“All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle.” - St. Francis of Assisi
Hey invisible people who will never read this.
My computer is at 8% but I feel like I must update this meaningless Tumblr page. Right now I am out of the country. Where am I? Well that’s for me to know and you to never ask. I am south of the border and I’ve yet to walk in the rain whilst listening to Herb Alpert. Do headphones and water mix? I hope not because death by music would be a happy death.
I’ve been doing a ton of writing. I’ve acquired some new writing instruments that serve as bridges between my mind and paper.
I’ve been doing a lot of writing. I haven’t written anything on this tumblr, in such a long time.
I feel motivated to write this tonight. Here it goes.
Who are you? We are all who we say we are. We are us. We are men and we are female. We are our names and we are our family. We are our clothes and we are our bodies. We are the tissues that we use to wipe the tears from our eyes. We are we.
Today was Record Store Day, a day where people celebrate records. I didn’t do any shopping due to my lack of interest in current music. I am not as interested in physical ownership of music as I used to be. Perhaps my small affection for minimalism is responsible for that. Anyways, I already own too many vinyl, CDs and other music paraphernalia. I am guilty of downloading music, burning CDs and streaming music online. I am too selfish to go out and buy physical records. This is the consequence of having an obsession with independence and refusing funds from family and an attraction to solitude. When I was younger than I am today, I was the type of person who would buy multiple copies of the same CD. I’d buy the import, deluxe edition, LP, CD and digital version. Yes, I would spend well over 100 dollars on something that was worth 15 dollars.
This new semi-philosophy is just a few months old. This year, I was still buying multiple copies of Morrissey’s Autobiography.
So to get back to my question of who are you. Today the Dresden Dolls’ self-titled album was released on vinyl. I didn’t go buy it because I found out about this late at night via Twitter, way after the record stores were closed. I was mildly upset by the fact that I didn’t get to own something as precious as their first album on vinyl, specially since only 3000 copies were made.
To be honest with you, this makes me depressed and I am SAD. I first discovered the Dresden Dolls back when my internet provider was SBC and the homepage was set to Yahoo.com. I enjoyed listening to Yahoo Radio and on their homepage I saw handsome Brian Viglione and beautiful Amanda Palmer. I knew Amanda was female but I was more drawn to Brian’s androgynous appearance on the cover of their first studio album. I listened to the songs Coin-Operated Boy and Girl Anachronism. The music videos were much just as good as the songs. This was immediate true love for these two people who seemed like time-travelers from a time where people were much sincere and true. I thank the internet for this, just as a person who discovers their true love on a dating website would. I was in a relationship with the Dresden Dolls and they came in the perfect time to save me from Marilyn Manson’s upcoming horrible albums.
The love grew once I bought their album and at 15 years old, I had my mom drive me to buy their second album, Yes, Virginia, on the day it was released. To me this was a victory, to purchase something on the day it came out. Submerged in music and high off music, my middle school grades slipped and I started dating people, I’ve never met. I started dating ghosts like Marc Bolan and Elvis Presley. As disillusioned as this sounds, I was true to my heroes. They were my dads, they were my mothers, my brothers, my sisters, my Gods. I worshipped their words.
The Dresden Dolls’ lyrics told stories, they contained meaning and as young as I was, I could relate to their words. At least that’s what I thought. I was foolish but I admire the foolishness of a child because nowadays, being a fool is something people avoid but foolishness is beautiful. Foolishness is the silence between reality and an illusion.
I feel horrible that I am listening to the Dresden Dolls’ album on iTunes rather than on my record player. I feel guilty and I feel like I’ve betrayed young Christian. Every song on that damn album was my favorite. Favorite was 672. I didn’t know what the fuck that song was about but Amanda’s voice… I don’t know how to describe the feeling.
Sadly enough, my life got in the way of my life. Unable to keep up with amandapalmer's tweets, I fell out of distance from her. I hold closely to my heart what I know about her and to know her is to listen to her.
To get back to my question, who are you?
You are your teenager years, you are your fears, your loves, you are your handwriting, you are your insecurities, you are your loves, you are your heroes, you are your loves.
Nobody is probably listening but I feel obliged to updated my blog with some sort of content, specially since re-reading this in the future is always exciting.
I’ve been out of the loop lately because I’ve been extremely busy with school and work.
Since I was allowed to hold a camera with the trust from adult that I wouldn’t drop it, I’ve always been fascinated with capturing mundane moments. I don’t like to use to the word mundane in this paragraph but it’s the easiest way to put it. Look up the photographer Richard Billingham and you’ll see some of the world’s most beautiful photographs to me. I say this because I think that photography is a wonderful way to capture history and preserve it forever. Like all things though, there’s always exceptions of a fire destroying your photographs or some natural disaster or accident. Put logic aside and you get the most glorious gift to humanity. The camera. My vocabulary struggles for the perfect words to describe this feeling, without the occasional words and a thesaurus might be useful.
As long as your camera is useful and captures in quality, the content is all great. I believe there’s no such thing as bad photography, unless a bad camera is used. I’d love to ditch my job and photograph life. Document lives.