MUSICIAN. ARTIST. GARDENER.
AUG 2022 JOURNAL.jpg

JOURNAL

MICHAEL MUSIKA'S CHRONOLOGICAL DOCUMENTATION OF CREATION THROUGH WRITING, PHOTOGRAPHY, AND PERFORMANCE ON VIDEO.

FEB 26, 2018 // A SOCIOPATH AND HIS SISTER

BEND, OREGON

The show last night was good.  I practiced a lot in the month leading up to it using a metronome.  I played songs from the records Eric and I recorded in the fall in Michigan, some old songs, and a cover of FPODBPOD's "I'm the Only One I Know."  Sean played really well too, and it was good to see him.

A musician from LA who was hiding out in Oregon came to the show. He bought me a drink in a dive bar across the street afterwards and told me a long story about how the record company had ruined his band and how the music industry was sick. He wasn't terribly interested in anything I had to say so I mostly just listened. He left to go get greasy food after a while. I stayed and talked to the bar tender while a snowboarding competition from the winter olympics was on the televisions. 

The bar tender was  sweet.  I asked her out as I was leaving.  She told me she was flattered and  had a boyfriend.  It was very cold and snowing outside. I scraped the icey snow off all the windows of the car and put on "Watch the Throne" by Kanye West and Jay Z while the engine warmed up.  I drove slowly home through the glowing white of the empty, quiet town while Kanye and Jay Z rapped about how successful they are.  

The next morning I was tired, drained and sad.  I read a long form article about Axl Rose and what it was like to grow up in a backwards small town in Indiana.  It reminded me a lot of growing up in Maryland.  I saw Todd in the garage smoking a cigarette and he told me I didn't have to do anything today. I told him I should do something and drove to a trailhead in the national forest . My sister called when I got out of the car and I talked to her on the phone while I walked through the snowy forest.  I told her I had determined I'm probably a sociopath.  She told me about a story she was writing where the protagonist mistakenly thinks she's murdered her landlord. 

We hung up when I reached the river, and I walked back to the car in silence.  The late afternoon sun shined through the pine trees.  I was hungry and tired, but I felt a lot better for having gone into the woods. 

Michael Musika