"It could be that our faithlessness is a cowering cowardice born of our very smallness, a massive failure of imagination... If we were to judge nature by common sense or likelihood, we wouldn't believe the world existed."
• from the wikipedia article about a Yale (?) professor: I can't figure if there's truth in this. I was not "disappointed" when I read Song of Myself. i was involved on the level of the words, floating up through their meaning-- I spend my time looking for those who have said things better, to learn how i can word the jumbled thoughts in my head.
"Poetic influence, as I conceive it, is a variety of melancholy or the [Freudian] anxiety-principle." A new poet becomes inspired to write because he has read and admired the poetry of previous poets; but this admiration turns into resentment when the new poet discovers that these poets whom he idolized have already said everything he wishes to say. The poet becomes disappointed because he "cannot be Adam early in the morning. There have been too many Adams, and they have named everything."
In order to evade this psychological obstacle, the new poet must convince himself that previous poets have gone wrong somewhere and failed in their vision, thus leaving open the possibility that he may have something to add to the tradition after all. The new poet's love for his heroes turns into antagonism towards them: "Initial love for the precursor's poetry is transformed rapidly enough into revisionary strife, without which individuation is not possible."
•my favorite things about the amazingness that was the swell season concert, written when i got back at midnight:
Ahahahah amazingness!!!!
OKAY, so, allie and her friend donna picked up me and chelsea from the grove, we go to the wiltern which is SUPER ORNATE and exciting and love bundles and I bought a probably non-legit tshirt in the parking lot
They opened with Fallen From The Sky-- so cute and heartfelt, like all of their music
Lies-- BELTED. loved it.
glen: "this song is not for you" ( he then played "leave")
"this one is for those of you who the full moon pulls to play" ("Feeling the Pull" is so full of yearning and energy and restless joy)
glen: "fuckin, i'm irish, we know about bottling it up" (before they played say it to me now)
marketa irglova's voice = lilting echo and twining high into melody and harmony
jason segel suprise appearance!
so marketa irglova gave apparently gave him advice about writing a song: "include personal information"
Mixed up bits of the lyrics i remember:
would it be okay, if i use my celebrity status to sleep with a swell season fan
*sings his number* *marketa walks around stage with a poster with his number largely printed*
remember me in freaks and geeks, in forgetting sarah marshall where i showed my penis
there were no special effects, no special effects
the woman in front of allie turning around four times to tell her what an awesome singer she is (it was pretty damn awesome)
on the sing-alongs, glen was like "yeah i know you're all fucken cool but sing"
:D :D :D
singing regina spektor on the ride back with chelsea and allie
• "magic casements, opening on the foam/Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.''
•from an interview with Glen Hansard: (i know, i'm only mildly obsessed)
" Because sometimes I struggle with this idea of “Why am I writing miserable songs?”
Sadness is a very interesting idea, this idea of sadness being some kind of default setting that artists will go into. And then I started thinking about this idea of sadness and happiness, and the idea that sadness is very loud, and happiness is quiet. To use the pages of a diary, for example: The happy days are blank pages. So it’s an interesting idea that on the sad days, of course you take out your pen, and you try to figure yourself out, through art, whether it’s writing or singing a song. I only ever really take out my guitar when I’m miserable, which isn’t necessarily a very good time to do it. And so his poem really struck me. The idea that “I feel as poor O’Brien did, when turning from all else that was not his, he turned to that which was his own. He turned to his pen. And when his woes had been pawned and coined and all let in that should not be left out…” He went and he wrote about this sorrow, this feeling of not belonging. Essentially he found that grief wasn’t translated, but actually joy.
And it’s an interesting idea, when you think of the guy with the blues guitar in the bar, who’s singing “I’ve got no girl, I don’t know where I’m going to sleep tonight, I’ve lost my job.” And we’re all sitting there drinking beers and cheering him on. There’s something alchemic, if that’s the right word. There’s something transforming in the idea that you sing about your sadness, and yet there’s actually some joy that comes out of that, you know?"
Aaaah I have so much to do, stop being a lazypants is number one on the list
