Small Town Girl

Yesterday, I took a short bus ride to the next small town over. It is even more of a small town than ours is. The main drag, to me seems like more of a super-established crafters fair than anything else. None the less, I enjoyed myself.


There are so many strange things to be found in antique stores, and sometimes it brings me comfort; we hear the complaint ever so often, from those who collect antiques, that things are just not made the way they used to be. That products now, are made to be used and promptly disposed of and they have no real meaning. But then I see the things that are collecting dust on these shelves and I think, well, that item seems rather useless. And yet, I see it as being beautiful and useful, simply because it is more than ten years old.
Thinking that way, I have hope for the materials I surround myself with.
That's actually a concept that I've been toying around with a lot lately. Are old things really all that beautiful and quality? Or is it their age that lends them such preciousness? I read an article about the sudden need for the conservation of buildings from the seventies. The article noted that, in the past, buildings constructed in the seventies, or the dreaded "Seventies takeover" of pre-existing buildings were shunned and discounted by those that admired the architecture, of buildings built before those times. But now, these buildings are getting attention, because they've entered the realm of antiquities. But it's hard to wrap one's head around. When does something stop being merely outdated and become an antique?

And I start to think: When will I go through such a transformation?

And more naggingly: How can I avoid it?

Seattle Trip

A couple of weeks ago, North and I headed down to the city. We took buses and made many transfers. It was scary. But we had a lot of fun.

This is the little "Fix-your-coffee-you-splenda-fiend" kiosk inside of Zeitgeist Coffee. I had played a show here once and the aesthetic is identical to mine. I love everything about the place and could take photographs of everything and post them all. But I didn't because a) I don't want to bore you further to tears b) it's really hip and slick in there and I didn't think they'd appreciate my tearful gesticulating and picture-snapping. In any case, if you're ever in my city, you should check out Zeitgeist. It gorgeous and the coffee is zingy.

North and I are both playing Fallout: New Vegas lately. It's a really good game, in case you were wondering. Anyway. I wanted this poster-thing to hang somewhere. But I figured that anyone serious enough to hang such a poster on the outside of a building could probably kick my ass in the event of me stealing said poster. So I left it.

Look it's a bird. A blue bird on a brick wall. Sounds like a haiku waiting to happen!

"A blank space on a brick wall,

put a bird on it,

and don't let anyone see you,"

Finally, North and I got this thing that allows up to three people (3!) listen to the same iPod at once. And it looks like a tree! On the way home, we were listening and North fell asleep while listening. I didn't really notice until he shot up from his seat, gasping for breath. Shostakovich was screaming into the headphones. I felt bad.

We'll get the hang of it.

Difficult

This makes me sad.
This last week, for reasons palpable and also, somewhat intangible, has made me feel a disappointment in people. It's unlike me, I think. In general, I like people. They smile and say funny things. And if they're not funny or clever, at least they're kind, right? Decent.
Perhaps I'm just tired. Very often, for me, that is at the root of things. But it's a feeling that has been growing in me, I think, for a really long time.
I've been propegating this realization; that I prefer- need- to be around people who disassociate themselves from their pasts and from their self-indulgences. So often, it feels like people don't listen carefully. I leave places knowing that I have spoken but that nobody heard what I said, or if they did, they only had nasty things to say in return. Lately, this feels like it is the case. Maybe I'm just not interesting.
But again, I am tired, and this is the end of the year.
Mum and I think it might have something to do with the music too. I'm listening to a lot of Sufjan Stevens who, I think it is safe to say, thinks pretty deeply. It's hard not to want that in places other than music. Maybe, I've just got to switch things up a bit. Listen to stuff that's a little less heavy maybe? Gaga, can you hear me?
I have good plans for the summer, because, guess what, school is out. I don't really know when that happened, but I'm glad it has arrived. I have plans of things to make. Music to learn. I'll probably be working more than last year, but that is appropriate, I think. My peers have far more stressful and demanding jobs than I do.
So, the sun has come out and it's shining on things and making them clean. Everyone is upstairs and we are quiet and humming. Being with them makes me feel better, like I've finally been unknotted. I still don't really want to be with most people (save a few), but this is good.