Humility or Humiliation

Homeboy Zef is on a bus tour with Goth Rock legend Peter Murphy, playing bass and violin. He had dinner in Seattle last night with two women we were friends (fuck buddies?) with twenty years ago. They’re still close, which Zef pointed out is amazing. They had been huge, ultra-cool-looking and musically informed supporters of Sweet Lizard Illtet, our cumbersomely-named industrial-funk-revolution-change-the-world path to heartbreak and disintegration.

Leading up to and performing solo at Head on the Door bar in Montgomery at the same time as their meeting and Zef’s subsequent performance was a bittersweet juxtaposition. Disappointing people personally and creatively seems to be a constant in the lives of many, if not all artists. And possibly people in general.

Especially when the work is so very personal, as opposed to purpose-based (based on a religion, market, style). How arrogant to not only offer ones self-indulgence up for public display, but to expect it to be praised and rewarded.

It was a slow night in Montgomery last night and $200 dollars today can buy a tank of gas (in a medium sized car), a hotel room and the monthly bill on a souped-up smart phone plan. But sleeping on a very cool stranger’s couch saves enough for about a bag and a half of groceries from the health food store.