A year now and counting…patience never being my strong suit, what little patience I do have is just ’bout running out.
I’ve been spending a lot of time with Social Media over this past year. Need I remind the world, once again, via Social Networking, that my record is coming out, some day…maybe even soon? I was so happy to read recently that David Bowie was able to keep his new recording project a secret for the last two years. Two years! Can you imagine? Secrecy coming in second only to patience when considering the social skill sets I have yet to master. In the past year and a half of my, musical comeback, I’ve had no choice but to count on the secrecy of Twitter, Face Book, Instagram, to generate the buzz. Unlike Mr Stardust, my one and only record, a 45 single, released in 1983 only sold 2oo or so copies. And I think 90% of those records sold were warped. Pressing outsourced to the Mojave Desert I suspect. DIY – yeah, I was punk alright.
The problem with using Social Networks for me is I cannot keep my digital mouth shut. I post the most inappropriate things, respond to the posts’ of strangers as if we were best friends…I’m living in a perpetual, “oops I did it again” twilight zone. And do it again I did, just an hour ago. Oops.
A FB friend, Mr S. F., is one of the few people whose posts are always interesting. Chock full of really cool and important science facts, incredibly obscure historical items, origins of language and everyday words we use, artwork and artists most of us might not have ever seen, or heard about, architecture…it is such a great example of how Social Media can enlighten, bring knowledge to a public starved for information instead of just infotainment…
Which brings me back to the record. Surprised? The one that all my dear, and close FB friends have heard about, endlessly, I might say relentlessly…the record that still, isn’t. Is the product the important thing, or is it the process. If it’s the process, does anyone really need to hear about it? I mean, is there a societal need to know? If it’s a product, ditto.
Art for Art’s sake, discuss.
Sunday does this to me. I don’t know why. Is Sunday the beginning of the week or the end of the week? How many years of Sundays does it take to complete a project? A record, a painting, a song, a garden…a first date, the last date, a great novel, a good day’s work…a good night’s sleep…sometimes we get so busy looking at the word count tally at the bottom of the page we can forget why we even started the story…
It’s just my personal mess…Happy 95th Pops…and where ever you are, I hope it’s Sunday.