God, this song rocks so hard. I'm so super serious. I wish it was three times as long. . .
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Why does everybody gotta be down on Aerosmith?!
Lately I've been listening to a lot of Aerosmith. Now, I could qualify it like the few other people I've run across who will admit to liking/listening to Aerosmith, you know as in, "only the old stuff" or "just their Ballads" but the truth is I've been listening to it all, even like, 'Crazy' and 'Angel' but especially 'Love in an Elevator,' 'Rag Doll' and most of all 'What it Takes.'
Anyway, I don't get why Aerosmith has no street cred. They've done some ground braking shit, like 'Walk This Way' with Run DMC, which may not seem like a big deal these days, but was HUGE when it came out. How can you deny that these guys totally rock?
Case in point:
Anyway, I don't get why Aerosmith has no street cred. They've done some ground braking shit, like 'Walk This Way' with Run DMC, which may not seem like a big deal these days, but was HUGE when it came out. How can you deny that these guys totally rock?
Case in point:
Monday, June 1, 2009
Holiday Road
Who'd of thought the video for 'Holiday Road' was so serious and dark?! Lindsay Buckingham seems to be having some sort of existential dilemma and the sets are reminiscent of German Expressionism or something. . .
Der Maulfwurf (Krtek)
I love these cartoons of this little mole who lives in this beautiful forest drawn with a lot of Eastern European folk motifs, so sweet, and his adventures are so innocent and endearing...
Artist's Statement
I've been working on my website all week and had to dig around in my old files for this artist statement I did last year. I still really like it, and am posting it here for posterity too.
Some days I have a hard time with artist statements. Most of the time I feel like really good art (or maybe just the kind of art I personally want to create and experience) shouldn't require an explanation, or any sort of wordy accompaniment, that it's purpose is to exist on it's own, autonomous, and that each person who interacts with it has a unique experience.
But I understand that a lot of art is commentary or dialog, a dialog with other art, or art history; or a commentary on politics or culture; and I'll admit that I like that kind of art too, because of course it can have profound intellectual and social merit, and in those cases artist statements can be helpful.
Artist statements exist because you want to know what I was thinking, what I'm trying to say, and what moved me to do this. You want to know what kind of art this is, and that makes sense.
And I guess what it boils down to is that it's personal. This is the essence of every artist statement I've ever written. It's not political, or intellectual . . . ok, I hope it's a little intellectual, but really I made these paintings because this is how I feel about my life. This is also how I escape from my life. Sometimes this is the place I'd rather be, or the anger I can't express, the loneliness of childhood, or the disappointment of adulthood. And sometimes it's just something that makes me happy.
But I can't decide if you should really know that; if you need to know that to enjoy this art. I hope not. I hope you look at it and interact with it on your own, and bring to it all of your own ideas, memories and opinions, and have your own experience.
I don't know what "artist statements" accomplish in this case. What's the point of showing this art? What's the point of putting all this on display for friends and strangers? I don't know...
Maybe because sharing art with people gives it weight, validation, and makes it art. Maybe it's like that tree falling in the woods and no one being there to hear it.
Oh wait, and maybe it's because I'm selling it. I need money, and this stuff can't just sit around my house forever.
Some days I have a hard time with artist statements. Most of the time I feel like really good art (or maybe just the kind of art I personally want to create and experience) shouldn't require an explanation, or any sort of wordy accompaniment, that it's purpose is to exist on it's own, autonomous, and that each person who interacts with it has a unique experience.
But I understand that a lot of art is commentary or dialog, a dialog with other art, or art history; or a commentary on politics or culture; and I'll admit that I like that kind of art too, because of course it can have profound intellectual and social merit, and in those cases artist statements can be helpful.
Artist statements exist because you want to know what I was thinking, what I'm trying to say, and what moved me to do this. You want to know what kind of art this is, and that makes sense.
And I guess what it boils down to is that it's personal. This is the essence of every artist statement I've ever written. It's not political, or intellectual . . . ok, I hope it's a little intellectual, but really I made these paintings because this is how I feel about my life. This is also how I escape from my life. Sometimes this is the place I'd rather be, or the anger I can't express, the loneliness of childhood, or the disappointment of adulthood. And sometimes it's just something that makes me happy.
But I can't decide if you should really know that; if you need to know that to enjoy this art. I hope not. I hope you look at it and interact with it on your own, and bring to it all of your own ideas, memories and opinions, and have your own experience.
I don't know what "artist statements" accomplish in this case. What's the point of showing this art? What's the point of putting all this on display for friends and strangers? I don't know...
Maybe because sharing art with people gives it weight, validation, and makes it art. Maybe it's like that tree falling in the woods and no one being there to hear it.
Oh wait, and maybe it's because I'm selling it. I need money, and this stuff can't just sit around my house forever.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Owl Follow Up...
Ok, I've done a little owl research, and it very clearly was a Great Horned Owl
Um, but there are some rad and super fucking adorable tiny owls native to this area too! OMG, I couldn't help but pass along the Northern Saw-whet Owl:
and the Northern Pygmy Owl!
Um, but there are some rad and super fucking adorable tiny owls native to this area too! OMG, I couldn't help but pass along the Northern Saw-whet Owl:
and the Northern Pygmy Owl!
Thursday, December 4, 2008
What it fortells...
So today after I got off work and unlocked my bike, I turned eastward and saw a shooting star. Like an amazing green shooting star to the southeast, it was so bright and in the sky for so long, longer than a whole second, that for a millisecond I thought it was an airplane, but as it streaked downward I realized it was a meteorite and it burned from green to a flash of white and disappeared. I won't tell you what I wished for. Anyway, it was pretty and odd. Like in such a way that I'm taking all this time right here to describe it to you instead of simply stating, "I saw a shooting star" plus the sun hadn't fully set yet, it wasn't pitch black, so that made it even more striking, I've never seen a meteorite that early before, I've usually only seen them late at night.
Then I hopped on my bike, crossed Broadway and rode down to 18th, made a right and was peddling fast to get warm, past those giant elm trees and big old houses lit by orange street lamps. It's a pretty street and fall leaves were everywhere. Anyway, i was still thinking about that crazy shooting star, when the giant dark shadow of a HUMONGOUS bird came right over me and scared the crap out of me. In my first heartbeat I thought it was a crow flying close to a streetlight, and it was like the movie The Crow, the way this shadow overtook me and was so perfectly bird shapped, uh I just don't know how to describe how awesomely cinematic the whole thing was, then a second heartbeat later a huge owl flew right over my head after his shadow. He was big and soft looking with an indescribable wingspan, he slowly and deliberately moved those giant wings and I could almost feel the big thuds of his wingbeats. He swooped ahead of me and glided to the right into a tree. I slammed on my brakes and walked my bike back down the sidewalk and saw him sitting up in a tree. He was like a big, dark, fluffy mass with pointy ears and two tiny shiny eyes. He was twice the size of my cat. We stared at each other for a second, then he lumbered off his branch, and gently loped off into the air, over my head, and I spun around to see him go off to the right around the corner. Then a band of kids came running up to me with tennis rackets and little plastic bats, they were all excited and started yelling to me, "Hey, did you see that owl? It was following you!" We all went around to corner together to see if we could find it again, but he was gone.
I didn't think owls lived in cities! I don't think I've ever seen one like that before. it was kind of amazing, but also totally weird paired with that shooting star. Like I feel like they were olden days omens or something. I hope they would've been good omens, and not fire and brimstone ones.
Dudes, I'd be so stoked if I woke up in the middle of the night to a tap-tapping on my window and it's that fucking owl and he can talk, and he has a secret message for me from some magical distant relative. So like, if I'm not here tomorrow, it's because I'm in some magical otherworld where one minute there equals 7 years here and I hope I can take Algebra with me in a basket and when we get there she can speak english and prefers to be dressed in a pinafore. That'd be so fucking sweet.
Then I hopped on my bike, crossed Broadway and rode down to 18th, made a right and was peddling fast to get warm, past those giant elm trees and big old houses lit by orange street lamps. It's a pretty street and fall leaves were everywhere. Anyway, i was still thinking about that crazy shooting star, when the giant dark shadow of a HUMONGOUS bird came right over me and scared the crap out of me. In my first heartbeat I thought it was a crow flying close to a streetlight, and it was like the movie The Crow, the way this shadow overtook me and was so perfectly bird shapped, uh I just don't know how to describe how awesomely cinematic the whole thing was, then a second heartbeat later a huge owl flew right over my head after his shadow. He was big and soft looking with an indescribable wingspan, he slowly and deliberately moved those giant wings and I could almost feel the big thuds of his wingbeats. He swooped ahead of me and glided to the right into a tree. I slammed on my brakes and walked my bike back down the sidewalk and saw him sitting up in a tree. He was like a big, dark, fluffy mass with pointy ears and two tiny shiny eyes. He was twice the size of my cat. We stared at each other for a second, then he lumbered off his branch, and gently loped off into the air, over my head, and I spun around to see him go off to the right around the corner. Then a band of kids came running up to me with tennis rackets and little plastic bats, they were all excited and started yelling to me, "Hey, did you see that owl? It was following you!" We all went around to corner together to see if we could find it again, but he was gone.
I didn't think owls lived in cities! I don't think I've ever seen one like that before. it was kind of amazing, but also totally weird paired with that shooting star. Like I feel like they were olden days omens or something. I hope they would've been good omens, and not fire and brimstone ones.
Dudes, I'd be so stoked if I woke up in the middle of the night to a tap-tapping on my window and it's that fucking owl and he can talk, and he has a secret message for me from some magical distant relative. So like, if I'm not here tomorrow, it's because I'm in some magical otherworld where one minute there equals 7 years here and I hope I can take Algebra with me in a basket and when we get there she can speak english and prefers to be dressed in a pinafore. That'd be so fucking sweet.
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