CLICK HERE FOR EVIDENCE OF ME. BUT ALAN. BUT ME. US.
Mood : It’s becoming physically literally simply completely impossible to actually do anything that feels worth anything…
2 years of self directed study are coming to an end.. and I feel like I have very little to show for it. Others may disagree with me of course, in fact, a lot of people have. It has been worth it, hasn’t it? I know for sure the last 2 years have changed my life – that has to count for something, right?
And.. well.. I’ve been thinking about how I’m going to sum up my work – what is the conclusion to all of this?
I guess – the only thing I can say for sure is that… I’m alive.
And if life = art then that is probably a good thing.
Mood : Survival is enough
(Wish I had evolved enough by now to not question every thing and be able to get over self loathing/hatred/uncertainty. But if I was in that place then this journey would be over. And even though the end is nigh, it’s not finished yet. It probably never will be. Time is relative.)
Is this performance art?
Alan is I.
Use what you have
No point in forcing things to happen
Close your eyes
Is the universe
God, your eyes are stars
See how they run
See how they run
See how they run
See how they run
See how they run
See how they run
See how they run
I worry about everything.. I think about the past and the future all the time ..
I thought I was all about being all or nothing but really right now I’m lost in the middle
Afterwards, there was
the snow that never came
a bittersweet fragrance
for an infinite tide
wash over the bleak
surrounding the space where the light goes in
watch over the time
with you, with you.
Unsolicited music playing in various places .. Bluetooth speaker ?
> Save this for the future
This is another incarnation of a song I wrote / ALAN wrote. Do I collaborate with ALAN? or is ALAN separate. Are we the same?
As always, recorded straight into phone as I was sitting at the piano then processed by tweaking in garageband. I always make it try and not sound like me. I played to boyfriend and asked if it sounded like ALAN. He said yes then started trying to explain to me what dimensions were, and how cyberspace is another dimension and ALAN has no rules (or at least not like the ones we have on earth) so ALAN can sound how ALAN wants.
I started taking photos again. As me. As ALAN. Thoughtlessly. Not with my camera, with my crappy phone, because I stopped carrying my camera around with me, because I fell out of love with photography – or really, it fell out of love with me, and it hurt too much to have that weight hanging round my neck.
I am not sure, dear reader, if you have ascertained this yet, but allow me to confirm, I am an idiot.
Line between mask and disguise
I have asked if something is not real does it mean it doesn’t exist, if something is hidden does that mean that it cannot be seen?
that life may become worth living. something the monotony of ones existence that may have just seemingly randomly handed out. I am not saying here that if you believe you have been created, that your creator was at fault – rather the opposite – that you are created with a purpose but it is within your means to embrace and grasp it, to make the very best of it, so that you can be sure your potential as a contributor to this earth was reached to its absolute.
So if this whole Alan thing is to make do stuff I can’t do.. Then I have to start doing new stuff. I feel utterly helpless right now, I’m broke. No sleep. I have a boyfriend but no idea how to manage such a thing. I have a kid but no idea how to manage such a thing. I gotta clean the house and wash up and cook and go to work and live and breathe but it all gets too much. None of us asked to be here, but here we are. Existing. So.. As I have made this new existence.. What good is it if I don’t use it for good? What do I want to do that I can’t? Let’s add some realism into the mix Money Time Skill
Please I hate everything I hate myself I hate the way I look I want to be thin so I bought a smoothie maker.
Does Alan even care?
I want to make music videos Are they even relevant anymore So what Maybe ALAN is an amazing director and will help me achieve my dreams
I need to stop thinking in terms of what other people think is art I’m so conscious about what other people think all the time And it doesn’t even matter I don’t care what you think
But I do. So much.
And I over analyse everything and I’m way insecure. And obsessive. To the point of mass destruction. I need help I know this Who can save me? God? I’m already saved But But But
I’m still a rubbish human.
So can art change your life? I don’t like the term art but there you are. I’m reading Albert Camus now, I think I might start to write like him. Presently, I’m thinking nothing of it, though it might be having an effect.
last night, I was visiting an art exhibition but it was in a kind of classroom and the artist that was exhibiting had created a sort of map that changed as you walked through it (like holographically) even though to walk through the map you would only walk through tables, and then he put on a wig (EW MY WORST THING) and lipstick and was in a video about something, I think he said ‘do you like me?’ and I did like him, even though he had a wig on, and it wasn’t a video it was real life, then everyone went to his house for dinner and I had bought some bread that someone else really wanted (it was a black olive ciabatta) but I could never see the bread in the dream but I knew it existed and so did everyone else, and this woman kept asking where’s the bread and I just said it’s there – but I didn’t go into the dinner party I just left because I don’t like wigs.. especially when they’re combined with food.
I’m not remembering anything correctly
but it was a good dream
need to sort life out.
I don’t think I was in love with him.
I think I was in love with the idea or maybe the potential that I wouldn’t be alone.
So my heart’s not broken for him. My heart is broken for me.
This just entered my mind brain. Not sure what it means. I think it means that ALAN isn’t an alter – ego. It means I have been eclipsed? Maybe? I don’t know.
I started making music things again. I did this cover of ‘Everybody’s gotta learn sometimes’ and sent it to a coupla people in real life to see if I had a chance of ever playing music ever again ever…
I would NEVER have EVER done this without the little voice of ALAN whispering in my ear – just do it.
I am not the sort of person that puts myself out there. I hate everything I do.
So this might not be ‘ART’ but it does mean that I’ve started singing and playing instruments again and it means that I’ve started talking to people again. Which may not be extraordinary, but it is an important moment / turning point for me…
This is a cover of the song ‘Everybody’s gotta learn sometime’. After I recorderd this version (on my phone) I messed around with it in garageband.. so I’m using pretty much primitive methods here.
UPDATE : After recording this song I sent it to a couple of friends that I’m not really but kind of but not in a band with and we ended up playing it live together as part of an Anerki (local creative / music event) night. I was ALAN.
There’s a story behind everything.
Every photograph, word, painting, conversation, sound, image, everything every thing.
It got to this point, somehow. Isn’t that completely mindblowing?
I won’t tell you the story behind this, obviously to some it seems a boring image, rain on some kind of window looking out into some where non descript, but to me, to ALAN, it has meaning. Wierd, right?
This picture would probably go on ALAN’s world. Because it can. And it proves ALAN exists, doesn’t it?
This kinda also marks the beginnings of my life, I, Leonie, my natural life, being no longer my own. Someone else is with me now, ALAN is taking over. Who am I now?
I was ALAN when I sang some stuff and played drums in public today (as part of an open artists studio event in town). Actually – was ALAN me? Or are we just the same?
It was also daylight. Also the boy I like who doesn’t like me was there.
It’s hard to ALAN. It’s hard to me. But somehow I’m doing it. I have to.
Playing with glitchy gif maker thing on my phone helps pass the unbearable time spent with boy who doesn’t like me when we go out for a cigarette. I was trying to be cool, he likes digital things.. and I glitched a photo of him.
And I took a photo as proof of my hand. I mean ALAN’s hand. Maybe my hand, ALAN’s boot.
So.. is ALAN a musician now? I think so. Is music Art? I think so. Doing music when you’re being someone else and for the sake of being an artist is Art I think. The lines are fuzzy.
Notes from when I joined a band as ALAN (Drummer) and played a gig after 2 rehearsals.
How can one small seemingly insignificant thing hurt so much. How can it affect your life, make you change the way you hold yourself and things. (Reflection after burning my hand cos I was thinking about a boy instead of concentrating on literally hot things).
If a street can win The Turner Prize then I guess me being in a band can be classified as art. I got drunk that night and kissed someone I shouldn’t have. That’s what artists do, right? Art imitates life. This is my life. ALAN is my world.
Does this even mean anything. No.
The story has changed
who ALAN is..
First I have to know some things about me. Here is an inconclusive list of things in no particular order // Read more
My sister sent me this pic of my old school report that she found, ha. Must be from at least 20 years ago. Wow, I’m old.
// A sort of experiment
Hypothesis : That I will not meet ‘the one’ but I will have some good conversations, ‘real life’ meetings and make some new friends.
Actually, let’s think about this – this is Tinder we are talking about. So, scratch that.
Hypothesis II : I will experience utter disappointment after secretly hoping to meet ‘the one’ (even though this is Tinder we are talking about) and my faith in humanity will most definitely not be restored.
I know what I know, but I really don’t know anything about anything else.
Every conversation I have is tinged with regret, and after, a lengthy personal critique on what I just said – why did I say that? Man just keep your mouth shut.
You heard my words, where are you now?
How to be alone. I’m alone.
Sometimes I think I’m a stranger in my own life
I lie in bed and I think
I think about you
So I think about ALAN
Sometimes I think about cigarettes
I think about how I should quit smoking
But really all I think about is you
I think about wine
So many things happen to me when ALAN is ‘in’. Does this mean my subconscious is secretly seeking out ALAN related events? Or is ALAN actually real, really real, and as such I can see this natural world through ALAN’s gaze?
It’s not like I’m waiting for something to happen, but things do happen. All the time. Especially when I’m experiencing this world as ALAN.
Like this :
WHY WOULD THIS HAPPEN TO ANY ONE BUT ME? WHO ELSE COULD POSSIBLY WALK INTO A CHARITY SHOP AT RANDOM AND FIND.. WITHOUT LOOKING FOR IT, A MUG, WITH ALAN’S NAME ON IT?
Such things are beyond comprehension.
I didn’t buy it. Wish I did. Was too scared.
Isn’t all art about life or death. And isn’t all life about love or the loss of it. So doesn’t art = love / the sanctity of life / the preservation of love / and what happens when we lose it