art is hard

I have this knack for being happy about something and then overthinking it, until I convince myself I am not happy. When it comes to my career and what I want, I know that I am doing fine, but I always feel like I should be doing more. I'm not sure when it will ever be enough. Right in the knick of time, I was recently asked to make playlist art for the Free People Music Committee.

I wasn't that creative for the January playlist as it was being archived away anyway, but I gave February my best go. Found out it's hard to make art about love when you aren't in it.

Oh and you can check out a fun little feature I got to be a part of on the BLDG25 blog, here.

I traded out my air guitar for a keytar a while back.

scraps n crap

Here are the things I stole, the things I was given, the things I found and took last week.

I've adopted this new attitude/life philosophy and it's "Okay, yeah sure."

As a result, last week was a really weird one.

& I loved every minute of it.

Even the part where I was attacked by a chonga on bath salts.

• Ugly Girl Gang Zine by Tuesday Bassen from the Los Angeles Art Book Fair.
• Cha Cha selfies .
• Miniature switchblade I bought in Venice on my 23rd birthday.
• PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY AT THE SMELL.
• "I don't know what I would do if any of my friends died. And it's gonna happen someday. If you died… I would be a shell of a person."
• Feels pin.
• Pins from LAABF.  "READ A BOOK YOU DUMB BASTARD!" & "DON'T TOUCH ME."

Special note 4 u:

wet.

I think we better quit while we're ahead.

free write

With trepidation, I should admit that what I am about to say about having a personal blog could be a side-effect of getting older. Lately, I've been reflecting a lot about what privacy means to me. It would be naive to assume that everyone who is reading this right now cares about the things I say. It would be naive to assume that potential employers, mates, etc. haven't browsed through this to make educated guesses about me as a person.

Side note: If this is the case, I am awesome and the best (insert thing you are considering me for as long as it is not super weird) you'll ever have so you can stop reading this thanks.

Anyway, It would be especially naive to assume that the people who like me the least are not the ones reading this the most. And I know I have already hurt a handful of people being as brutally honest about certain situations. One man's artistic integrity is another man's "Hey, did you really mean it when you wrote…"

And so it goes.

As the blog views round up into numbers that take me a few tries to say out loud (because I might have numeric dyslexia), I realize that even though it feels like it, I'm not just typing letters into air anymore. On one hand, it's amazing and liberating and fulfills that part of me that wants to be like an "alt" Carrie Bradshaw but with like a touch of Tina from Bob's Burgers. On the other, it's terrifying and a bit confusing why I have a reader from India whom I know specifically read the post where I took a bath and got grossed out by my own "butt-water".

(Hire me. Date me.)

By the way, if you're the reader from India- I want to be your friend and I'm sorry if this embarrassed you but it sounds really cool to say I have a reader in India, so keep reading. Seriously, धन्यवाद!

As much as I want to write about the people and the things that break my heart, I shouldn't.
As much as I want to write using cuss words about things that are pointless, I shouldn't.
As much as I shouldn't want to share the insane, brilliant, haunting, sexy, ugly, funny events of my life

I will continue to try.

Maybe with just a little more grace (and maybe like a cool-slash-intriguing, patchouli-scented mystery vibe (?) I dunno, I'll let you know how this goes (am I allowed to do this within a parenthesis?) Do you think this is how Sunn0))) got their name? I'm leaving this here so I remember to Google it later).

Because, for once, I have started something I don't feel like quitting (and it's really taking everything out of me right now to not quote Jack Twist from Brokeback Mountain and completely ruin this post so just ignore this part if you didn't hear the line in your head when you read the beginning of this sentence).

Okay, but seriously.

Grace.

Let's do this.

scraps n crap

Here are the things I stole, the things I was given, the things I found and took recently.

• Tami gave me a bag full of funny and touching gifts for Christmas. My favorite was this strip of vintage stickers.
• Photobooth in Santa Monica. I don't find these pictures of me to be particularly attractive, but it's me, hey.
• Postcard I bought at the Louvre last year.
• "This card certifies that Kat Miranda is an official member of the Stay Home Club. Expires Dec. 31, 2512. Non-Transferrable."
• Morrissey pin.
• An arrowhead that Aaron gave to me on New Years along with other various perfect gifts.
• I found a pound.
• Chris from The Dolorosa's new business card.
• From time to time, I have been known to bring the ruckus.

miss me?

When I was sixteen, a girl named Sarah steered me in an interesting direction musically. At this time, I had just started playing random instruments in Jazz, Concert, and Marching band and spent about 3-4 hours every day playing everything from mellophone to drums. I was not a band nerd, but I was definitely not popular, yet everyone knew me. No one, bandmates or friends, really ever understood why the hell I kept showing up at 7AM for zero period jazz band to play the same second-chair trombone part on Take Five for two years in a row. Honestly, I really have no clue now that I think about it. All I know is that I loved it so much.

 Sarah gave me a handful of albums that I immediately fell in love with including Jack Off Jill's Clear Hearts and Grey Flowers, a random mixed CD with her favorite songs from The Adicts, John Frusciante, David Bowie. Together we discovered The Blood Brothers and, randomly both got into CKY (why the fuck?). Anyway when she gave me the self titled Dresden Dolls album and I listened to it straight for about a year.

This should tell you a bit about a lot.

This song and this performance and this woman is perfect.

true story

I reached the peak of my intellect at age 5.