change
More and more, when I leave to go somewhere, I take my keys and walk out the door without knowing exactly where I’m going. I mean that literally. It is only a metaphor as much as a first kiss is indicative of a long relationship—in a tenuous, yet wonderful way. It feels nice. I go to the record store with nothing particular in mind; I go looking for a new place to live without enough appointments or directions. I sit down to write without knowing what I want to say. It is a change.
And it works out okay sometimes. I’m genuinely excited about moving to the new apartment in Venice. For whatever reason, it is connected with and somehow illustrates an honesty which I have admitted to, well, only three people that I can remember. Chiefly it is that I want to spend my life making art. I feel like it is the only possible thing to do.
Art in this sense encompasses music, and further words, and also code. Aside: if you do not believe that there is an art to writing code—which seems like nothing more than arranging symbols on a screen such that the screen displays certain other symbols in a certain fashion—then you are approaching the art of programming in the same way that an unlettered peasant approaches a collection of Shakespeare. It is frustrating that this art, at which I think I excel the most, has such a high barrier to appreciation. So partly for that reason, I would like to explore other avenues of art, viz. music and writing, which I love equally but are so much more accessible to you. In this way, I can express myself more readily.
There are other reasons, but it is past my bedtime. #