Food for thought.

I just read what I've written and I really wish I'd gone with my original intention to blog about the Fonz and not this "heavy stuff maaan". 

But impromptu ideas should be honoured and followed up sometimes, as this drivel explains..

I was bumbling about on the keyboard trying to find a suitable way to start this blog business. I started with "I". That says it all really. 

The abhorrent undercurrent of vanity that accompanies all means of an individuals online presence, is the very thing that keeps it all going. Facebook, twitter, etc. 

Vanity is harmless and necessary in controlled doses. Our life-long friend the ego is a beast that needs feeding. After all, he's partly responsible for self-preservation and in turn.. evolution.
Pretty important really. Knowing I can write here, on this blog, is just saving that unsuspecting man (and his ears) on the tube from my flurry of constipated verbs and stinky opinions. - Which would probably be coupled with a shower of saliva because I get a bit animated and have been known to embarrass myself by raining spit on strangers.  

(I never spit on anyone I know.. why is this? Maybe I will start, to even the field a bit.)

So this page will be soiled with self-important bile, all things music, art and maybe the odd bit of toilet-visit feedback. 

You might argue that my music and my toilet-happenings are one and the same. This is true really. 

They are soul shits.

Me mam conjured up a sterling analogy relating to this the other day. She says she looks at the artwork she creates and wonders where it came from, much like you might inspect your human waste. "When did I eat that? How long has that been waiting to come out?" etc. Sometimes you might write, draw or paint something that appears to have flown in and perched on your mind like an orphaned winged thought from the ether. "I don't know where it came from and there is no return-address!".

A creature that flies vicariously and easy through your fingers or larynx, fully formed as if you were inseminated by some cosmic goblin and you've been the incubating vessel for a creation that you don't feel you can take full credit for as a parent. As much as I believe that that's how ideas come about, that they hopscotch in from another realm, I also believe that it's the potion of your experience, stimulation and emotions that make the broth to carry the idea-dumpling. - Permeating the nugget and flavouring it with the essence of "you".. and so you ARE responsible for it's brilliance, if not its conception. 

My Dad put it in a similar way by saying that you're essentially a food processor for every source of inspiration, wanted or not, that you come into contact with.  He said his songs are soul nuggets. I imagine these to be made of a compound of unidentifiable fibres he has mashed together, proudly hand finished in golden-breadcrumb and fashioned into a happy face so as to obscure the true nature of the masticated mound.

This gives a whole new meaning to the phrase "you are what you eat".

Why then - do so many people, myself included, spend their days filling their cerebral wonderlands with absolute trash?  Bad vibes, energy, people, crap TV. I am guilty of all the above and more. 

If you are a direct reflection of your experience.. this is an all together terrifying and exhilarating thought. This then means that you can be a product of your favourite stimuli, you can let all the things that leave you reeling in wonderment become a part of your subconscious and conscious and in turn, become a part of you, just by your being around them. You and your creations can become wonderful by proxy!

I mean, this is truly empowering stuff, right? That we are responsible for the calibre of our own creative exports and disposition and it's just as simple as being around people you admire, learning about the things that excite you and trying to filter out the negative input into our psyche.

Well here comes the J-Lo. The big BUTT.*
Unfortunately for you, me and the majority of civilization, the negativity seive has HUGE holes. We rub virtual-shoulders with so many influential elements without being able to fully control the ingredients that go into making your personal soup and your creative offspring. Distracting trivia is a pretty bad culprit. "OMG, BRAD has split with Angelina and Justin Biebers pubes are on fire and Lady GooGoo is.." (continues to flap elbows about spouting celebby garbage at increasing pace til spontaneously combusts).

Ooohoo, Adverts too. Adverts = evil (don't get me started!). "Everybody loves the great taste of CRUNCHY-O's! Try our new flavour called SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES! Available in a flavourless, odourless invisible package that you will unknowingly digest, it's fun for all the family!"

It is criminal that our fragile senses are unwittingly bombarded day to day by so much intravenous media! We're left with no choice. A bi-product of a viscose world shaped around money, fear, power and greed teamed with the need to pacify the lot of us so that we become subservient and benign as a race. 

WELL HELL NO TO CRUNCHY-O'S!

Let's let our prized posession, our mind, sup on the ambrosial nectar of the divine and not bloody Eastenders and potato smileys. 

Let's read, dance, paint, talk, ask questions, marvel at nature, eat new food, feel love, enjoy other peoples creations and CREATE ourselves. There is so much destruction in the world and although it's fair to say that you can't have one without the other (as is often the way with good and bad) creativity, originality and imagination are the flames that ignite us as a race and allow us to develop and experience ourselves and life in a fulfilling, joyful way. So why wait to create?

I am going to try and pay more attention to my surroundings, follow my intuition (/third eye, which I like to think blinks important messages at us in whispered morse code) and narrow those floodgate type holes in the negativity seive. If you could design yourself, just as you would design anything else, where would you start?

It's thrilling isn't it, to think we have the potential to be as wonderful as that which we consider wonderful, if we just give our brains the good stuff instead of chicken feed.

So, I think you most definitely are what you eat and in that case I need to go on a trash-diet. I also hope I haven't given you constipation.

* and for the record I support healthy bottom sizes. Big bums are great.