THE Beastie Boys Book, Feminism, and A Must Read. All in All A Good Trip to The Bookstore

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So lately on YouTube I have been seeing these segments of Mike D and Adrock of The Beastie Boys doing this stage show talking about the history of the band. At first I thought it was all about the passing of the great Adam Yauch A.K.A. MCA. Turns out it goes deeper. This is the history of one of my favorite bands, told by the band. The book is just what you would expect, not ordinary but extraordinary. Highly stylized and funny the book is much like the band. On the surface everything is a joke, dig deeper and there is the real soul of a defining group in early hip hop. The Beastie Boys share a special place in my musical lexicon because while they were growing, so was I. The Beastie Boys Book is a must for any fan or just anyone who digs culture. The group had so much range and was always part of, yet individual from whatever was going on.

R.I.P MCA

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    • The Art of Feminism Includes some of my favorite artists. Jenny Holzer and The Guerilla Girls. Both didnt truly get their due in the Street Art movements history. It's absolutely bonkers that a lot of the books topics are still going on or were not long ago at all.
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My favorite current street, graffiti, whatever. One of my favorite artists SWOON.

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Beyonce quote. Agreed.

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The next book I really really really recommend is Patti Smiths FANTASTIC book “Just Kids” about her early life with fellow Artist Robert Mapplethorpe. This book is filled with the feelings that I have such a hard time conveying about the magic of youth, love, and the need to create. Patti Smith is tender and rough and, well fuckin Patti Smith, I need not say anything other than read this.

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So there we go, now you have some books to brag about and show off your well read worldly nature.

Pick them up at Barnes and Nobles, your local Mom and Pop, Amazon, You know the deal…

The Control Myth

I am really trying to figure out who I am. I have reached a real level of honesty within. I have reached a point which holding grudges or hating is not worth it. My childhood was much more difficult then I have ever admitted to myself. Never abused, molested, etc. but my family is blended. My 2 sisters are half and my brother as well. I am a symbol of my parents union, which I always knew was something that has a multitude of dimensions. I have heard constant lies or half truths about my parents. At one point I feel one sibling was almost trying to recruit me. Recruit me as they were. I have had to keep certain siblings at arms length hoping I won't have to fully let them go. They have their side, which is valid but I feel those who spend time trying to disgrace something are holding onto some abstract truth. Anyway, just an example of my path, one issue and I must say I am blessed. I have realized that at my age now I have limited wisdom. I can see growth in my art, stages or states of mind. I am lucky to have art as an anchor in my pursuit to learn who I am. While semi successful this is what really matters. Art is a person within that listens and lets me vent.

What I have come to understand is you do not happen to life, life happens to you and control is a myth.

Most think this is an act of immature ignorance. Necessary is what I call it. John Michael Gill. 2017.

Most think this is an act of immature ignorance. Necessary is what I call it. John Michael Gill. 2017.

Insomniac (Eyelashes)

 I lay there, awake next to my wife. My mind will not quiet itself. I think of thousands of things all at once, some pleasant, some disturbing. I keep visualizing the human body which comforts me but I can't hold it. Again and again I reposition myself but nothing works, no comfort tonight. In the back of my head is the thought that my son will be awake early and whatever sleep I might get won't last. Again the human body, some faceless woman poses for me and all I see of her face are eyes forever changing. 

 This is a losing battle. I get up and put my headphones on. I walk out on my balcony and smoke a cigarette. It's cold now in Washington and peacefully mist falls. I think about the fact I am a night person, I always have been. Having my son has been hard on my sleep patterns. It's a rhythm you cannot change. I am most creative at night and most aware, this is when I get things done, while the world sleeps. 

 I strum a few notes on my guitar and put my headphones back on and start writing this. The worst part is, I had so much to say, so much to write but as I sit here I can only think of the eyes I keep seeing when I close mine. The eyelashes. The tiny wrinkles emoting such expression. I can think of the troubling nature of my inner dialogue and the conflicting subjects that are on my mind tonight. Darkness and light. I stop writing and focus on Thom Yorkes voice singing "Present Tense" and an explosion of images release into the space behind my eyes. 

 Soon the sun will come up. Soon the cars will fill the street, but until then I will try and close my eyes one more time.