Last week I watched a documentary on Pearl Jam. Afterwards, I logged into my laptop and started to read some of my blog entries starting from the time before I left Singapore. How time flies. I realized that my entries are dense, full of theories and analysis about the books I read, the things that happened to me and so on. I searched the blog for my articles on William Gibson, appreciating that I wrote good stuff in a roundabout way, natural for a blog entry without much concise thought or editing. I also looked at my entries in the months before I left and found that I posted scanned pictures of my mind maps, manual drawings written down to make sense of my projects or to organize my thoughts. I realized that my past actions in the blog did indeed have some foresight, to record my thoughts in writing as well as my visual thinking, in preparation for a new life. It was in a similar vein when I looked at my video clips the night before, the photos I took, like it was to record events and people that I would no longer see, months before my move across the ocean.
Perhaps that is the writer’s mentality, to keep recording as one makes his way in life, to be an observer so that one will write their experience in novels. There is a book that I bought in Amazon about the writer’s mentality that subscribes to this characteristic. I still have to read it. I wonder why watching Pearl Jam triggered my trip down memory lane. Perhaps it was the old songs, heard in some offhand way, because I was never a fan of Pearl Jam, preferring the sublime work of U2, the best rock band in the planet. But that’s a different genre with the other being grunge – but it was the youthfulness of the band members, songs that evoke naiveté unlike the hard reality of U2’s songs, dripping of the Irish civil war, or apartheid in South Africa that touches one to the core. Grunge music seems to be self-indulgent like it was revolving around their own reality, not conscious of the problems around them. Nevertheless, I reserved some of their CDs that I hope to hear them next week when I get their CDs from the library.
Last night I bought pork shoulder from a Mexican shop. The pork still had its skin attached. This type of meat can never be bought from an American supermarket.
Perhaps that is the writer’s mentality, to keep recording as one makes his way in life, to be an observer so that one will write their experience in novels. There is a book that I bought in Amazon about the writer’s mentality that subscribes to this characteristic. I still have to read it. I wonder why watching Pearl Jam triggered my trip down memory lane. Perhaps it was the old songs, heard in some offhand way, because I was never a fan of Pearl Jam, preferring the sublime work of U2, the best rock band in the planet. But that’s a different genre with the other being grunge – but it was the youthfulness of the band members, songs that evoke naiveté unlike the hard reality of U2’s songs, dripping of the Irish civil war, or apartheid in South Africa that touches one to the core. Grunge music seems to be self-indulgent like it was revolving around their own reality, not conscious of the problems around them. Nevertheless, I reserved some of their CDs that I hope to hear them next week when I get their CDs from the library.
Last night I bought pork shoulder from a Mexican shop. The pork still had its skin attached. This type of meat can never be bought from an American supermarket.
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