I had been intending to publish a vlog… earlier this month I took part in a VlogOn workshop which was incredible. I find myself waking up in the morning and thinking of video ideas, some days I even start filming but ultimately I don’t post. I don’t know what I’m hoping to achieve with all this raw footage yet. Maybe I’ll just keep it for me, or maybe I’ll work it into something later.

This month has been difficult, which is one of the reasons I don’t feel like sharing much. It’s the month of father’s day, my father’s birthday, and my cousin passed away this week too. I have been thinking a lot about the place I grew up. And I’ve been listening a lot to jennylee.

The sound reminds me so much of my teenage years, even though (obviously) this song wasn’t around then. My final art project at college for graphic design was creating a book cover for an imagined book. The book I imagined was a history of surf music, but I didn’t know much about the genre. I think realistically the book was about the aesthetic relationship between the jangly guitar sound I like and emotions/memories of the coast. It was probably a psychogeographic exploration before I understood what I was trying to communicate.

I recall a time when I was reading a piece on Kristin Hersh where she spoke of going to the beach, I am unsure of the exact wording but I remember something along the lines of warm beer, cold surf as she described her memories. Those words stuck in my mind, and I found myself drawn to water symbolism – particularly around times when I was struggling with my mental health. Music and water formed an alliance in my mind. I started writing essays about how music helped me escape from the feelings I had in my hometown… and then I discovered On the Road to Nirvana by Gina Arnold. The opening (or second) chapter described a gig (I think Hawaii) and the feelings the author had as part of the crowd. It resonated with me.

My memories of the time are getting hazy, and I find that both comforting and sad. Yet the feelings of the time have reappeared. I do not like the person I was, and it’s hard to think of younger me without shame.