Day: 922 Shirt: Hüsker Dü - Eight Miles High (Reproduction) Color: White Brand: Fruit Of the Loom Best Source: earlier this month i had a bunch of screens sitting around..well a bunch of designs that were soon to be screened. i got a bug up my butt and decided to make like literally 10 designs in one day. Keep in mind i don’t have a shop, tools, or anything. i literally have a crate with some ink a squeegee and some shirts. i have a place that is not a screen shop but is kind enough to let me use there rickety set up. its not perfect, its far from it but it does the job on a one or two color shirt.
so rewind back a few weeks when i saw this Husker Du shirt on the internet i was really psyched on it.
It just looked so beautiful and i was already on a Husker Du streak of listening to everything. i had been reading the book "The Band Could Be your Life" and during the Minutemen Chapter they talk about Husker Du all the time and so my interest in the band was peaked.
Book is great FYI, Highly recommend it to anyone who likes this blog, its a very cool oral history of bands like Dinosaur Jr,, Black Flag, Big Black and many more.
So this bug was in my brain to make all this cool stuff, biting off more than i can chew and like a fucktard i tried to print 10 designs in one day most of them two sides and all by myself. it was exhausting and i kept making mistakes and each mistake drove me deeper into a hole. a hole that was making me more frustrated thus making more mistakes. i tuned a ton of shirts and screens. i felt so defeated. what did i decide to bite off more than i can chew. i was ruining the one thing i love doing by over demanding myself on it. it made me crazy. i left and thought to myself i wouldn’t make any more screens anymore. i was so bummed. i don’t know where I’m going this story has no end. it only serves to tell you that this shirt was made, it looks ok i don’t love it. but what is my compulsion for wanting to make it? what am i doing here. what am i even typing this for? thats probably more stupid that the boring story that happened that day.