Homeostasis, Social Life (incl. the Perils of Downshifting), the Joys of Guitar, Link to January Mix, Love You All

Good afternoon, journeyers. I've been tuning into Julia's show on WRUV, solid stuff, must say. Mondays from 12-2 EST.

Today's post is mostly to keep the blog door open, rather than to share anything deep or momentous. Last week's blog illustrates a lot of what's still occupying me this week. Not much new to report as regards worldview goals. 

Those who suffer from my private Snapchat story know that I got some decorations, and it's a little Sammier in here, at least. My room has become a cozier spot, and should keep getting cozier if my now twice-delayed Amazon packages ever arrive. Also, five or so friends want to come see me play at the fortnightly blues jam happening in a few days (working on not thinking I suck at guitar before I get on stage, as the thought process of "oh shit, I have to play good notes, fuck, shit" tends to directly oppose its own goals). I've met some Italian guitarists in the course of my amateurish attempts to be a weekend drinker, and they'll be coming too.

It's not quite as scary as it has been to sit with being here for another four months and three weeks, although it's still Decently Scary. Sitting with the discontentment rather than smoking it away is a matter of course now, making the feelings less devastating most of the time. I feel more even and placid in the face of bullshit events than I did when I had more ways to hide from them, and it makes life seem gentler overall. Things have still not been without their samsaric wildness--for one, I've been getting roped into some fun long-distance fights with my mom's worse aspects, to say not very much about it. Suffice it to say it's been almost completely no fun. Dealing with arbitrary or otherwise frustrating conflicts in amongst the absence of the usual homies to help me process and reconnect my fucked-with wires and plugs to Gratitude Reality, not to mention all this happening in a cold, bitter place that doesn't even have snow (nice views, though) has been--well, it has sucked. But I must say, with movedness and gratitude, that the texts and calls with some of you have been such tonics. You make me feel like a person, and properly loved, even over here, all by my lonesome. <3

My lonesome isn't too lonesome, either. Interacting with college students means meeting more people who are open to picking up on my vibes, and also means practice opportunities for getting people out of their shells. Back home, all my friends are either quite shellless to begin with or have long since been sprung out, at least around me and assorted others, by the Powers of Porch. Over here, among the more currently societally traumatized, I get to strengthen the muscles of "hey it's okay, it's allllll good, you can drop the act, you're here now", even though my spatial opportunities to make people feel at ease are limited--it's harder to effectively invite people to Level II when you're out walking, or in a classroom, than when when doing chillness drugs in the sunshine with a rotating aux. Still fun, though, and it teaches me how to make Sammy Leo a quicker pill to swallow in this zany Outside World.

One difficulty in the generally humanizing and anthropologically rich act of interacting with a broader pool of humanity is that I am no longer surrounded by hippie nerds, and as such I have to downshift to talk normal. People are all lovely and lovable at their core, when you get past their defenses and miseducations and bullshit, but anyone reading this blog already knows how much I love sprinting along conversational tangent lines with trusting abandon, and people tend to get confused when I do this, if they aren't the right combination of quick-processing, down for weirdness, and used to it. It's just how it is. You know. It's what it is. You know.

After a few days/weeks of talking normal, I start to feel the repression breaking me in like a glove. I feel like my conversational imagination is going to sleep. Aggravating. I'll find people who are down. I think I've found one or so already, a UVM man named Jack Doverspike (legend). He's a lot of fun. Down to explore weird side areas on walks, not one to sidestep a joke or fail to recognize a funny social situation. He's his own person (Indianapolis skateboarder/son of a factory worker/book nerd are some of his identity factors), but he does remind me a little of Tenju, for reference to the back-home crowd. Think non-coastal Tenju. Square-state Tenju. I know that's a difficult idea to smash together, but just do it. A fully Caucasian alter-Tenju who refers to his "boys" in conversation. This comparison is, as I say, approximate, but the Impressionists showed us that sometimes you have to distort the details in the service of a more overall conveyed idea.

If you don't know Tenju, I'm sorry. I don't feel like explaining Jack more, so you'll just have to imagine them both in the dark.

The guitar over here (haven't named it yet, it hasn't told me--this one, unlike Toothless, might be female, which is a hint for me at least) has been getting to know me more, and we've been having fun. I saw John Lennon tell a sound engineer in the Get Back documentary that he didn't know how his guitar was set yesterday, because "it's never the same two days in a row, y'know." I, in the past guilty of finding a good setting and staying there forever, took this as instructions. I've been messing around with the pickup and tone settings a lot, and have found four or so really fun and distinct tones just from the onboard controls (the amp is blessedly minimalistic in this regard--my Luddite brain can't get too overwhelmed). Having a Gibson-style semi-hollow guitar makes it easier to run through some fields: Arctic Monkeys and the Beatles in particular make a lot more sense a lot more of the time. Blasting through the power chords in Arabella feels actually worth my time, whereas on the sharp-toned Strat back home it's hard to feel properly muddy without a distortion setting, which of course would require a pedalboard, which of course would require money, which of course would require budgeting skills (something I'm reacquiring over here, with some volunteered and overzealous but nonetheless elucidating and kind help from my parents). I'm also practicing threshing out musical ideas daily. It's been pretty easy to at least pick up the guitar every day. Having a potential group lined up at home provides motivation, as does having found a place to play here. Thank goodness for music and those who make it. Moment of gratitude for them.

Speaking of music, I've been finding some cool songs and enjoying them. I've also been finding some weird songs and listening to them in case it'll make me cooler. I've also been appreciating some old favorites more, especially as I get more Buddhist in mindset (I'm talking about Dear Prudence more than anything else. What a fucking song). I've collected all these into my third consecutive Monthly Mix, something I like doing because it keeps me curious and looking around for new stuff. If you're reading this and have music you like/have just found and like, please please send it to me. Worshipping at the altar of Spotify algorithms all the time gets old, and February Mix won't construct itself.

Anyways, here's the January Mix: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6045iPWblW3QqVtOyZAVWL?si=cbca772bf2214b73

I hope you enjoy. I miss you all dearly. Your presences are beautiful, your ears and eyes open, your hearts cognizant of the priority of love. When I come back and get to be part of a fun living space with a porch again, I will work to make my parts of/contributions to that space as beautiful and fun and transportive and interesting as I can, because you people deserve a good time. Please come jam with us on the porch. Wake Suresh up.

Much love,

Sammy