Next time my boyfriend wants to make a zombie movie, I'm going to cover people's faces in this new strange clay I've found.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
ZOMBIE CLAY
Next time my boyfriend wants to make a zombie movie, I'm going to cover people's faces in this new strange clay I've found.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
COGITO ERGO SUM
Ok, I'm back in the making-stuff mood today.
Just as I'm thinking of all the things that need finishing touches (clear coats, wall mounts, etc.), I get a new idea. I know I should finish everything else before I start something new, but I don't want to waste the mood. I'll save the boring stuff for when I'm not feeling too creative.
I took a phrase that I like, Cogito Ergo Sum, and made the letters out of clay. I'll paint them off-white as soon as they cool down from the oven. Then, I think I'm going to do some kind of space-inspired picture on wood as a background for gluing the phrase. Space is turning out to be a common theme for me. I'm pissed off that I'll never get to go there, so I just try to paint it.
Fresh out of my oven, Cogito Ergo Sum is Latin for Descartes' most famous quote, "Je pense, donc je suis." or "I think, therefore I am."
Off to look through the Hubble gallery...
... I decided on the Antennae Galaxies. The finished product doesn't really look like them, but they were a good source of color.
Just as I'm thinking of all the things that need finishing touches (clear coats, wall mounts, etc.), I get a new idea. I know I should finish everything else before I start something new, but I don't want to waste the mood. I'll save the boring stuff for when I'm not feeling too creative.
I took a phrase that I like, Cogito Ergo Sum, and made the letters out of clay. I'll paint them off-white as soon as they cool down from the oven. Then, I think I'm going to do some kind of space-inspired picture on wood as a background for gluing the phrase. Space is turning out to be a common theme for me. I'm pissed off that I'll never get to go there, so I just try to paint it.
Off to look through the Hubble gallery...
... I decided on the Antennae Galaxies. The finished product doesn't really look like them, but they were a good source of color.
Now that the painting's done, I can't decide if I actually want to put the letters on it.
Friday, August 5, 2011
I'M GOING TO JOIN THE CIRCUS WHEN I GROW UP
I'm in a band.
It's beginning to be an embarrassing thing to admit... but that doesn't mean I intend to quit any time soon.
This is our beloved Hammond organ. It hardly works most of the time, but it serves as a shrine to our musical home,
The Packhouse.
The band is comprised of myself, my boyfriend Alex, and our friend Martin. None of us are confined to one instrument. Martin sings in addition to playing guitar and bass, Alex usually plays drums but he frequently ventures to bass and guitar, and I play equal amounts of guitar, bass, drums, and keyboards. We have an understood system for making all of this work.
We've been playing together for many years now. There are a few shows, but mostly we make horrendous recordings in an old shed that we lovingly call The Packhouse. It is massive and its atmosphere cannot be matched. It has no heat or air, but it does have countless forgotten objects from the past 50 years. A tanning bed, broken Coke machines, multiple copies of the same Elvis Christmas album, giant plastic kittens, you name it, it's in there.
I'd like to share a recording with you. You might not like it at all, but we do. It's an extremely low-quality, hardly listenable version of one of our many original songs, Magnation. This track features Martin on vocals and bass, Alex on drums, and myself on guitar.
MAGNATION
Someday soon, I hope to provide you with a cleaner, more soberly performed example. Until then, good luck to your eardrums.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
LET'S BLOW THIS POPSICLE STAND
I’ve been doing more wondering than painting this week. I've come to a conclusion that might not be significant to you, but it's starting to make things very different for me.
I don’t suppose it’s an epiphany, really. It’s more like the merging of several trains of thought that I’ve been exploring separately for most of my life. Somehow, my need to understand human nature has met with my attempt to discover some simple realization about the nature of consciousness. These two topics, although they shared equal importance in my mind, rarely crossed paths. They seem so obviously related, but I guess I had some reason for separating them.
I’m trying to decide how far I need to go to explain this to you and how to give you a sense of conclusion when I’m finished.
I don’t know when science began to fascinate me as a means for self-exploration. Math was always my least favorite subject. When I say that I’m fascinated, I mean that I sometimes read articles and watch documentaries about modern physics. It’s actually a little bit pathetic, I hardly understand what they’re talking about most of the time. I seek it out because I don’t understand. I end up having to fill in the gaps myself because, well, I’m not in college. These resources are around because we common non-physicist people like having some direction in filling those gaps.
I have no interest in the math, I have interest in the increasingly philosophical questions that modern physics thinks it can answer. We’ve reached a point where science is filling the same hole that we used to fill with religion. Some are still satisfied with religion, but, for those of us who don’t want to fill that void with superstitions and personifications, there is now a way to fill that void without faith. Now, we don’t have to accept as many mysteries. We don’t have to accept that a God (where did he come from?) magically reached down and bestowed Adam with a mind. That was never a satisfying answer for most of us, anyway. Now, we are encouraged to wonder about the relationship between the physical world and our consciousness. This is one of my favorite things to wonder about.
Most of the time, I feel like people are trying to figure out which came first in this relationship . When and why did intelligence develop in the universe? Or, was there an intelligent being that created or has become the universe? I don’t like thinking about it on a timeline. My mind usually overheats when I think about time, anyway. Instead, I think of it as some kind of infinite self-discovery. The physical world and consciousness are one in the same to me. We know that we are aware, but we can’t figure out exactly how real matter is. Physicists keep trying to find the smallest building block of matter, but what would happen if we saw an object that could not be broken down? Can you fathom that? I can’t. Does something like that exist? Where would the edge of that object be? Where would it end and empty space begin? It’s edge would be measured by a number that might as well be infinity. I think matter is a projection, but not necessarily an illusion. No, I don’t pretend to understand how that works. I’m not even saying it’s right. Reasons aside, that is the idea I decided to run with. So, if you at least momentarily entertain the idea that matter is perception or projection, then you will probably arrive at an idea that is vaguely similar to mine. We are the universe examining itself. Many people have had this thought.
It might seem like a revelation at first, but it leaves more questions than it answers.
I think this is a good time to change the subject. This is right about where the silly universe questions begin to merge with more human ones.
Everyone has an agenda behind everything they do, all of the time. That used to be a dreary realization for me.
Some people are wonderfully able to see the best in others, to always give the benefit of the doubt, to trust. And, there are those who see trust only as a weakness in their defense against disappointment. They see only the primitive motives behind even the kindest actions. I think many or most of us can be one or the other in different environments and points in our lives. No matter which is dominant for a person, each tendency is rooted in personal experience. Those who are always suspicious have likely been burned badly in some way - or, they are so aware of their own selfishness that they look for the same in everyone else. I don’t think that the opposite is true for the more trusting people. If that was the case, we would have to assume that anyone who sees the good in others has never been hurt before and has little or no guilt about anything. We know that’s not true. Everyone has had disappointments and everyone has made mistakes. I think those people allow themselves to trust because they believe the reward is worth the risk.
The risks are different for everyone. Imagine you entered a harmonious, lifelong relationship with another person. This person could be a friend, a family member, a spouse, or anyone that is a large part of your life. Although you might have occasional disagreements, you and this person have an unbroken trust and respect for each other that has never been compromised. Would it matter to you if everything they ever said or did was based on a cold animal instinct? Technically, even the most selfless act can be attributed to a selfish, instinctive motive. Someone might go through hell for you, but they would be doing it for their own peace of mind. Even colder, they could be doing it out of some subconscious instinct that tells them that you are in some way more valuable to the continuation of the species. Would that love be less valid to you? It would to me. It would make love seem like a lie and it would make intelligence seem like a joke.
For a long time, this was how I looked at my relationships with people. I loved people, I even trusted people, but I had this nagging explanation for everything in the back of my mind that made me feel lonely even in my favorite company. I accepted that this was the way things were. I did not want to find a more comforting answer because I thought that it would require me to lie to myself or to let sentimentality get in the way of the truth. I saw the universe as a beautiful, yet impersonal marvel. I participated in relationships with people because I really did love them and their company, but I felt like I had to remind myself that it was an illusion. I couldn’t even figure out where my own feelings of love came from.
I had quit looking for a more comforting explanation when I finally found one. I do not feel as if I’m compromising anything. I do my best to make sure that I’m not trying to comfort my human loneliness with sappiness, superstition, or invention.
I was and still am convinced that we are unique in our fear of death. I don’t think that we are afraid of the experience of death, I think that we are afraid that our world and our perspective dies with us. We can’t stand the idea that no one else can feel what we feel, that no one else is watching. We want so badly to share ourselves and to be noticed. We want there to be a God with a plan or aliens with interest in us. Even conspiracy theories are a way of giving more significance to our lives. We look for anything that means that we are just as important to someone or something else as we are to ourselves. Our experiences are so profound to us, we cannot accept that they are ours and ours alone. We wish that we could literally see the world through someone else and that someone could feel what it’s like to be us. There is something about the isolated perspective of our own existence that deeply bothers us. I think it’s where art comes from.
Back to the universe! If the universe is like one being looking at itself from the inside out, why is that view broken into 6.8 billion (or more) pieces? What if love is a manifestation of our desire to reunite with our larger self? Would that mean that there is more driving us than selfishness and instinct? It does to me. I no longer feel the need to discover the exact motive behind everything. I feel I now understand that love is a desire to completely experience another version of the world - one that you like better than most. I doubt we’ll ever fully achieve that utterly complete connection in life, but we can at least take comfort in the idea that someone else genuinely wants to be a part of us. We wouldn’t need God if we actually understood that we were not alone in our desire to connect.
I don’t suppose it’s an epiphany, really. It’s more like the merging of several trains of thought that I’ve been exploring separately for most of my life. Somehow, my need to understand human nature has met with my attempt to discover some simple realization about the nature of consciousness. These two topics, although they shared equal importance in my mind, rarely crossed paths. They seem so obviously related, but I guess I had some reason for separating them.
I’m trying to decide how far I need to go to explain this to you and how to give you a sense of conclusion when I’m finished.
I don’t know when science began to fascinate me as a means for self-exploration. Math was always my least favorite subject. When I say that I’m fascinated, I mean that I sometimes read articles and watch documentaries about modern physics. It’s actually a little bit pathetic, I hardly understand what they’re talking about most of the time. I seek it out because I don’t understand. I end up having to fill in the gaps myself because, well, I’m not in college. These resources are around because we common non-physicist people like having some direction in filling those gaps.
I have no interest in the math, I have interest in the increasingly philosophical questions that modern physics thinks it can answer. We’ve reached a point where science is filling the same hole that we used to fill with religion. Some are still satisfied with religion, but, for those of us who don’t want to fill that void with superstitions and personifications, there is now a way to fill that void without faith. Now, we don’t have to accept as many mysteries. We don’t have to accept that a God (where did he come from?) magically reached down and bestowed Adam with a mind. That was never a satisfying answer for most of us, anyway. Now, we are encouraged to wonder about the relationship between the physical world and our consciousness. This is one of my favorite things to wonder about.
Most of the time, I feel like people are trying to figure out which came first in this relationship . When and why did intelligence develop in the universe? Or, was there an intelligent being that created or has become the universe? I don’t like thinking about it on a timeline. My mind usually overheats when I think about time, anyway. Instead, I think of it as some kind of infinite self-discovery. The physical world and consciousness are one in the same to me. We know that we are aware, but we can’t figure out exactly how real matter is. Physicists keep trying to find the smallest building block of matter, but what would happen if we saw an object that could not be broken down? Can you fathom that? I can’t. Does something like that exist? Where would the edge of that object be? Where would it end and empty space begin? It’s edge would be measured by a number that might as well be infinity. I think matter is a projection, but not necessarily an illusion. No, I don’t pretend to understand how that works. I’m not even saying it’s right. Reasons aside, that is the idea I decided to run with. So, if you at least momentarily entertain the idea that matter is perception or projection, then you will probably arrive at an idea that is vaguely similar to mine. We are the universe examining itself. Many people have had this thought.
It might seem like a revelation at first, but it leaves more questions than it answers.
I think this is a good time to change the subject. This is right about where the silly universe questions begin to merge with more human ones.
Everyone has an agenda behind everything they do, all of the time. That used to be a dreary realization for me.
Some people are wonderfully able to see the best in others, to always give the benefit of the doubt, to trust. And, there are those who see trust only as a weakness in their defense against disappointment. They see only the primitive motives behind even the kindest actions. I think many or most of us can be one or the other in different environments and points in our lives. No matter which is dominant for a person, each tendency is rooted in personal experience. Those who are always suspicious have likely been burned badly in some way - or, they are so aware of their own selfishness that they look for the same in everyone else. I don’t think that the opposite is true for the more trusting people. If that was the case, we would have to assume that anyone who sees the good in others has never been hurt before and has little or no guilt about anything. We know that’s not true. Everyone has had disappointments and everyone has made mistakes. I think those people allow themselves to trust because they believe the reward is worth the risk.
The risks are different for everyone. Imagine you entered a harmonious, lifelong relationship with another person. This person could be a friend, a family member, a spouse, or anyone that is a large part of your life. Although you might have occasional disagreements, you and this person have an unbroken trust and respect for each other that has never been compromised. Would it matter to you if everything they ever said or did was based on a cold animal instinct? Technically, even the most selfless act can be attributed to a selfish, instinctive motive. Someone might go through hell for you, but they would be doing it for their own peace of mind. Even colder, they could be doing it out of some subconscious instinct that tells them that you are in some way more valuable to the continuation of the species. Would that love be less valid to you? It would to me. It would make love seem like a lie and it would make intelligence seem like a joke.
For a long time, this was how I looked at my relationships with people. I loved people, I even trusted people, but I had this nagging explanation for everything in the back of my mind that made me feel lonely even in my favorite company. I accepted that this was the way things were. I did not want to find a more comforting answer because I thought that it would require me to lie to myself or to let sentimentality get in the way of the truth. I saw the universe as a beautiful, yet impersonal marvel. I participated in relationships with people because I really did love them and their company, but I felt like I had to remind myself that it was an illusion. I couldn’t even figure out where my own feelings of love came from.
I had quit looking for a more comforting explanation when I finally found one. I do not feel as if I’m compromising anything. I do my best to make sure that I’m not trying to comfort my human loneliness with sappiness, superstition, or invention.
I was and still am convinced that we are unique in our fear of death. I don’t think that we are afraid of the experience of death, I think that we are afraid that our world and our perspective dies with us. We can’t stand the idea that no one else can feel what we feel, that no one else is watching. We want so badly to share ourselves and to be noticed. We want there to be a God with a plan or aliens with interest in us. Even conspiracy theories are a way of giving more significance to our lives. We look for anything that means that we are just as important to someone or something else as we are to ourselves. Our experiences are so profound to us, we cannot accept that they are ours and ours alone. We wish that we could literally see the world through someone else and that someone could feel what it’s like to be us. There is something about the isolated perspective of our own existence that deeply bothers us. I think it’s where art comes from.
Back to the universe! If the universe is like one being looking at itself from the inside out, why is that view broken into 6.8 billion (or more) pieces? What if love is a manifestation of our desire to reunite with our larger self? Would that mean that there is more driving us than selfishness and instinct? It does to me. I no longer feel the need to discover the exact motive behind everything. I feel I now understand that love is a desire to completely experience another version of the world - one that you like better than most. I doubt we’ll ever fully achieve that utterly complete connection in life, but we can at least take comfort in the idea that someone else genuinely wants to be a part of us. We wouldn’t need God if we actually understood that we were not alone in our desire to connect.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
FOUL FOWL
Recently, I've been into the idea of wall-panel sets. I just did five phases of the moon by making flat moons out of clay, painting them with watercolors, filling in the details with silver leaf, and affixing them to five blue-stained wood panels. I was happy with results.
Next, I planned to do a similar set of the evolution of man. You know, those silhouettes of the ape/biped ape/caveman/taller caveman/modern man. I wasn't as pleased with the baked men as I had been with the moons, so I was toying with different paints. I propped them up on a scrap wood panel and spray painted them yellow. I left them outside to dry. While I was inside, some avian fool decided to relieve himself upon my clay men.
A bird shat on my stuff.
It was not the least frustrating moment in my painting-stuff history.
What did I do? I simply moved the poor ape slightly away from the crime scene and proceeded to add another coat of yellow. Now, I have an artificially fossilized bird feces on my handy scrap wood - along with the hideously colored, blurry outline of evolution. Someone might call it art.
Next, I planned to do a similar set of the evolution of man. You know, those silhouettes of the ape/biped ape/caveman/taller caveman/modern man. I wasn't as pleased with the baked men as I had been with the moons, so I was toying with different paints. I propped them up on a scrap wood panel and spray painted them yellow. I left them outside to dry. While I was inside, some avian fool decided to relieve himself upon my clay men.
A bird shat on my stuff.
It was not the least frustrating moment in my painting-stuff history.
What did I do? I simply moved the poor ape slightly away from the crime scene and proceeded to add another coat of yellow. Now, I have an artificially fossilized bird feces on my handy scrap wood - along with the hideously colored, blurry outline of evolution. Someone might call it art.
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