts again in late sept., and although I am going back and have only been there for one semester I'm already questioning what I'm supposed to be doing with myself. The question to ask of course is "well, what do you want?"

Uhhhh...well, I'd like to ENJOY what I do. I have yet to have a job that's not total drudgery and doesn't drive me into depression. I'd like to make use of my education, (i've only spent several thousand $$ I don't actually have for it) and my talents....whatever they are??? I'd have to be involved in a creative field - that means music, art, writing, or a combination thereof. I'm not the type of person who can do 9-5. If i was doing the right thing, it could be more tolerable but not necessarily preferable. People suggest freelance to me, and I kinda turn up my nose at it #1 since I have no idea how to get involved, #2 because I'm afraid I couldn't make a living at it.

Ah...I ramble. I guess I'm supposed to be stewing over this stuff. I just hope I come to some kind of conclusion before I'm 40 and a jaded middle aged housewife. :P

Pets are such a stress reliever. I'm babysitting some guinea pigs this week, and I'll be damned if they aren't the cutest squeakiest furry things alive. After a few hours of watching them chase each other around, gnaw on veggies, hide in blankets and wiggling their little noses I was so relaxed I was ready to pass out. I want to be a guinea pig. I want someone to feed me carrots and brush me and give me cardboard tubes to chew. Anyone? Anyone. Darn it.

I don't have my own pets...our leprechaun of a landlord thinks they are (in an irish accent) "smelly little animals". And yet, he would let us have a cat if we wanted.?? I'm not a cat person though. I've got enough of my own issues. I don't need a pet that has issues. Yet another cheerful note...apparently the drummer from Slick Idiot liked my review and requested hi res pictures from me. I'm more than happy to oblige if that's what he wants. Well, off to exercise. boing.

Yes, I am apparently in a mood. Whenever I get cranky, I wind up making more webpages. And, if anyone looks at my site with that knowledge, they might well say...WOW. This is one cranky girl. Of course, the happy perkiness that pervades most of my webstuff wouldn't tell you that. Webpages are just how I vent...it's easy to get absorbed in making one so I can forget whatever is bothering me. I think must be particularly disturbed, as the page I just put up is a strange kind of homage to Ogre...and he's running a deli. My fiancee and I had this whole discussion about how Ogre seems to be fixated some on meat because references appaear in his lyrics quite a bit. Like so many of my ideas for webpages, this one was just plain wrong.

I've been pondering my regrets lately....I find myself in this annoying pattern of wanting to do certain things, but I don't because of fear, or laziness, or perhaps making the wrong decision. So when I miss a chance to do something or take advantage of a certain situation, the first step to the land of regret is general pining. " Oh...why didn't I do that..waaaaaa. blahblahblah. I should have." And then I wallow in that. Then, my imagination (which has its own hidden agenda that even I don't understand) decides to wander off into daydreams that attempt to resolve my regrets by allowing me to relive the situation and visualize what I should have done and what could have happened. This doesn't really help much besides putting me in a languishing, dreamy state that's hard to get out of, and doesn't really bring my feelings to any sort of conclusion. So, then I further obsess about my mistakes until I get grumpy, blowing things out of proportion in my own head, until I eventually have to distract myself with some outside activity to escape my self inflicted bludgeoning.

Along the way somewhere, regret and fear form full blown angst and then I make more webpages in hopes that I can drive other people crazy.

What I really should do, is get out my stompy boots and go give fear a good kick in the ass the next time it tries to talk me out of doing something. Fear is a big problem for me...fear of acceptance, fear of the unknown, fear of myself. I'd like to think I'm better at dealing with it than I used to be, but I find that when I am given chances to change things I still wind up under its reins.
And regret is a hard thing to swallow...if you missed one chance, who knows when it will ever come again. If you're lucky, maybe you'll get a better chance next time. For now, that's what I'm hoping for.

Here comes a nice heavy stream of consciousness... don't let it soak you.
So, I've had a month off of work before school starts, which gives me plenty of time to think. Perhaps too much time in fact. And as I noticed I've been ranting in my little velvet journal quite a bit, i thought perhaps I should continue the pattern of scrawl and tie it in with my website. Mind you, my website is swollen like a middle aged housewife full of yuppie pastries, but that never stops me from adding more crap to it. It's the way I vent. And one of the few things I do that make me feel like I've accomplished something.

Particularly today, I'm noticing the stealthy creeping of angst and melancholy, and despite my wielding a hammer at them, they continue to advance on me. Buggers. I guess I won't be escaping this mood.

I love music, it's a great form of expression and communicative tool. Being a creatively driven person I find that music is not only enjoyable but necessary for my sanity. My musical tastes hover mostly in the area of industrial/electro/synthpop...and some goth, but I am not beyond enjoying bands like U2 or They Might Be Giants.

I've become so involved with music that I've actually become good friends with one of my favorite musicians...that I believe, is a gift. I've taken to helping promote his band in small ways by making fliers and handing them out myself, setting up a fanpage, doing some little tasks for him here and there and giving him feedback on occasion when he asks. I really enjoy that kind of thing, supporting smaller bands and getting the word out about them. I do that sort of thing because I believe in what these artists are doing, and that they deserve recognition for their work....but also because it's the kind of thing I would want someone to do for me. I help others in hope that someday the support will come back around to me.

I'm an artist who is sitting here, in a society where art and music are looked at as frivolous, and are occupations that are never well compensated in money or recognition. I'm going to school for the second time, already up to my ears in debt, and pursuing a second BA that I hope will lead me to a career that I can find meaning in. The time I spent in school before and up until now, was one of frustration. I've never had connections with anyone who could help me get any kind of exposure, or decent job. In the art/music world, that a pretty important thing.I have yet to be in the right place at the right time, and I have yet to find anyone in a position who could help me realize myself.

I was dwelling on this today, in terms of something that happened to me years ago, my first time through college. The story just seems to sum things up for me: I was attacked in my apartment, I was the only one home at the time. Yet, there were people home in the apartments all around me. The building was shabbily made so it was easy to hear your neighbors. When I screamed for help however, now one bothered to do anything. No one even called the police...and that would have been easy to do for someone who didn't want to get physically involved. I had to save myself, because no one else even cared to try. And I did, and because of that I'm still here.

You'd think that the physicality of the attack would have scarred me for sure. What affected me the most, however, was the helplessness and frustration of knowing that there were people all around me who knew something was wrong, but wouldn't lift a finger to help someone who needed it. I came out stronger from that episode, having taken care of myself in a way I didn't think was possible, but nonetheless I still find myself in the similar situations - much less traumatic of course.

I will often go out of my way for people, depending on what they ask of me, because I would want the same from them and I am still waiting for my turn. I'm terrible at patience. And it's odd but I feel like I've accomplished more by using my talents to help others than I have in any creations I've done for myself. Perhaps that's what I should be doing anyway....

Quarter life crisis. Isn't it grand? The search for meaning in a world so full of meaningless trivial things....