ever memory
"Blame" - The Maine
I've crossed into mid-life, but I feel like the crisis started years ago.
I've spent a lot of time looking back. I wish I could say it's nostalgia. But it's regret actually.
I take the blame for so much. So often. So easily. Perhaps needlessly. When, in most cases, the issuance of blame is either not applicable or unnecessary. We regret and blame purposelessly.
According to Nietzsche if there are no purposes then there are no accidents either. He chose to see things as arising out of necessity. He said that "I want to learn more and more to see as beautiful what is necessary in things; then I shall be one of those who makes things beautiful." His goal was neither "to accuse" nor "to accuse those who accuse", but to be "only a Yes-sayer". Amor Fati Nietzsche called it. It's something
and I spoke about recently. The Love of fate. To always say "yes" to the life we have lived. To always say "yes" to life as it is. And, if given the choice, to choose to do it all over again.
drowning slowly
"Brick" - Ben Folds Five
I had a conversation with
about my process. About the way I approach each of these pieces. He asked whether it was a matter of strategy or intuition? It's more a both/and than it is an either or. It's a call and response. A kind of dance, in a way.I look for contrasts and compliments. Layers and juxtapositions. I shift things around until the feel right. Until they feel wrong. And, until the feel right again.
I like writers, artists, and musicians who do things similarly. Who put discordant things into a kind of harmony.
The first time I heard Ben Folds Five it was on an episode of a show called Sessions at West 54th. I was blown away by their blend of pop sensibilities, jazz-like instrumentation, and punk-rock energy.
When this song showed up on one of my daily Spotify Playlists, I knew I had to so something with it.
like you mean it
"Smile Like You Mean it" - The Killers
Since I've been doing this Collage Paper Playlist project for a while I've started listening to music differently. Number one, now I always make sure to do it with a notebook handy. And, number two, sometimes songs that never meant much to me I listen too more attentively.
I've never been a fan of The Killers. They're fine. I don't hate them. I just don't find their music to be particularly interesting.
But this song came on while I was at the gym this week, and the phrase "like you mean it" grabbed me. I immediately thought of a picture in my pile of collage materials. A noisy photo of a smiling woman. And I knew I had an idea worth exploring.
That's the funny thing about inspiration. Sometimes you find it uninspiring things.
Even after I finished this piece. I still couldn't get the phrase out of my head. So I made these two pieces as well.
walk away
"In Between Days" - The Cure
This isn't an official request per se but...a couple weeks ago
requested The Cure.I did one piece , yes, but I listened to A LOT of The Cure that week and made quit a few notes and sketches for other pieces inspired by their songs.
The presence of my dark traveling companion known as depression was more predominating than usual, and that long black veil lay heavier across me. What else is there for one to do in such a situation but to build a blanket fort out of it, make some art, and listen to copious amounts of The Cure? I found myself in similar circumstances this week. So here's another one.
on and on
"In Circles" - Holding Absence
In the conversation I was having with Daniel Barber he recommended a band called Holding Absence. The tension and paradox implicit within the name alone garners my attention. It's especially interesting given that one of the topics in last week's playlist was the idea of an absent-presence. Many of you commented on feeling a resonance with this description as well.
I mentioned to
that John O' Donohue's book Eternal Echoes was indispensable in my understanding of a vacancy teeming with everything. Here are a few passages I hope you'll appreciate:"Every person suffers the absence of their past. It is utterly astonishing how the force and fibre of each day unravel into the vacant air of yesterday. You look behind you and you see nothing of your days here. Our vanished days increase our experience of absence. Yet our past does not deconstruct as if it never was. Memory is the place where our vanished days secretly gather. Memory rescues experience from total disappearance."
"All absence", O' Donohue, "is full of hidden presence.
That’s it for this week’s playlist. If there’s something you’d like to see or hear on an upcoming playlist, or if you have any recommendations, feel free to leave them in the comments.
Take Care.
I was just sitting here trying to catch up on some pieces I'd been meaning to read (this being one of them) and was so confused when I saw my name pop up in here 😂 I swear Substack never notified me about it. And then I kept reading and saw Holding Absence in there (and it's one of my favourite songs!!), and I can't even tell you how excited that made me.
The collages are stunning, as always. I also really like your thoughts on the "Holding Absence" name, and the passage from "Eternal Echoes," it's given me a lot to think about. Been listening to the playlist as well, and am loving it, especially "blame."
I fear that I'm going to have to make more recommendations (I honestly can't help myself with music), although there's no pressure to take them into consideration. I want to recommend "Worlds on Fire" by The Butterfly Effect for the vibe of the music, and The Day That I Ruined Your Life by Boston Manor because I adore its aesthetic.
Okay, I'm actually going to add O'Donohue's book to my list--right now. Haha. [Done.]
In my personal work toward wholeness after trauma, memory isn't the most reliable container for the past. But with O'Donohue, I'm thinking of myself as ghost, always haunting every place I've ever been. For my Substack, I'm working on how thinking with objects--a beloved sweatshirt, say--can help us listen to these ghosts and patch together their stories.
Thanks for sharing!