Subjectivity of Emotions On Writing and Creating
Everything is profound when you’re laying in bed at night. Every thought feels brilliant and innovative. Last night I was getting carried away by these brilliant thoughts, and they were all about a Tame Impala song. I figured then, laying there and thinking my genius thoughts, that I absolutely must write about this the next morning (which is now), and that I would call the post “Musical Analysis of a Tame Impala Song”, and it would be, as my thoughts were, brilliant and innovative.
And now it’s the morning, and the idea doesn’t seem nearly as profound. 😂
It’s funny how that goes. When writing my most recent story that I’m currently kind of editing and typing up, I thought at some parts, “This is the most brilliant thing that’s ever been written!” “This is pure genius, innovative and original!” And then I’m rereading it, typing it up, and I think—Wow, this sucks. This is just a blatant Alice In Wonderland ripoff and not nearly as good. (And looking at it with clear eyes, it’s not a ripoff by any means—but there is undeniable direct influence.) Too many characters in too short of a period of time. Description is mediocre, average. The whimsy is not nearly as whimsical and imaginative as I originally thought. And I was an idiot for thinking this was really anything special.
Well, that’s how it goes. We feel brilliant, then are immediately humbled. Emotions are fleeting and ephemeral. We are intoxicated with the feeling of creation, of falling in love, and then we look again and find that we are disgusted, we are bored with the very thing that we once loved so much. And then, you look at it the next day, and then you may think, with neither elation nor disgust, “Well, this isn’t so bad after all.”
I suddenly went from having nothing to write about (but truly, I only had no desire to write, being tired), to having an incredible overflow, because now I just feel like writing, and it’s been a few days.
One thing I’ve been thinking about a lot in recent days is again choosing a topic to write about. I think, if I could only write one more thing, shouldn’t it be the best thing I could possibly write? Shouldn’t I pick the juiciest topic I can think of? Shouldn’t I go for the best, every time? The meatiest thing, the boldest topic, the bravest? Instead of just writing about whatever I feel like I want to write about? Shouldn’t I try and write something that is the most useful to people, the most groundbreaking or highest reward potential, instead of low-hanging fruit, which is often just whatever is happening in my garden or in the cafe?
But what is it? What is the best thing you can write about?
There is no best thing to write about, not objectively. There is only what you feel compelled to write, or what you must write, in the moment. And that is subjective.
I read Dracula and I thought it was brilliant and one of my favorite books ever. I still think that. But the other night, I picked it up, thinking I might want to reread it, and I got half a page in before thinking, “There’s no way I can read this right now.” and I put it down.
It wasn’t because Dracula was unworthy. It’s just not what I wanted to read at the time.
I pick up my Japanese novel, about three 6th graders who go fishing and decide to start a little fishing company, and find that I am engaged. I want to know about this harbor where they import foreign lumber. I want to know what it’s like to be 11 and go fishing for iwashi with your friends on the concrete wave-breakers. I want to read their story. And that seems to be much more fitting for me and where I’m at, right now.
It’s not because Uwasa no Zukkoke Kabushiki Kaisha (うわさのズッコケ株式会社) is better than Dracula. It’s just because that’s what’s calling to me, right now.
The Dream
Well, anyways (not going for bold or brave today) here are the things I wanted to write about today: the Tame Impala song (New Person, Same Old Mistakes), autumn euphoria, my wardrobe minimalism experiment, and lifestyle changes that I’ve adopted since leaving my last job and having this period of freedom… was there anything else? That might have— OH, and my dream last night.
This is something of an exhaustive list. Where do we start?
The dream is simple enough and might be the most interesting part of the post. I’ve been having dreams again, or rather I’ve been remembering dreams again—and last night, I had a very vivid one. Not long, but vivid.
The dream: I was with some people, and they took me to a kind of underground illegal club/marketplace. I didn’t know the people but they were my friends, somehow.
Immediately when we entered, there were stockpiles of guns everywhere, enormous guns, including cannons. There were rifles, bombs, and giant cannons lining the walls. It was dim, and there were people everywhere. I was nervous, I remember that. We walked through a hall with the guns and into the central marketplace area, where a bit of sun filtered in through an opening in the roof, and there were people all around—dancing, trading, buying things. There was a long bar, and across from that there were a bunch of booths and seats. It was kind of like that scene in Star Wars, where they’re at the bar with the aliens on Tatooine. We were walking over through this hubbub, and then I saw approaching us, a couple that had several large, predatory cats on leashes—they looked like strange hybrids of tigers and leopards. These cats immediately pounced on me, and knocked me into one of the booths. I remember that one had a disproportionately tiny head for the body, and the other was just a St. Bernard-sized tiger. They were sitting on top of me, gnawing on me and playing like dogs do, except they weren’t dogs, and I said, “Are these cats going to kill me?” to the owners, who were laughing, and the guy said, “They’ll wait for you to let your guard down,” which was terrifying for me to hear. I was smothered under these large cats, trying to hold them at bay somewhat with my arms, wondering what was going to happen, and feeling that they could legitimately kill me at any moment. Those two cats didn’t seem to want to hurt me, but suddenly another smaller cat, like a lab-sized white tiger came running over, leapt up onto my back and fiercely clamped its jaws on my neck. And then I thought, well, I’m dead now.
I think that the dream ended then, and then I probably died. Or at least I felt like I was going to die, so I had to end the dream.
End of dream. Now, what do you think about that? What is the influence? Why do I dream such a dream? I have no answers, except that several of my characters in the story are cats (tiger, leopard, and lion). But why should I otherwise have such a dream as this? That is the mystery of dreams.
I’m sure it is ripe for interpretation by any practicing dream interpreter.
Layman’s Analysis of a Tame Impala Song
Now I’ll tell you about my analysis of the Tame Impala song, New Person, Same Old Mistakes, and we can see if it really is all that brilliant or interesting after all.
Last night, I had nothing good to do. I didn’t feel like reading, and I ended up putting on the Tame Impala record Currents, and playing along with the songs. Just the D side (the album has two records), which is Reality In Motion, Love/Paranoia, and New Person…
I started noodling on New Person, Same Old Mistakes. After dialing in the incredible bass riff, I was then trying to find the key. And I thought it originally started on G, and that’s how I was playing it, which worked—but that was the 5th. The riff actually starts on C. And after continuing to try and riff along with the song, I just kept feeling that this was such a weird song.
Some songs in my wheelhouse (rock), I can hack them immediately. But I was struggling to get a handle on this Tame Impala. I had to look up a tab—Ultimate Guitar said the key was F minor (which I think was just wrong.) However, the intro bass riff is C, C#, A# and G#. So, is the key C? But it has a flattened 2nd, so it would have to be a Phrygian scale? Did he write this in C Phrygian?
Eventually I dialed it in, and realized that the song uses all of the notes of G# major. My question then was: If the root note of the song is C, is the key of the song C Phrygian, or G# major?
Basically, my brilliant epiphany about this song is that it seems to be a harmonic, tonal hybrid, not really existing firmly in either C Phrygian or G# major. Because, what determines the key is not always the first note, but the tonal center. I thought about what the tonal center of the song is, and I couldn’t say. It could be C, but it could just as easily be that G# too. And why that matters for the song, is that the resolution of the progression is generally the note that the key will be in—but New Person, Same Old Mistakes never really resolves. The song continues to loop back around to that C, always, eternally, without ever really feeling settled. And the song feels like it could just as easily revolve around G#, but yet it doesn’t quite resolve there either.
It feels like New Person, Same Old Mistakes exists in a kind of tonal duality, and that might just be what makes it so mesmerizing. Your brain is trying to figure out where the music will go, hunting for that resolution, but you never really get it. It’s endless and looping, but not meaninglessly. It’s satisfying enough because it does have tonal centers, it does resolve—it’s just weird. And Tame Impala (Kevin Parker), probably felt that, because the song doesn’t end on any particular note at all. Fitting to the endless, looping nature of the song, the music just fades out. It never really ends, it never really resolves.
New Person, Same Old Mistakes is also the last song on the album.
There’s a switchup in the end, after the bridge, where the bass ascends in a crazy, unexpected way. I think that also adds a strong dimension to the song being unusually hypnotic and strange. It’s like, here we have these notes, here we have these resolutions, kind of, and now we’re just playing them, in a pleasing and exotic way, vibing out in this satisfying musical limbo for 6 minutes, that might as well be eternity. It’s a musical space that you can always simply return to, going on forever and endlessly.
I think the above could explain why this song is so captivating for me. Whenever this song comes on, I am immediately pulled into a kind of trance. Still, after having heard it a thousand times. I’m sure that it will never be boring for me. Last night, I must have listened to it 20, 30 times in a row, playing along with it, dissecting it, and yet I could still put it on right now and listen to it all over again.
What an incredible song, that is. And music, so fascinating. All of the little things that make a song a song.
Lifestyle Changes/Experiments
I did want to write about some of the ways that my life has evolved in the last two months, where I have had once again complete freedom in my life. This is mainly to track and keep a record, because I think it’s interesting to see what we get up to when we are liberated from having to work, and it’s good to see what kind of life you live when you are freed from the burden/obligation of making the money.
When I reflect on my recent brief but eventful period of personal freedom, I see that a lot has actually happened.
- Conscious reduced consumption of plastic and production of waste
- Cut out artificial light at night, darkness period, using candles
- Minimalist (sparse) wardrobe, pairing down of wardrobe
- “Prolific” writing (for me)
- Good physical fitness (exercise almost every day: running, averaging 4-5 miles, climbing and weight-lifting)
- Discovery of new hobby/interest (gardening)
- No vice (binging, dissociating, frivolous spending, etc.)
- Low alcohol use (only 4, 5 times in two months)
I think that when we are left to our own devices, we start to check in with ourselves, and live to our natural rhythms. I have not had to force myself to do any exercising at all—I crave it. I leaned away from alcohol just because I feel it generally does not serve me, unless I am really intentional with it. I’ve had time and energy to spare, which led to me discovering gardening, which has become a rewarding new interest and hobby for me. And “no vice” refers to the fact that in this period, I haven’t really done anything that could be considered bad, at all. I haven’t binged on any game (maybe I played Pokemon for a few more hours than I should have, twice). I haven’t had any mindless YouTube consumption. No wasted money, and no overindulgence.
I wrote earlier a piece from this period about having no thrill, that I was feeling a little bored with things, but I’ve worked through that. I took a day off of striving and achieving and expecting, and just went crazy on Pokemon. Then, the day after this Pokemon vacation, I attended the service at a local church (the only service I’ve been to in who knows how long), and somehow this combination seemed to just cure all of my ennui. And now reflecting on things, on the whole, these past two months have truly been a fruitful and healthy period for me.
The wardrobe experiment has been interesting because it had been lurking around in my mind for a while, and I finally tried it as I wanted to, again having spare time and energy. I find that I’m sticking to it easily and will keep going on in this way. And it came from, really, that I have all these clothes, as we all do, and I was constantly thinking about how when I was in Thailand, I lived easily for two months on only two pairs of shoes (and I ended up giving Ethan Beller one of the pairs, and had only my Vans in the end, which could do everything I asked of them), two or three pairs of pants, and four or five shirts, possibly not even that many. Basically, I didn’t have much, and yet it was never a problem. It worked just fine for my purposes, and I liked that. It made things easy. I had what I had, and it did the job.
I often think about that period, and about how little I really needed, and I see all of the clothes that I’ve since acquired, and I’ve thought, I know I don’t need these. I know I’ve done it before. I’ve made it work with 5% as much as I’ve got right now, and not only did I make it work—I liked it. So what I decided to do in the end, was assemble some core outfits, each serving a different essential role, and then everything else went in bags and suitcases. I didn’t get rid of it, because I didn’t know how things would go, and that seemed too much.
I ended up going with three pairs of dark jeans, two t-shirts, a set of workout clothes (two shorts, pants, and two shirts), a hoodie, a pair of pajama pants, and a pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeve for work in the yard. And one hat. I thought that I wouldn’t want to wear black every day, that that would somehow be too dark, or austere, or whatever, so I gave myself one other daily life outfit that wasn’t black. But surprisingly, I found that I like wearing black every day. It actually suits me. I left myself with a pair of dark jeans (but not black) and a grey shirt with colorful bikes on it, that had a little pop, and I wear that when I want to wear not black.
This wardrobe has worked without a hitch (and now that it’s winter, I’ve just added in a flannel or two into the rotation). Over time I’ve noticed that I subconsciously chose at the outset the clothes that actually fit me the best. Everything I chose for my core wardrobe fits perfectly, and some of the other clothes that I liked didn’t get chosen I think because the fit wasn’t as good. In this way, you could say that I may have improved my outfits generally, although I don’t know how much it really matters in the end.
By taking this time to intentionally choose my favorite and core outfits, commiting to them, I have possibly chosen the most authentic clothes to represent me, and I have also chosen what makes me the most comfortable, at the same time.
Now, I don’t have anything hanging up on hangers, at all. All 100 of my (plastic, *shudder*) hangers are currently tucked under my sofa. They have no use. I lay my clothes out on the rack in the closet, and the rest are on top of my dresser, or in the dresser, which I have also moved to the inside of the closet, to free up space in my room.
I should say I also have the suit, of course. The Japanese suit, rolled up in the dresser.
Since pairing down my wardrobe, I feel better about my clothing situation. It’s a subtle thing, but opening up that closet door and not seeing those 40 shirts stuffed in there, not having to hang pants up on hangers, and not having to hunt through my dresser for the exact pair of pants I want, or hunt through the hangers for a shirt—it’s a nice. It’s much simpler this way.
I thought I might get bored with what I had chosen for my outfits, and I would miss some of my more “fun” clothes, but it turns out that I just don’t care much about personal expression through clothing. Looking decent and having clothes that fit well and are comfortable is the most important thing to me. I thought I might end up thinking that I didn’t choose right, either, when picking those first core outfits, and that I wanted to use other clothes instead—but apparently my intuition was good. I’ve kept the same outfits this entire time (probably 1.5-2 months, now)(and now from my posting this, it’s been 5 months, and I have stuck to the same outfits still).
Autumn Euphoria
I’ve got one more thing to write for you here.
I really noticed it for the first time last year. I remember, for a week or two, straight, where we had the changing colors of the leaves, cooler weather, and blue skies, every single day, I felt giddy, even euphoric. And I thought, What’s happening to me? Is this just because of the weather? I couldn’t pin it down to anything else, and I thought that it must have all been because of the changing seasons.
Well, it’s happening again. I’m more conscious of these feelings this time around, and now it’s that same time of year, with the same conditions. The cooler weather, a break from the intense summer heat, the clear, sharp blue skies, and the changing leaves. And somehow, this combination is inducing a euphoria in me.
Do you guys experience this? Anybody else?
It’s weird. I’m not usually elated or euphoric like this. I usually have to have a reason, but there’s really no discernible reason for these feelings, except the weather and season. And I wonder, why does it happen? It can have that strong of an effect?
Well, we are in tune with our environment, and it has a real effect on us. Our body responds to these cues, it is very aware, and it seems this combination is particularly invigorating and joyful for me.
The autumn euphoria was hitting me again this morning. After waking up I stepped outside, bringing the guitar, and I strummed it in the soft morning light, chilly but not uncomfortable, the sky a perfect blue, the sun starting to heat things up—and I felt simply euphoric. And to describe the euphoria – it is a strong elation or happiness, a warm feeling, filling my body, and making me so glad to be alive. That is the feeling. This morning, playing the guitar in the sun, slowly, a joy was released in me, a deep feeling of contentment and peace. The cars racing past my house, treating our sidewalk-less neighborhood street like a drag strip, couldn’t even puncture my veil of tranquility. I was calm and peaceful, tapped in to life and present reality, unbothered and content. It was blissful.
And this is all because of the weather? That’s what’s so incredible to me.
Eventually, the euphoria passes—I contemplate on what I want to achieve for the day, the sun starts to blast directly into my eyeballs, my face feels sunburnt, and I move on. But it’s there, and even now, at the cafe, I look at the window and see those blue skies, (I can’t say colorful leaves because these plants here are all still green) and something about it all feels very good.
This makes me want to say that autumn is my favorite season, but I remember all too well what comes after the euphoria. Grey, bleak, and cold. I think ultimately I am a summer man, although I appreciate every season for what it is. Spring is a great time of beauty and invigoration, fall for feelings of peace, contentment and gratitude, winter for introspection. But, if I could live in a permanent summer, well then I would.
The farthest thing from winter, yes please. Give me that.
HAKUMUSU 