I'm so tired. Such an interesting feeling, being tired. It's not painful. It's almost a tension. And when you rest or sleep, it's like the tired was something that was filling you up and the sleep let's it escape from you. Sometimes it feel like tired is inside you. Inside your legs and arms. Inside your face and neck. But when you sleep, it all empties out. That emptiness is such a relief.

How peculiar. 

"Who can gaze into the mirror without becoming evil? A mirror does not reflect evil, but creates it. Therefore, one should have a glimpse in the mirror not stare into it."

This line from Ghost in The Shell 2: Innocence has really stuck with me. When we look into a mirror, what do we see? And why are we looking?

I ordered Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence online over the weekend and last night gave it a watch for the first time. The first Ghost in the Shell movie has been a favorite of mine for years and I've even read the manga so it's a little surprising that it's taken me this long to get the sequel to the movie. Kind of interesting how that happens. I wonder if since I had such fond memories of the first I was reluctant to see anything that might detract from the original work. 

I wonder if sometimes we live our life that way.

Hesitant to dive into new experiences because we feel it will detract from, or make the memories we cherish obsolete? Have we felt that sometimes creative works have tarnished our perceptions of a prior work? When we think of Star Wars or Indiana Jones or early albums from a favorite band, are we filled with happy nostalgia? Or do we feel sour that since its revival, what we once loved isn't how we remembered it? 

Is that our greatest fear? That the things that make up a part of ourselves will change for the worse? Or worse, that they never were the way we thought they were to begin with?

Regardless, I took the risk last night and I finally watched Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence.

And it was fantastic.

Happy Thanksgiving folks!

Here's a non-exhaustive list of things I'm thankful for. :) 

I'm thankful for:

1. My Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ
2. My wife and my soon to be born baby boy
3. My good family and friends
4. My country, the military, and the freedoms I enjoy
5. Computers and the people who built them that allow me to share my art, loves and dreams with all of you
6. Thousands of years of people who wrote great knowledge and wisdom in books for me to read and expand my mind
7. Police officers who keep my neighborhood safe and catch the bad guys
8. Kimchi, ice cream, and a good soda pop (my little soda pop) 
9. Artists who make great stories, write beautiful songs, paint beautiful pictures and fill my life with joyful experiences of wonder
10. You

You, who listen to my songs and share love. You, who read the things that I write and buy my albums. You, that left tips in my jars at shows. You, that believe in me and encourage me to keep making art, even if it's only enjoyed by you.

Because YOU are worth it.

Happy Thanksgiving my friends.

- Art

I've had a bit of a fascination with the peculiar for as long as I can remember. When I was a child the first distinctly bizarre thing I remember being interested in was Darth Maul from Star Wars. But maybe before that I was often drawn to media that was more unsettling and television shows that I wasn't allowed to watch. (Which, looking back, I do think was probably the right move by my parents in many cases) But as I've grown and tried to make sense of these tendencies, I think I have a better idea why. I think it has to do with perspective and imagination.

The first time I ever saw the movie Princess Mononoke I was maybe thirteen or fourteen years old. In the beginning of the movie, there's a boar who has been turned into a demon. It was the first time I had ever seen something that was so foreign, so unique, that I couldn't have imagined ever thinking it up myself. It took me a while to completely internalize what I had seen, but in that moment I felt like the walls of my imagination had been expanded, and I could feel and dream bigger than I could before.

What a rush.

The feeling of your heart widening for a greater depth of emotion. Your mind expanding to see and feel shapes you hadn't thought of before. This is one of my favorite things about good (and bad) art.

You hold my head with both your hands

Know I never had this planned

And I just don't understand

Why I'm crying

How did things turn out so hard

Like I barely even started

And this job won't get me far

But I'm trying

What can I do

When I lose

The parts of me I always loved the most

Nothing new

Feeling blue

Loving you

This is all I've got to give

And I don't know what it is

Have I lost my will to live

Just like my buddies

I heard Brad is dead and gone

I heard Tristan won't last long

I heard J blew out his lungs

And his momma saw it

What can I do

When I lose

The parts of me I always loved the most

Nothing new

Feeling blue

Loving you

Sometimes sadness sinks so deep

You can't even fall asleep

And it hurts too much to weep

'Till years later

I wish no one ever died

I wish I felt whole inside

I wish everybody cried

And someone held them

What can I do

When I lose

The parts of me I swear I loved the most

Nothing new

Feeling blue

Loving you

Nothing new

Feeling blue

Loving you

I don't listen to the radio often so I every once in a while I think I probably miss the occasional song that gets popular. I recently came accross the song "Routines in the Night" by Twenty One Pilots and it really resonated with me. I think it's really cool that art can feel so fresh and invigorating regardless of when it's released. "Routines in the Night" came out last year but listening to it for the first time was really exciting. Even listening to that Cranberries album the other day was really exciting and that music is even older.

I guess, if there are experiences or moments that are new to you then you should embrace them. It feels good to be around for times like this.