“My creative writing professor told me to stop writing about love. I asked him why and he said “because you have turned it over and over in your hands, felt every angle, every fault, every inch, every bruise. You have ruined it for yourself.”I spent the next 3 weeks writing about science and space. Stars exploding. Getting sucked into a black hole. How much I wished I could sleep inside of that nothingness without being annihilated. What an exploding star would taste like. If it would make our stomachs glow like fireflies, or tingle and shake like pop rocks under our tongue. My creative writing professor told me that those poems weren’t what he was looking for. He tells me to stop writing about outer space. Stop writing about science. Again, I ask him why. Again , he says “You have ruined it for yourself.” I spend the next three weeks writing about my mother, how we are told we can’t make homes inside of other human beings, but the foreclosure sign on my mother’s empty womb tells me that women who give birth know a different, more painful truth. My creative writing professor tells me I am both talented and hopeless, that everything I write is both visceral and empty, a walking circus with no animals inside but a beautiful trapeze artist with a broken hip selling popcorn in the entrance-way. He tells me to stop writing about my mother. I don’t ask why. I pick up my books and my notepad and I leave his office with my war stories tucked under my tongue like an exploding star, like the taste of the last person I ever loved, like my mother’s baby thermometer, and I do not look back. We are all writing about our mothers, our lovers, the empty space that we will never be able to breathe in. We are all carrying stones in our pockets and tossing them back and forth in our hands, trying to explain the heaviness and we will never stop writing about love, about black holes, about how quiet it must have been inside the chaos of my mother’s belly, inside the chaos of his arms, inside the chaos of the spaces in every poem I have ever written. None of this is ruined. Do not listen to them when they tell you that it is.”

— my creative writng professor told me to stop writing about love | Caitlyn Siehl


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内田善美 (Yoshimi Uchida)

Welly well, everyone. The music video for JSG’s newest song “Tourniquet” is almost here. There will be two versions of the video, for your viewing pleasure. Alpha Version and Omega Version. Both of which will be coming your way very soon, so please be patient, dear Gypsetters. In the meantime, enjoy a sneak peek at what’s to come, as well, here are a few little factoids for ya:* JSG made history by being the first band that the Warner theatre had allowed to film a music video. Many well known bands were turned down previously. * Prince V’s costume weighed 25lbs. * The band drove 24 hours straight to get to their destination, Erie, PA. * The filming lasted 2 days, 12 hours each day. * V and Richter were asked to sing, NOT LIP SYNC, by the director in order to have a more emotionally theatrical overall effect. * The second day was filmed at the Riverside Inn which is supposedly very haunted. That day, numerous strange things happened that the band actually witnessed themselves.
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