Am I becoming one of them?
Thoughts on art, life, understanding. Said to my mom, why make art? She responds, because you have to. Is that a valid answer? Is it a cop-out? Is it the truth? Does truth exist? Is there a way to get through an art degree without my thinking becoming unbearably recondite?
Discussion in meeting today -- art can never replicate life in a way that improves it, so what is the point? If it seeks to represent the natural world, it will always be a failure. My silent response -- it is not a replication, it is not a representation, it is a way of understanding, a way of wresting meaning. This is why art and science go together so naturally. While the rest of the world works to perpetuate commerce, the artists and scientists are stuck on the questions of meaning. Why, why why? Can't be bothered devoting our lives to making money, to carving a little place for ourselves within the system we're indoctrinated into. Must step outside the system, or slightly to the side of it, and ask, WHY? Why is the system the way it is? Why buy into it... or more importantly, how do we opt out of it?
Thinking about sex... Bukowski wrote about being obsessed with women's legs, because of this idea that maybe there was something more amazing hiding at the place where they meet, maybe all the answers to life's great mysteries were there... but always in the end disappointed by another drunken fuck, another cunt the same as all the others. No mysteries, no surprise. But I say, hold on there Buck. All of life's mysteries are contained within that moist space, the salvation of man exists in that (dis)passionate act, the answers you seek lay within that cunt you were so disappointed to find instead of hidden jewels. Creation, regeneration, reincarnation, everlasting life. We fuck so we won't ever die.
It's Halloween. I've got squirrels to draw.
29 October 2006
the frantic business of mice
the frantic business of mice
Seasons change. I started writing a poem. It's for an animated short about squirrels burying nuts. I've decided to try animation. At the moment, this seems like a very organic and obvious combination of my intake and my output.. That is, my favorite artistic medium to take in is film, but my favorite to output are painting and drawing. Put them together, and you find animation. For now, I'm very excited for the possibilities, and you know, why didn't I think of it sooner? We'll see how I feel after actually doing some - if the enthusiasm waxes or wanes after hours sketching nearly the same image over and over and over again. Right now it sounds sort of theraputic, medatative...
I thought it might be nice to juxtapose a ridiculous video of squirrels thrusting their heads into holes in the ground with a sort of stuffy poem about winter. This is the beginning (the video is about a minute long, so I'll have to make the text long enough to fill that time):
Mornings fair dew is turn to ice
Cool summer gusts to a vicious gale
In the fields frantic business of mice
As squirrel secures each last detail
Leaves of brown crunch underfoot
And this is no surprise
Noble stands once full come bare
Skeletons brace against the chill
Foxs gay smile turns to desperate stare
As Earths slow turn lays all life still
Summers folly makes winters fool
And this is no surprise
Spitting rain turns to silent snow
Lays a cloak of brilliant white
Air turns sharp against suns mute glow
Wolves hunt fruitless in the bluing night
Powder rests quiet underfoot
And this is no surprise
Seasons change. I started writing a poem. It's for an animated short about squirrels burying nuts. I've decided to try animation. At the moment, this seems like a very organic and obvious combination of my intake and my output.. That is, my favorite artistic medium to take in is film, but my favorite to output are painting and drawing. Put them together, and you find animation. For now, I'm very excited for the possibilities, and you know, why didn't I think of it sooner? We'll see how I feel after actually doing some - if the enthusiasm waxes or wanes after hours sketching nearly the same image over and over and over again. Right now it sounds sort of theraputic, medatative...
I thought it might be nice to juxtapose a ridiculous video of squirrels thrusting their heads into holes in the ground with a sort of stuffy poem about winter. This is the beginning (the video is about a minute long, so I'll have to make the text long enough to fill that time):
Mornings fair dew is turn to ice
Cool summer gusts to a vicious gale
In the fields frantic business of mice
As squirrel secures each last detail
Leaves of brown crunch underfoot
And this is no surprise
Noble stands once full come bare
Skeletons brace against the chill
Foxs gay smile turns to desperate stare
As Earths slow turn lays all life still
Summers folly makes winters fool
And this is no surprise
Spitting rain turns to silent snow
Lays a cloak of brilliant white
Air turns sharp against suns mute glow
Wolves hunt fruitless in the bluing night
Powder rests quiet underfoot
And this is no surprise
25 October 2006
signal to noise
signal to noise
watched a lars von trier film called 'Epidemic' several nights ago. in it there was a discussion of a toothpaste brand called 'Signal,' which I was unfamiliar with. following night I noticed one of my flatmates has a 'Signal' brand toothbrush, with the same characteristic red and white stripes as the toothpaste. wonder if reading too much Jung and pk Dick is influencing my perceptions of coincidences/synchronicities, or just being in an unfamiliar environment means things are closer to the front of my consciousness...
was it fate? or was it convenience?
hemmingway said this: It is easy to be hardboiled in the daytime, but at night it is another thing.
it is daytime now.
last night, while unsuccessfully attempting sleep, I came up with these dichotomies:
Cynic vs Romantic
Anxiety vs Curiosity
I meant to have a long list before I finished, but I only got those two.
I have to edit a video of squirrels now. Any suggestions for a suitable soundtrack will be greatly appreciated.
watched a lars von trier film called 'Epidemic' several nights ago. in it there was a discussion of a toothpaste brand called 'Signal,' which I was unfamiliar with. following night I noticed one of my flatmates has a 'Signal' brand toothbrush, with the same characteristic red and white stripes as the toothpaste. wonder if reading too much Jung and pk Dick is influencing my perceptions of coincidences/synchronicities, or just being in an unfamiliar environment means things are closer to the front of my consciousness...
was it fate? or was it convenience?
hemmingway said this: It is easy to be hardboiled in the daytime, but at night it is another thing.
it is daytime now.
last night, while unsuccessfully attempting sleep, I came up with these dichotomies:
Cynic vs Romantic
Anxiety vs Curiosity
I meant to have a long list before I finished, but I only got those two.
I have to edit a video of squirrels now. Any suggestions for a suitable soundtrack will be greatly appreciated.
24 October 2006
Holy shit I'm wired
my computer came today. now i can write dull or foolish or regretfully sent while drunk emails and blog posts. thank god for modern technology. art school is turning me into . . . one of them? would you like to hear what i'm currently reading? sure you would:
'Hallucinations and Their Impact on Art' - Dr. E.M.R. Critchley
'The Psychology of Visual Illusion' - Robinson
'The Politics of Pictures' - John Hartley
'Looking at Art From the Inside Out' - Mary Mathews Gedo
'Camouflage' - Scottish Arts Council
'War: Art and Society One' - Ken Baynes
'Man and His Symbols' - Carl Jung
and, of course, 'Radio Free Albemuth,' the last novel written by Philip K. Dick
I'm also making a film of squirrels burying nuts. Which reminds me, I'd better get to it. The winter is fast approaching, and before I know it all the nuts will be buried.
'Hallucinations and Their Impact on Art' - Dr. E.M.R. Critchley
'The Psychology of Visual Illusion' - Robinson
'The Politics of Pictures' - John Hartley
'Looking at Art From the Inside Out' - Mary Mathews Gedo
'Camouflage' - Scottish Arts Council
'War: Art and Society One' - Ken Baynes
'Man and His Symbols' - Carl Jung
and, of course, 'Radio Free Albemuth,' the last novel written by Philip K. Dick
I'm also making a film of squirrels burying nuts. Which reminds me, I'd better get to it. The winter is fast approaching, and before I know it all the nuts will be buried.
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