Most of you probably don't know this, but this Sunday is National Play Your Ukulele day. So listen to some Kate Micucci, my girl Najme or, if you're feeling adventurous, go on youtube and start looking at random vids. This one is courtesy of Kingsford who was the first one to see my uke after I got it last Spring.
Go big.
-M, p, z & shredder
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
I Used to be Creative...
When I was in high school a friend of mine was in a band. I mean, so was I and everyone else, but this kid was in a legit band and still, 10+ years later, makes money off making music. Anyway, one day he was listening to my shitty band and told us of how he used to enjoy being in a band and having fun just fucking around like we were. He missed the days of playing and not rehearsing. He said music became a chore and no longer felt the same way about it.
I'm about to start my third week of school and right now, in this moment, I no longer enjoy thinking. Not that school has been especially hard or emotionally taxing or any other bullshit people say, but it's been strange. Writing screenplays and treatments is fun. I love writing and I love characters. I love putting myself into people I create and having them lead lives of my quiet desperation. Writing 50 shitty headlines about Chapstick and Ziploc bags only to be reminded that I suck at writing is not fun - it's a chore. Writing 50 headlines this week about fucking Claritin D 24 is agonizing, because I know slightly more than I did two weeks ago but not enough to be any better at it and it's cumbersome to say the least. Am I going to suck this week? Yes. Undoubtedly. Will I get better? Obviously. I just want that to be now. As many of you know, my kind exterior, while not a ruse, does somewhat conceal the fact that I'm as cocky and confident as Lenny Kravitz around a pre-paid prostitute. I hate not being good at things, and not being good at something I love is not so much frustrating as it is literally driving me to drink. Whiskey. Why whiskey? Because that's what real writers drink. And I'm a writer. By trade. Just not by income. Yet. All the greats drank. Kerouac. Balzac. Hemmingway. Hank fucking Moody. Whatever.
I'm blogging today for all you faithful sad little bastards out there who read my blog on the weekend. Carpe diem. Go big.
-M, p, z & shredder
I'm about to start my third week of school and right now, in this moment, I no longer enjoy thinking. Not that school has been especially hard or emotionally taxing or any other bullshit people say, but it's been strange. Writing screenplays and treatments is fun. I love writing and I love characters. I love putting myself into people I create and having them lead lives of my quiet desperation. Writing 50 shitty headlines about Chapstick and Ziploc bags only to be reminded that I suck at writing is not fun - it's a chore. Writing 50 headlines this week about fucking Claritin D 24 is agonizing, because I know slightly more than I did two weeks ago but not enough to be any better at it and it's cumbersome to say the least. Am I going to suck this week? Yes. Undoubtedly. Will I get better? Obviously. I just want that to be now. As many of you know, my kind exterior, while not a ruse, does somewhat conceal the fact that I'm as cocky and confident as Lenny Kravitz around a pre-paid prostitute. I hate not being good at things, and not being good at something I love is not so much frustrating as it is literally driving me to drink. Whiskey. Why whiskey? Because that's what real writers drink. And I'm a writer. By trade. Just not by income. Yet. All the greats drank. Kerouac. Balzac. Hemmingway. Hank fucking Moody. Whatever.
I'm blogging today for all you faithful sad little bastards out there who read my blog on the weekend. Carpe diem. Go big.
-M, p, z & shredder
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
4 Chords...
Just wanted to share this as well. This is pretty hilarious/awesome.
-M, p, z & shredder
-M, p, z & shredder
The Summer Tease...
I can't decide if I hate or love that first gorgeous week of Spring. You know the one where it's 70s and 80s for a couple weeks before returning to the normal 50 and 60 degree rainy days of March and April. It's such a tease. I'm sitting here, basking in the sun, wishing it was 70 degrees and not 59. But it's April, what do I expect? Isn't this why I recycle? So we don't have 80 degree days in early Spring. Whatever. Someone move to San Diego with me.
Those hot days of last week, that now seem so distant, have actually taught me one thing: Chicago is going to be the bees knees in the Summer. I may have mentioned this before but one of the worst things about NYC was that the Summers are so much more unbearable because in the midst of all that sweltering heat and humidity you are taunted by being surrounded by water that you can't swim in. Chicago on the other hand, sits beside my second favorite lake and I couldn't be more excited to walk a few blocks to the beach, jump in the water and live out a beer commercial.
Anyway, I'm rambling with no point. School is sucking every drop of creativity that I have and making me boring. Getting back into a school routine has been easier than I thought. Perhaps I was just never for the work in high school or undergrad, I definitely didn't care, but now my work ethic seems to come effortlessly which is great. Don't get me wrong, film school was a lot of hard work and a ton of hours, but now I have homework and it actually feels like my future is in my hands which could potentially mean I' shit outta luck, but hopefully means my hands are now ready for such a task.
I'll stop mumbling. Go big or go home.
-M, p, z & shredder
I'd like to send a shout out to my new readers including a new friend and possibly a future blog character heretofore known as Schmoops.
Those hot days of last week, that now seem so distant, have actually taught me one thing: Chicago is going to be the bees knees in the Summer. I may have mentioned this before but one of the worst things about NYC was that the Summers are so much more unbearable because in the midst of all that sweltering heat and humidity you are taunted by being surrounded by water that you can't swim in. Chicago on the other hand, sits beside my second favorite lake and I couldn't be more excited to walk a few blocks to the beach, jump in the water and live out a beer commercial.
Anyway, I'm rambling with no point. School is sucking every drop of creativity that I have and making me boring. Getting back into a school routine has been easier than I thought. Perhaps I was just never for the work in high school or undergrad, I definitely didn't care, but now my work ethic seems to come effortlessly which is great. Don't get me wrong, film school was a lot of hard work and a ton of hours, but now I have homework and it actually feels like my future is in my hands which could potentially mean I' shit outta luck, but hopefully means my hands are now ready for such a task.
I'll stop mumbling. Go big or go home.
-M, p, z & shredder
I'd like to send a shout out to my new readers including a new friend and possibly a future blog character heretofore known as Schmoops.
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