i’m listening to joan jett’s cover of “crimson & clover” on my headphones, a song i have been craving all weekend, but don’t have anywhere in the house. oh, to be alive in 2010, when all i have to do is type the name of a song onto google at the public library & i can be swaying, remembering a tough girl who i miss, who used to blast this song on repeat, going on tangents about how she loved this song because it’s so rare–a rock ‘n’ roll lovesong from a girl to another girl. i wanna sing at the library but i was raised by a librarian so my library manners are fairly good.
anyway. last night i went to art all night, which is one of my favorite pittsburgh events. it’s basically a free, giant art show where anyone at all can submit one piece of art. they’ll hang it in a warehouse, which is open for 24 hours, and you can come look at all the completely random art that people bring in. some of it is brilliant, some is shitty, most is somewhere in between. i was really tired, but i was really happy to be there. there are bands all night too, and some not-really-that-good teen hip hop act was performing (they actually weren’t all teens, they ranged in age from about 17 to about 3) but people loved them, and all these teens in the audience were like totally freaking out, in this abandoned brewery with black mold all over the walls and art art everywhere (there probably were like a thousand pieces, if not more, no joke.) it made me feel so good. like, being around people who create art not for what it’ll bring them, or for any kind of recognition at all, just because it means something to them, because it’s better than being dead inside, because it’s better than anything at all really, BECAUSE CREATING MATTERS.
it was the complete opposite of how i felt at sister spit the night before. i know that the feeling i described in the previous paragraph was the general attitude sister spit was created under, but i wasn’t feeling it. i still had a pretty good time, and i’m glad i went, and i got something out of nearly every performance (the only exception being the one i detailed in the last post.). but it kinda depressed me too in some way, like, it kind of crystallized my boredom with a certain aesthetic, a certain way of being in the world that i, as a queer white girl, am supposed to relate to. but i don’t relate to it anymore, it doesn’t matter like it once did.
i don’t want to be yet another person on the internet who randomly bashes other peoples’ art, especially since i haven’t been doing much with my own lately. i see absolutely no point in any of that. & just because it doesn’t hit me between the eyes at this particular installment of my life doesn’t mean that it’s not worthy; or that i have any right to trash it on the internet. all i’m saying is, i want something more.
got more to say but there’s a storm a-brewin’, literally, a hailstorm coming our way, warned by the emergency alert system, and my cute boyfriend is on the library steps waiting for it and i’d like to join him, to watch the storm roll by, hand in hand.