Do you ever get that feeling where you’re right on the edge of something brilliant, but you’re too lazy to think of it?
Part of me reckons I’ve got a touch of artistitisafter a slight cold which I’ve given most people in the immediate vicinity, but there’s no diagnosis for the dreaded AA. So I need Mindless songs and someone to bounce ideas off. Good thing that next week I’m in Scarborough with school, learning about erosion, discordant coastlines and Flamborough, amongst Yorkshirians. Yorkists.
Actually, I’ve been listening to Green Day on YouTube while brainstorming blog ideas and banging out my BRAND NEW AWESOME Morningwood CD, Diamonds & Studs, and it’s given me a kick up the backside to play guitar again. Or at least invest in stickers.
I think I’ll go and read bad, bad fan fiction on DeviantART now, but I’m learning about the automatic-update thing on here so there may be an amusing post up sometime next week, to amuse you all while I’m away wrestling Ruby off a cliff ledge.
Wish me luck… I get the feeling she’s stronger than she looks.
This video was made by Chantal Claret, who I mentionedbefore:
Go to www.morningwoodrocks.comto see the making of the video, which is amusing because a) everything is DIY and inspiring, and b) you can hear Jimmy chuckling in the background.
Anyway, I was thinking about this blog at some point in the last week, and how so many ‘journalist’s blogs’ are really just spaces for whining posers who tell themselves that the reason they haven’t got a big break is because no one understands them, or they have so much talent it’s painful, which automatically means the world hates them. Same with a lot of ‘artists’ and ‘musicians’.
I find this quite funny, and every time I think I’m heading toward ‘artistitis’, as it will henceforth be known, I resolve to never contract such a dreadful disease. If I do, I will embark on a medicine of Mindless Self Indulgence songs and write about stuff people want to read, or at least something that is vaguely interesting. Something like, I don’t know, my friends. They rock, even the wierd ones.
I highly doubt this blog will ever reach BBC News or have a thousand hits a week, just like I highly doubt I will never earn a pot of cash from writing fiction stories or touring in a van with rock bands, smelling of petrol stations. I don’t think I really want to, though. The main way of inoculating yourself against artistitis is to not bother with the red carpet dream, or the fantasy that you’ll receive thousands of fan-made gifts every birthday. You don’t need them if you’ve got the things you care about around you, like your friends, your dog, or a new karate grade.
I can’t find a picture of LiZzi or Ruby or my cousins and I at the grading we did a couple of weeks ago, so meet Fred.