Monday: Get into your Work and Clothes

Inspired by music video: Chinese Man feat. lots of other folks – Get up.

Alarmclock. For, like, the fifth time. Cause snoozing is an actual lifestyle. You look at the clock: 7 AM. Aaaaaargh. Mondays.

Oh, the pain! You want to get out of bed, you really do, cause working is relatively cool, but … It’s just so difficult, you know? It’s like your soul wants to get up, but your body is just not buying it. These legs just feel like lead. And it’s so warm here, you know? Here in my Oh So Cosy Soft-Skinned Bed. So warm and comfortable and … safe. Unlike the cold, harsh, industrious world out there. But so, whether you like it or not, your body is still in Weekend Mode.

So you know it’s time to pull out the big guns: them fluffy, creepy potheads of Chinese Man. You pick up the remote, point it towards your barely-used retro stereo, and let the music slowly sink in … Get up, get up. Yep. There it goes. You’re starting to feel some movement in the legs.

Get up, get up, you lazy lout. Reminds you of your mom back in high school. “Get up, get up, you lazy lout, get into your work and clothes.” Yes. Let’s do this. Get up, dude. We gotta suit up, then clock in and go to work. And before you know it, you’re out of the bed, using both those feet again. Feeling the cold, hard winter-y floor. You’re up! Yes! You made it! And you pose like that guy from Ratatouille, that useless red-haired kid who sucks at his job, while screaming “Let’s do this thing!“, and you’re off, into the world. Into the big bright beautiful world.

Of course, this doesn’t work on Fridays.


Director: Fred & Annabelle

Brace Yourself: Here Comes the Feeling

Inspired by music video: Until the Ribbon Breaks – Here Comes the Feeling

 

Sitting ducks on razorblades, just waiting to be swallowed by the soup. That’s how deep inner pain feels. Specifically the kind that keeps popping up. Like rejection. And you know exactly how it feels. So you’re mentally preparing to let it drain you. Brace yourself, because… here comes the feeling. Only that, this time, there’s no addiction nor gossip nor any activities to distract you from the feeling. That all too familiar feeling. This time there’s nothing to numb down the pain. No cookies, no social media, no weed. Just the one feeling, which you are forced to feel. It’s the kind of feeling you’d give anything for just to avoid feeling it at all (did someone ask for a ‘workaholic’? Here, pick me).

Imagine a tiny train on a racing track inside of your head, racing at more than 500km per hour, heading straight for your heart. Here comes the feeling – but not the words. Certain feelings, especially if deep, do not need words. They can just be ‘hanging in the air’. Like a deep dark energy, or some kind of malicious ‘vibe’. And you know what the sad part is? … The sad part is that you know this feeling just too darn well! It’s like the repetition of a bad dream. Instead of waking up, like you normally would, this tiny train of thought just goes round and round and round. Again and again. A loop within a loop within a loop.

That is, until the ribbon breaks, and its heavy load is unleashed upon your heart. And your train of thought has finally arrived at the end stop. That is, until the next trigger pops up.


Director of music video: Until the Ribbon Breaks

 

Live – Trixie Whitley & Daniel Lanois, “I’d Rather Go Blind” @Brussels, 2009

I’d rather go blind than be, be this misunderstood. I can sit there on my chair, trying my utmost best to explain myself. How the world relates to me, to all of us, to every little gem around of me. But I can only closely observe it, can’t I? There is really not much I can act upon. And they don’t understand. Understand the meaning of it all. The x number of feelings one can feel, all at once, the x number of things one can think, all at once, no matter your age. Brother knows: I ain’t no wicked child. Whatever I do, I do it out of good intentions – but these never come through. I explain it simply, but my words are only turned into complex pronunciation. Complex thought patterns in someone else’s head. I’m eating dirt all day long. Dirt in the form of small talk. Small talk no one every really listens too. Small talk to fill up your time and your energy. Stupid things people say. Stupid things people do. They’ve got to see it through. And when I finally think ‘yes, I’m finally gonna come through’. I’m doing this. I got this. I’m gonna act. So I act upon myself, day in, day out. I act. And act. And act. I keep on acting what I believe to be correct. Yet, no one understands – and all that’s left is my wicked treachery and how one shouldn’t come too close to me. For if you do, there it will suddenly reveal itself to you: utterly disturbing, deeply disturbing, complexity. But if one could only open up one’s mind. Then thorough understanding might come true.


Director of MV: De Laatste Show

Zornik – Scared of Yourself

 

Think about the lies that we told to each other. All those lies, all those sentences that we tell each other, day in day out. All that stuff of which we never knew it went out of our minds, and into someone else’s. And it remains there. Strange but true. And it’s only seven years later, when you accidentally meet this person again, that you realise: what I said back then, it stuck. And you realise what a fool you were back then, and how you didn’t know what you were saying, and how you didn’t think that one, small sentence would remain stuck in the other person’s head, and you tell yourself that from now on, you’ll never say stuff like that again. But five minutes later you already forgot this promise to yourself, as we always do with important difficult things, and before you know it, you’re back in the same old place, wandering around planet Earth telling people lies that they themselves believe. What a big surprise that you’re scared of yourself, and alone, again. And that voice that was once yours, becomes a tiny voice in their heads, a tiny critic never really going away. It stays. It stucks. And never again are you reminded of the fact that this one person, a person you didn’t wish anything particularly bad, is now living his life judging himself for something stupid you once said. Because, in truth, we are all nothing but a state of mind. From the start, until the End.

 

Director of MV: Peter van Eyndt

 

 

Live – PJ Harvey, “Grow Grow Grow”, Review: On Art, Personal Growth and Vulnerability

 

“Not giving a fuck does not mean being indifferent; it means being comfortable with being different”, at least, that’s what Mark Manson claims in The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck (p. 14). You might not get his point immediately, but watching PJ Harvey’s live performance below will certainly change that. If mainstream art is all about being able to “fit in”, normal art is all about being different and not giving a fuck. Of course, not giving a fuck does not mean that you do not care, or that you are not scared, or that you are without emotion. Rather, it means you may feel all of those things, but won’t let it stop you from doing the right thing. Real art is then, in essence, all about vulnerability. About being able to be vulnerable in front of a large group of strangers, and about having the courage to do just so, even though you might be scared shitless.

Imagine you have to give a live performance about your deepest, darkest, most shameful inner fears in front of a group of artists such as yourself (people who know the vulnerability feeling). Difficult, right? Now, imagine having to do the same thing in front of a group of non-artistic people. People who are, or at least trying hard to be, utterly and completely “normal”. Even worse, right? Like, a fucking nightmare. Because, here you are, being your weird little self in front of those who try hard not to be; in front of X number of people who are all more than capable of pointing out just how weird you exactly are. Not just with your music, but with your clothes, your voice, … your everything.

Lately I’ve been having this suspicion that true art is all about the artist’s courage to “step out of the closet” and be authentically weird or, as a synonym to that, vulnerable. Because true art is all about the courage to be as vulnerable as possible, so that the artist’s vulnerability might serve other people, people they do not know nor care about (“strangers”), in feeling slightly understood. In that sense, one’s own vulnerability serves a greater cause. True art is then, indeed, all about the love of emotional growth. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why it is worth watching this stunning performance of PJ’s “Grow Grow Grow”.


Director: Unknown TV Show

 

K’s Choice – Believe

Tomorrow I was nothing. But today is different. Yesterday I’ll be. But today is different. You know that moment you’re about to switch off your thinking gear? Ah, the Brain. The terrible master when in perfectionist-mode. The inspiring leader when in fuck off-mode. Tell me if it’s me holding on and on to love what else is real (a religion that appeals to me). They always say the home is where the heart is, but the Heart, in the real, biological world, is actually right here. Not at your parents’ place, not in your boyfriend’s arms, not at your best friend’s house. Really, it is right here. There comes a time your brain understands that it’s useless without soul, without spice. Because the brain usually just goes off ranting. On and on. And on and on and on and on. And then, as if by mistake: Can you turn me off? Just a second, please. Ding! One brain request coming in. Turn me into something faceless, weightless, mindless, homeless, back your state of peace … ? Yes, I can, you Motherfucker! You don’t know how much I’ve waited for you to say those words! So you start taking action, right? You get all psyched about it, because, finally, after all your hard, deliberate meditation training, Brain is finally leaving. And when you’re almost there, reaching for the “off”-button, something else suddenly goes: Wait for me, I’m nothing on my own. I’m willing to go on, but not alone, not now. Guess who decided to show up too. Heart. And that, my friends, is what is called an “identity crisis”. But here’s what’s key: I believe in me

Director of MV: K’s Choice