I don't know if this blog will ever be popular, and I don't know if it is the intent. I mean who cares what I think sitting at a cafe in San Francisco, in The Mission District?
Nobody.
Regardless, I have to write. Otherwise, I can't hear myself think.
I had a hard time getting started this morning.
My only mission was to get the hell out of my art studio, and to the cafe.
There isn't a lot of air in my studio, and no windows, so it is good to not be there all day long.
There is this thing called 'Studio Death' that I discovered long ago in my art studios in L.A. Basically hat happens is things get really still, and you wonder why you are even trying to make art at all, and for whom.
Things kind of get meaningless.
But I could sit at my typewriter for hours and jam out.
I sure did waste a lot of time washing dishes. I don't know what the fun of that was.
I got to be around people, that was something. I actually liked that at times. Also, there was no shortage of babes around.
Anyhow, here I am in the cafe.
I have some business to take care of today. I have to make a phone call or two.
So, I need a job. I don't know what I can do for anybody else. I seem to do fine for myself. I like working for myself. I can go all day, because I believe in what I am doing. It is better than working for somebody else. What I do is get my own stuff out there, with my name on it.
Mostly, I call working at a job, 'working on somebody else's art project'.
The problem is, "Where is the paycheck?"
My answer for that right now is, "I don't know".
A baby was just crying in here. It's amazing how adults will tolerate a baby crying, but only for so long.
Maggie from 'The Simpsons' doesn't cry all that much, except with a tear if somebody takes her pacifier.
I watched a whole disc of Simpsons episodes last night from season 5. They are some pretty good episodes. I was enjoying them immensely. Just the amount of work that goes into those shows is amazing. Everything is hand drawn. That is sick.
I'm lucky to draw up a single page of comics these days.
All I want to do is a Simpsons parody but use my own family. I'd like to see that. My family would not like that much. I don't know what good it would do to do that cartoon, except to make me laugh. It would be great to get everybody to do their own voices. Of course, the parents and my brother Dan would have to be done by somebody else, since they are dead.
'Sesame, egg and cheese,...sesame', the coffee lady said to the cafe. Someone's bagel was done.
It's nice to get people's actual words.
How we say and use words define us.
It talk to these kids on 'Clone Wars Adventures' in the chat box, and that can be a chore at times. Sometimes I get annoyed, but sometimes it is nice to have people to talk to.
What I really want to talk about is I got onto 'Free Realms' last night, and all I did was hang out in the swamp. I found this quest from this npc kid named 'Martin', and all I did was search around the swamp for items. I had to look for three different items. I had to find five of each, and for the flowers by the gravestones, I had to find ten.
It was fun, and kind of a pain to go looking around, but I completed my quests, and returned the plants to some dude to complete the quest.
Free Realms is a great game for just doing stupid quests like that where it isn't too easy or too difficult. There is actually hope you can do them, unlike some other games where it can seem pretty impossible without three other people helping you.
I had a good time.
It's too bad I can't play Free Realms or Clone Wars on this laptop at the cafe. The internet is a little too slow, and this laptop doesn't have the graphics capability required.
It is just as well, since I would never get my writing done.
I often think about how it can take more time to write a good blog entry then to make an entire video. I've already spent a half hour on this one.
I like the look of a long blog entry on my blog page. It looks good. It doesn't even seem to matter what I write about, as long as tons of words are there to show that I can produce a lot of words.
I don't think I have what it takes to be a professional writer. I don't seem to do the professional kinds of things that writers do, like making something interesting to read, for example. My technique is to just write whatever comes to my mind and let it all go to hell if that is where it is intended to go.
The work of writing involves reading it over, making changes, and to try and make it suitable for people to read.
I like to read when authors just go into their own lives and get personal every once in a while.
I like Charles Bukowski, Henry Miller, William S. Burroughs, and others who really get into the personal things of their lives. It makes it fun for me.
I suppose the New York literary establishment still doesn't think much of Bukowski because he is somewhat 'lowbrow'. Yet, his novels are very accessible and funny.
The people at The New Yorker don't know everything. Hardly anyone there has ever read Stephen King, and he's arguably 'America's Greatest Author'. He certainly knows how to write, and he writes stuff people like to read, which is better than some stuffy book that no one cares about.
So, my brain wasn't working too well between 7 and 9 a.m. this morning. I was running on low power.
Computers are so good for metaphors these days. People know what you are talking about when you say that your power supply was low and you needed a recharge. They understand 'sleep mode'. Any other number of things that I would say right now if I could remember anything else that might apply. Maybe it will come to me later.
It must be embarrassing for anybody who knows me to read my work, especially if it isn't up to par.
I haven't been exactly wowing the art world lately, that is for sure. I'm going to have to do something about that.
I know how to get tons of hits on youtube, which is just film myself painting a naked lady from the backside. That seems to be acceptable, since youtube doesn't seem to be into full frontal nudity. It's okay to show nudity depending on the context. I've seen fully naked women give birth in a bathtub. One video I saw of that was really sweet, but birthing videos mostly gross me out. I've never seen what happens with the placenta, no body films that, probably with good reason.
I don't have any children, and I have o plans for any, either. There really does seem to be enough people in the world.
Also, I can barely provide for myself, much less anybody else.
Funny to write now. I seem to know what I want to say and how to say it. That comes from twenty years of writing crap on a typewriter.
It did take me a while to switch from a manual typewriter to a keyboard.
For the laptop I have right now, I have a little USB external keyboard which is really nice to use. It makes it nice and easy to produce a lot of words.
I got burned out writing essays in school. I didn't know what the point of them was. The words never came easy for me. No one was ever going to read them.
The seventeen people who may have looked on this blog is more than anybody who ever read my college essays.
In a way, I almost don't even want this blog to become popular, because then it will feel as if my own little private world will be invaded.
Then it will feel as if I am performing for people, and it might take the fun out of it.
I guess we'll see what happens, but I don't think I have to worry about that anytime soon.
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