Hung out with good old Joe Felice and his traveling companion Jenny the other night here. They were passing through on down from camping up in Shasta. We talk a bit about where our lives are going, Joe pointed back at NYC and being an artist again, and good for him. He's a witty mofo, will do real well for himself if he keeps at it I think.
It's interesting, my relationship to the creative process and how it's evolved. I haven't really tried to make anything in a long time, and I'm finding myself rusty, heasitant and nervous. Some people like to blow smoke at me for my blogging, but I hardly think these chicken-scratching amount to much from an artistic standpoint.
Sure, I turn the odd phrase that's maybe worth keeping, and I find the medium to be a great avenue for self-expression, but I've always been one to observe a wide and gaping chasm between self-expression and something worth paying attention to. This puts a bit of distance twixt me and a lot of other artists in that I think of the audience as final arbiter of worth (if no one "gets" what you're doing, you're not doing very good).
Point is, I try to have high and rarified standards for this here Bachelor of the Fine Arts. I'm playing with my little video camera and suddenly feeling the urge to rehearse. I think this is good, something I should do. Rehearsal is a positive thing, a sound practice and essential part of any quality craft.
Rehearsal starts with some writing off in a room. It needs time and privacy. I should probably get started then, eh?
