3. Being abroad.
2. Getting mail. 
A package from Jer, including
these portraits of Bob Dylan, and of me in Yamagata.1. Having brilliant and talented friends.
Jerylyn Brie.You can read Jer's blog, Road to Nowhere, and see her photos on Flickr. Her letter was full of art and casual poetry and left me full of FUCK YEAH I'M DOIN IT!
I miss my creative friends. In Portland, Jer was my best companion in art+angst. Her boyfriend Johnny Le is another hip kid and talented photographer and filmmaker.
Johnny Le.My friends Mike and Frankie are film students with an amazing sense of cinematography. They're those people who pick up your camera at a party and flippantly snap some photos and then when you wake up and look through the shots you find all this beautiful light and color and shadow and shape that weren't even there until they were all like WHAT'S UP with their magical camera fingers.
Mike Gardner.
Frankie Flatch.
My best friend Sarah has done tons of amazing art and film projects that I don't even know enough about to discuss because we've been painfully separated since the age of 18 when she moved to San Francisco to get fucking real and I went to do whatever the fuck I've been doing.
Sarah and I met freshman year of high school and, true story, really did turn our redneck town upside-down in a hurricane of pissed-off idealism. In spite of death threats, glass projectiles, and constant disappointment, we kept papering every bare surface with hundreds and hundreds of hand-made posters, sticking our chins up at administrators in the principal's office, and invading the cafeteria with guerrilla "music extravaganzas," just to keep our spirits sharp and maybe sneak a little enlightenment in wherever we could, to the greatest extent we were able. We made it out alive and to this day, when combined, are the fiercest shit in this fucking generation.
Aya Nakashima.
My once and future roommate, Aya, went from Japan to Alabama to Portland, where she fell the heck in love. Over two years, she threw herself into the soul of Portland like no ho-hum hipster would believe: working in a local art gallery, meeting artists and designers from around the world, going to every indie show she could, always finding her way to the best acts, the best events, the best spots and the best parties. Her style, her taste and her brain are top of the line. Though it broke her heart, she dragged herself back to Japan this month and will start work in Tokyo in March. This month she's hunting for a 2 bedroom apartment where we can be reunited as ultimate roommates of the world. Aya's blog, Ayabean is Portlander, is so clever and entertaining.
I could go on, I'm leaving out other people I'm lucky to know who are brilliant artists, musicians, scholars, authors, philosophers, or best of all, just great fucking inspiring mad spirits. All I really want this year in Japan is to find a few more people I admire this much.
I'm not saying my life is a salon of wild intellectual and artistic activity -- it's not, and I'm always wishing it were. My oldest and most irritating habit is constantly whining that I don't know enough inspiring people. But I know a few. And if you put it into perspective for a minute, whenever you can, a few is enough to make you pretty fucking lucky.
Sarah Millett.
Sarah and I met freshman year of high school and, true story, really did turn our redneck town upside-down in a hurricane of pissed-off idealism. In spite of death threats, glass projectiles, and constant disappointment, we kept papering every bare surface with hundreds and hundreds of hand-made posters, sticking our chins up at administrators in the principal's office, and invading the cafeteria with guerrilla "music extravaganzas," just to keep our spirits sharp and maybe sneak a little enlightenment in wherever we could, to the greatest extent we were able. We made it out alive and to this day, when combined, are the fiercest shit in this fucking generation.
Aya Nakashima.My once and future roommate, Aya, went from Japan to Alabama to Portland, where she fell the heck in love. Over two years, she threw herself into the soul of Portland like no ho-hum hipster would believe: working in a local art gallery, meeting artists and designers from around the world, going to every indie show she could, always finding her way to the best acts, the best events, the best spots and the best parties. Her style, her taste and her brain are top of the line. Though it broke her heart, she dragged herself back to Japan this month and will start work in Tokyo in March. This month she's hunting for a 2 bedroom apartment where we can be reunited as ultimate roommates of the world. Aya's blog, Ayabean is Portlander, is so clever and entertaining.
I could go on, I'm leaving out other people I'm lucky to know who are brilliant artists, musicians, scholars, authors, philosophers, or best of all, just great fucking inspiring mad spirits. All I really want this year in Japan is to find a few more people I admire this much.
I'm not saying my life is a salon of wild intellectual and artistic activity -- it's not, and I'm always wishing it were. My oldest and most irritating habit is constantly whining that I don't know enough inspiring people. But I know a few. And if you put it into perspective for a minute, whenever you can, a few is enough to make you pretty fucking lucky.
6 comments:
I love this post sooooo much. I especially loved the part where you talked about Sara because I can verify that intense shit, man! You two... I swear THS died a little when you graduated. Ohhhh, the mems.
I'm glad you enjoyed the package! I need to start working on your next 3 month parcel extravaganza.
IMUUUUU
Ohhhhhhhhhh also, that first photo is beautiful. Looks like you're getting a case of magic camera fingers there yerself. ;]]]]
It's not true if I say moonlight won't die with its red face when you're not here. But believe it when you're here, the little tiny hole of hope to horizon won't catch the dark disappointment of night.
Ahahaha. I'll never forget the look on your face when they announced our SSU JAM OF TERROR as a "music extravaganza" over the intercom! LOL. That's what you get when you send me to do a job...
Yeah and Jerylyn's big yellow package looks pretty tight. My next letter will be a bit more amazing.
Beth Roeser.
Fucking rad.
I love this post, too!!!
I could say the same thing for you!
well i think you're all fucking rad and this made me miss living in portland :(
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