Sunday, August 23, 2015

80s music

   Being born in late 1963, I think of myself as a product of the 70's, having been between the ages of mostly seven through seventeen during that decade. These years were very informative as I look back over my life, and were instrumental in helping to shape the person I am currently. Of course, being a baby and young boy during the 1960's also contributed heavily to the present me, but I am more cognizant of the music and feel of the 1970's, and have more memories of this time, too.
   Thinking about it as I write, I have mostly chosen to ignore the period of the 1980's, I have been telling myself for years that it was horrible in every way, and while I still don't care for the aesthetics, I believe that hidden behind this opinion lies my mostly ignored and often repressed feelings that I experienced then. A slow coming around on my part to being willing to delve into some of those thoughts are the reason that I am writing about this time now.
   A consistent memory that I have is from (as far as I can remember) the early to mid part of that decade, being at the house of my friend Chris Orlow, watching MTV consistently high on marijuana. I had no regular job for much of this period, a girlfriend only intermittently, and being stoned was a way to be even less aware of what was going on inside of me than would have been the case if I was straight. Even before I started smoking pot regularly, I was already in a kind of haze, and never once during those anesthetized years did it occur to me that I could not be high; I now realize that marijuana certainly wasn't the ideal drug for this already somewhat paranoiac person anyway.
   Before a couple of months ago, I could think of very few songs from the 80's, but as I began to listen to more of this music, I began to remember more than I had previously, and realized that I really knew a lot of the music really well, some of which gave me great pleasure to hear again. This music also began to jostle loose some of my memories and feelings from the time as well (that process is, I hope, still in its' infancy).
   I first heard (and often in what seemed like in endless repetition) much of this music sunken deeply and depressed into my friend's couch, so these songs came to me in a bad way, but I also received them like that, and much of that reception has stayed with me over the ensuing years.
   So I've become mostly open to the big hair and bright colors of the time, aware that in some way, perhaps, my dislike of the 80's aesthetic is a blind spot to my own emotional history.

Friday, August 14, 2015

Posing for selfies

   A week or so ago I saw two people taking their own picture in what is now known as a selfie. They had their phone or  camera (I couldn't tell which from where I was sitting at the time) on a metal rod that I understand is known as a selfie stick, but until recently I never really noticed being used by anyone. Perhaps I had failed to notice it because I didn't know what to call it.
   So this couple were there taking their own picture, but while they were doing this they were also being photographed by someone else, which struck me in a very powerful way. It made the posing appear that much more posed, suddenly breaking through the cultural ideology and repetition which had served to mask it to some degree for me. I like to believe that I am not fooled by these naturalizing effects, but this image showed my that I am not immune.
   I have for most of my adult life been keenly aware of the staged aspect of reproducing something visually, and photography, film and theater have often been more about the production for me than what is being portrayed, (the scene) in the medium. Perhaps partly because my father worked in advertising, and certainly due to my own cynicism and Marxist-influenced approach to cultural readings, I rarely see images produced by human beings as in any way 'natural', yet even with all of these years of awareness, I can still be surprised by how all of these elements can deceive me, as this selfie moment showed me.
   When I first saw this couple and their photographer, I was struck by the beauty and strangeness of the moment, and I don't want to detract from that by focusing only on how it showed me how fooled I have been, The experience of breaking free from cultural mores, even if only by witnessing my perceptions of others, has been exhilarating at times, but they do also show me to be a captor.