Japanese Breakfast

I’m watching Japanese Breakfast bring a gong on the SNL stage. What a power move. I’ve been playing Mr. Morale every time I’ve been in the car this week by myself, knowing it’ll take many more spins to unpack everything Kendrick lays out.

I’m reminded of Crying in H Mart and To Pimp a Butterfly and many other favorites. I’m reminded that saying something raw and real as an artist asks for vulnerability- never an easy request.

Cultural clashes have turned so many good artists calloused. It’s replaced vulnerability with viciousness. But I think that’s made real sincerity all the more refreshing when you do see it.

I’m trying to inject more of that into the stuff I create. I simultaneously believe in telling stories from your scars- not your wounds. In other words, some boundaries in between what you experience and how you reflect that in what you create is healthy. But I think it’s easy for me to get too calculated too, which doesn’t give enough breathing room for the whole messy complexity of life sometimes.