I have just received your comment Idril.
I knew it had been a while, and there is usually some proportional delay in receiving comments; and the blogs were quite dramatic and important but I didn’t expect this.
I must apologise for the delay regarding all of this; as you can see I was blogging during my time between ‘chunks’ of posts, but I was strapped for time to write and especially record. Just like yourself I have had major end of year type educational commitments that have needed my full and undivided attention (much to the protest of both my studious and non-studious sides). Unfortunately not blogging has not been a holiday; it has just been another thing in the back of my mind that I lament not having the time to do. Everything has been going so fast it has actually scared me. Time is slipping maddeningly through my fingers like the smallest grains of sand.
I curse myself for not going to bed earlier than 11; I’m asleep on the bus going to school; class; break; class; break; class; asleep on the way home; unpack; unwind; procrastinate; dinner; homework; curse myself for not going to bed earlier than 11 – repeat.
The blog is the one thing that I could rationalise to put off; but it is also troublingly high up in the priorities, especially when I am procrastinating.
I haven’t really felt like blogging much in the midst of all this rush; but it’s things like this that make me realise why I do it.
It does, it does matter to me so much so hear you say those things; about literary talent and intensity or the impact it had, none of it is trivial. I am touched and humbled by every bit of it and I’m not sure I feel worthy. That’s a bit of the artistic condition there; to not feel like it was good enough, but do it nonetheless and then wonder what people get out of it; which has been one of my major intrigues on the blog, but I think I have more of an idea now.
You cannot know how appreciative I was and am to hear my art coming back to me like that; and I’m even more grateful to have someone who is able to express it all so eloquently.
Everything that I tried not to lament in light of Amanda’s 20 word reply to my four page handwritten agony of a letter; everything that I ever said about wanting discourse that I could touch and hold and spend some time reading; is exemplified in your comment.
You write so well, it was poetry in itself; and I was there with you on this surreal course as you talked me through listening to it. The subway, the escalator, the crowd, the bus stop, the dust and the light…
Tangible and perfect description that I lost myself in; a flawless visual backdrop that I could never have imagined; with a unique emotional vein.
Comedy and tragedy for both of us, an amazing diffusion of thoughts.
‘Tragic beauty’ you said, my favourite phrase in all the world, that I immediately searched my blog for to see if I had subconsciously jinxed you into saying, but no, it wasn’t there. You cut me to my core. How could you have known? That this was what I had always wanted someone to describe my art as, to describe me and my creations… I am awed and so very thankful.
This is your gift back to me. This is all I ask in return.
It is going to take me a while to realise how much this means to me in terms of… everything.
I always thought that I would permanently be on the other side; be the one who gave the comment and venerated my favourite authors and artists. Or I only hoped for that closeness and esteem later in life, and in a completely different context.
But I realise that this is my art, this is where I am making my mark on the world.
In that wondrous connection that I have never been more sure of. And although I avoid and dislike comparisons; some people might get hundreds of little comments and congratulations on their blog or MySpace, but compared to this they have nothing.
The weight of it all makes me feel something verging on responsibility I guess; the kind that comes with beginning a real friendship.
I found your email address; I saved the comment even though I removed it from the page. I would like to commune other than just through comments and blogs. Although I’m unsure how to begin…
☆Anika☆
between 'Select' and 'Name' to play the file, or 
at the end to download, then wait for your link to appear.
Hi Anika,
ReplyDeleteFirst I have to again apologize for the delay. I felt a twitch of guilt each time i came by your page, seeing the commentless, self-adressed entry calling for me, and having to run because of bad schedule, exhaustion or not much computer availability. And then it happens it's been almost two weeks since i first read it, probably more since you posted it, and almost a MONTH since you wrote it. Talk about a close relationship... I felt like a traitor, but each day since then I've been less and less able to come to the task, becoming more and more perfectionnist at the task and knowing where to start. Making it an actual task on my lists. Making it something i can obsessively procrastinate on... That's why I can be terrible at internet friendships, much to my dismay because those are often some of the deepest i have.. So I'll try and make an effort and not ruin this one as i may have some others.
So let's get to it.
I'm as lost for words as you were. The funny thing is knowing when and how i read this last entry. I spent a week in Ireland, in the cities, Dublin and Belfast, from the 6 to the 12 of september. I don't know why but it shook things in me, and I wasn't feeling that good when i was on my way back. I think I was feeling pretty lonely. At the airport I had a long time waiting, so i decided to plug in all your old entries i had dowloaded on my ipod, listening them at random. More than an hour of listening to you made me wonder where you were, how you were doing - i had had no news since The Horse That Didn't Bolt-, if your state of mind was steadily remaining strong, and finally, how you had reacted to my comment. I looked for an internet spot in the duty free zone for a while without success, and as i gave up and headed to my gate, 10 minutes before boarding, i noticed this coin-operated (ironic, is it ?)internet spot just in front of my gate. I just had the money and time to surf for a few minutes, and this included your page, and that's there, in this brightly lit, pristinely carpeted Dublin airport waiting room that i read parts of your response first. It was strange, in this most anonymous place, at this most solitary moment, to feel this link coming from this screen and tying myself to your words, knowing that those words were adressed to me, because i had spoken to you. Reciprocity.
Time Managing :As I said earlier, I may have the same trouble with time as you describe. Or did. Before Ireland my days were filled with so much to do i couldn't rest. Then it was school again, and surprisingly i don't have that many hours of studies, but they are early and brainwashing, and for now i mostly spent my free afternoons sitting in my bed, sleeping, reading or doing all kinds of very passive, unconstructive, asocial type of things and slipping inch by inch into an incurably passive and defeatist state of mind, not feeling able to do any kind of thing, work or leasure. That probably huge comment is supposed to break that cycle. supposed to.
Not Asking : I would say I was equally surprised at myself. I am a nosy person. I am. That's my nature. I want to know everything, and especially what's hidden from me, the darkest secrets, the greatest fears, the tender part in everyone. Sometimes I scare myself, thinking I'm more curious than sanity wants. That it's not proper. Sometimes I tainted and broke friendship because of that. I guess that's why I didn't ask. I think I wanted to, somehow, let a door open for you to tell me, just suggest it, because I wanted to understand, selfishly, and help. Get it, the mystery of it, but also share the load with this solitary, isolated voice you were on those podcasts. But I didn't. That was not not to taint the story (I think it would still exist in itself, because of all the times i listened to it not knowing, imagining, creating layers of understanding), but to negate this part of myself that I thought was going too far in its curiosity, and try and protect you from myself. You seemed lonely and wanting to talk, but above this you seemed not to want to talk about it. No to want to be bugged with it. I wanted to try and put the respect of that before all kind of curiosity.
And maybe also it is because I thought I guessed it. Probably wrongly.
Tha artistic condition... This one terribly bugs me at the moment, this paradox. It's preventing me from creating anything at the moment, because I don't know, and can't know how good it is... or is not.
Eloquence. I have no merit. I am a litterary sponge. I absorb the Voice of authors and writers when i read or hear them, and then repeat instinctively, sometimes unconsciously, their rythmic patterns, their choice of vocabulary. I guess I had a bit of your Voice in it when i wrote it.
But I'm glad you liked it, my comment, humble reply. That's my loyal, devoted side, which sometimes turns evil. I just cannot not reply, and if I reply, I cannot not reply well, same as I cannot refuse a service I know I could do for a friend, and I cannot not try to find the best gifts at christmas, and have the best attentions. My legendary to do list is full with promises to fulfill, letters to write, people to keep in touch with, presents to send, people to call. But sometimes I get overload and angry at this load, and i keep silent, or worst, get angry at the people themselves for taking such a part in my life... as I somehow did when criticizing the length of your entries. That's another risk of being my friend that you have to know about.
But yes, I'm loyal and devoted, and i write comments as if there was only their author in the world. And I see the good in people, and sometimes I tell them too. Therefore I make a great fan.
I had an icy sensation reading "20 words reply". I remember so clearly you being upset at Amanda -how we met, in the end-, but now I understand the degree of the frustration. I have written a letter to Amanda once, but never finished it, never sent it, and now I'm pondering whether to get into that adventure. But then again, it depends of the 20 words used. It is aweful / but I can picture an Amanda browsing a list of a thousand emails not knowing where to start. But an handwritten letter...
I'm glad you finally got what you where waiting for ... from the world of anonymous people who can only try.
Comedy and Tragedy. I like this quote from Italo Calvino, cited in Stranger Than Fiction : "The ultimate meaning to which all stories refer has two faces: the continuity of life, the inevitability of death.” The first one is Comedy. The second one is Tragedy.
Inevitability of Death.
Continuity of Life.
Now tell me about it.
Tragic Beauty. It was not a guess, it was not magic, no subconscious slip. Tragic beauty is something I have been fascinated with for many years, until recently. Tragic beauty was an artistic obsession that turned into a life ambition. I wanted to be tragic beauty. I just ended up being pathetic.
But I still like it. When it's not as morbidly obsessive as I was, when it describes light as much as darkness. When i was a young teenager i painted colourful ladies on black backgrounds, and people were asking me why I painted so much black. I replied that the important there was the colour, and that the black only allowed it to shine more brightly. Tragedy. Hope. Despair and beauty. Spleen and Ideal, as testified Baudelaire. The only rule is to be subtle and open to the details that drives one out of common drama.
Commune. I could start with a short, inviting mail, but I don't have your address. Maybe you could answer a question, so that you'd have something to say, like someone going on a stage without a speech or a paper, and feel a purpose in writing it. I guess it all comes back to what we would get out of emailing that would be different from the blog. Less depth, more speed, a more personnal speech, more questions, more answers... Maybe you could start by reacting to the questions or interesting parts of my comment (s) there (especially what i'm about to comment on the previous entries), that you wouldn't feel are of interest to include to an entry. You could send me the lyrics to one of your songs that you don't feel yet putting up here but wouldn't mind showing me. You could ask ME a question you always wanted to ask. You could send an haiku, like Amanda did with her producer on yes,virginia (see the Virginia Companion, if you got your hands on it). You could send a cake recipe. A drawing. A picture of blurry feet and lyrics and dictionary. An enigmatic hello. The story of a pony.
Anything.
As soon as I can recognize it one way or the other out of my automatic spam box.
Going into the Box just happen to be the one blog i never finished reading. Yes. The length. But I will. Probably not today, as I have enough to do with the three following entries to this one, but later. I think I'll also come back on some points in some of the other blogs, that i want to reply on each time i listen to them.
Now I will seperate this comment from the rest, and come back in minutes for the rest of the show.
I think I'm taking Revenge.
ReplyDeleteOh yes, soon, my comments will be longer as your entries.
But let's get started with the rest of the Fun
Suck It Up :
I have to say, as I didn't mention it earlier, that I was happy to hear your voice sarcastic and energetic again. It is different. It is less impatient, less breathless with excitment. The base of it is serious and composed, if you understand what i mean. But there is some life back, though a dark veil still hovers in the sunshine.
Sports. So you're a brain but also a sporty girl. Cumulating are you ? I would have have never thought, but I guess I was too focused in the mix of me and Daria you could have been to glimpse that (cf. the wondeful volleyball demonstration in the opening of Daria). But good on you. Sports doesn't like me, and I learned to like some of it ... Now I don't have to practice it and don't come off humiliated with each trimestrial evaluation. I like swimming quite a lot now, actually, and martial arts are amazing, though I'm not particularly brilliant at them. But athletics is still something very foreign to me. I watch the Olympics with awe but I can't related a bit to those running and throwing machine, with my bad knees, my recurrent effort asthma, my aweful vision, and a total lack of coordination. But good on you girl, good on you.
Sport pain, dull muscle pain is great to get one's mind out of thinking and feel one's body, it's true. and victory is great. Sports have this great way of not having much to say about it. You win, you lose, you get what you expected of yourself, or less, but it's all very mechanical, very primary. I think i really need some good tiring training some of those days...
Twilight : I didn't read it, but I heard about it. Not having read it I may not qualify to have an opinion yet, but what i read about it was not exactly encouraging. It sounded a lot like an extended Mary Sue, with a transparent main character and an extraordinary, almost flawless lover, whose qualities are being repeated on and on and on and on. The writing didn't seem that good either. I also heard of the last novel and it seemed really weak to many fans themselves, plus the hidden anti-abortion and housewife life message. But then again, I don't really know. I'd have to get a look at it and decide for myself.
On my side, I'm reading another big landmark in recent fantastic novels, the trilogy of His Dark Material by Philip Pullman. I liked the first book, and i like the grittiness and darkness of it, how it describes the cruelty of both child and adult life and the pressure of an almost victorian world. Some ideas really touched me a lot, like the idea of the daemons (if you haven't read it, animals representing your soul, living along with you). But it is not always well written, and the rythm has serious lacks. In the third books, I found some ideas a bit too delirious to my taste, but still, I think I overall like it and I got attached to some of the character and to the world. If you haven't read it, this is my suggestion to you ^^.
I'm happy you get to be happy and appreciative, open and almost buddhist, as you said. It is great to live an aweful experience and get out of it heightened, stronger and more glad of what you have, rather than irremediably tainted, which is the other option. A beautiful sublimation you operated, from led to gold.
One Imperfect Day :
ReplyDeleteYes this time I'm again unchronological.
This entry was interesting for the 24 hours evolution it described in real time, without the mask of consequences past.
Snoring is one of my major pet peaves too, as any kind of disturbance that could prevent me from enjoying my dear, darling sleep. But past nights of sleeping in hotels with my mother (who is, also a major offender -how i love this word you chose), or in hostels with dozen/half-dozens of strangers where i contamplated how i would kill each and every one of them in turn with the most suffering, i turned to earplugs. Dear, precious earplugs. I highly recommend them to you if any of this would happen again.
By the way, i loved the phrasing and speaking of the rant. Heh. And I was glad to hear you ranting again. Means you're going well enough :).
What were the requirements for the course ? Maybe one day if you're still interested, you'll have them complied and could start the course. But now I'm thinking of it, maybe the course would not be the best for you, as you thought later on. Music course generally leads either to teaching or practicing in a quite structured environnement (orchestra, as a job for a company etc etc). I don't think it would be your type, learning all this complicated business about notes, rythms, gradations, tones, in a very strict and scholar manner. I is not exactly music you're passionate about, i think. It's drama, it's litterature, it's the music in words and performance, but not the science of music itself, and all its tedious work and rigor, strainful training, academic expectation. Which doesn't mean you can not *make* music. But maybe the best for you is to get there by your own way, which is English and Drama. And you can always snitch into a music lecture if you feel like it... But you already know it apparently.
cooking your grandmother :D ... and poor Doug...
Are you going to live at your grandmother's then ? Once you're used to the Melburnian way of life maybe you'll be able to find a part time job and get your own room. So many of my friends were doing that i don't even count anymore. If it's La Trobe, the rent is pretty cheap in that area. Centerlink might even provide you with some help ... I don't know I never really got how it all worked.
I think you're even more lucid about the purpose of University than I ever were. I never wanted to admit that it is it, just another way to make us fitful workers for the real big world that I don't want to jump in. But even now that (succequently to numerous painful life realisations plus your entry) i know that, i still think that some of us find realisation of selves within University. It is just a blessed chance, not the main purpose. Some teachers are truthfully enlightening, some will teach you things that have value for art and knowledge itself more than for function and utility, but they are few.
When I chose, I chose practicality, I chose the job behind it. But recently I had regrets I didn't go to art school. That i didn't go and try to realize my dream through university, because university is still much more full of possibilities and freedom than the real world behind it. But thinking of it now I would have been wrong, probably. It was not the time, I would not have resisted the pressure, would not have been happy with what i did. etc. I will never know. I don't want to be just a professional. But i cannot not be one.
English and Drama. Indeed. SOunds obvious now. Double degree, then turning yourself into education, because, as you said in the previous entry that i have not commented yet, you are obviously good at it. English for the job, Drama for the soul. Melbourne, city of opportunities, could turn the drama into music and perfomance, with the help of the many like minded souls you'll probably find. Free time is plenty, and if you organize you can be all that you want. Education is actually a great job to keep on with music. I know many highschool teachers having semi-professional bands on the side : shorter days of work, holidays to tour, constant intellectual stimulation. That would work. Maybe you'll never be a national or international star. But you could have your local prestige, and it sounds lame but it's actually A LOT.
Isn't that a neat career plan ?
I love your idea of coming abroad. That would be grand. Oh yes, do it, and maybe, if I'm in France at the moment, I'll be able to come across. You'll like England. You'll mix well with your accent. You'll like the humour and the culture, maybe not the weather.
I'm glad you learned from what i said. I'd have to say i most often do not follow my own advices and sometimes is as in desbelief as you are concerning such things i said, but i guess i was very lucid and optimistic at this point of time and therefore a good one to listen to. Life as journey. I'm glad you're finding your path after many detours.
And finally.
ReplyDeleteMake it all stop.
You do seem to be busy, my dear. Straining. And overstraining yourself. I didn't really quite get why you overdid so much on the Poe essay. By defiance or just because you wanted to say that much ?
I heard the song I kissed a girl when I was in Ireland. I stopped dead in my track and wondered out loud "what the fuck is THAT?". First, who cares who you kiss, Katy Perry. Kissed a girl ? big deal. Most girls have at some point. This is only groundbreaking news for hardcore christians. Second, this is just a way of talking about sex openly on the radio without being censored, because censorship would be attacked as homophobic. and Third... gah. Second grade lyrics writing. "I cooked myself pasta and i liked it, the taste of pepperoni." Whatever.
I thought it was hilarious. Pretty much coming to the point hehehe. But indeed some improvement can be made on the pitch, which is a bit approximative. That's good you still put it and kept it online even though you had bad feedback. Your disappointment was sad to hear. Feedback hurts. I'm so very often afraid of singing or showing some of my singing to people, not being very confident about it, and even if i get confident, the backlash can still hurt. I remember singing at the end of the year show for my singing lessons, and i though it was relatively good, but when i saw the video, i was appalled at my speech. I don't even need other feedabck, i'm harsh enough with myself to have myself shut up for a while... But .. That's not the solution. It's good to hear feedback because utlimately you sing for other people, except if you go to some desertic place and sing very loudly there, but the act of singing is mostly for other ears, and therefore it must please at least some of them. But, well, when improvement is needed, improvement can often be done. It's hard developping a good ear when you're not a musician, and hearing whether you're on pitch or not. Once you hear it, you still have to ear it in your mind very clearly ("visualize" it, in a way) and be able to reproduce it, without too much pitch variation or trembling... hard work !and well, this song is not exactly easy because the voice has been so overdubbed and it's so close to speech that it's pretty hard to get the pitch on which she's singing... and it keeps changing .. damn.
Boys... Hormoans... Teenage years...= deathly confusing mess. I had such moments in my early, early teenage years, when i was the nerdy nerd of the class, a physical joke, socially inept. I still think one of the trouble makers had something for me, though it could have been a joke, but ... I wonder... maybe it's some kind of hormoans that makes brain attractive ?
Being an hypocrit.... I'm already taking revenge.. When i decide finally to open up my blog, you'll have more to complain about :D
laughed at "life is life.
And mine just happens to be nothing but a bunch of disordered shit at the moment."
You're getting away with it indeed. Careful not to take too much ease, this time of freedom might come to an end sooner than you think.. you never know when people start thinking you're abusing their generosity...
I love the parallel you made with this Amanda quote i didn't know.
Teaching. It's really cool you've find a calling in it. Though it's easier to connect with "students" when you're one yourself, and it's hard to get authority when you're supposed to have it .. tricky. I just saw "Entre les murs" ("between the walls") the french film that got the golden palm at Cannes this year. It's about a teacher in junior highschool, teaching very difficult classes. I shouldn't advise you to see it, as it shows the hardest and most despairing bits of the work, but it's still a great movie, and you probably will never have to deal with such classes...
But teacher is such a beautiful job. Bringing kids to a better understanding of world, society and art, to have them get the skills to get a more equal footing on life's opportunity, have them get the knowledge and self teaching skills to get where they want, be who they want to be, and think by themselves... freing them, in a way. Of course, that's not how it happens in practice, but that's the spirit. I think I would lost my marbles being a teacher, but i considered it for about 5 minutes (as any other job in the world from flowerist to astronaut). If you can indeed express yourself well and clearly, be patient but sarcastic, help people, you might be a great teacher.
Life is an adventure. Embrace it. I guess i should start following my own advice.
Yes, you've changed.
So now this is the end, for the moment. I might indeed go back to comment Going into the box and others, but not now, not at 1AM with blurry eyes and hours of writing behind me.
Much love
Idril
Oh my there is certainly a lot to catch up on your blog as well - songs, podcasts, blogs. I like the podcast idea, I was just playing one while cleaning my room (hope you don't mind) and it was like NPR- public radio with an Australian accent. I might have to start downloading and listening on my walks.
ReplyDeleteTill I have something more substantial: your voice - in podcast, song, and blog is becoming clearer and more mature. I'm glad to see we're all growing.
great
ReplyDeleteFirst i must concur with the far more expressive and timely Idril...
ReplyDelete"I felt a twitch of guilt each time i came by your page, seeing the commentless, self-adressed entry calling for me, and having to run because of bad schedule, exhaustion or not much computer availability"
As commenting on your blogs and generally maintaing a somewhat squandered string of communication that began on an amanda palmer blog , is something that for an overly long time has taken a back seat to my everyday life....
i assure you your blog is not alone on this list of items in my backseat...
oh that i had an actual car for all this backseat luggage, would it make me somehow more motor- able and task efficient? i think not...so ill stick to the metaphor
hopefully this weekend will give me sometime to catch up on those things including reading your blog in its entirety, however for now i can only wish you the best and that in the face of doubt, your words, and thoughts and heart do still drift in and out of my consciousness more frequently then i see fit, or able to let you know about.
you have amanda palmer again to thank for this short electronic literary ditty to you...a continued inspiration and reminder of things and people i now connect with her...
love and light
D
Oh, well, not dead yet i hope ? Give a sign of life, some time, so that i can stop have a little worry when i check by :P
ReplyDeleteThanks for writing this.
ReplyDelete