Dylan



Gratuitous biography talk: I was born in Kansas City, which is in Missouri, but my growing up happened in Seattle, Washington. I owe to this town most of who I am right now. That is, an overcaffeinated, slightly awkward, seasonally affected music fiend with a strong internal urge to proclaim my Seattle heritage and also party! And walk around and look at pretty nature! And barely drive ever! See, Seattle is SO COOOOL!!!! BEST EVER!!!! (In my world, ironic enthusiasm is not mutually exclusive with sincerity.)

As a human, I’m all over. I don’t know what defines me more precisely than my need to create shit all of the time. That is another basic; it is why I’m at art school in San Francisco currently. Just makin’ shit on the daily. Around my fellow daily shit makers. Sounds great, huh? My second year of classes starts next week, if I can get my shit together. YAY, making shit and then getting it together!! After five years of precociously declaring myself a graphic designer4lyfe, I kind of had an a-ha moment. It was during this song, actually, while I was watching Battles play at a music festival in Seattle recently.

They just have excellent visuals that apparently are epiphany-inducing (see: melting ice cream)! Highly recommended show. So, that moment led me to change majors from graphic design to something with a more flexible curriculum, more focused on new-media applications. I decided I want to make videos and websites and make them look beautiful, and that’s it, pretty much. I’m trying to get into my school’s new Interaction Design program, so I can make cool shit till the day I die…

By the time this piece is released unto the worldwide world, I will have freshly turned 19 (Leo/Virgo cusp-er in the house), presumably while going through a not-unrelated existential crisis. Getting older is starting to get real. Real-life real. My girlhood seemed to melt at first in slow, glacial chunks, and I feel like turning 19 has just annihilated the last remaining iceberg with the hefty ice pick of age. Whack away, age 19. And now the polar bear of my soul is going to perish due to the climate change of my heart…

Anyway, I’m not an adult by any ridiculous definition, as I’m sure you’ve gathered. But I’m starting to wonder when I’m supposed to be, and feeling like I may have skipped over a few steps, missed out on a few things. I guess it’s probably one of those midway-to-midlife-crises that everyone goes through. (To give myself some credit, even when I turned 10, it was just like, oh my god, two digits! Childhood is slipping away!)

I think the greatest expression of my self is a thought I had once while riding the bus through downtown LA one night. I was trying to decide which part of the day was my favorite. I love the night, I thought, when all the debauchery and fun of the world happens. But late afternoon feels so whole and comforting. And being out before 8 AM is always incredibly huge- and open-feeling. But also, the space between night and the next morning is like this magical purgatory when you feel like you’re the only one alive, but fully alive. I couldn’t decide which part of the day I loved best, and I realized that this must mean I just love all 24 hours, and that by this principle I just seriously love life.

It was a great realization. ♦