i figured myself out.

so there are three voices. i have identified them before, but now they have back stories and reasons for why they are they. in the circumstance of solitude.


1. my mind. definitely the elementary school 'that guy'. the mean stupid kid in class who is told lies and believes them, and proceeds to spread the lies to the stupidER children surrounding him. making him feel powerful and necessary. later he learns the truth and chides the others for believing in such nonsense. he is a cocky one indeed...


2. my heart. in this scenario, best described as a distressed puppy who's realized it's owner has left them. POTENTIALLY FOREVER! because in the immediate observation of the puppy, they are not currently here THEREFORE with all the numerous possibilities of their whereabouts the most plausible is surely that they have bailed and forsaken him to a lifetime of isolation! it goes hand in hand with the mean stupid kid because the whole time he's feeding lies like:

'do you know where they went?'

'yea?'

'they left you. because..'

'yea? because?'

'because they never actually loved you.'

'waahhhoooooo noooooooooo'.


3. my soul. my soul is the confounded dad who comes home and realized his kids have literally had a poop fight all over his neat and tidy office. he strolls in, all sure of himself, proud of what-he-has-done, only to find HIS offspring hanging on to the tiny thread of acceptability left in them ONLY because they came out of his sack. after the initial shock and rage at what his spawn have done, he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, realize that yes, even poop washes out (especially under the iron fist of this fatherly wrath), and that later it will indeed be the best story he's capable of telling about his children to the girls they want to be with (cuz c'mon... girls don't even poop, so how could they fight with it?).


this concludes my thoughts for the day. which i did instead of eating.

i'm about to start

but truly, i've already started. i just haven't begun yet i guess... if you want to be a literacy wanker like that then yeah. there is no difference... and therefore i make talk like there is, and THEREFORE i am a meddling ironic (in the attempt of the word as a character trait?) twit hipster that takes pleasure in feeding big ideas into small words. so.. to answer my unwritten question (to which i should ask at the end, TO WHICH i'm writing because i can't think of anything to 'paint' about (so i should... rant about... (right?))!), if you build it, i'll probably come... if it's excitable. the question is, what do i paint about for this 'twenties exhibition'? erhmm, the premise:

A shrinking world with media saturation that approaches 100%, so called “Millenials” have experienced things only imagined in the past, and this new world has made an quite an impact. Torn between paradoxes such as the internet’s ability to both foster and destroy social interaction; television programs that told us we could be astronauts but got us addicted to its flickering glow; and our immense desire to travel the globe that is only eclipsed by our staggering apathy towards local affairs.
-Jaron James

who is jaron james? who cares. i was asked to participate, and participate i shall. opportunity knocks and i must take it, bemused and prepared to represent my current mental status to the world. my consensus so far is that i'm distracted, easily distracted, a leader, a shaper (not a word?! i know NOTHING ANYMORE) of the future, a sharpener (oh hell yes spell check. enable me.) of future minds, and surveyor of current affairs. local or non. constantly. whether i want it or not. basically i am shaped, sharpened, and sent out into the world FROM the world. influence is my building block of identity and what i scrape away makes me unique and different from you. and how much i scrape. and how much i put back, and how much i steal when no one is looking, and how much i try to change my one little minute corner of perspective.

goodness gracious look at the words above. these are the words that need to be drained from time to time to grant myself some clarity FROM myself and the conniving betraying d i s t r a c t i n g elements of my surroundings that i take in and let dictate my actions. and thoughts. but not emotions. those belong to me. for whatever can belong to me, they are they. all i really want is to wreak havoc on the minds that think in linear thoughts (mainly because i can't and i'm possibly jealous? ooooooOOOOOOOooooo that's the gold i've been trying to dig up.) and mesh them into a reality i can't control but can influence. EGADS influence is cyclical! who knew... YOU probably did. smart ass observant in the background with the clipboard. i know you're not looking at me, but you're scribbling and your scribbling is distracting. all in all, yeah it's probably all just a little bit of jealousy crammed into a big fish bowl of possibilities and expectations. but what happens when we exceed the potential of our expectations?! good shit i'm sure.

hmm. this feels like a start. i have a foundation of subtle untamed jealousy, and visual metaphors like fishbowls and shattered drippy messy interaction with me, myself and society.

and confession time. i have a filthy mouth lately. and not just perfectly laid and placed shituational f-bombery, like too much. i must focus more and many things and not lose my edge. it's not laced with anger or damaging contexts, but it's losing it's fire and becoming common. i shant be named tyler common-tongue. or cinnamon fingers (if cinnamon was infected with negative connotations involving poor literal leavings). the silver-tongue returneth, met only and truly with cocaine fingers. jokes. that'd be crazy (like the wandering meandering lookalike words of above? shhh). what is sweet (in essence or... hippy description) and... powerful? of course. sand. tyler sandy fingers. chalk that one up to my mind full of sand castles. nostalgia/current intruding fantasy/desire victory.

as i draw to a close...

of my final year gathering the experience of one who is one quarter century old, i have some parting (or partying) thoughts for my previous 24 completed.

1. wedding farts happen. wedding farts are acceptable when accompanied with the excuse and actual presence of 'these damned children'. wedding farts cannot and will not be contained by suppression, because too much celebration drinking causes the allowance of every muscle in you to say 'no negativity on this day'.

2. back the friends who want you to be involved in their wedding. whatever i think of the relationship is secondary to how they feel about each other. also, beer, beer, wine, best man speech, beer, wine, mead, beer, beer, beer, beer, mead cocktail, mead cocktail is an inappropriate way to stay sober.

3. it is possible to get home from golden in two and a half hours. don't get caught.

4. throwing plates off the edge of a cliff is an amazing way to not carry around an empty plate anymore. friends follow with pint glasses. opa.

5. kiss first, ask later. or read the girl and know what is needed. then do what is needed. act on the know. fo sho.

6. mothers are amazing. fathers are sculptors.

7. if you travel two weekends in a row, or twice in one week with trips at least an hour and a half in length, you will squash wanderlust for at least double the time it normally takes to get over standing still.

thr33 things.

1. stampede. i had forgotten what stampede makes me feel... hype... joy... rage... unraveled standards... flannel... every year i forget how douche-y dudes look when they try to wear cowboy hats if they aren't actually a real cowboy. and every year i forget that cowgirls destroy me.

2. kelowna. thr33 things about kelowna.

2.1. it is gorgeous. like disgustingly gorgeous. gardens and vineyards and beaches and a slow paced lifestyle? disgusting. i thought i could live there. but i could not. because eventually a girl would walk by in a flannel bikini and what would follow would be the quickest most daring wedding proposal AND ACCEPTANCE ever. it is the california beach town of canada. no argument.

2.2. it is ACTUALLY slow paced. enragingly so. so much slow moving traffic it nearly destroyed suzy and i. just hogan said that normally a 15 minute drive would be too much to consider for peeps in kelowna, but since i am calgary folk it was nothing. which was true. so THAT wasn't that bad. but traffic = nightmarish behavior.

2.3. cloud cover on a wonderful ultimate tourney day is the greatest environment for frisbee ever. that grass was like... clouds. i could dive all day on it. plus my first tournament ever has left a wonderful frisbee taste in my mouth. it tastes like... an extra ounce of love i didn't know was there. going 5-0 sure helps. kelowna is branded with this happening forever.

3. travel itch temporarily relieved. i am happy to be in calgary with SO much going on. weddings and parties and tattoos and paintings and frisbee oh my! call me a prairie boy for now. NO. do not. a foothills boy. oh yes.

there's a nervous energy about this place

shit! i've done it again. stumbled upon the random romantic notion that disappearing is beautiful and i could pull it off. wander away like the end of 25th hour, become lost in the grain of human traffic, working at a restaurant for food and bed, getting inspired by the conversations with strangers and coming back home full of industrious and inspired ways to create.. flip. so much is possible with no strings. minus the financial complications... but easy fix right? just pack up and go? stupid wonderful driftdivision... i don't normally feel inclined to purchase music, but as this one could not be found to download, i had to do the unthinkable. but i have no regrets, as it is probably the best impression of music i've had at 7:30am before. le perfect, and now i can listen to it whenever i want. but he talked about how after his band matchbook romance broke up, he was so devastated that he kinda quit everything and just worked as a waiter in pennsylvania for like three years but kept writing music, then came back with THAT marshmallow of an ep and now i'm all up in wanderlust. but like.. 2nd degree. i'd miss everyone and everything here, but the THIRST for adventure i have right now, i tell ya. i've never wanted to go to pennsylvania before but now i think it wouldn't be that bad. sigh.

here's what else is surprising me.

music:

sparta. i know nothing of them but they sure do hit the spot in the right circumstance.
awolnation. beyond sail i don't care too much yet, but sail alone makes up for any discrepancies. / dubstep in general is wreaking havoc on my expectations for house music.
mother mother. i haven't invested enough to really care for them yet, but the stand and aspiring fires are like... the most innovative songwriting i've ever called 'innovative'.
p.o.s. / hip-hop as a genre. kicking my ass in the right way.

movies:

super 8. it was pretty swell. i really really enjoyed 98% of it. good storytelling is hard to find these days. and GOOD kid actors? man oh man. i wish i had gotten into more trouble as a kid. i'm gonna unleash some adventure demands on my children so they can have their character shaped by a series of devastatingly epic happenings. until then, i'll quietly judge j.j. abrams as someone how can't close well. not bad, just not well.
(wow that's kind of it. i think movies are on my hate-scope lately. although i'm excited for a lot of movies coming out soon.)

food:

jokes. nothing surprising. i'm considerably more hungry lately than i have been before lately. i blame camping and what it does to me. and the heaps of frisbee i play.

man i don't even know. i just love summer. and my position in life right now. i think i may be aching at the absence of a 2 month road trip with my bro, so maybe that pent up desire is seeping through the longing for being here right now. good thing i have staples like weddings, parties, and frisbee restraining me from making this a legitimate possibility. come september though? lookout states i have not yet become intimate with.

i'm the in between. where can i ride to where the sun rises?

the pounding thumping raging desire is back. i can't control these things but the things within my control are coming into view again and i don't know why- but i guess it's time to take a chance and seize the reigns. or something. i want it to be the time. so do i make it the time? i still know what i know even though i've known before and it's broken me but i think i've healed enough to take the chance again. i'll bring my heart along with me i guess... i've got bandages in the backseat but i'm sitting shotgun.

i'm going to sit here until i remember what i was doing.

and until then i'm going to mentally rant about themerica and why patriotism sucks balls. but you know why and i don't need to say it, so canned it remains. in other news, i have a crap load of things to do. and to better ease my mind (and so i can remember what i was supposed to d- OH! check gmail email.) i should write it all down. via blog so i'm somehow accountable to my word.

-finish watching 'party down'. i heard this show was criminally cancelled like 'arrested development', so i downloaded it and have been intaking it hard and with only 5 episodes remaining in the series, my heart breaking is becoming more and more inevitable.

-but seriously.

-finish mason + regina's painting

-start 70 billion other paintings.

-feel significant.

sigh. i really do have a lot to do. i am just grappling with post-lunch pre-dinner apathy and unwillingness to redefine the world. for now... talk to me in 5 minutes when i'm neck deep in paint and poetry and blasting away false disciplines with new hardcore and impassioned folk music. what a verbal battle we would have then. i'll come up with new lines like 'this would be the first time i wrote about her' or fake a beat in my head and rhyme joy with deploy. and we would dance the dances of 'dances with wolves' (if indeed it wasn't just a name but an action).

extended sigh. i feel good on this day. weekends suck the life out of me. the beginning of the week is fresh and abundant with opportunity and rejuvenation. monday is my mistress.