I got to have some fun at work today, with me and a student digging through crates of old donated records that have been sitting down in the basement for how long. We were trying to pull albums that would actually sell on the booksale shelf, something other than Barbra Streisand and Mantovani's 101 strings. Found some good stuff that's now ripe for the picking by the masses that frequent my place of employment.
I keep thinking "I'll take a day and chill" and it just hasn't happened... every day is something new and crazy and while I love it, I haven't touched my paints, haven't picked up a colored pencil, haven't had a night to light candles and sketch and listen to music and get introspective.
In other words, be the antisocial kid I was in high school and the eccentric college roommate who spent her weekend nights listening to records and painting while her roommates were out doing whatever else.
And I guess it's good that life is full and people actually make an effort to hang out with me and life didn't end once I entered the "real world." I feel like I've learned more about life in general since I moved back to Cleveland than I ever did in college, simply because similar musical and literary taste is not the basis for most of my friendships anymore and I've realized how shallow that criteria can be.
I'm beginning to believe that while subculture can make you feel more cultured, it can also narrow your perspective just as much because of its sheer insularity. More on this when I'm more coherent.
And I need another graffiti day. I haven't had one since February and I know there's all sorts of new art to discover.