This winter break I’ve been light on leaving the house all that much, and although it started with a brief bout of what looked like depression, it’s turned into me inadvertently rekindling my love of all things pop cultural and my own company not only not driving me mad, but actually being pretty enjoyable.
I’ve spent literally days just hanging out in the house on my own, reading books and listening to records and watching movies and remembering all the stuff that used to make me happy when I was young and it was all I needed. This isn’t to say I have become a complete recluse, I’ve been doing loads of daytime hangs with all my nearest and dearest(s) today was spent traipsing the streets of London town with miss Jessica and comic shopping, ranting, laughing and geeking out.
One of the reasons for this outpouring of positive literary emotion is that I just 5 minutes ago finished BAD HABITS by Cristy C Road. I’ve been a longtime fangirl of her artwork since picking up her postcard artwork book in St Marks books a couple of years ago. I recognised it from a TPB cover we used to stock when I still ran Graphics in Foyles.
It’s been forever since a book made me want to write again, but this one has me up late making notes for the book I’ve been meaning to start on forever now. It’s an illustrated novel that charts a year in the life of miss Roads when she first moved from Miami to Brooklyn. There are many, many reasons I fell instantaneously in love with this book, although different in style it reminded me a lot of the My Evil Twin Sister publication NOTTA LOTTA LOVE STORIES. I think this is because the entire thing is written from an obviously punk rock point of view, but one that is barely punctuated with band names and subcultural references. The kind of book that reminds you why we all got into this 3 chord genre in the first place (it’s cos we all, on some level feel different, but the same y’all – you dig?) and leaves you feeling sorta affirmed in the least cheesy way possible.
The reason I felt such a connection with this, besides my well publicized love affair with Brooklyn, is to me this was a story of growing up and figuring stuff out, while accepting you still kind of want to be a little bit of a fuck up. But less of an alcoholic fuck up, wandering the clubs with a little hint of desperation in your eye. About turning all of that emotional junk into something if not good, then a hell of a lot better than you ever expected you could. It made me remember what it is I know I’m supposed to be doing, and actually (maybe) gave me the inclination to start doing it.
I’ve realised the only things I can truly connect with are the things made by people who have some common ground with me, this doesn’t make me closed minded, it just makes me fascinated with why we are the way we are. This is totally different from self absorption, haha. Anyway, I now have an even bigger girl/writer crush on Christy and want to find a way to hang out next time I’m in my favourite of all places.
And on that note, I’m off to smoke a cigarette, drink some green tea and try and figure out what it is that I’m trying to say, you know, in the scheme of things.