The Linear Connect. The Social Network.

"Your subtleties, They strangle me, I can't explain myself at all.' -The All American Rejects

This is...modern, in the real, true, evocative, universal sense.

Very different from the definitive one, perhaps, but a construct that most people born around the same time or after me will recognize and appreciate.

Its..new, and new has its own, expensive charm. All that glitters is gold.

This reminds me of Samara's video, like a leap forward. Like an old film revamped and gone digital.

Keeping up with the times, art is.


"I need to show you, before it fades,
I think I'll be brave,
Starting with you.
I'd rather be wrong,
Than hope that I'm right.'

-Tawgs Salter

And this may sound less than true, but somewhere deep inside of me, there is something inside of me that is inherently averse to a hand-in-hand life.

That said, I try to be brave in my own way. Half the time, I'm trying to fix things in my head before they happen. And so, I don't let them.

Does this seem like an excuse for my reticence?

I don't care.

Because.

"I believe life's too short for compromises and bad fitting jeans."

-Lykke Li

Sometimes, you got to speak in cliches when you're talking to the crowd.




There is a hill top church on an island in Goa called Our Lady Of Compassion.

A small part of my memories are all there, nothing incredible, but they're something I wouldn't give back.

I suppose I can hang a vault of stars over my head any night, and I'll always go back there for a while.

I want you to see how I grew up, why I'm different from you. And sometimes, I need that. The knowing.

I need to know that I can see past the pace, past the chase. That in a good old goan sense, some part of me is still susegad. And naive. And idealistic. And distant.

Its kind of wonderful, having a different sky to go back to. Doesn't matter which place you are.

I've always been in awe of things that endure.
And its reassuring to sometimes be reminded that for some people, I do too.

"And when all of this is gone, who would you rather be, the Beatles or the Rolling Stones?"

-Metric

A day in the life of green hat, Samara, fingernails, geisha and me.

'Sometimes, perfection can be perfect hell.'

- Jack's Mannequin

Green hat lady, you sadden me. I don't know which eye to look at, and they're both just seem to be waiting for you to stumble out of one into another.

But I know that's just me.

I know you don't care, and your mouth twitches like a fish.
Up and down, slide and out.

I guess I'm the cliche you're used to, I guess you're tired and impervious to my stating that I you make me sad cause somewhere in the green fathoms of you I see a little, obscure, dismembered part of me.

And I can't tell which part that might be.

'..this hurts like hell
I had that dream again where
I was lost for good in outer space.'

-Jack's Mannequin

This painting is horrific.

That girl scares me.

And for once, I think I almost know what Picasso's saying.

Its like..he turned her inside out, and put her on display.

It just feels voyeuristic and macabre and disconcerting, like someone catching a glimpse of your mind.

God, I KNOW how ugly I am on the inside, I don't need to be told.

I don't need to be shown.

'With the lightning this close I can see That so much in this world is make believe And this ticking clock isn't for me And still nobody knew I need you..'

-Jack's Mannequin

This is probably the only one that doesn't depress me, and to tell the truth its just this mood I've worked myself into.


It reminds me of,

'I don't recommend it, but it is one way to live.'

-Bright Eyes

So I know, and she knows, and you know that I can get by just sitting there laughing and laughing at you. Till the hell to pay gets bigger and bigger, and I can't see past the vacuum.

'Its like how much more black could it get? The answer is none more black. None more black.'

-This is spinal tap



'Through this hole in my chest I can feel
That so much is this world isn't real
And there's some things that you cannot steal..'

-Jack's Mannequin

I guess you can be her, or you can be me.

You can choose to have pride, 'man up' and be stoic and alone and twisted all your effed up life.

Or you can give up on that like me, and be miserable, and hysterical and grovelling and ecstatic and vulnerable and insane and furious and never all there.

The other options don't even matter.

I guess that means that most of you don't matter.

I suppose I screw up a lot, and I demand a lot out of people.

But I was built like that, and if I'm a little blue, and a little too many things, I'm a little I give a shit about you too.

#failpost

In conversation with..

'I don't paint things. I only paint the difference between things.' -Henri Matisse

I'd hang it in my house, so would you I s'pose.
Its the sort of thing that you can eat dinner with, and not experience that peculiar unease that the realists invariably bring about when in the same room as you.

Marvelous, no doubt. Their ladies sparkle, their gowns are divine.
But I rather prefer food that smiles.

Bubbling wine, blue and pink and fluorescent.
At least,
That's how it tastes in my mouth.

And as I write this inadequate ode to Matisse, I'm sipping an ice tea that makes me think of a coffee swirl. A lemon half. The musty feel of my mother's books. The vintage music covers of the Weepies.

'I have a penchant for scenarios that juggle with the natural order of things. Sometimes one discerns an incongruous situation which is always camouflaged by common sense. If I spot one, my first move is to put it down on paper before it gets forgotten. Assume you're lying on a beach. You're bored and to entertain yourself you play a game of mental sightseeing. You float your nomad eye high above ground, move it around, look down, look behind things, and look back at yourself. The two eyes perceive, the third eye divines, the mind's eye composes, the nomad eye explores. Not many people know they have one.' -Alan Fletcher

I don't like the colors in this painting, its, to put it crudely, loud.
Anything too extreme has a habit of repulsing one when we first encounter it, and this painting makes me feel like I'm being screamed at.

I may not like it, but there's something in this painting that gets to me every time I see it.

Notice the force with which the purple curtains are flying up, almost out of the painting, towards you.
I'm convinced the pot's going to topple over any second.

'Paul Klee always knew when something was finished because instead of him looking at the subject, the subject began looking at him' -Alan Fletcher




I love everything about this painting. I love the fact that there are no people there.

I wouldn't have minded just one person there, then I could have made believe it was me.
People ruin things, and there are some things not worth sharing.

I'd sit in my blue chair, gladioli on my table, have my own conversations, sit poised inside a Matisse on my wall in a infinite reality world. Coffee table world of quiet conversation, and barefoot intrigue.

'In love, the one who runs away is the winner.'

-Henri Matisse

What cynics we are, Matisse.


Beethoven Piano Sonata No.17 in D Minor.

I picked this one simply because I was listening to the above piece when I came across it.
Now, that I'm actually writing about it, Mozart's Requiem Mass in D Minor is playing, and I suddenly realise that I do not like the color of the piano. The brown is such a disappointment, unnecessary. And I know its more Mozart and less Matisse I'm under right now when I think that for some, definite reason the piano couldn't be anything but brown.

I like the painting, I just do. In a forgettable way, in a smile while accidentally meeting someone's eye way. In a sad, why don't we keep in touch way. I can't explain it, and I can't explain the painting.

'I do not literally paint that table, but the emotion it produces upon me.'

-Henri Matisse

Its easy to acquit the people in paintings, they can't wake up and disappoint you again.

I don't know why I wrote this, only that I enjoyed it.

Perhaps, I do.

I think it was because you make me question myself, and I had to acquit myself, so I turned myself into a painting. A Matisse.

But I s'pose you don't like him either.