Up n Adam - Hugs: Track-By-Track

Hi!

While I was recording the first full-length Up n Adam album, Hugs, during the Summer of 2015, a friend of mine asked me to do a post giving a track-by-track explanation of the meanings or inspiration behind each of the songs. Of course I agreed to it, since I love talking about myself (and the things I make), but I also love when bands I admire do such explanations as well. I couldn’t say no at the chance to do one myself!

Now, if you’re a person who wants songs to speak for themselves and have no interest in the artistic intention behind them (even though these are just silly pop songs after all), then feel free to stop reading now. But for those of you who want to know where the idea for a song about a non-lethal bomb came from, who I’m singing about during which song, or why a grown man wrote anything with the word “noms” in the title, settle in, because here is my track-by-track explanation of my debut album, Hugs.

1. Hug

The intro to the album had actually been written long before I even learned how to play ukulele. When Up n Adam began, I originally envisioned it as an electronics-only project, a la old Hellogoodbye without the real drums or guitars, and no songs over three minutes in length. Just twee as all get out, and all electronic sounds. I absolutely love electronic music and the way it can feel so organic despite being…well, not…and my lyricism has always leaned toward pop music plastic with punky little hooks unashamedly inspired by Relient K. So anyway, this introduction came about when I was playing with the melody for “Hi,” which was the introduction on my first release, the Cartoon Heart EP. I knew I wanted my first album to be called Hugs for years. Like, actual years. The sound clip (from the movie Adam, no less) was there as soon as I recorded this song, and instantly relevant to what I wanted for the full-length. I love how this intro turned out. So much so that I hadn’t changed it since I recorded it three years prior.

2. Love Bomb

This was one of the last songs written for the record. I had gotten really into Weezer’s Pinkerton album (as all musicians do at some point?) at the time, and wanted to write a song that sounded like a Weezer song: a basic chord progression and lyrics about loneliness that weren’t entirely sad. I was also incredibly single at the time and couldn’t help but feel like all of my affection was bottled up, ready to explode all over the next person who so much as tried to hold my hand. Hence, a love bomb. I’m not completely happy with the recording, mostly due to my lack of electronic music resources (that electronic bridge was gonna be soooooo rad) so it honestly feels more like a demo than a finished song, but what’s done is done. I still dig it, and I think it kicks off the album nicely.

3. Dragon Noms

This here is the first Up n Adam song I ever wrote (besides the aforementioned “Hi”) and I still love it so much. I love the beat, I love the sounds, and I love the lyrics (even though the word “noms” is absolutely cringe-worthy most of the time). I’ve always been enamored with the “princess in a tower, saved by a knight” cliché, and even though the concept of a woman needing to be saved by a man is not only outdated but flat-out sexist, I can’t shake how much I love those old stories of the knight fighting a dragon for the heart of a lady. So I wrote a song about it. But the catch here is that the narrator (well, okay, me) isn’t some attractive, strong knight, but rather just a dorky dude who doesn’t want to fight. He’s gonna try to be nice to the dragon and see if he can go introduce himself to the princess, who might not even be trapped! She could just be hanging out up there because she wants to be, or maybe she’s studying to be a doctor or something. But maybe she IS being held there against her will! Here’s something crazy though: I recently realized the song can be read with a feminist interpretation where the dragon is actually the face the girl puts on to protect her real self (the princess in the tower) from the people who want to hurt her, oppress her, or use her. The way to connect with a guarded person is to be unguarded yourself, and be genuine in your intentions without ulterior motives. In this case, the way to connect with someone who has a guard up for protection is to lay down your sword (yay, pacifism!) and simply be real with that person. Because although the lyrics say the narrator adores the girl, it doesn’t technically say his intention is to become romantically involved her. So really it’s up to you if he’s a pansy knight trying to win the heart of a trapped princess (my original intention), or just a normal dude wanting to talk to a lady who (for good reason) is protecting herself from the scummy men of the earth. But anyway, that’s just me reading too much into my own stuff. How self-absorbed can I get? Keep reading to find out!

4. My Type

The idea for this song came from years of people telling me I have a type. You know, a “type” of girl I am attracted to more than other “types” of girls. That type is usually as follows: dark hair, big eyes, kinda short and small with an “cutesy” vibe in fashion and a personality as sweet as sugar. I also got super “into” bangs for a while. Like, think Zooey Deschanel circa 2009 but not nearly as “put together.” She is also “artsy” and likes music and movies, and maybe even makes her own. So this song was going to be about that, but as I wrote it, I realized something that I knew all along: types are a seriously unhealthy way of categorizing people. It ignores the “why” when it comes to these attributes. It takes away the “I do my hair like this because I like it this way” or “I can’t help that my eyes are this big” or “I like the music I like because my personal life can relate to it” and replaces it with selfish objectification. People aren’t meant to be put in boxes, especially people you know personally and intimately. So I revamped the song to make it robotic, like a girl was being made on an assembly line in my head, just for me. To be the girl I wanted, exactly how I wanted, instead of the person she may actually be. Which is just the worst. It’s probably the “darkest” song on the album, but I thought it had important things to say. Plus I love that “BAAAANNNGGGSSSS” harmony part.

5. The Ice Cream Song (Mushy Mush)

In the Winter/Spring of 2013 (I think?), my brother showed me how to play three chords on the ukulele, and I ran with it. I got a uke for my birthday that year, but I borrowed his ukulele for far too long, and played it constantly. I taught myself more chords, and the next thing I knew, I was writing my first original song on the ukulele. This was that song. It’s a grand total of three chords, has a frantic strumming pattern, and is about as easy and poppy as you can get. It’s evolved a bit since I first learned it (there’s a YouTube video floating around of me playing it around that time…) but it remains a staple in the Up n Adam catalog. It’s cute, it’s easy, and it’s catchy. One of my favorite songs I’ve ever written.

6. Summer Smiles

Speaking of favorite songs I’ve ever written, “Summer Smiles” is arguably the best ukulele-driven song on the album. My brother compared it to The Beatles (which is, obviously, impossible…but thank you, Nick) and I knew I had something special. The version on the album is, in my opinion, the best recording of it by far, and I still find myself humming along to it every once in a while.

7. Everything Sucks (Except You)

Okay. I know this is probably the one you want to know the background for the most, and you won’t be disappointed. Or maybe you will. I dunno. Anyway, back in high school, my brother Nick and I were in a band together—an acoustic-punk duo. We released two EP’s, played a few shows, and basically just had an awesome time. It was around this time the idea for a solo project (which eventually became Up n Adam) was born, but I was going to only use my voice because I couldn’t play any instruments besides a little bit of bass guitar, and no one wants to hear a bad singer over a lonely bass guitar. Woof. So one day after school, I went downstairs and threw this song together, thinking it was hilarious. That terrible high school version is long since gone, but I never forgot how it went, and I knew that it would eventually make a comeback. And now, it has a home on my debut album. So what’s a bit of a joke song is actually a little treat to myself for not giving up on the dream of putting out a solo pop record. Disappointed? I hope not!

8. Long Distance Relationships Are Only Romantic on the Outside

Long distance relationships are the worst. We all know this. You like a person, but they live far away, and now you’re stuck in the “wait, I like them but can’t see them?!” limbo for hopefully not an indefinite amount of time. I wrote the lyrics for this song when I was in my second ever Serious Relationship, with a girl who went to the same college as I did, but had to go home for the Summer. It was a bummer, but it wasn’t indefinite. However, when I started writing the lyrics, all of the references and inspiration ended up coming from my first real relationship, which was entirely long distance. Despite both of these relationships ending, the feeling of how long distance relationships are incredibly difficult was still relevant in my long stint of singleness, so much so that I knew I still wanted to write this song and put it on the album. The bridge contains lyrics by Death Cab For Cutie, in case you didn’t know, from their album called Transatlanticism, which, if you haven’t heard it, is one of the greatest albums of music ever created, and you need to go listen to it right this instant if you haven’t yet. Seriously. Spotify or YouTube or buy or whatever it. Now. It also contains a few references to the difficulty of relationship separation, so it seemed all too relevant to add to the song. I’m definitely not the person to ask for encouragement if you’re in a long distance relationship due to my rocky history with them, but I will say this: as long as you’re happy, distance can suck a big, fat one.

9. Romero + Juliet

The living dead have had a weird spike in popularity since 2004’s release of Zack Snyder’s remake of Dawn of the Dead. It was around that time that I dove into horror movies pretty hard, and they still hold a special place in my heart, but during that time, no monster or murderer could hold a candle to the recently revived cannibalistic dead. There’s a pretty great zombie love song called “George Romero Will Be At Our Wedding” by a band called Showbread, as well as a slew of horror songs by another band called Harley Poe, all of which influenced the creation of this song. And it goes without saying that the Grandfather of Ghouls himself, George A. Romero, is the ultimate source of inspiration for this song. (Roam In Peace, George. Thank you.) However, the AMC show The Walking Dead did not influence this song at all, because it’s terrible. Anyway, I like this song and it was fun to do all the moaning parts. I needed to have a little splatter of horror on the album, and this one does just—ah! Look out behind you!!

10. Summer Sendoff

If the majority of the album feels like Summer, this song is the part where that motif wraps up. I wrote this song when I lived in Kalamazoo a few months before I moved to Grand Rapids, and it was inspired by a few friends I had there that I realized I wouldn’t be seeing for a while, so I wanted to see them as much as I could before I left. It’s still a happy song, but there’s a chilly Autumn air of sadness that blows through it and welcomes the coming coziness of Fall’s changes. The talking sounds and such that you hear were secretly recorded at my friends Zach and Colby’s wedding when we were all sitting around the fire talking and having fun. I’m not even sure if they know I put all of this on here…but it’s too late to ask for permission now. Anyway, I really like how this one turned out and sort of calms the album down for the final two tracks.

11. Cartoon Heart

If any song on this album represents what I originally intended for the deeper parts of Up n Adam as a project, it’s this one. Cartoon Heart is entirely electronic, “sprawling” into four-minute territory, with cozy lyrics about unconditional love and acceptance while still being cutesy. I love this song so much. It is, without a doubt, one of the best songs on the record and a staple in my music making catalog so far. This is the one that I hear the most people say “oh, this part makes me cry” or “this part makes me feel so warm,” and those are the best things to hear for this song. This is also where the electronics stop for the album, making it the synth-y climax of the “tronica” part of ukulelectronica. One day, I hope to put out a record entirely made up of songs like this one. Until then, I’ll give this another listen.

12. Hugs

Album closers can be difficult; you have to sum up the entire record in one song, leaving the listener satisfied and yet wanting to come back for another go ‘round. My original intent was a massive, stupid 12-minute beast of a closer about everyone hugging each other in some huge world peace thing. Obviously that’s dumb (as a song, not an idea…because yay for world peace!), so I scrapped it, stripped it down to only ukulele, and made it about a simple hug and four words that can make the biggest difference: everything will be okay.

-

Wow. That was long. Congratulations if you read the whole thing! If you did, let me know and I’ll give you a hug or a high five or something.

And obviously if you haven’t heard or don’t own Hugs, it can be purchased digitally on Bandcamp, or you can get a hand-made CD version of the album if you come to a show! There’s a Deluxe version and a regular ol’ version too! And I have stickers and magnets and posters! Yay!

Here are all of the links for Up n Adam’s online stuff:

Bandcamp: upnadam.bandcamp.com

Facebook: Up n Adam

Twitter: @upnadammusic

Instagram: upnadammusic

Thank you for giving any of this the time of day, the attention of ear, or the openness of heart. It means more than this silly boy with a uke and a keyboard can say.

lovelovelove,

Adam

May 2017: A Car Crash in Three Acts

I am beginning writing this post at 10:30PM on June 5, exactly one month to the minute after a pickup truck ran a red light and crashed into my driver's side door. I've had a full calendar page to dwell on the implications of this incident, but the crash wasn't the only event that left me shaken. This collision incited a month of change so massive that I can safely say my life is entirely different, and it should go without saying (but I'm saying it anyway), that I'm indescribably thankful that I am alive to write this post, that my fingers work to press the keys, that my ears can hear the clicks, that my eyes can see the screen, that my nose can smell the sticky air being blown into my room from outside by a box fan in the window, that I am alive. I am alive.

I am alive.

-
A CAR CRASH IN THREE ACTS

ACT ONE: I Switched My Robot Off

"I switched my robot off,
And I know more,
But retain less,
Retain less,
-tain less,
-tain less,
Less,
Less,
Less,
Less,
Less..."
- Gorillaz, "I Switched My Robot Off" Humanz (2017)

I love Gorillaz. That fictional four-piece is one of my favorite bands, and every single release of theirs has pushed me as an artist, a consumer, and a human being. Humanz is the first new studio album from Gorillaz in seven years, so naturally I purchased the deluxe version as soon as possible. But I wasn't just going to throw it in and listen to it on the drive home from the store. Oh no. When it comes to musicians and art that pushes me to grow, challenges my beliefs, and otherwise changes the way I think about the world, I sit down and give it my full attention. Granted, this album has also been referred to as "a dance club record for the end of the world" so I'm not expecting anything too deep - just plenty of beats and hooks to keep me dancing and singing while the political (and probably real) apocalypse begins.

I'm also in the middle of writing and recording a new Up n Adam EP; it's a fun little slice of Summer that I wanted to record and put out for free before planning a little mini-tour of sorts at different beaches in Michigan. A few of these songs require the sound of waves, preferably without people talking or yelling. In order to get these sounds, I figured I would drive to the beach at night (one of my favorite things to do, year-round) and record some waves. And, hey! I could listen to the new Gorillaz album if I went to a beach that was a solid hour away! (Gotta get the bonus tracks in too, of course.) It was going to be a perfect night, especially after the week I'd had.

At the time, I was working three jobs: Celebration! Cinema Woodland (where I'd been for three and a half years, ever since I moved up to Grand Rapids), ShadowShine Pictures (a production company started by a childhood friend), and Wealthy Street Bakery (my new job, mere blocks from my apartment). It had been a long week, but by some miracle, I had Friday night off. May 5. Cinco de Mayo.

I remember talking with Brittany (my roommate and one of the best friends I've ever had, in case you don't know for some reason?) before I left about whether or not it was safe to make the drive.

A: "I mean, it's Cinco de Mayo. People have been drinking all day. Should I be worried?"
B: "Nah, it's not like you're driving on Halloween or St. Patrick's Day or something."
A: "Yeah, I'll be fine once I get on the highway."

Even still, I remember opening my car door and looking back at my apartment thinking, "I've had a long week...maybe I should just have a night in?" But I looked at the moon and smiled, and then I got in the car and shut the door.

The new Gorillaz album was on my front seat. My clothes were comfortable, just a little too warm to fight the chill of being by the water. I put the CD in (Finally! After long last!) and drove away.
Honestly, it's funny recounting all of this because I had it all figured out. I knew who I was, I knew what I wanted to do with my Summer, I knew what I wanted to do with the next year and a half of my life. I had it figured out. And as I drove down Wealthy Street, through the roundabouts and across Division, I have no shame in admitting that I let out an excited yell. The new Gorillaz album was playing! I was going to the beach at night! I had film projects and music projects and writing projects lined up!

(What's that old joke? "How do you make God laugh? You make a plan.")

As track two ("Ascension") was ramping up, I was about to cross the US-131 overpass on my way to Market Street. I turned up the volume. I was beaming. The bass was throbbing and the lyrics were already being sponged into my brain so I could sing along as soon as possible. "The sky's fallin' baby, drop that ass 'fore it crash! Higher!" I approached the double-stoplight and saw a pickup truck slowing down; he had a red light, so why wouldn't he stop? "The sky's fallin' baby, drop that ass 'fore it crash! Higher!" He still wasn't stopping, but he was slowing down so...why wouldn't he stop? "The sky's fallin' baby, drop that ass 'fore it crash! Higher!" I'm about to go through the light and he's slowing down, but he isn't stopping. Why isn't he stopping? "The sky's fallin' baby, drop th--"

And then he hit me. My driver's side door smashed in, and I slammed my head against the window before it shattered. Then I felt a second impact behind me. I looked at the man driving the truck, and he vacantly stared back with glassy eyes as if he didn't realize I was another person. (I am almost entirely sure he was drunk. He looked at me, directly at me, and didn't see me. Our eyes met, but I could tell he couldn't see me.) He pulled the truck away, next to a city bus that I soon realized was the second impact I felt behind me.

And then I sat there, staring for a few seconds. I turned the music down, off. (Yes, that was the first thing I did.) I stared longer. Then I grabbed my phone and called 911. I got out of the car through the passenger side door, and these two girls who had seen the entire crash were parked in front of me. They got out and told me they had also called 911, and then they asked if I was okay. I just sort of went back and forth from staring at my car to touching my body everywhere that it hurt (which, to my utter shock, weren't many places at all). My head wasn't bleeding. I had all of my limbs and extremities. I was standing. "I think I'm okay. Do I look okay? Am I bleeding?" "Your nose is bleeding." I checked under the nostrils. "No, like, on your nose."

There was a small cut on my nose, a small cut on the back of my left hand (which is now a pink scar made of fresh flesh), and broken glass in my hair where my head hit, but no blood on my head. It was just a bruise. My driver's side door was all but detached from my vehicle, I had been hit by a pickup truck and rear-ended by a city bus, I was covered in shattered glass, and yet...I was alive. How the hell was I alive?

For the sake of length, I'll move a little faster.

The police and ambulance showed up, everyone gave their statements and went their separate ways, and oh yeah, the guy in the truck? He got out of the truck, ditched it, and left the scene. He just walked into downtown. Part of me thinks he was just blackout drunk and didn't realize what had happened, but part of me thinks he was convinced he killed me. Either way, he was gone.

Brittany was picking up Phillip (my other roommate, her boyfriend, and a really REALLY great dude) from work, but they were on their way back to pick me up. I called my mom from the back of a cop car (which is obviously going to be on my "two truths and a lie" roster from now on) and recounted everything to her, which is the last thing a mother wants to hear from her son at like 11:30PM or whenever, but I have the strongest (and best, honestly) mother on the planet. I don't know what I would do without her.

Brittany and Philip showed up, and I loaded up Brittany's car with the 50-60 CDs that were in my backseat, let the tow truck take my car away, and we were on our way back home.

As soon as I was sure I was okay (a question I asked Brittany and Phillip more times than normal, but they were more than happy to reassure me that it was just shock messing with me, making me feel like I had somehow not noticed I had an arm off or something), I went into my room and texted a few of the people closest to me. I told a lot of people I loved them that night, and it wasn't nearly enough. I wanted to tell every single person I had ever had any brief contact with that I loved them dearly.

Since the incident, I've been more aware of existence than ever before. Not just my own existence, but the existence of others. Every single person on this planet, from my family to my friends to the guy who hit me with his truck to people I'll never have an opportunity to meet during my short time here, all of those people exist. They breathe, they eat, they laugh, they cry. Every single person.

I've also gained a renewed belief in, for lack of better words, destiny and fate. For the past few years, I've shed much of what I believed about human beings having the inability to change certain things in their lives. I used to believe that much of life was "predestined" by God to fall into place; we had the ability to make choices, sure, but things were pretty much set. However, as time passed, I came to believe very much in free will, more than ever before. Don't get me wrong, of course I believe that meaning can be found in every event, good or bad (one need only look with an open heart - there are patterns in static). I also believe that we have a limited number of paths we can take in our lives, with an overwhelming amount of choices that lead us down these paths, but we make those choices. For instance, I chose to go to the beach at night and the man who hit me chose to drink until he could no longer operate a vehicle. But here's where the change comes in: all human logic points to the fact that I should have died a month ago. It doesn't make any sense that I would live after something like this, and since there was no "free will choice" in the moment that would have resulted in my avoiding being hit, there must be a reason outside of myself that I am still alive. Not that I was flailing about feeling purposeless or that I thought I was a god in complete control of my entire existence (if you know me at all, you're probably laughing at that). On the contrary, I just wrote a long thing about how I thought I had everything figured out and had plenty of purpose. And I've never considered myself a god (that never ends well for anyone, and frankly it's too much responsibility - no thank you), but rather I've always very much believed in a Higher Power, One who knows and loves all of us, and because of that, also gave us free will to make all of these choices and go down all of these paths. No, the thing I had forgotten, the thing I'll never forget again, was that I am unavoidably, through and through, whether I want it or not, entirely human. I am temporary. I will die one day, and that day was almost May 5, 2017.

I had gotten too comfortable in making my life turn into what I wanted from life that I was missing the experience of life. I was putting off decisions and desires because I was convinced I had time for all of them. Sure, I love listening to music and watching movies and creating things. Sure, I feel things deeply. That didn't change. But the days following the crash, I was noticing things I couldn't believe I had let slip by me. I became thrilled by moments that could easily be seen as mundane: the sound of a car passing, the way hot and cold feels, the way a door pumps when it is locked. And moreso than moments, I'm brimming with energy from, for, and about people; smiles are especially beautiful and contagious, the way bodies move when we walk, what others must be feeling when they touch a counter or lift a mug, the way bodies react to nervousness or excitement, the way necks turn into shoulders, the way coughs and sneezes and gasps and laughter echo in rib cages, the way eye contact feels like one glass pouring into another and vice versa. I am full of new energy. I am full of new life.

I am so grateful to be alive.


Before I showered the shards of glass out of my hair, I called my mom again, who pointed something out:

"Wasn't it May when your car blew up? Five years ago? And you were going to the same beach?"

Yep. Five years ago, almost to the very week, my car spontaneously caught fire and exploded on the way to South Haven at 10:30PM. You've heard the story, I'm sure. (And if you haven't, I'll be happy to tell it again.) We laughed about it, and it felt good to laugh.

Needless to say, I won't be leaving the house for the entirety of May 2022.

-

ACT TWO: Fade Out, Roll Credits, Cue Lights

(These next two acts will be significantly shorter in length and lighter in subject matter. But they must be written, as they too are massive changes worth noting.)

I worked for Celebration! Cinema for six and a half years.

In my time there, I saw roughly 300 movies for free (the employee ID tracks them, but before we got the ID, I had a few months of going when it was recorded on paper), I got thousands of dollars worth of popcorn, candy, and soda for hundreds of dollars, and I ate over one thousand soft pretzels. I know. That's too many pretzels. Good lord. How am I still skinny? I have no idea.

I also met countless people on various tracks in life, either getting a job because their parents bugged them to do so, or just trying to scrape by and pay bills any way they could. I was in the latter camp, but there was something bigger afoot: I got to be around movies ALL THE TIME and get paid for it. For years, it was the dream! I lived and breathed cinema. I mean, I still do, but working at a theater was the rich soil needed for my greedy little movie-loving roots to spread and grip and grow. I could see scenes out of context, I could memorize and critique dialogue, I could see movies I loved five times in a week if I wanted to! It was great. My time working at movie theaters (I also worked at one in Sturgis during high school for like three years too) has shaped who I am as a person in a big way, and I'll never forget it, but not only because of the atmosphere; it was also the people.

Now, I've already written a big ol' post for the people at Woodland, so I won't type all of that out again here, but rather the point of including this is to accent the gravity of my departure. My last day at Celebration! Cinema was May 21, 2017. My first day was September 10, 2010. You don't just invest almost seven years of your life somewhere and not feel it when you leave.

This change was a long time coming. This change was something I had wanted for years, and yet never felt like it was the right time. See, there's only so long someone can work late-night hours and stressful shifts for entirely too little pay in comparison to the workload. But at the same time, there was a culture and family at these places that meant more to me than a paycheck. And that's why I stayed as long as I did. And that's what I'll miss the most.

I had a last hurrah with some coworkers after my final shift. I'd spent years wondering what my going-away party would look like, and I was not disappointed. But it was different than I could have ever guessed, and I was so happy. This change, this was one that felt like a step forward. I was ready to move on, and people were cheering me as I left the nest. Sure, my departure was expedited because of my lack of vehicle, but it couldn't have been a more right time.

If this were a movie, this would be right as everything seems to be getting better for our protagonist. He's grown from pain. He's learned to be more honest and take risks. Things are looking up for this fella. You know, right before something unexpected and devastating happens out of nowhere.

Guess what's about to happen out of nowhere? Yep. Something unexpected and devastating.

-

ACT THREE: Suddenly, Everything Has Changed

"Putting all the vegetables away,
That you bought at the grocery store today,
And it goes fast, you think of the past...
...suddenly, everything has changed."
- The Postal Service, "Suddenly Everything Has Changed (The Flaming Lips cover)"

Some changes happen when you least expect them, faster than you could keep your eyes on, and harder hitting than you could ever prepare for; sometimes they happen before you even notice them.

I quit working for ShadowShine Pictures on May 30, 2017.

This was a decision that was not made flippantly, and yet it happened so quickly I could hardly believe it myself. I'm still having a hard time believing it. But I'm not having a hard time questioning whether or not it was the right thing to do.

I won't divulge details due to the sensitive nature of, well, all of it.

Suffice it to say, this was something that needed to happen. From this end, new beginnings will spark to life. Healthy beginnings. Honest beginnings. This will take time, and even though much of this post has an air of "life is short! TIME IS TICKING GO GO GO" there is something to be said for letting time take its time.

There you have it: the third and final act in the car crash that was May 2017. And just like that, suddenly, everything has changed.

"Putting all the clothes you washed away,
As you're folding up the shirts, you hesitate,
Then it goes fast, think of the past...
...suddenly, everything has changed."

-

EPILOGUE: Strange Interpretation

So here we are: no more car, only one job, and a re-found sense of destiny and a renewed appreciation for breathing. It's been a hard month, one of the hardest I've ever faced. Though this time, it wasn't because of school or relationships or anxiety; it was change.

One month ago, I had three jobs, a car, and plans enough to sink a calendar ship. (I've just received word: calendar ships don't exist.)

Now, I have one job, no car, and dreams.

Dreams are different than plans, I think. Plans are concrete and controlled. Plans are rigid and stiff. Plans can change, but not without bent plastic and splintered wood (you can even hear it crack; listen, next time!). But dreams...well, dreams are plans you don't force into a box. When people say "follow your dreams," they're usually whimsically coating something like "create a future you want, one that has value and worth in society" and in this particular society, this country, this world as a whole, that also means "make money, get married, and be successful...even if it means you step on other people to get there." And I'm not about that. Money, possessions, perceived success - it all amounts to nothing in the end. I think "follow your dreams" is a little more fluid and a lot more optimistic than that. You still need plans to get to your dreams, but don't let your plans keep you from your dreams. For instance, I'm still planning on that beach tour. I'm planning on releasing my EP. I have plans to get these plans completed in the timeframe in which I want them completed. But these plans are means to the dreamy ends.

Don't set up so many hoops for yourself to jump through that you forget what's on the other side of the hoops. These changes that I made, some more voluntary than others, were the removal of the hoops. And now, instead of hoops, I'm choosing to lay stepping stones. Plans, still, but plans that are the next step, only, instead of an obstacle. I have ideas for books, screenplays, albums, you name it; taking the time to create these things are no longer hoops or obstacles, they're the journey to get to the dream. In fact, in many ways, the journey of creating is the dream.

It all may seem like the same thing, but it's not the same thing at all.

I may seem like the same person, but I'm not the same person at all.

-

I'll let this curtain close with lyrics from my favorite band, who recently released their final EP from beyond the grave (I can't believe they've been broken up this long already) at the most perfect time they could have chosen to release it.

Thank you all for reading this. I love you. Truly.

-

"You can open every doorway,
And never leave the room,
You can curate every fantasy,
And never see what's true.

But you already know that,
There's nothing left to prove.

So take its worth and weigh it,
It all amounts to nothing in the end.

There's a picture of a picture,
On every single screen,
On purpose, accidentally,
On the wall of the museum,

But you don't need me to tell you
That it doesn't mean a thing,

So take its worth an weigh it,
It all amounts to nothing in the end.

It's a strange interpretation,
All colorful and bright,
A forced perspective portrait
Of manipulated light.

But you already heard that,
It's all a waste of time.
Yeah, you already know that,
It's heavy on your mind.
No, I don't need to tell you
What's weighing on the line,
Because you already know that.

Now the only thing worth being
Is impossible to be,
Yeah, the only dream worth dreaming now
Is a new reality.

And I hate to disappoint you,
But I wouldn't count on me.

So take it all and make it
Into something worth it in the end."
- the Soil & the Sun, "Strange Interpretation" from Actual Replica Vol. II (2017)

--

lovelovelove,

Adam

A Patient of Patience: Reflections on 2016

It’s been a long year. Everyone knows it; we’ve resorted to personifying the abstract time period of twelve months just so we have something to blame for the difficulties both personal and public, and everything from celebrity deaths (the first of which, David Bowie, will continue to weigh on me for the rest of my life) to our verging on apocalyptic political situations. One thing remains constant, though, and it’s the unwavering fact that time takes its time.

When the clock hit midnight last year on New Year’s Eve, I was surrounded by friends with whom I had spent the previous year creating films, seeing films, and eating plenty of tacos every Tuesday. It was a different sort of New Year for me. I remember sitting on my friend’s bench in his living room (before he got an incredible new couch only a few weeks ago from when I’m writing this) and thinking to myself that the change from 2015 to 2016 felt less like the fresh start I had always associated with this “made up” holiday (yes, I know calendars are human constructs, but let us have some fun, sheesh!) and more like a rest, like sitting on a bench after a walk, recouping before continuing along the same path. It was new to me. I had written and starred in my first real short film (along with close to 100 other people, of course), recorded my first full-length electropop record in my bedroom, was in a romantic relationship where I actually felt loved instead of simply admired, was living in the same downtown apartment I had moved into the year before with the same one best friend I had been living with since I graduated college, grew closer to an ever-growing group of friends, and I felt optimistic in virtually every aspect of my life. I had it together. The world was mine for the taking as soon as my short film blew up the festival circuit and I was getting offers to write blockbuster smashes with million-dollar budgets. (Note: I never actually thought I would end up writing said movies…but you get what I was feeling, yeah? Hyperbole, yes? Okay.) And then, I heard something in myself say, “This year will be about patience. Lean not on your own understanding.” This isn’t out of the ordinary for me, and I’ve learned to listen to said voice, as it has never lead me astray, so I knew that I should probably pay attention to this. These words stayed with me, even though I had no idea what they meant at the time.

This past year has been, for all its peaks and valleys, for all its beginnings and endings, relatively static in some senses, though hissing and overwhelming in others. The short film screeched to a grinding halt when we ran out of money to finish it (though it will be finished, I assure you) and I’m reminded of this fact when the people in my life, though kind and eagerly interested, ask me, “So hey, when do I get to see Garden Party?” which is by no means an annoyance, but a reminder that the thing that had governed my entire life for months was now an afterthought, something for which I had (and still have) to wait to see completion. It’s out of my hands, really, and no one is more eager to see a final cut than me (and, you know, everyone else who worked on it). When my album came out in August of 2015, I was just excited to have finally written and recorded a full-length pop record, which was a dream of mine. I had plans to play shows, release hand-made physical copies of it, and make a music video or two, all in 2016. Well, I didn’t play any shows (though I’m planning my own mini-tour for Summer 2017), still haven’t released the physical copies (they are sitting in front of me as I type this, and they are so close to release I can almost taste it), and did in fact make a music video (yay!) which turned out wonderfully and is one of my favorite creative accomplishments of 2016, despite being filmed and edited in one afternoon with a budget of like five dollars for Post-It notes, which frankly makes it even better in my opinion. The romantic relationship I mentioned did end, which of course brings its own set of feelings that could fill another blog post entirely (but won’t because it’s not exactly something I want to discuss publicly), which is part of where that whole “lean not on your own understanding” thing came into the story, both providing solace and sting. I gained another roommate, which spawned an anxiety I hadn’t felt before (What if he grows to resent me? What if they decide they want to not live with me? What if I can’t find anywhere to live and I have to move back in with my mom, fulfilling the stereotype of “millennials can’t support themselves” because my current job can’t pay me enough to live on my own even when I work 50 hours a week? …I’m a dramatic fella sometimes), and I’m happy to say said anxiety dissipated immediately, as the addition of this new roommate has been nothing but positive, and I can’t believe I was worried for even a moment (even though human beings are naturally worried about things they have not yet experienced, but anyway) – this is one of my favorite things about 2016, truly. Speaking of a new roommate, this also brought about a new apartment! It’s huge, it’s quirky, and it’s my favorite living space I have ever had in my entire adult life. My bedroom is the stuff of dreams: I have a writing nook, a television by my bed with a Sega Genesis hooked up, and it is located in a tucked away room in the apartment so when I want to not be in the way, I’m not in the way. It’s perfect, but it took patience and leaning not on my own understanding. Apartment hunting is not fun, but the right place comes along when one is patient and perseveres (and totally gets lucky), even though the rent is higher. This year also required patience, and no small amount of faith, when one of my best friends and I needed to take time apart, to grow separately before we came back together. Without divulging too much personal detail (of which there is an abundance), I can say with certainty and relief that said friend and I are better than we ever have been, and I am utterly grateful that this friendship could be salvaged and saved. As far as my personal creative endeavors (of which, I’m learning, there are many – always), I didn’t complete any feature-length screenplays or novels this year, but I did write some new poetry for the first time in a long time, and started a multitude of new scripts, fiction, and other such things. I look forward to watching these newly planted seeds grow. And lastly, though selfishly I say “most importantly,” I learned to be patient with myself this year. I am still learning this, daily and actively. I’ve never been one to allow myself time to breathe; it’s always been out of desperation that I rest, running full-tilt until I burn myself out and am forced to recover, only to sprint again the moment I have a shred of replenished energy. This year taught me, more than any other year, that tending to one’s weariness, whether from wounds or basic exhaustion, is vital. I now have a number of ways to rest, to allow myself solace and solitude from a world that never stops moving, running, buzzing, photographing, documenting, promoting, liking, favoriting, tweeting, following, screaming, debating, laughing, singing, joking, searching, and existing at the highest possible volume and output. Instead of allowing myself to be consumed by this rapid and constant existence, I’ve learned to focus on one thing and enjoy it, not to gain any sort of social advancement or knowledge of plot before someone spoils it, not to be able to discuss it with someone when I next see them, not to prove I’m the bigger fan, not because someone said “dude, you gotta hear this record/watch this show/read this book,” but because I want to enjoy it, taste it, hear it, smell it, see it, soak myself in it, experience it, wholly and entirely. I have interests again outside the realm of self-promotion that I feel no desire to share with the social media masses, and they will stay that way – they will stay my own. I enjoy things and sometimes don’t feel the need to tweet about them (but it’s okay when I do, and knowing that is important as well). I’ve learned to be patient with myself, because the only way any of us can exist is one moment at a time. Moments can be home, so live in them. Yes, I want to move to a bigger city and take on bigger things, meet more people and see more places, drink more beer and eat more weird local cuisine – but to wish for something other than where you are, when you know you can’t or shouldn’t leave where you are, is only cheapening the life you are living. Find and create a home within yourself and live in it so every moment can be a home, or when it’s not a home, it’s an exhilarating journey into the unknown instead of just another “less-than” experience that you might document later if you can find the right filter. Find things that make you happy to take slowly and take them slowly, even if it’s the new Pokémon game or rewatching a favorite television show or film series you’ve seen countless times already, reading a book over the course of months instead of a week because every chapter should be savored, buying an album you haven’t heard and listening to it until you know it enough to decide if you like it or not (don’t skip a single song), or tasting every drop of a new beer and leaving the flavor on your tongue, or let every bite of your favorite ice cream melt in your mouth. Lick the bowl clean. Allow yourself to breathe, feel yourself grow, grant yourself grace and space to change, and enjoy the seasons when you don’t grow or change. Enjoy your own company. Take your time. Patience. Lean not on your own understanding. Patience.

This past year I’ve been playing a game for the Nintendo 3DS called The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask. It’s a game I grew up playing, and when they rereleased it for the 3DS, I knew I had to play it again. The basic premise is: you are Link, the Hero of Time, who has just saved the Kingdom of Hyrule from destruction, but afterward, your fairy companion departs and you’re left to wander in search of her. While riding through a forest, you are attacked by a mischievous creature called Skull Kid, who has two fairies - one black and one white, wearing a terrifying and powerful mask. Eventually you fall into a dark pit and wake up in Termina, a land which has three days until the Moon falls from the sky and destroys everything. You are given the task to awaken four Guardian Beings, collect many strange masks, and stop Skull Kid before the world ends. You have three days to do this. Luckily, you have an instrument, The Ocarina of Time, that can send you back to the first day (though you lose many of your insignificant items) to start the process again. There are temples to solve in order to summon the aforementioned Guardians, plenty of lands to explore, and countless people to meet who have no idea that you are going through the same three days over and over as you help them with the problems in their daily life. This game requires patience, planning, and the ability to enjoy the same events many times while also tweaking habits and patterns to trigger other events.

Even though I could write an essay about this game as an allegory for dealing with grief and depression, living the same three days over and over while everyone you meet is unaware, wearing different masks in order to make it through the day, I’ll save that for another time. The reason I bring this up (besides looking at my life as if it’s a story…because it is, and I’m a sucker for metaphor and allegory in reality) is because of something I read recently on Tumblr that put this year into perspective for me: “Those who wait upon the Lord will find new strength. – Isiah 40:31” with the caption, “Even in the fruitless seasons, God is working in you as you wait and depend on Him. Your roots are growing deeper and your branches stronger in preparation for fruit in the next season.” This year felt fruitless. I know that sounds blunt, and after writing this post, I’m realizing it was not without its beauty and progress, without its fruit, but this year felt like a fruitless season oftentimes, waiting for something that seems as though it may never come, and being told to continue waiting, fruitless or otherwise. It was a long year. It was a hard year. It was a good year.

In Majora’s Mask, it’s only after you collect all of the masks through completing tasks and quests, conquer each temple to summon each Guardian, and wait three days until the Moon gets close enough for you to climb onto it, complete a final set of challenges, and face Skull Kid and his Mask once and for all that you can break the cycle of the repetitious three days. To try to climb onto the Moon before you’re ready will only lead to the destruction of Termina and the death of everyone. It takes patience. It doesn’t make sense, but you do it anyway. And only when you’ve been patient and worked hard, and have been patient even more, can your Quest reach its climax and conclusion, and you can finally greet the Dawn of a Fourth Day, a New Day.

I don’t know what the New Day of January 1, 2017 and the many days after which will hold. I don’t know if it will bear fruit or uproot me to be planted in a new field. I don’t know if I’ll see the end of it (though I hope I do, of course), and I don’t know how I will have changed by the time of its (yes, we get it, calendars are made up and time keeps going independently of human constructs – stop ruining fun) conclusion. Perhaps it will be another year of patience and leaning not on my own understanding. Perhaps it will be a year of action. Perhaps it will be a year of change. Perhaps it will be a year of tending to that which is already planted, with a small harvest or none, and perhaps it will be the best year of my life (until the next “best year of my life” arrives) with action and change and travel and experience of which I cannot begin to predict but will burst and overflow with life. Maybe I’ll cut my hair. Maybe I won’t cut my hair. I don’t know, but not knowing isn’t a problem – lean not on your own understanding and be patient. Growth will happen where you may not realize it, and strength and experience will come through seemingly meaningless repetition. Change may happen over months or in an instant. Time will continue to take its time, and I plan to live in every single moment I am given.

And now I can finally finish playing Majora’s Mask and welcome the Dawn of a New Day.

Happy New Year. Here’s to 2017.

lovelovelove,

Adam