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Today at work, our secretary, Mary, dressed up as a witch. No matter where she was in the office, you could see the tip of her hat over all of the cubes. The funny thing is, nobody else dressed up; she just did it because she felt like it, in the spirit of the holiday. She also brought in candy for everybody, just because she felt like it. I have a feeling Mary is a big kid at heart. Tomorrow I'll be going to our annual "Splatterfest" gory movie festival. Each year, a couple dozen of us get together, watch the lamest, but splatteriest movies around. We mock the movies more than we watch them and cheer on the gore! Everybody brings a dish to pass, trying to make it look like the most disgusting, splattery feast. A few years ago I brought a casserole that looked like ground up flesh; somebody else brought a dessert that looked like a dirty litter box...you get the picture. It's an awesome time, an awesome tradition. This year because of how close it is to the holiday, we're all dressing up. Everybody's excited about it. It's funny to think that all of these 20- and 30-somethings are wracking their brains for this party. I really believe that in order for this tradition to carry on, all the attendees have to be kids at heart. I'm going to a party tonight. I'm so jazzed about Halloween that I'm dressing up two days in a row. I'm really excited about my costume; I always get this way. Maybe in a later post I'll show some pictures of previous costumes. I go all out. I think it's just another way for me to be creative and be a big kid. This year's costume involves fake glue-on pointy ears, a nasty wig, hair clued to my bare feet, a shiny sword, and a magic ring of power, one ring, that will rule them all. I'll be sure to post pictures from the events. Well, gotta fly, I've got hair to glue on my feet. Trick or treat! Today's music: Thriller. To me, Halloween without Thriller is like Thanksgiving without a turkey and Christmas without carols. |
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Tradition can be such a great and necessary thing when the crazy world around you seem to be in such complete disarray. Being around such good friends is so necessary at times in life, even if it's to just carve pumpkins and eat pizza.
This post is a bit of a jumble of thoughts and ideas tonight; my brain is complete toast. This entry was really just meant to be a small celebration of a few of the good things in life, a good group of friends, the positive side of the circle of life and the passage of time, and to point out the true importance of certain traditions. In these jumbled-up, crazy past few days, tonight was so completely necessary in my greater scheme of things. Sweet dreams. Wednesday's music: In Time: The Best Of R.E.M. 1988-2003 |
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Everybody
Hurts Two years after September 11th, the reality of it has slapped me in the face, forced me to attention. Suddenly, now, this damn crazy world seems like such a small, scary place. As I sit here tonight in front of this computer screen, I realize that I'm so lucky for what I have in life. A day shouldn't go by where I don't count my blessings. Tonight, I feel fortunate enough that I'll be able to find some solitude in the form of some of the simple diversions in my life...friends, family, art, music, and entertainment. Others aren't so lucky. Tuesday's playlist: 1. George Harrison - All Things Must Pass 2. Johnny Cash - American IV: The Man Comes Around 3. Sting - Soul Cages 4. In Time: The Best Of R.E.M. 1988-2003 |
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Monday's playlist: 1. Madonna - GHV2 2. Sinead O'Connor - I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got 3. Enya - The Memory Of Trees 4. Tori Amos - Under The Pink 5. The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers Soundtrack |
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I got a new magazine in the mail today. They misspelled my name on the address label: "Gray Meulomans." An easy enough mistake, I guess; I found the jumbled letters kind of funny, quite approriate really. My saving grace during these challenging times is my art. Class on Thursday night was one of the best yet. I find my classmates so endearing, so inspiring. It's interesting to note that they have their gray times as well. It makes sense to me that artists tend to be more sensitive than most people. We tend to see the world around us differently and internalize things more often. Art, the creation process, I suppose, is such a personal thing. It's hard not to be affected by our emotions.
Personally, I find that the more I draw and write, the more time I spend internalizing, the more emotional I am. I'm forced to explore the things around me that are making me sad or angry or pissed off. I'm forced to deal with things instead of ignoring them and watching tv. I guess it's a double-edged sword then, that I'm happier now than I have been in a long time because of my art, but yet I'm moodier as well. I feel much more complete, but much more agitated. My patience for ignorance and stupidity is dwindling. There's so much I want to do; it's as if I suddenly value my time again, and have no time for pettiness. Has me getting back into my art turned me into some kind of art snob? Picasso had his blue period. I'm certainly no Picasso, but is this my gray period? Gray Meulomans. As usual, my art class was another amazing experience. Samere was our model again. I think he's my favorite model that I've drawn so far next to Jacqueline. Samere's such a genuine soul. I got so much out of class Thursday night: a few pointers from others and many things to think and write about. The topic of God and divinity came up again. I feel like I'm living a godless life and that's been buzzing in my head lately. But I'm not sure what's been bothering me: the fact that I feel like I have no God in my life, or the fact that I feel like I should be bothered by a God-less life and am not. Religion has been one of those things that I've struggled with since a philosophy 101 class in college forced me to question my beliefs at a fragile time in my life. Religion will be a subject for some other, much larger, post though. So tonight, I plan on going out with my friends Nate and Kim again. We may possibly even go to a martini bar, which I've been looking to do for months now. I need this night out in the worst way. Last night I destroyed a few brain cells watching a marathon of I Love The 80s and Sex & The City. Sometimes I just need to relax and not be the artist. Cheers! Saturday's playlist: 1. Clay Aiken - The Measure Of A Man 2. Dido - Life For Rent 3. Prince - N.E.W.S. P.S. I've updated the photography section of this site earlier today, adding more seasonal photos. Check it out! P.P.S. During the writing of this post, I've been listing to the soft rock channel on my digital cable's music choice. How pathetic is it that I'm doing a spell check to Bette Midler's The Rose? My god, I've become a cliche! Bartender!!! |
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Grey
Matter Wednesday's playlist: 1. Madonna - GHV2 2. U2 - Greatest Hits 1980-1990 3. The Beatles - The White Album 4. Rusted Root - When I Woke |
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I'm reminded of a scene in the Madonna movie, Truth Or Dare, where she's getting her throat checked on camera. Warren Beaty, her man of the moment, couldn't believe she was having a private thing like this done on film. She pondered, "Why stop here?" Rhetorically, he responded, "Why do anything, I suppose, if it's not on camera?" Why do anything if nobody's watching? When I saw that scene on the DVD a few weeks ago, it struck a nerve with me. With the creation of this blog, it's as if the presence of it is feeding upon itself. The life I live feeds content to the site, but the presence of this site feeds content to my life. Last month, the night before I ran the 6 mile race, my friend Jason invited me to go out with him and "the Germans." Originally, I turned him down. I had to get up early for my run. But then I changed my mind: "Maybe a night out with some crazy Germans will give me something to write about on my website." On the drive back from the Mall of America a couple weekends ago, I was shooting pictures of the scenery specifically to post on this site. Does the mere presence of this site change how I look and experience things, knowing that others will be viewing? Just today, I found of that one of my best friends misinterpreted one of my posts, was hurt by it, in fact. I feel horrible when this happens; question why I'm doing this. I'm not doing this to hurt the ones I care about. This isn't the first time this has happened either, where I'm vague about something in my writing and somebody takes it the wrong way. When I hear things like that, know that somebody may read something a certain way, I find myself struggling between writing what I feel versus censoring my thoughts so they're not misread. I've caught myself censoring myself on certain posts that may be about somebody if I know that they're reading this. There have been a couple of postings since the beginning of this site, where I've only posted a picture because I knew the person that the picture was viewed my site. Does the fact that I know that others are viewing this, change the purity of what I have to say? Or how I say it? When I'm expressing myself in my art, the last thing I want to do is censor or judge myself. "Just as you find me, always I will be a little too free with myself." - U2, Summer Rain By definition doesn't "expressing yourself" mean expressing something to another person? I could just draw in my sketch book and write in my notebook, I suppose, but that seems to fall short to me. For some reason, I feel obligated to share my art with the world around me. I guess, I've made that decision to share the good with the world as well as the bad. Whether I'm venting or being silly or obnoxious or perverted or cursing like a sailor, that's how I feel at the moment. Sometimes I'm trying to be artistic, sometimes I'm just existing. Being. Posting my true feeling for the world to see isn't an easy thing. It's difficult sharing my inner demons with the world. It's difficult showing the stupid things I do, all the mistakes I've made in life. But I wonder if it's even more difficult, if I knew that nobody was out there reading? I have no apologies for sharing my life like this or feeling like I do. I regret when something is misread, misinterpreted, or a point is missed altogether. Like I said, at times, I feel horrible about it. But this is my outlet, this is my art, this is my soul. I need this. Wednesday's playlist: 1. The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers Original Soundtrack 2. Field Of Dreams Original Soundtrack |
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Have
Some More Caffeine....That'll Help There's a co-worker of mine who's complete stressed out all of the time. I can't even stand being around him anymore; it's like he sucks all the energy out of the room with his nervous energy. I so don't want to be that guy. That's all for tonight. Tuesday's playlist: 1. Rhythm Of The Pridelands 2. Chris Isaak - Heart Shaped World P.S. I worked on my Halloween costume tonight, and am 95% done with it (I must say, it's going to kick ass this year). I plan on going out on Halloween night, and then dressing up again the next day for Splatterfest. Any guesses on what I'll be dressing up like this year?? I absolutely love this holiday!! |
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Me: "What are you doing John?" John: "I'm getting the digital camera ready for Jamie." Me: "Oh? Did he tell you he talked to me about it on Friday?" Jon: "No." Me: "Did he happen to mention that I told him he we didn't want him using the camera and that he'd have to find another way?" John: "No. Interesting." Me: "Yeah, interesting indeed." The fucker asked me for permission for something, I turned him down, he waited a day, and asked somebody else until he got the permission he was looking for all along. Like a two year old. What a fucker. It pisses me off that he wasted a half hour of my time and then had the balls to ask John and waste his time as well. I'm used to being lied to at work. It's a common practice amongst ineffective middle management and the human resource department. I've come to expect it. But it's never been so blatantly done in front of me like that before, by somebody who's more or less a peer. I've never quite felt like I've been played me for the fool like this before. I haven't called the guy on it yet; that would be the civilized way to do it. I'm done wasting my frickin' time with this idiot. I'll be going straight to his boss, behind his back, and sharing this little story. Two can play at this game. Mother fucker. I just had to get that off of my chest. Monday's playlist: 1. Coldplay - A Rush Of Blood To The Head 2. Sting - Sacred Love 3. The Matrix Reloaded Soundtrack |
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I'm not sure how Dad's yearly light display turned into this monstrosity. I know I had something to do with it. Each year I'd suggest decorating one more tree or adding a few more sets of lights to each tree. What once was a Sunday afternoon affair in late November now eats up any open Saturday I have in the fall. For all of its excess, it has somehow become one of the special things about the holidays for my family. Dad takes such pride in his yard all summer long, it practically looks like a golf course. In the winter, he takes pride in his lights. He grins like the Cheshire cat every time a car slows down to practically a stop just to stare at the display. Mom plays up the role of disapproval each time he spends more money on lights at Menards, but takes an equal amount of pride in the garish beauty the lights have to offer. It's become something that my nephews look forward to. Dad's name and address even get put in the paper closer to the holidays. There's a part of me that realizes how gaudy and extravagant it all is. I love Christmas and should know better. The spirit of Christmas shouldn't be about the brightness of the display in the yard. Didn't we learn anything from the Charlie Brown Christmas special? But yet, despite all the work, I wouldn't change a thing. This is my thing with my dad. This is one of the few things that he and I have in common. In general, my dad and I don't talk much. I see him a lot, but we just don't talk. We comfortable co-exist around each other, but that's about it. Our lives are so different from each other. He's a construction worker, I'm an office worker. He has no idea what the internet is, what a computer can do, or how sitting at a desk all day can be considered work. My brother and brother-in-law are both tradesman like my dad; they have lots in common. But me, the oldest son who always used to have his nose in a book, who left home and went to "the big city" to study art, is probably a bit of a mystery to him. And he to me. My father isn't the easiest man to communicate with either. He's got quite a temper and is set in his ways. His close-mindedness amazes me at times. I look through my old photo albums and see pictures of me and Dad spending time together. It's obvious we were much closer at one point in my life. I wonder where things changed with us? When did he loose touch with me? I see him with my nephews now, he's such a great grandfather to them. I see how he acts around them, I can see the love. I know that at one time, he felt that way about me too. I know he still loves me, but at times I really have to remind myself of that. I think back to when I was young, and how hard Dad worked for us, just to put food on our table. He'd work all day long, 10, 12 hour days on the construction site, then come home, eat supper, and take care of our farm. We raised beef cattle and at various times chickens and pigs. Many times after getting the work done in our barn, he'd go over and help out Grandpa. The only fighting I ever remember Mom and Dad doing was about where the money was going to come from for the next bill. But yet, we always had a ton of toys at Christmas and nice clothes on our backs for school. Mom and Dad busted their asses for us. I love my dad, that's for sure. I love him for the sacrifices he made as I was growing up. But I wonder what happened between us. I wonder where the relationship went?? So yeah, the Meulemans family Christmas display is certainly a bit much, and I'm pretty sure that it isn't done growing. But I'm not planning on making it go away anytime soon. The silence between me and Dad is uncomfortable and bothers me most of the time, but when the holiday season arrives each year, some of that silence goes away as we share a common goal. I know these lights will always be "our thing." In the end, isn't that what the holiday season is all about? Later. Saturday's playlist: 1. U2 - Greatest Hits and B-Side 1990 - 2000 2. Labor Day Mix 2003 3. Madonna - American Life 4. Clay Aiken - The Measure Of A Man 5. Dido - Life For Rent Comments? I know you're out there, I can hear you breathing. |
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I only worked until 2:00 yesterday, which happened to be when my deadline was. I had to take a few hours vacation and get ready for "the family pictures." Every few years we try to get our family's pictures professionally taken. Yesterday, as I was sitting outside amongst the leaves in an awesome fall setting, as we all color coordinated in different shades of blue (this sounds silly, but it actually looked really cool), I had all I wanted to do to fake a smile for the camera. I was so burned out from the week, so done for the week.
As we started, I could really feel myself beginning to relax, finally losing the stress from the hectic week gone by. The two smaller sketches in this post are the short 15-minute drawings we do, just to kind of warm up. I felt like I was right on track; I was finding my zone. It was going to be one of those great drawing nights. It was exactly what I needed.
I took a step back, and realized that I was totally forcing the issue, forcing my approach on the drawing. I remembered some of the extra features that I watched on the Lion King DVD earlier this week. I remembered the style those artists drew in, very simple, very clean. At that moment I said to myself "Fuck it! Hakuna matata (no worries), I'm gonna treat this like a Walt Disney. What would Walt Disney do??" So my approach for the rest of the night was that of a Disney artist, only drawing a line if it was necessary, only using simple lines for value and shape. I used a lot of restraint in that drawing, decided both what to draw and what not to draw. In the end, I created a drawing that I'm really jazzed about and quite proud of. Sure, I think she kind of looks like Pocahontas, but to be honest, that's what she really looks like. The Disney inspiration certainly came through. I can also see the inspiration of one of my favorite artists when I was younger, Patrick Nagel. I still have many of his prints in my place. It's funny how we store those things in the back of our little minds and how they surface when we least expect it. Looking at my drawings from last night now, I have to say I'm extremely pleased with them, and wonder what all the stress was about. The only one I didn't post was the one that I fought with for that initial half hour of the long sketch. Nobody needs to see that. Last night was the first time in a long time that I really allowed work to affect my art. I get a kick how I let a little inspiration from Disney, a silly little marketing tag line, helped me through. Friday's playlist: 1. Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers soundtrack 2. Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship Of The Ring soundtrack 3. U2 - All That You Can't Leave Behind |
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The
Return The real reason for this late night post: Today, Brandon showed me this, the trailer to Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. It looks cooler than I ever could have imagined. Waaay cool. Now I just have to wait the 2 months to see it. Check out the trailer if it's your thing. It's been my precious all year. That's all for now. I have to go to bed. |
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A Thousand
Words Wednesday's playlist: 1. Clay Aiken - The Measure Of A Man 2. Dido - Life For Rent 3. Celine Dion - One Heart 4. Christina Aguilera - Stripped |
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Things at work have been ho-hum...a bit stressful, but nothing I can't deal with. But yet, all the hustle, all the drama, all the team building and priorities....it's hard to feel 100% gung-ho about it. I watch the office react around me and get tired of pointlessly caring. It's much easier to be numb to it all. I get home from work and try to get informed about the world around me. The local news has nothing but stories about the Green Bay Packers, it seems. The national stations, CNN, Fox, MSN, etc., all seem to have some damn political agenda. They don't report news, they report sensation. How does Coby Bryant or Rush Limbaugh's drug use really count as a top news story in the scheme of things, when there are people dying all over the world? Why is it, that when I'm trying to find the news, I find a couple of analysts arguing, hell, screaming at each other, all for the sake of pushing their new book? I can truly understand why Elvis shot his TV. I try to get a taste of the world around me, but it's freeze-dried. It numbs my eyes. "57 channels and nothing on." - Bruce Springsteen I won't even get into the J-Los and Afflecks; the Lizzes, Lizas, and the newest lesbian kisses. Sensationalism counts for entertainment these days. People have nothing interesting to say. It's as if I'm able to see a majority of what I used to call entertainment now as nothing more than some slimy P.R. move. Hollywood is the home of the biggest whores around who will literally do anything for a moment in the sun. It's amazing to me that a story about Courtney Love getting arrested comes out shortly before her new album does. At times, I no longer believe in coincidence. I believe in P.R. My cynicism makes it harder to get excited about the things I used to care about. My cynicism is beginning to dull my senses. Tonight I'm going to blame the season around me for this foul mood, the autumn that I've been praising for the past few months now. The loss of sunlight in the morning and after work each day gets more and more noticeable. It grates on me, wears me down. As the colors turn from vibrant golds to dull grays, so do I. For the past few days now after work, I'm just not in the mood to be around anybody or deal with all the b.s on TV. I just want to read or watch a DVD, write or draw for my blog. But as I turn off the things around me, I sense myself falling deeper and deeper into my shell, into the isolated artist that I once was in high school and college. For as much as I love my time alone, thrive on it at times, in fact, I get concerned that I'm going to get too used to it. Will there be a point where I shut myself off from those around me, and forget how to turn myself back on? I feel that in order for me to be the artist I'm used to being, I have to open myself up to my inner voice, and mute the world around me. For as lonely as that may sound, it's actually a very comfortable place to be. Comfortably numb. It's kind of like being underwater in a warm bath...but what happens when that water freezes? Tuesday's playlist: 1. U2 - All That You Can't Leave Behind (will it ever not be in the car??) 2. Elton John - Captain Fantastic And The Brown Dirt Cowboy 3. John Williams - Greatest Hits 1969 - 1999 4. Clay Aiken - The Measure Of A Man |
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Much of the success of the classes lately, I feel, has been because of some of the models that we've had. Thursday's model, Chen, was a young girl who wants to keep doing this. She was an extrodinary model; she possibly stayed the most still out of any model I've drawn yet. She had such a unique look about her; it was intense. The class was extremely quiet that night, all really coming up with some great stuff. I hope to draw Chen again. On a side note to yesterday's post: I think I've seen the low-point of the corporate world. There was a store in the Mall of America that had all these different TV related toys. Included in that store were, get this, Jesus and Moses action figures. They each even had accessories. Moses had the Ten Commandments. I wonder if Jesus came with a crown of thorns and special healing power? I'm not saying that I'm the most religious man around, but come on! Isn't anything sacred?! Can you see the commercials? Moses with Parting Sea Action! Burning Bush sold separately!! Jesus and Judas Battle Royale Dual Pack! Crucifixion Playset sold separately!! Good Lord. And for some reason, I didn't get a Ned Flanders vibe from these toys either. Un-doodlely-believable. The maul of America indeed. That's all for now; I'm fried. I need to veg out in front of the TV for awhile. Monday's playlist: 1. U2 - All That You Can't Leave Behind (in car) 2. Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash - Storytellers Live 3. Vince Gill - Souvenirs Currently blogging to - Madonna Drowned World Tour 2001 |
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On Friday night, Mark and I met up with Heather and her boyfriend Eric. They took us to a cool Irish bar that had a great Irish band. The Guinness went down quite well. It was great seeing Heather again; this being the first time that our mutual friends (how we met) weren't around. It was also the first time I met her new boy, who seemed really nice too. It was fun being around a group of people who all were really passionate about music, too. We spent much time bitching about the RIAA! They really made me feel welcomed. Minneapolis is a great city.
The drive there and back had quite possibly the most beautiful fall landscapes I've ever seen (although I tend to say that every year). The colors seemed to get richer and richer the closer we got to our destination. I felt like we were on some elaborate movie set or in some really intense painting. Thanks to my iPod, we listened to music the entire trip; mainly U2 on the way there, and a majority of Johnny Cash on the way back with some Willie Nelson and Neil Young mixed in. Their spirituality, pureness, genuine Americana, and unique voices really seemed to accent the golden landscapes as they flew by at 75 mph. On this gorgeous drive back today, I really could sense that we were deep in the heartland of the U.S., and that not everybody is so lucky to have this kind of nature around them. I felt a love for the Midwest that I've always known I've had, I guess, but seem to be constantly reconfirming. I can't imagine that just over a year ago, I was actually considering moving to the suburban jungles of Chicago. Many of my posts the past month or so have been about the beauty of fall, and I have a feeling that this weekend, the leaves were at their peak - the icing on the cake. Mother Nature can be an amazing thing. That's all for now.
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M.I.A./M.o.A. There's much I want to update on this website. I got another sketch last night that I'm excited about, a handful of photos to add to the photography section, and a few things to add to the about section. But instead, I'm just here to say that I'm leaving for the weekend. My friend Mark and I are heading west to the Mall of America. We both can be real mall rats when we want to be, so this is like the mother ship calling us home. I'm looking forward to people watching, visiting the Apple store (which is the real reason for this trip...perhaps that's the mother ship calling us), and just relaxing. I need to get away for awhile and decompress. While near MPLS, I'm also hoping to hook up with my friend Heather who I haven't seen in over a year (although thanks to Yahoo IM and both of our blogs, it doesn't feel nearly as long) and meet some of her friends as well. So for this weekend, the updates will have to wait. I'm really looking forward to the drive this morning (I think it's about 4 hours) as it looks like it's going to be another beautiful autumn day. The fall scenery around here has just been incredible, so hopefully it will follow us to the western part of the state. I've got the iPod charged, almost 8,000 song in the palm of my hand: we're ready to rock and/or roll. Have a good weekend. P.S. Special thanks to Splash for the wakeup call this morning. Have fun with your kickball game. |
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That has never been a problem with me. I've never had a time when I've not been inspired, when I haven't been flooded with great ideas. Very often, I lie awake at night, thinking about the next thing I want to do, the next video, website, painting, writing, run, etc. It never shuts off for me. It's almost a curse at times. No, inspiration has never been a problem for me. My problem has been motivation. I struggled tonight to sit my ass down front of this computer and write. What I wanted to write about wasn't an issue. I've got at least 6 additional posts in the back of my head that I'd like to explore at some other time. My problem tonight is just getting motivated to do it. After a long week at work and doing all laundy night, it would be much easier for me to sit in front of the TV and turn my brain off for the night. That's what I did for seven years before I started going to those art classes and created this website. I'm creative all day at work, that was my excuse at least, and it takes energy to be creative. I love drawing and I love writing - I feel honored to be blessed with so much inspiration - but for me to get in my artistic zone takes an incredible amount of energy. It's so very easy to get tempted by something completely passive, when I've been starring at a computer screen all day, wracking my brain. I struggle with motivation every day. It's been about 3 months now, and I still haven't finished painting my bathroom. At times, it's a huge challenge just to get out of bed in the morning and start a new day. Sometimes, just picking up after myself or making myself dinner is a huge chore. Many times, my lazy bones overcome my creative ones. It's a constant struggle. I wonder how many incredibly talented artists, singers, scientists, etc. are out there, who just can't get motivated. I'm sure they get constant inspiration all the time, but instead of picking up a paint brush, the cursed remote is easier to find. All the inspiration in the world can never win a battle against the same amount of excuses. I heard a statistic today that there are thousands upon thousands of blog sites out there these days on the web, and over half of them haven't been updated in at least 6 months. The greatest intentions coupled with all the inspiration in the world still can't motivate even the best of us. So, I have to wonder, which way would my time have been spent better tonight? In front of the boob tube watching Reno 911, or writing this? Wednesday's playlist: 1. The Lion King Soundtrack 2. Prince - N.E.W.S. 3. Emmylou Harris - Wrecking Ball 4. Neil Young - Harvest Moon 5. James Taylor - Greatest Hits 6. Eminem - The Marshall Mathers LP 7. Currently blogging to U2's Zoo Radio (internet streaming radio) |
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As I went for my run tonight, on this amazing Indian summer's night, my mind was a hundred places at once. I remembered seeing The Lion King in the theaters with Vicki, only a few short days after my grandfather died. I remembered the night Grampa died, it was a night much like tonight; the air was heavy with beauty, with the stars and the sunset. That night his presence seemed thick in the air; the song Across The Universe came to mind. Tonight, as I was running, I could sense his presence around me again, probably inside of me again. On Sunday, I gave my nephew Derick my VHS copy of The Lion King. His rave of the moment is Toy Story, which I gave him as well. In handing him The Lion King Sunday, I felt like I was giving him a part of myself...my favorite movie...something for him to grow up with, try to make sense of. Seeing just how into Toy Story he is right now, makes me realize that I've made my mark. And if I'm making that kind of impression on the boy with something like a movie, I can't imagine what my time and love will do. There was a moment when we were watching the climax of Toy Story. He cheered at Buzz and Woody, and started shaking with excitement, exactly as I used to do on Christmas morning. The circle is complete. Watching those few scenes in The Lion King earlier tonight and being embraced by the rainbow sky during my run, made me think about time and the legacy we pass on. When I reach the sunset of my life, what will I have passed on in the circle of things? What will my presence now mean to those I've left behind, to those that I've somehow touched, our society at large, and the planet where we all reside? Will those behind me look at my talents and feel like I've done my gifts justice? Will they look at my drawings as a map of times more innocent? Will they piece together some branch of some wild family tree? Piece together the past? Will they learn of stories of a time when I was not so different from them? Connect with some ghost? Connect with their self? Find some greater meaning? Will it cause them to pick up a paint brush, watch a sunset, or write down their thoughts? Having my nephews, seeing the effect I have on them, is the most amazing thing in my life. They are the greatest reward a person could ever ask for. I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like having my own children, seeing the impact I'd have on them. If I never have my own kids, I still feel like I will have done my part to pass on my legacy to a new generation, pass on my love. Only now, as I begin the third decade of my life, do I really understand the value of Grandpa and Dad's legacy, good or bad. Even the negative has a way of forming us into who we are today, hopefully in a positive way. Hopefully, Derick and Brett can look back someday and see the positive with their uncle Punkin: the guy who got them into The Lion King, the guy who taught them how to draw, the guy who they'll never forget. Can you feel the love tonight? Tuesday's playlist: 1. Madonna - Like A Prayer 2. Madonna - True Blue 3. The Rhythm of the Pride Land: Songs Inspired By The Lion King (incredible African choral music...inspiring to run to this evening) 4. The Lion King Soundtrack P.S. Is it ironic, as I finish this post about The Lion King, that I remember that this morning, when I got up to hit snooze on the alarm clock in the other room, that stepped in Anakin's hairball mess? Somebody as a sense of humor. |
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Growing
Pains The discussion board is easy to use. Initially, you will have to register and set up a profile to get started. After doing the initial registration, you will have access to the board. For each additional use, you may have to log in (although I'm not really sure about that detail yet). I've set up some discussion categories: one for general site comments, one for October journal entries, and one for my photography section. Within the October Journal Entries category (which will change each month), I will set up a different topic for each new post that I create. Within each of these topics, you will be able to comment as you do with any bulletin board. I will probably delete comments after they've been up for 30 days. You'll have to bear with me as I learn to use this software, as I'm sure changes and growing pains will be inevitable. As of now, though, it seems pretty solid. Please use this board to its fullest. Let me and others know what you think about the issues brought up in these posts, anything you have in mind, or bring up your own baggage if you have it in you. :) For private comments, I will still include an email link. Special thanks to Mark, who helped me (I should say actually did 90% of the work) to get this board working. Last night we worked until 2:00 a.m. to get this thing functional. When you're hopped up on caffeine looking at raw html source code, the littlest things seem funny. Then this morning, I spent a couple more hours this morning altering the appearance of it. It seems to be opperational now. Let me know if you have any problems. Thanks again Mark! I'm excited about this new addition. That's all for now.
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I'm currently reading Gerald's Game, by Stephen King. I'm about a hundred pages into it, and already there's a naked woman handcuffed to the bed as a starving stray dog is graphically devouring her dead naked husband. The details are so vivid, from the sounds of the fat human flesh being ripped off the bone to the thick syrupy description of all of the bloody gore. Again, it's so fucked up. I always wonder what goes on in the mind of Stephen King. What are his nightmares like? What kind of thoughts doesn't he share with others? How fucked up is this guy? This got me thinking to myself and my art. And how, I too, capture the dark, more depressing side of my life through my art. I'd say at least 80% of what I draw or paint, when I'm doing it from an emotional perspective (versus trying to capture a model's essence), is on the dark side. For some reason, it's much more difficult for me to capture love, happiness, or joy when I draw and am I'm being introspective. For as much as I love Derick and Brett, I've never been able to capture that love in a drawing or painting. When Derick was born, that was probably the best moment of my life, and yet, my mind was at a blank when it came to capturing that moment through my art. It's as if, for me at least, my art is a way to work through all the darkness, drama, and demons. I guess, it's what I use to purge myself of that grief, my way of dealing with things, making them make sense. The great things in my life, the love and all the light, I don't need to work out and exorcise from my body. Those are the things I want to hold on to, need to hold on to at times. The nature of art is a very peculiar thing. Art, in it's truest nature, I believe to be a truly beautiful thing. But I think it has an extreme dark side to it, a real cynicism to it, that the artists need to emote. When I think of my favorite movies, Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, it's all about dark evil forces. My favorite music all has a dark edge to it. I need to be able to feel something to experience it. I'm sure there are tons of artists out there, who deal with beauty and goodness. Hell, most of my photography is about that. I suppose that's what all the nice safe little Bob Ross type paintings we have above our couches or Anne Gettes baby art women hang in their bathrooms is about. But now I sense a tangent coming on.... I'm reminded about conversations I've had with people about Lennon vs. McCartney, Elvis vs. Johnny Cash, Darth Vader vs. Luke Skywalker. These days, darkness has an edge to it that people seem to easily identify with. Whether it's Dark Side of the Moon, The Stand, or something on G-Man Ink, I guess we can use other people's darkness as a way to cope with our own (or to be distracted from it??). That's all for now. Comments? Currently blogging to: Sinead O'Connor - She Who Dwells In The Secret Place Of The Most High Shall Abide Under The Shadow Of The Almighty G P.S. I might add, that last night Splash and I also watched a few moments of Xanadu. Possibly the worst movie ever made, which is hard for me to say, since I've always had a special place in my heart for Olivia Newton-John (something about those black pants she wears at the end of Grease). Another, truly fucked up movie, but not in that good way. So let me get this straight: Olivia N.J. is a muse on rollerskates who sings all the time and does the occassional duet with Gene Kelly? Who thinks of this shit!?
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Valid
Once again, we went out for margaritas after class. This time, the model, Eutimo went out with us. I couldn't figure out what his deal was. He was a nice enough guy, I guess, but at first he acted like he was a college student, just old enough to be at a bar, but then later on, he said that he was 27, and nobody knew ever could guess his age. I got the weird sense that he was trying to playing us, if you ask me. Or he was just kind of weird. Mara and I had an interesting conversation. We were talking about our griefs in the dating world...how much it sucks to be single at this time in our lives. Being single in your 30s in this day and age, is a really odd thing. In your 20s, dating is much more casual, much more relaxed. But now, there's almost a weird sense of urgency that goes with it. Women have the whole biological clock thing going on, forcing them to find a mate, if they want to have a baby. With my last real relationship, I remember her feeling like I was dragging my feet (which I'm sure I probably was). I think she felt like the time spent with me, if it wasn't moving fast forward, was a complete waste of her time. In your 30s, people don't want to, nor can they, feel like they're wasting any precious time. There's no time to spare. That mentality, that blasted race against the clock, adds a whole new dimension to the world of relationships. As Mara and I were sharing our complaints, I realized that Eutimo (27 or 22 years of age) couldn't relate to a single damn thing that we were talking about. That's the first time I really felt old...of a different generation...from the college kids of today. He must have been listening to us, thinking how fucked up we are, how fucked up these old people must be. Oh well... So last night, I got a cool sketch that I'm pretty happy with, reacquainted myself with my art friends, reconnected with my artist self, and had some really interesting conversations about art, dating, life, love, God, etc. There's something special about margarita night. Friday's playlist (high production mode today at work, listened to lots of music): 1. Dido - Life For Rent (see post below) 2. Sting - Sacred Love (this is my first purchase of legal mp3s off of the iTunes Music Store. Very cool! It's a kick-ass cd, too. I haven't been this excited about a Sting album in almost a decade.) 3. Tracy Chapman - Let It Rain 4. Johnny Cash - American IV: When The Man Comes Around 5. Allison Kraus - Now That I Found You 6. Sarah McLachlan - Fumbling Towards Ecstasy 7. Sinead O' Connor - I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got P.S. Hopefully this weekend, I can get some work done on this site, and get a bulletin board up and running. Coming soon!
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Renter's
Insurance "I haven't
ever really found a place that I've called home It's just a thought, only a thought... If my life's
for rent P.S. Be sure to check out the September archives. I've been blogging more and more each month. Later. I have to go to bed.
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Warning: Children At Play
Spilling Our Guts
We've been doing this for
the past five or six years now, and it's really quite nice having
this little get-together late every October. What was once a
few adult friends with a new baby has somehow evolved into two
young families growing and going through life, along with a few
of their single friends, also going down life's path. As one
of the single guys in this party, it's heart-warming to watch
the families change and grow through time. It's a wonderful feeling
being accepted into these families with such open arms.
It's
great getting together each year like this, as it's such a reminder
of how much some things in life change, while other things...some
of the fundamental things... seem to stay the same. I remember
when the first of the babies became part of the group. It was
so interesting watching the new parents and the beginning of
their new family. Now, there are four young ones in the
group, and their individual personalities change the mix as much
as the unique ones of the adults (I use the term "adult"
loosely, as I've seen more animated movies with these adults
than I have with actual children.).
With Love
Gray Meulomans
Every
artist that I talk to uses their art primarily as a means to
vent, to release some type of energy. It's a way of escaping
from things, losing ourselves. It's a way to go within ourselves,
find that special thing inside that let's us connect with some
other intangible element of our lives, whether it's God, spirituality,
nature, sex, etc.
Truth Or Dare
Big Fat Stupid Idiot
(KWYIJIBO)
The Things We've
Handed Down
Hakunah Matata (or What Would
Walt Disney Do?)
After
pictures, I was still pretty tense. I needed to draw in the worst
way. When our model, Maricela showed up, I was just floored.
She had to be one of the most beautiful women I've ever drawn.
But
then as we started our final drawing, which goes for about 90
minutes, I totally tensed up. I struggled for the first half
hour. After my first attempt, I turned the page and started over.
I erased my second attempt completely. By my third try, I was
thinking of calling it quits. In my mind, it was just pure shit.
I could sense my anxiety from the week coming back, practically
mocking me. After about half an hour or so, we took a break.
I looked at my piece and was completely disgusted with myself.
How could I be letting this, my release from things, get to me?
How could I allow my shitty week at work creep into my art? It
actually pissed me off a bit. There's no way I was going to let
all the priorities, politics, and problem solving as a Product
Design Specialist get in the way of my personal life after hours.
Especially not with my art. You can't pay me enough.
No text today. Just love
and music. In that order.
Frozen
Inaction Figure
The
classes seem to be getting better and better each week. It's
as if the energy in the room keeps mounting, as the attendance
in the class keeps building. There's a lot of regulars showing
up each week, and our passion, struggle, and commitment to the
art is quite intense. I'm beginning to feel quite comfortable
with many of the people in the class, and feel a real kinship
with them. It's so great being around that group of people, that
type of people, people who can relate and understand to
how and why I see things the way I do. I am envious and inspired
by their passion and craft.
Road Trip
Heather
spent some time in Ireland this past spring, so we have much
to share where that's concerned. There was a point in the night
that we were talking about the driving conditions in Ireland.
I had my Guinness, was listening to some great Irish music, and
felt like I was in a pub, not a bar. Some frat-looking
guys walked in, and my first thought was "What are those
Americans doing here?" For a split second, I actually felt
like I was in Ireland. That was a great little feeling to have.
Living In A Van Down By The River
The Circle Of Life
The Dark Side
I.D. Required