My world on the web
Ear candy: I’ve mainly just been listening to New Order’s “Your Silent Face” and my New Division Joy Order playlist on repeat. Very autumnal.
Misheard lyrics, by the way, have a name: Mondegreens. Here’s Maria Konnikova on the science behind them in The New Yorker:
“Mondegreen” means a misheard word or phrase that makes sense in your head, but is, in fact, entirely incorrect… Hearing is a two-step process. First, there is the auditory perception itself: the physics of sound waves making their way through your ear and into the auditory cortex of your brain. And then there is the meaning-making: the part where your brain takes the noise and imbues it with significance. That was a car alarm. That’s a bird. Mondegreens occur when, somewhere between the sound and the meaning, communication breaks down. You hear the same acoustic information as everyone else, but your brain doesn’t interpret it the same way.
With the publication of Yeats (1970), Bloom began to extend his critical theory, and in The Anxiety of Influence (1973) and A Map of Misreading (1975), he systematized one of his most original theories: that poetry results from poets deliberately misreading the works that influence them. Figures of Capable Imagination (1976) and several other works of the next decade develop and illustrate this theme.(source)
What a good artist understands is that nothing comes from nowhere. All creative work builds on what came before. Nothing is completely original.
We however forget about stealing from our past selves.
This is what I like about Song Exploder, where artists break down the birth of an idea.
To be honest, I had a pre-canned newsletter of book recommendations ready for y’all because I’m in the middle of moving studios again, but in this death-filled week, I felt like I wanted to sit down, check in with death, and check in with you
What if you stopped thinking about your ideas as things you need to let out of you, but things you need to let in to you? Things you need to be ready to receive?
The things we think about are deeply influenced by the state of the art around us: the conversations taking place among educated folk, the shared information, tools, and technologies at hand.
“You can’t direct a 4-year-old…” Truer words never spoken! All you can do is set them up and hit record. And hang on for the ride…
Take a (whispered) tour of the most incredible architectural reading spaces across Australia.
On holding onto your curiosity as you age.
John Waters is what I call a Curious Elder — someone who manages to retain their curiosity as they age and stays interested in what young people are up to. The curious elder isn’t interested in judging youth, they’re interested in learning from them.
As a parent and an educator, I think that there is a danger of understanding, rather than “revelling in the mystification”.
I remember when I taught music I would start each weekly lesson with a listening diary where we would reflect upon a different piece of music chosen by a student. It was a fascinating opportunity.
Austin Kleon doesn’t glamorize creative work. It’s hard. (Hence, the “work.”) But the bestselling author has found ways to stay the course in the face of burnout, self-doubt, and yes, even raising children. He shares his wisdom in his new book Keep Going, which comes out tomorrow. Today, he talks to us about how he parents.
This week: tour dates, reading recommendations, and more…
OK, friends. Thanks for reading. Next week I go into full Book Promotion Mode with the new one. If you like this newsletter and want it to keep going, pre-order Keep Going online or at your favorite indie bookstore, and save your receipt because we’re announcing an awesome pre-order gift next week. (The reviews on Goodreads so far are better than good and my 6-year-old was quite pleased by the nice comments about his book trailer.)
Karl Lagerfield died this week, and he said: “Books are a hard-bound drug with no danger of an overdose. I am the happy victim of books.” If books are drugs, then maybe my books are just gateway drugs that lead to better ones. I’m more than okay with that!
Want your kids to read more? Let them see you reading every day.
Want your kids to practice an instrument? Let them see you practicing an instrument.
Want your kids to spend more time outside? Let them see you without your phone.
There’s no guarantee that your kids will copy your modeling, but they’ll get a glimpse of an engaged human.
If you’re interested in songwriting, parenting, or the creative process, I recommend Wilco frontman Jeff Tweedy’s memoir, Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back). I listened to him read it on audiobook, which is rare for me. (I don’t have a commute, I like reading with a pencil, I use words all day so I can’t listen to them, and I usually like taking my walks without headphones in.)
It’s been said a million times — it’s one of the main points of my books Steal Like An Artist and Show Your Work! — and yet, it still seems to be controversial or confusing to young people who are starting out: If you want to be a writer, you have to be a reader first.
As we read we compose, without thinking about it, a kind of running commentary or marginal jotting that adds more words to the words on the page. There is always already writing as the accompaniment to reading.
A recent study showed the median pay for full-time writers is stupidly low, surprising no full-time writer alive.
One afternoon a few years ago when we were bored, I showed my son Owen (now 6) how to make simple tracks on his little iPad mini, and ever since then, he’s been completely obsessed with the program. He spends, on average, at least an hour a day in Garageband. (He would spend way more if we didn’t limit his screen time, and we have to, because if we don’t he gets that weird zombie recording glaze in his eyes. [Musicians will know what I’m talking about.])
Though I didn’t become a professional musician or producer or recording engineer, I like to think that this kind of exercise — studying something you love in depth — is valuable no matter what the field or the genre. The results don’t matter. When you study something so closely, in so much depth, you learn what it is to really pay attention. And paying attention is the art that builds a more meaningful and creative life.
Don’t disappear on us. Don’t cancel your own subscription. Stick around. Keep going. The world is more interesting with you in it.
