Sun, Shine In My Eyes: Days 37–39 — The Promised Land(s).

|| Who/what are *you* trying to save? ||

photo: jianda monique

Who/what are *you* trying to save? What of dreams? What of purpose? What of promises, real or imagined?

The questions, the indictments, the learnings continue. All the while, the art keeps coming. we are a culture that fascinates itself with self-inquiry. I like this — perhaps even too much.

Even if the questions are not addressed or answered, you are forever changed by them once you’ve heard them. Whether or not you address or answer the questions (whether it’s due to disinterest, ignoring, not hearing, not comprehending, etc.), the communication still impacts you.

The truth can be cutting. Blunt truths can be kind. Who am I trying to save? With this? Myself. My soul. Salvaging creative salves. It is all that helps me to feel, and to feel better. Why share? Why not just write it in a notebook? Something about the public posting(s), “just for the wall of it,” something about it makes me feel I am accountable (to the sun and moon and clouds? To the 0's and the 1's? To the blank page throne?).

Blunt truths hit me like a two-by-four and continue to revisit, lest I forget that I’d forgotten to take a good look that one time. Lest I forget that I still “didn’t get it.” I thought taking a couple of days off of the compulsion to blog, learn, repeat… to continue, might help me to see some things. Fallow fields are a part of the process for me.

Who knows? I press on. But things need time to rest, refresh. Including your project. As usual, there are more questions than answers, here.

Last night, I dreamt of a gospel choir. I could barely hear the song. It was either myself or some other live band, singing along with them. Then they would switch off, back and forth. I was reading about a band that had a song where this was happening — that’s not uncommon — however, what was intriguing to me was the fact that I didn’t yet have a chance to listen to the song. My mind filled in the blanks with dreams and simulations. Then, upon waking, all I could remember was the image and the feeling(s). Warm, full of light, magical, diverse, harmonious, egalitarian, uplifting, sensual, one long moment of endless bliss. But it was messy. I think it was in a dirty barn. There weren’t many congregants if any. It was not necessarily a “service…” it was more of a celebration. No one was looking at the sky. Everyone was looking at each other. I was there. I just don’t recall if I was a witness/congregant, a performer, or both.

We are all here, together. Do I want people to read this, or not? How much longer should I feign insouciance? Am I trying to save you? Anyone? Myself? My friends? Has art saved me? Does anyone need saving? Does this really not matter? Each “publicly posted” (i.e. shared, published) musing, piece of artwork, picture, song, etc. that I notice has an impact. Why would I exclude myself from such sharings? Such celebration? Is this a pulpit, though? Is this some self-righteous kind of a deal?

Many folks in this city have a righteous vibe. “Way to go, Man!” (said sarcastically, natch.) if somebody litters or does/says some non-PC, “incorrect” thing. You walk by and you get kneed or elbowed if you don’t get out of the way. You should know to move out of the way. Your composting illiteracy is corrected. But then in terms of being kind or compassionate to the mistaken individual, after making such *verbal* declarations and being publicly noticed for them, this isn’t necessarily followed up with any kinds of kindness. A friend shared some great feedback about this! She told me, “They’re heading in the right direction. They’ll get there, someday.”

Plus, when people are shoulding all over the place ;) you don’t want to try and trump their Judgey McJudgerson M.O. with an M.O. of your own.

When I was a lil’ tyke, I used to want to share everything with everyone. Cool mixtape! New song! New album! Thrift store score! New philosophy! New affirmations! And so on. In my freshman year of college (geez…it is always my freshman year/day for something), I met people who were into so much of what I was into…and I realized that’s where it ended. Especially guys from the men’s college (our system was an interconnected, multi-college system). They’d be jocks and all manner of frat’ted up (I was in a diverse frat…our requirement was that you maybe signed a piece of paper. Our activities included making music in our house basement, and making music at keggers in the local cafe and in its basement. am I still a member? I never signed anything). We would share the most sensitive and soulful songs and the truth of that needing to the the extent of our connection would continually be shown to me. Selah.

sharing is great! Especially as a kid, you want to do this. Maybe forever, who knows? But not everybody is interested. People don’t want to see your fingerpaints on Mama’s fridge. Until they do. They don’t care about your musings. Until they do. This day may never come. It may not even by your friends or loved ones — they don’t need to. Do they care about you? Suh-sweet.

Your modus operandi (heck! This is a letter to myself! The word “you” gives me courage to admit this)…

Your modus operandi is to focus on your work. Your clay, your palette, your mic, your paper, your digits…such noticings are a part of the work. Modern day creatives generally aren’t gonna be going to the mountaintop and staying, coming back with “the good news.” We’re generally gonna need to roll up our sleeves and create between other paychecks. We don’t all have benefactors, but many do. And many of the famous artists you know about have loansharks (until the more commercial modes of distribution get cleaned up). I’m not so convinced that golden and silver spoons are so fab. At the end of the day and the crest of the evening, we’ve all still got tales, lessons, loves, challenges to unfold.

I can’t rightly say I want to share my artistry with the world and then share inaudible tracks. You could share one with me, I’m down with that! However, most people don’t have the time or interest to try and decipher your/my runes. I worked as a producer, A.D., wrangler on a couple of projects with a Warholesque director/writer. I love his work, and his aesthetic. And in the day-to-day, it was like a wrestling match, working with him. His work ethic was stellar. I adore him as a person. We loved exchanging musics. We had long, great conversations about art.

And about his art he kept saying he didn’t care. He didn’t care what people thought. He didn’t want people to see it. There was no point to the story. This aesthetic was huge at this point in time. All this effort made to make a visually stimulating movie — often “indie” or “faux indie” — and at the end of the story, “there is no point.” No catharsis, sometimes metaphorical middle fingers flipped. No release. Purposefully difficult. Yet so much time and money spent to make a point that there is no point. But I don’t like relationships like that. “You’re just kinda there until you’re just kinda not. we’re kinda having fun.” Insouciance is illusory. We are manufactured as, made as, come out da’ chute as passionate beings. Now, that manifests in many ways and can look as depressive as eff and as flatlined as eff…but there is still life source and life force in there. So why lie about it?

Art doesn’t save you. It just feels like it. We don’t save one another. It just feels like it. Now, elements of creativity/art can sure help. But who does the thinking about it? who comes to the conclusions? You do. your lover, your friend, your musings can surely inspire…and take you to such great effing heights. Who feels those feelings? You do. You inspire yourself and all those around you support you one way or another in those feelings of your own. Your own Spirit saves you. Your own Divine Intelligence saves you. Imbuing another with this power, or feeling you “have this power” is a disempowering and spiritually inaccurate way to think. Go for it if you need, however it can wind up making you trip yourself up. And in those lonely hours of need, it can make things so painful. Songs and other people can provide comfort and lighten the load, to be sure. And thank you, thank Life for that! I love that we can shine that light for one another! In instances and moments, in situations of course, we can literally rescue others (see: EMTs, courageous acts of heroism, etc.).

I am talking about emotional planes of experience, generally. creative plains.

I am coming to see that the art that is of interest to me is a relationship, and sometimes therein, it can take time to get to know. And that maybe the kind of art/relationships/friendships I am interested in don’t purposefully throw roadblocks in my way. Yeah, sometimes for growth’s sake, cool. But don’t get all Warhol like you kinda don’t care and then go home and write these voluminous journals about all these things and people you “don’t care about.” (Like Warhol did ❤) The truth comes out. It will out.

People can blow you off because they care too much. People can say they don’t care because they care too much, too. I do understand this. True disinterest is disconnection. No returns around the sun or moon. Radio silence with no desires to find that signal again. It is articulated through actions, reactions, and it can take time to read — because people can communicate with you because they want things from you. They want things having to do with you, your art, or your artistry. We are desirous creatures too. Fine and well — does the “want” jibe with you/r/s?

And back to expression —

If my headlines suck (tyb) or my sound is inaudible, (❤ O), then do I really care about my creativity or sharing it as much as I say I do?

#np “give give give me more more more” — the wonder stuff

I guess I can dig it. Eccentric folks, genii and egotistical folks often thrive via that energy source.

“I don’t care” is an aesthetic. “Leave me alone” is an aesthetic (Dietrich, old school Vedder, F. Apple). And often they are more productive than depressive folks or folks with deflated egos. Everyone in every state is working on self love and self image. Low self esteem is also an egotistical imbalance. It is more about coming into balance holistically than making any state of being right or wrong in my thinking. I want to bring balance or harmony and have a purpose in my creations/relationship with you (and myself) or maybe then, if I don’t, then I’ll just leave you be. I veer over to the side of generally leaving people be when I’m not sure if I am doing this or not. Contributing.

But contributing does not mean I am a host! And same for you!

Everything connects. I am still trying to eat healthier and be healthier. To be comfortable and safe feeling I can share transparently without repercussions. Punishments. Perhaps the veiled sharings reflect that. I even hide things from myself, forgetting things I wrote/created and then being surprised.

But then you’re not respecting folks who may or may not take the time to experience your work. So then perhaps you may stick to notebooks or realizing that your work, your posts are “read-only.” Meaning you are the only reader and it is a virtual notebook. And you need to be okay with that.

tweets that are not random.

I’ve changed, over time. I am really big on meeting folks where they are…and at the same time if our dynamics are not my preference and I come to learn that it does not work for me, then I just recede as easily and kindly as possible. Like a willow tree, maybe? Even though I am also often like a Muppet — this breed generally tends to express in all directions.

There are no words… I mean to say that as cutting as you/your piece of art may be, I still glean something(s) from it and find myself a little fascinated. There is a boldness in communicating like that, and sticking to it. The challenge is, recipients often wind up heading home with some injuries. some shrapnel finds its way into your body (of thoughts) and surgical removal may be needed. Only sometimes. It eases with practice. I find all kinds of communication to be helpful. Even the lack thereof. This has been such a gift to me.

I joke that I am like a goldfish in a tank (each new rotation around its world is a brand new surprise)…but what that is, is…that’s an animal that’s not in its right environment! So it’s not going to be in its right space…it might do things like being/feeling disoriented. Because it is.

What is your aesthetic? What is your desire/M.O./artist’s statement behind the aesthetic? Do you care enough to know? Do you care enough to plan? Sometimes we/you/I really don’t care. It’s important to allow space for that. Do not divide your power up. If you don’t give a care, don’t. If you don’t want to be transparent, don’t be.

I am coming to realize there is a time and a place for every color and shade of communication. It’s all about the manner and the method for me…what do I prefer? I am still learning. I mostly know what it feels like. What the relationships need to feel like. Art and outpictured. If you’re bullshting me or yourself, let’s just end this, this. Let’s not lie to ourselves about it. That’s what I’m learning. I don’t think it is a kindness to let someone lie to themselves about me, and it’s not a kindness to myself. Each communication/connection is a reflection. If your art is lying to me about something and I’m just lapping it up because it’s yummy looking that’s cool. Something in me needs to metabolize and make better sense of it, most times. I struggle with that. But it’s a felt sense.

Kerouac, many say, was a womanizer and sometimes a bit of a brute. I adore him and he teaches me about art to this day. I love the mess and I love the in betweens, the beauty and Zen, just everything. This doesn’t mean that we would ever have cozied up to each other, or been buddies. I meet you where you are, I meet the truth where it is. Sometimes we don’t know the truth immediately or ever…or it takes…. time! Or it slaps you upside the head. It is all and everything.

The Truth Will Out. The Truth Is Always Its Own Tell. It Even Tells On Us…Even the Most Clever Of Us. ❤

What do you feel you have been promised? By your spirit? By your maker? By your hopes and dreams? Do you feel you are owed anything? Do you feel entitled? If yes, if no, what are those answers about? Why do you create what you create? Why do you then take those next steps to share it? Is it because everyone shares everything these days? Everyone has that expectation? So you’re just doing like the Romans do ‘cause you’re in Rome? Roaming?

Are these answers any of your business? Any of my business?

Who knows? Only we know.

Keep digging. ❤

what I’m creating/doing now:

“Hey, how do I know, Connie…?”

Nah…working on an album. That’s so overdue. I will probably launch and go. So much to do. Time is so fleeting, flowing and amazeballs!

Discovering/uncovering new musics always!

Going back and loving up memories…that makes them new…you remember them anew. I highly recommend this.

Enjoying hobbit house.

Getting ready to make a music video happen (not ready, not fit enough — but when Spirit says now I can’t say no).

Trying to move from embarrassment to action: “Yeah I am embarrassed about all these things. I either need to do something or come to a conclusion about it/how I’ll be in light of it and get out of the amorphous embarrassment/s.”

Writing sprint on the way this weekend — always a pleasure!


what are you doing/creating, now? do tell!




I am open to your thoughts. Please feel free to connect with me.

I welcome you to come chat with me about these ideas. You can respond to this article here at Medium, or connect with me via the Twitter, LinkedIn or Facebook links below. Drop me a line at heartsongs101 @

Jianda Monique Song of the Moment: no 1

Jianda Monique Spoken Word(s) of the Moment: rest in pipe

songs are poems and poems songs, in my world. sometimes they are interchangeable — ❤

Seattle-Based, Jianda Monique is a musician, artist coach, newbie coder, data wrangler, writer, and so much more . She’s collaborated with acclaimed artists such as Tycho (“Dive”) and her music has been featured on many labels, including Om/Om’s seminal Om Lounge 10 releases.

For the last little while, Jianda’s been creating anywhere from 1–5 song, prose and spoken word ideas…per day! She will be sharing some of these releases throughout this blogging journey. She’s open to networking, creative coaching and project opportunities, and contract/freelance opportunities @LinkedIn.

Caveats regarding this series in particular: at times I disregard/break grammar rules (see Jack Kerouac’s manifesto), and I may also go back and add/remove things from pieces in these series. Often, I will post a draft that does not yet feel completely finished to me, in order to encourage myself to keep writing, and not to have to “do things perfectly,” and stay productive. I will do my best to add #wip and /or #iamwriting hashtags to indicate this. We live in the age of the living document. C’est les mots.

Want to learn more? Come say hi. : o)