Socrates/mediocrities

I'm tired of being all right at a lot of things. I'm tired of making art that is at best "above average," whatever that means. I think the reason I drive myself insane being in so many ensembles is because I really don't care how I make art, I just want to be an artist. I don't see myself excelling in any one thing, so I try to chase after them all, which just complicates things more than they were already complicated to begin with.

I want to make something that accomplishes what music is supposed to accomplish. I don't want it to have anything to do with stupid petty competition. I don't want people to listen to me perform and think dang, that was good or ooo...wrong note or that I'm better or worse than the next guy. I want people to think about the music itself, the language it speaks. It sounds cheesy and lame, but I'm feeling pretty lame at the moment.


AKA...I need to take the step and PICK something to do with my life, lest I be stuck in a cycle of mediocrity for all time. But I don't wanna grow up.


...and I'm tired of people telling me what music is or isn't, what it should or shouldn't be, what makes it artisic or inartistic, why it's important, why it's not, etc. etc. etc. etc. to the ends of the earth.

Putting so much talk into music cheapens it, I think. Especially when you start off a class by saying that music speaks a completely different language...we can't put it into words, that's why it's so awesome. And then we spend the rest of the semester talking about music's rights and wrongs. You know, your opinion is valuable, but will not hesitate to be corrected if it doesn't match the syllabus...

Sigh.

Just thought I should update since I haven't in awhile, and since I'm supposed to be writing an essay about Socrates, now seemed like an ample opportunity.

I like my friends.

Socrates was a jerk. A lame one. Lame lame lame. I would have hated him. Kicked him right in the shin.

I like coffee as well. And the fact that my computer is in working order.

I took a nap yesterday. PLEASANT. And Ruthie sent me my own personalized update. She likes me, yes? DO YOU LIKE ME, RUTHIE?????????? I like her, and I think about her every time I gaze lovingly at the sticky crap still left on the ceiling from last year.

Okay, Socrates, you're going down.