Friday, October 2, 2009


This could very easily be one of those pieces that start off with me going on about how much I love October, about how it releases some usually inert or obscured elements of my personality that are now able to stretch and come to light in the dying time. But I decided that, although I guess I did kind of just do that anyway, I would not do that.


Because it seems like everybody does that. And not to be a snob but I feel like I'm one of those people who October really does affect in deep and meaningful ways. And yeah, I know every self important asshole feels like that but this is one self important asshole who wants to make it clear that it's not about personal import, it's about the thick and viscous creativity that wells up and sloshes around every aspect of my being during this month.

Now granted some of this has dwindled now that I live in a part of the world where there really is just one long even season. But temperature is relative and let me tell you, in southern california when it's 50 degrees at 8PM you grab a sweater and maybe even curse the chill, because it's cold to you...

I've always found it interesting that in the season of wither (thanks MC) when things are shutting down human creativity could flourish. But then, doesn't that make some kind of sense? Aren't death and trauma two aspects of life that push us the most to vent and 'deal' with our emotions through our creativity? Doesn't it make sense that our invisible senses would react to the plane of our existence, our vegetable co-habitants of our world reaching the end of their lifespans and settling into decay.

Decay. The word alone has such an artistic trill to it. Decay is nature's residue, and what is art?

Art is the nature of man's residue.

The implications are amazing when you think about it. But really, look at the human artist. People they love die and they write and perform songs that will shape the lives and emotions of generations to come. They struggle with the ego-decay of addiction and it moves them to put pencil to page or voice to story and suddenly a resonance is created that will linger, decaying or, perhaps Haunted is a word better suited for my illustration here. And essentially hauntings are decay on a long and emotionally tangible time-frame.

Decay. I like that. Perhaps I'll write a song about it. After all, it's October now, isn't it???

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