well like i said, it's something... i just needed to do a painting. so i did. sadly, my brain made a direct jump to phil hale, who, while awesome, is not me. regardless, this is the image i am working on, so far two hours in the making. it's gonna be link. and hopefully it will be more me and less hale soon. meh.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Something
well like i said, it's something... i just needed to do a painting. so i did. sadly, my brain made a direct jump to phil hale, who, while awesome, is not me. regardless, this is the image i am working on, so far two hours in the making. it's gonna be link. and hopefully it will be more me and less hale soon. meh.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Something
It is a blessing and a curse to have lots of ideas. It feels wrong to say something cliche when you are trying to express originality... meh. This is, however, true.
I feel pulled in three directions at once, always thinking of something new and exciting while in the middle of another project. This causes me to get bored halfway through all of my work. Unless I finish that work really, really fast. Which I don't, these days.
Poems, stories, drawings, paintings, some days I feel so full of it all that I don't do anything at all. Those days I really feel like I'm full of "it." So after weeks of doing nothing (except work on the whole car fiasco that will define my 22nd year), I declare the beginning of...! Something. Maybe narrated illustration animations, storyboard style. Maybe illustrated poems (don't even say the name Shel Silverstien). It really doesn't matter. What does matter is that I do something.
And so I am telling you. All of you who may have actually stopped reading, what with my lack of postings. I am telling you because if I tell no one then I will let myself down. Tomorrow, I will present to you the beginning of Something. And it will be grand. Or at the very least, much more grand than the more recent of my posts. Which have been understandably ungrand.
Post angrily if I don't. Because if you let me by this time, I'll just act out more. You know how children are.
I feel pulled in three directions at once, always thinking of something new and exciting while in the middle of another project. This causes me to get bored halfway through all of my work. Unless I finish that work really, really fast. Which I don't, these days.
Poems, stories, drawings, paintings, some days I feel so full of it all that I don't do anything at all. Those days I really feel like I'm full of "it." So after weeks of doing nothing (except work on the whole car fiasco that will define my 22nd year), I declare the beginning of...! Something. Maybe narrated illustration animations, storyboard style. Maybe illustrated poems (don't even say the name Shel Silverstien). It really doesn't matter. What does matter is that I do something.
And so I am telling you. All of you who may have actually stopped reading, what with my lack of postings. I am telling you because if I tell no one then I will let myself down. Tomorrow, I will present to you the beginning of Something. And it will be grand. Or at the very least, much more grand than the more recent of my posts. Which have been understandably ungrand.
Post angrily if I don't. Because if you let me by this time, I'll just act out more. You know how children are.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Trial and tribulation
I don't have problems. Me saying I have problems is like saying I'm going hungry when my belly growls. Plenty more people have it plenty worse than I. But to say that I've enrolled in the school of hard knocks, and my recent grades were shiny "D's" for dumbass, that might just be accurate.
I hit a guardrail going 45 mpg. This is not some fuzzy metaphor, I just did it. I didn't do it on purpose, mind you. That is, butterfly effect style, why I feel so whittled now. Like a sad little block of wood that was going to be a pipe or something cool if the carver had stopped earlier. That was a metaphor; I am not a block of wood, whittled or otherwise.
So now every once in a while I look around and am tempted to think, damn, this is rough. But I have an apartment and food, sometimes a car, and all the minimum luxuries afforded the entertainment-run American regular. I even have a job, for what it's worth. I work at Jo-annes.
Yes I wear an apron at work, and yes I work with a majority older generation. But I am in the framing department, dammit. Plus, I'm super popular with the more experienced denizens (see that euphemism? not hard to see why, is it?), I got called a tall glass of water by an eighty-year old woman the other day.
I don't have much money, I have even less idea of where my future lies, and I can't imagine the steps I need to take to get to my dreams. Other than sleep. Which I do. Which is one up on some. Did you hear my stomach that time? If you'll excuse me, I've got to go take my lumps.
I hit a guardrail going 45 mpg. This is not some fuzzy metaphor, I just did it. I didn't do it on purpose, mind you. That is, butterfly effect style, why I feel so whittled now. Like a sad little block of wood that was going to be a pipe or something cool if the carver had stopped earlier. That was a metaphor; I am not a block of wood, whittled or otherwise.
So now every once in a while I look around and am tempted to think, damn, this is rough. But I have an apartment and food, sometimes a car, and all the minimum luxuries afforded the entertainment-run American regular. I even have a job, for what it's worth. I work at Jo-annes.
Yes I wear an apron at work, and yes I work with a majority older generation. But I am in the framing department, dammit. Plus, I'm super popular with the more experienced denizens (see that euphemism? not hard to see why, is it?), I got called a tall glass of water by an eighty-year old woman the other day.
I don't have much money, I have even less idea of where my future lies, and I can't imagine the steps I need to take to get to my dreams. Other than sleep. Which I do. Which is one up on some. Did you hear my stomach that time? If you'll excuse me, I've got to go take my lumps.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Earthquake
The ground turned to water
Pulsing, heaving inward.
The buildings fell like
Great glass giants
Their steel bones screaming
What was a city became
A dryer. Everything tumbling
The solid earth is something
We all take for granted.
It began as two opinions
coming together angrily
Their argument grew
Mountains. And destroyed
Futures. I am a plate tectonic.
And it is all my fault.
Pulsing, heaving inward.
The buildings fell like
Great glass giants
Their steel bones screaming
What was a city became
A dryer. Everything tumbling
The solid earth is something
We all take for granted.
It began as two opinions
coming together angrily
Their argument grew
Mountains. And destroyed
Futures. I am a plate tectonic.
And it is all my fault.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Arg! Ickblat! Mmmph! Angry noises!!!
More recently I have been dealing with the saga that is my crashed car. Two weeks ago, I smashed my car up but good on the ramp to 270. Outside of my crashing, everything else went wonderfully. The cop was awesome and didn't give me a ticket, I didn't get hurt at all, and the towing guy tried his best not to screw me over.
Since then I have been riding buses, bumming rides, and riding bums to get where I need to go. All was well in the world of carlessness, and I had my poor beat up vehicle resting in the parking lot of my apartment complex. A mysterious green patch appeared on my car then: dated 10/16/09, it gave me ten days to get my car the eff out of there. Then things went awry.
This morning, 10/20/09, I woke up with a list and a smile. First I'll drop off mail and cash my check, thought I, and then I'll do artwork or some semblance thereof! Upon stepping into the beautiful fall day that it certainly is today, I noticed my car was missing. Apparently, Essington Village doesn't give ten day notices, they just put stickers for 24 hour notices that say 10 days on them.
Awesome.
Since then I have been riding buses, bumming rides, and riding bums to get where I need to go. All was well in the world of carlessness, and I had my poor beat up vehicle resting in the parking lot of my apartment complex. A mysterious green patch appeared on my car then: dated 10/16/09, it gave me ten days to get my car the eff out of there. Then things went awry.
This morning, 10/20/09, I woke up with a list and a smile. First I'll drop off mail and cash my check, thought I, and then I'll do artwork or some semblance thereof! Upon stepping into the beautiful fall day that it certainly is today, I noticed my car was missing. Apparently, Essington Village doesn't give ten day notices, they just put stickers for 24 hour notices that say 10 days on them.
Awesome.
Monday, October 19, 2009
False start
Begin.
Shouting at the page, the canvas, the tempered hope.
Begin.
If only to take that first step, slay the white fear of nothing
A nothingness that would have always never been without that
First mark, because after that everything falls into place.
Mostly.
Mindtheft is a victimless crime unless promising futures have value
Mostly
They do, but how do you rate that? Would that I knew
Mostly.
Shouting at the page, the canvas, the tempered hope.
Begin.
If only to take that first step, slay the white fear of nothing
A nothingness that would have always never been without that
First mark, because after that everything falls into place.
Mostly.
Mindtheft is a victimless crime unless promising futures have value
Mostly
They do, but how do you rate that? Would that I knew
Mostly.
Monday, September 28, 2009
The art my hero produces.
Unless you know me personally, you probably don't know how close I am to my family. My family is the reason I do what I do. Why I am humorous, why I am expressly positive, and why I do artwork. My parents gave me the greatest childhood one could ask for, and for that I am forever grateful. My parents are the reason I graduated college entirely debt free, and for that I am forever in debt to them.
Their example of love and courage and humor should be learned from by all. My favorite quote from my mom is "screw 'em if they can't take a joke." Tonnie and Gary Hovey just recently celebrated their 30th anniversary, an increasingly uncommon milestone for marriages. And they still love each other.
I obviously have alot to live up to.
My dad is one of the funniest people you'll ever talk to. My endless jokes are all from him. About a year before I started at CCAD my dad began doing stainless steel sculptures with nothing but flat-ware. The sale of these bad boys are what got me through college. He worked a full-time job and worked on sculptures every night on the side to support me, my three sisters, and my mother. My dad has had Parkinson's Disease for the past fifteen years. I don't know if I could do what he's done in one hundred percent health, and yet he continues to be an example of great believing and humor in every situation.
Case in point: Dad will stumble often enough, and so he carries a cane. Most times he just walks with it by his side, not using it for support. When asked why he has the cane if he doesn't walk with it, my dad said that if he does fall, he can throw the cane at the ground to break the surface tension. I don't pick my heroes for nothing.
He finished his most recent, and my personal favorite, sculpture: Great Neck. How cool is this!?
The website looks terrible, but his work is beyond cool: hoveyware.com
Their example of love and courage and humor should be learned from by all. My favorite quote from my mom is "screw 'em if they can't take a joke." Tonnie and Gary Hovey just recently celebrated their 30th anniversary, an increasingly uncommon milestone for marriages. And they still love each other.
I obviously have alot to live up to.
My dad is one of the funniest people you'll ever talk to. My endless jokes are all from him. About a year before I started at CCAD my dad began doing stainless steel sculptures with nothing but flat-ware. The sale of these bad boys are what got me through college. He worked a full-time job and worked on sculptures every night on the side to support me, my three sisters, and my mother. My dad has had Parkinson's Disease for the past fifteen years. I don't know if I could do what he's done in one hundred percent health, and yet he continues to be an example of great believing and humor in every situation.
Case in point: Dad will stumble often enough, and so he carries a cane. Most times he just walks with it by his side, not using it for support. When asked why he has the cane if he doesn't walk with it, my dad said that if he does fall, he can throw the cane at the ground to break the surface tension. I don't pick my heroes for nothing.
He finished his most recent, and my personal favorite, sculpture: Great Neck. How cool is this!?
The website looks terrible, but his work is beyond cool: hoveyware.com
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