Thursday, February 23, 2017

show me ur horns

24x18, ballpoint, paintmarker, crayon, covered in packing tape. this shit is awesome, this is what i feel like <3 i keep trying to name it but actually, fuck that. "the 3 witches" "the industrial complex" "fuck u" "buffalo dildo" idk. but i do know the more i look at it the more it makes sense. the bomb is the environment, growling at us and ready to pop off. mickey is the media, blowing up our imagiNations. and pinky is me, getting by. i love this, i gotta do more. <3<3<3


ur a superstar, that is wat u R

starting to relax a little more, less antics of placation and more realness. people seem to appreciate me a lot more the less i try to put on a happy face. that feels good. telling people "no" without all the special effects feels good, too. my body and i are becoming better friends, things i always wanted to do i'm able to get glimpses of and that's encouraging. like moonwalking! i can almost do that and its making everything else feel easier. walking feels less janky and irritating :DDD I still have an infinite to do list. i want to write more. i want to sculpt more. i have been painting and drawing more and it makes me want to do even more. i feel more honest lately, or something. i'm definitely always learning but i must have had a breakthrough recently. i think it has to do with pinterest. https://www.pinterest.com/benOni7/pins/ i love art and looking at cool things is one of the reassuring things i have in my life, and in the last year i discovered practically infinite awesome art on pinterest. its like something clicked inside me that says "alright u found this treasure trove, u can relax a little," and now my own creative process has lightened/opened up a fucking lot! i also learned about Warhol, Basquiat and Haring, which, i think, radically changed how i think art "works." Like, all the ideas of how i thought art was "supposed" to work just evaporated. it's liberating. i recently finished a whole painting in like 4 days, and that's never happened b4 (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/413697915756092681/). and i love what i made, which has happened but not very often. validation, encouragement, a push. at the same time tho, i feel pissed and sad bcause all 3 of those artists died because of bullshit. warhol died from negligence. basquiat od'd. and haring died because of aids. wtf. they would all still be alive today if not for this fucking bullshit environment we are struggling with. i wonder if we would be friends. i think we would have been. i would have wanted to be.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

move with me


Making Peace With Our Chimeras
from
(Cassandra's Legacy) -- The story of the Chimera is very ancient; it is one of the most ancient myths of our civilization. ... The curious thing is that such an old story is still with us, not very much changed.

In modern terms, we could say that a myth is a form of viral communication. It is a fashionable concept, nowadays, but it is a correct interpretation of a common phenomenon, also very ancient. It is simply that, when you transmit a message, it has to be de-codified by the receiver. So, you can send a very compact message that the receiver will "unpack" or "unzip."

Being so compact, a real communication virus, the myth is easy transmitted; it does not require a support other than the mind of a peasant grandmother. And when it has taken root in a mind, it stays there because it is memorized as a whole. Just because of this, it is very difficult - almost impossible - to destroy it. It is transmitted generation after generation, always the same, because it is so simple and compact.


continued
http://cassandralegacy.blogspot.com/2012/06/making-peace-with-our-chimeras.html


Thursday, May 31, 2012

angry sidewalks

Last night on my walk home from the dreaming ant, i had an interesting experience with another human being and his dog companion. I had just been sifting through the movies at the ant, looking for some magic, and saying hi to a fellow adventurer who was watching a sad and a happy clown violently fighting one another. Before that i was at class, learning how to integrate more of my body with the rest of my body, and stringing all the parts together into a dance that sometimes makes my body need to vomit.

And after the dancing and the stringing and the movie sifting and the hi-ing and the violent clowns, i was walking up the street towards home-base and i saw a dark and stormy, broody looking man walking his dog on the sidewalk, heading in my direction. As he approached, being the dog lover/scoper-outter that i am, i identified the dog as pitbul when the man spit in my walking path. This act of spitting is not something i ever take personally, but it is always something that registers on some level as aggressive, so i shifted focus from the lovely dog to the dark and broody man. His head, sitting on a beefy neck, supported by a largely built body, was down and covered in long black hair. The closer he got the stormier he looked, and i faintly detected a gravitation of his walking trajectory into mine.

At this point, several things began to happen. I started to relax and i focused my attention completely on the man and tried to make eye contact. His lips were a little pursed and his brow just a little furrowed, while the rain cloud above his head  followed him like a shadow. No eye contact.  The dog was oblivious of me, i noticed, when it became clear to me that collision between the broody one and myself was imminent. My body relaxed and my brain went quiet, i anticipated/felt the collision and deflected it with almost no impact. His very deliberate, thoughtful and heavy shoulder seemed to reach out for mine, but i felt like a leaf in the wind. I was a leaf in the wind. No triggering, no fear, no reaction at all. Just being a leaf.

I kept walking without breaking stride, coming back into my normal mind. i turned to see what his and the dog's reaction might be, but they just walked on. Once i was back in reality and not being a leaf, i started analyzing what had happened and wondered how in the world i would/could interact with an aggressive and broody man and a pitbul in a confrontation. I had no answers. I was thankful i wasn't forced to make any other decision than what i had chosen.

The next day i told my co-buddies at work and L told me he had learned to punch the dog in the nose to get it to back off. That would make me sad, but not as sad as being hospitalized. I'll ask my teacher in class on Saturday and see what he might suggest.