Birthday wishes…

Okay…so today is Amanda Palmer’s birthday – she’s offline today to enjoy a day with her family and be unplugged for a much needed day of peace and quiet – I have to admire her for her creative energy, quite the dynamo. I totally get her.

I couldn’t do it. Seriously. I am such a home-body there is no fucking way I’d do nearly half the shit this woman does, you dig? She’s like this person I wanted to be when I was in college between the ages of 18-21 and thought I could’ve done something like be this amazing artist, but didn’t quite know what I was doing, and I desperately needed guidance, but really wasn’t finding what I needed from anybody. I was too busy emotionally flailing around, freaking out, thriving on cigarettes and coffee, making some seriously shitty paintings on purpose because some dickhead thought my other paintings that I made were crap not worth talking about, he pretty much said one day that “Painting is dead.” (So like, I’m paying all this fucking money to learn painting and you’re telling me this shit?) After that, I wore sunglasses inside, dark clothes and clunky boots, a scarf and a hat, and said shit like “I painted this, and like, I can’t talk about it cuz it’s too personal” I was totally making fun of this guy (not very mature, but who is at that age?) I knew how to be irritating.

Then one night when some drunken asshole stalked me on my way back to my dorm, talking dirty. I turned around and screamed at him to leave me the fuck alone or I’d have to hurt him so bad he’d never know what him him. (Funny thing, I was  around 95 lbs, but I was a scared 95 lb chick, buzzing on too much nicotine, and wasn’t going to take shit from anyone that night. It was too close on the heels of what happened to Alice Sebold so I was on extra high octane freak out mode, walking home alone late at night, keys in hand, and already pissed off that my friends didn’t show up like they said they would to walk me home.) So yeah, he high-tailed it…fuck. I didn’t die. I graduated with my degree in painting, no marketable skills, no job prospects. But I turned out all right. If anything, I’m resourceful, and I didn’t want to move back home with my parents…oh the formative years!

I still make art. I write books. I stick my neck out quietly in my own way. And I’m a proud patron of Amanda Palmer, because she’s doing the shit I never did. So to honor her on this day of her 41st birthday, I curated a sampling of videos and music on my Tumblr From my acre of the world…. (which is my daily journal where I post mostly photographs of things that are from my acre of the world in theory, tho’ occasionally I go crazy and stray off the acre and post other things there as well.) Anyway, should you want to wander over there to watch and listen please indulge…I’m not normally the gushy fan-girl, that was fine when I was 12 and making myself giddy about the pop stars featured in Tiger Beat magazine c. 1975 because that’s what the other girls did, and I wanted to fit in, but I still didn’t quite fit in, and whatever music I heard on the local AM stations. (UGH!) Then I finally discovered FM stations, and got my music shit together for a bit, and then thankfully, the Internet opened it up for everybody to discover new music on their own…and so that’s how it goes today, April 30th 2017.

This is a totally unedited, stream of consciousness blog post…

Happy Birthday, Amanda.


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