Yesterday, I read an article talking about annoying music fans or ones that tend to frighten other people who like the same music. Not too surprisingly followers of Tori Amos were mentioned quite often. Now I freely admit that I like some of her music and have seen her in concert twice, but by no means am I a rabid fan. I have never spoken with her, nor have I had my photo taken with her. I can see why some people would desire either of those things, but that is not something that I seek out when I go to a concert. Oh, I like the concept of a live performance, but I am not sure what else I would have to say to the singer beyond thanking him or her for what they do.
The connection between the artist and someone who appreciates the art that is created is an odd one. Most artists I think want to reach out to people, but at the same time many of these people have problems relating to others and thus choose to express themselves in a means less common and or everyday. Maybe one could call a song a conversation, but I see it as something else. A conversation is less open to interpretation and there is more of a give and take between the participants. A singer and a listener are not having the same kind of bond. Perhaps I am stating the obvious, but I suspect the rabid fans seem to misunderstand this relationship.
...
Almost
seven hours of solid sleep does wonders for my overall mood. That is not to say that I did not feel like
myself before I went to sleep, but I wish that that would happen more often
than it does.
...
My goals for the month are to keep my exercise regimen steady and to increase my reading. When I look at all of the books that I read two years ago, I wonder when I had the time and or where did it go now. I also want to do more photography and start sketching again.
After work this morning, I was able to walk outside without wearing a coat or jacket. This is something that I have not been able to do in weeks if not months. The sun was shining bright and no clouds could be seen in the sky. All but a few traces of snow surviving in the shade had disappeared leaving any and all debris on the ground visible. It was an odd contrast. The ground looked ugly and dead, but the air and the sky were perfect. It was nice. Maybe winter has finally exited the stage.
I can not remember when I first became aware of the man Jack Kirby and his impact on the comic book industry, but I do know that his style is unmistakable. Bold, block like faces and arms that punch out through the panels filled with abstract shapes are what come to my mind. His legacy at Marvel came to my attention first and over time I have come to know most of his DC creations. Personal favorites of mine include Scott Free and Barda. Visually the two of them are classic in my mind and I also appreciate their tragic and triumphant relationship. However, not every character in the Kirby stable has been seen firsthand by me, so I was happy to have a chance to read the Kamandi Countdown Special that DC recently put together.
Now having read the first issue of Kamandi, I can say that it is very Kirby. A world where civilization has fallen into ruins and animals have learned to talk is something very much in his style and speaks to his strengths as an artist. I can not say that I was instantly hooked by what I read, but I can appreciate his effort to create something outside the normal super hero genre. Plus at the time, I am certain that it was very eccentric if not ground breaking.
Yesterday I finally finished preparing my taxes and I am relieved to have that chore behind me. I have never been fond of paperwork and paperwork that has to do with money is even worse. On a more positive note, I filed my taxes one week earlier this year than I did last year.
Immortality. More often than not that concept seems to be more of a curse than a blessing in Western culture. One may not die, but he or she sees everyone important to him or her die. Loneliness becomes all consuming. This theme has been explored in films such as Highlander and books such as the comic book series The Sandman. Be it Connor MacLeod or Hob Gabling, I love these kinds of stories. So when I found out that a new television series called New Amsterdam centered around a man who has lived for four hundred years I was intrigued. Now having seen all but two of the episodes that have aired so far, I have to say that I am not disappointed. I like both the central character and his supporting cast. My only concern is whether or not the series will be back in the fall.
Would I refuse the gift of immortality? I don't know. Some days the answer would be no and other days the answer would be yes.
