comfort food

post-its and a rubber stamp. hundreds of post-its. well... maybe tens of post-its...

you have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?

That's fine. You'll know soon enough.

It has occurred to me that the art I prefer to make is very personal. I don't mean like, it's MINE and therefore it's personal. More like flashes of the stuff I wouldn't normally expose.

(mental image of the "expose yourself to art" poster)

Maybe that's why it's hard for me sometimes... to... say what I want to say...

What a ridiculous and completely avoidable predicament. Again... I'm workin' on it.

I went to see Weezer last week. I forgot how much I love Weezer. Jadd commented on how "dialed in" they were and he was right. They sounded awesome and they looked like they were having the greatest time. Even from section 63 we could tell they were having fun.

At one point the stage went dark and someone brought out some kind of box, set it on a small table, opened it to reveal the red lining of a record player (remember those?)

The yummy sound of the needle on the record played and was followed shortly by the sound of a guitar playing a certain combination of notes that grabbed at my heart... ever have that?

It's not unlike hearing that song that you used to listen to over and over during that one pivotal point in your life. Yikes. It gave me a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach... "what *IS* this?" I asked...

Turns out the song is called "Heart Songs" (aah... I get it.) and it's basically about all the songs that Rivers (I assume it's Rivers) has kept close to him... it's been stuck in my head for a week.

Anyway, the only reason I'm even writing about it is because I think it's an honest expression. And it reminds me of this notion I have of what we collect and how it reflects who we are.

We all have them... "heart songs" I mean. Songs that we go to for comfort.

Like french fries for the ears...

Have a grand evening...