I’m somewhat masochistic when it comes to art.

I like the stuff that makes you dig, the stuff that feels like a slap in the face when you first behold it, then becomes ethereal once you immerse yourself. Give me Animal Collective’s deceptively gross looking Strawberry Jam, or James Joyce’s eternally elusive Finnegan’s Wake (bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnb ronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhouna wnskawntoohoohoordenenthurnuk!), give me Egon Schiele, or any video game that makes me want to hurl the controller across the room in frustration (Ikaruga comes to mind).  I crave these kinds of experiences for two reasons.  First, is the time old idea that nothing worth doing is easy.  And second, I think there’s poison in the instantly likable.

Why am I talking about this now? I think there are traces of the same type of masochism in moving to a new country.  You are hurling yourself out of comfort.  There’s a haunting similarity between my hours of slaving away in front of a computer screen, trying to decipher the otherworldly symbols of Myst, and my hours of slaving away in front of a train schedule, trying to translate the schedule written in Kanji.

Somehow, even when I’m lost and pantsless, I relish every moment of it.

-Christian

Nerd Note: I know we spelled the Dragon Ball Z exclamation incorrectly.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, July 1st, 2008 at 12:00 am and is filed under All Comics, Incompletes. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.