Friday, July 01, 2011

I'm so Rock and Roll

...And then maybe not so much.
Of course, I was sure in the sense that Rock and Roll (I appreciated the ancient turn of phrase, as opposed to just Rock) were indeed the two major constituents of my very being when, just over a week ago the promise of temporary bachelorhood and a vacancy of work which would afford some old timey studio indulgence (provided the anxiety could be held in check).

This image of a note left for me by Angelika could have been enough to indicate that rockin' and rollin' had left the building.  Needing a note....and yes, I need such a indicate what I should eat, when to prevent total food loss due to negligence and rot.  Even the note has not proven full proof.  The cantaloupe, pineapple AND tomato AND lettuce all succumbed to the white death of mold cultures.  There's still hope for the smidge of yogurt left...(and I tried microwaving those hamburger buns...I ate them, but they did not soften up...Also the house seems devoid of mouse activity.  Perhaps it's right to think of the necessity of such a note, reminding me of the basics human existence is so NOT Rock and Roll.  Some might even find it remedial - particularly for a dude that's recently stepped into the on deck circle for entering his 5th decade.  Of course, I read it as, "yeah, I'm rock and roll....destined to live with abandon for the next 3-4 weeks fruit and veggies be damned."  What is Rock and Roll if not a life laced with remedial, adolescent tendencies?  Who has time to check on the perishables when there's art to be made - madly.  Hell, this alone was a ticket that validated my insouciance and harkened back to a time when the only veggies I stocked in the kitchen were the canned variety - No brainer food.
Of course, I'm not immune to the realization that I am so far from Rock and Roll. Living the single life is hard, having no one around to signal when a reasonable (and appropriate) hour to go to bed has arrived.

When alone,  I'll sit and zone - before the tv or not until some unkind, numb-making  hour of the night, which initiates an uncontrollable slide. .

Maybe I am still Rock and Roll, if Rock and Roll is defined as being irresponsible, unproductive, lazy in terms of doing laundry and the dishes.  Although, as a sort of middle aged guy, this roll lacks some of the gusto it might otherwise have for a twenty year old...I know I'm not alone in embodying the trending topic of the flacidification of one's juju.   I've seen documented reports of some sad sots who strike out in the initial moments of a revisited bachelorhood (temporary as it is) by buying dish towels.  So this is what becomes of the world?

I guess I was wrongly trying to redefine Rock and Roll as being on task, focused, productive and sharply creative...Maybe that's something else.  Maybe whatever that is, I'll be it next week, after I've acclimated more to my condition...And I'll be listening to more Rock and Roll....and audiobooks on the Spartans! .

I'm not talking about stepping out and carousing.  I'm just talking about stepping out of the comfortable couch-based routine that my life has joined my life at the hip in recent years.

Yes, I choose to consider having someone suggest what I should eat, and do in her absence via illustrated list as a license to free my mind of such things for to more directly make mayhem in the studio - that is pretty rock and roll...I just have to play the part.

I've faced the promise of rock and roll tonight.  Staring down a large painting, judging myself by my actions and reactions to the various state changes I take it through;  pushing through the moments of resistance.  It's different than my modus operandi of the recent past; coming up to a point of resistance and side step it by stepping away for another time, another moment of convenience.  Will this garner a positive result?  I'm not sure, we'll see.  Over the last few years I've developed a laid back mode of working in the studio; one of convenience.  But also one that is unfussed, unthinking, automatic and I appreciate the places it's taken me, dipping in when it is convenient, dipping back out when the discomfort of progress threatens to become inconvenient.
Of course, I'll give a progress report on this process.

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