Please forgive the spelling or grammar mistakes in this one. It was pretty much stream of consciousness typing, and I didn't want to publish it initially, but after writing it, I thought it could make a good post for me to re-read in the future for pondering.
Yesterday, I was trying to relive a fond memory, or at least trying to create a pleasant composition based on past memories and associations which I had found pleasurable. I found a concept art piece last week of a sort of space ship, but one which appeared to be a commuter or mass-transit low altitude vehicle, at least, that was what I imagined it could be. A bulky but functional sized vehicle, perhaps the size of 4 buses stacked 2 x 2 together. I loved it, and I could imagine it would exist, the boarding of it, the sitting down in the hard cushioned blue seats, the gray cold exterior, but crisp in the morning air outside, but smelling the filtered temperature controlled air inside, which obviously would attempt to smell clean, but would have the hollow wafting air of artificiality, and a hint of electricity and possibly even exhaust in it. Thinking about the 'for show' sections of the interior, with their modern minimalist solid paneled walls and florescent white ugly lights, as well as the dark mechanical underbelly areas underneath, and these contrasting visuals in the concept by Sparth ( https://scontent-lga3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/t31.0-8/s960x960/14524377_770231409785393_7425291933892374974_o.jpg ) somehow were fused together on the exterior beautifully... Something about it reminded me of boarding a bus for a day trip, with the raised seats which feel like a mile above the road outside, OR more to the point of my immediate desire to return to the Baltic -- boarding the many large tour buses in the cold mornings... AND also of riding the double-decker train on NJ transit, which my sister and I got to experience while travelling to the New York Comic-Con yesterday.
I had my coffee. I had my crisp cloudy morning. I had my music, specifically "Sad Machine" by Porter Robinson, which reminded me of the Anime conventions Sarah and I used to go to, as well as Comic-Con, because of its synthetic sound, the robotic vocals, and the epic melody, and finally... I had the train. Upper floor, no less. While it was pleasant... something about it just didn't sync. The imagined hazy nature of the experience was... better than the actual experience. And it isn't to say I'm not grateful. It was wonderfully pleasant, and to tell you the truth, it was the highlight of my day... more on that later. But the key here was that I had a sort of... feeling, and atmosphere, which I yearned for. The EXPERIENCE. And, as rare in life as these things can be, I actually quite quickly, and even had planned... that very experience... minus the sci-fi alterations.
What was it about the experience that left me wanting?
It makes me wonder, if our lives aren't all about the destination. The culmination of preparation, or even the joys of HAVING the experiences we want. Our lives are about ... that feeling we wish for in our heads, keeping it sacred, imagining it, and I suppose REMEMBERing... that THOSE thoughts, those wishes are actually the pleasure. The joy. The anticipatory bliss.
But if this is the case, where the wanting is the good part. Then what am I to do about my current living situation and interests?
The Comic-Con itself was another one of those, 'omg, I'm going to be in bliss when I'm there'... but when I actually get there, it's not... as good. Maybe it was my mood or something, but I remember last time I went to Comic-Con. I loved getting my coffee from one of the vendors for $6.... and then wandering Artists Alley. This wasn't exactly what happened this time, but then again, I didn't intend for it to be the same. Instead of getting the coffee there, I bought it before we got on the train, and it wasn't Starbucks, it was WaWa, which was still good coffee... but that meant I didn't have it on the art-room floor... so I wandered instead with my achy shoulder-bag. Another difference was, I ran into Dan Luvisi last year, as well as a couple other unknown artists whom I actually was pleasantly surprised at having discovered. Not so this year. Dan wasn't even there, nor did I discover any artists which really spoke to me. I ended up wandering the place for the 8 or so hours we were there, in shoulder pain, tired legs, and a kind of 'bleh' melancholy at every geek thing I was seeing. I was ready to go home halfway through the day.
This of course made me question my own interest in even having gone there. If I could be in a room with over 3 hundred artists (even though most were comic panel or cover artists), other fans, my health, and access to all the advice in the field of professional art in the world... and not be happy or even excited as hell?.... what kind of artist am I?
Again, perhaps it's the imagination of the BEFORE which I find the most pleasurable... but that's like saying someone is on a Star Trek holodeck, actually experiencing something... and blind/immobile me only hearing about the experience. Is that enough? Is that what our satisfaction is supposed to be derived from? Imagination?
Well no, there is another component to this conundrum... and that is the UNKNOWN. The chance encounter, the pleasant discovery.
My fond memories of this experience... were derived from a few things. A) the song "Sad Machine" discovered accidentally sometime last year. Not even AT ComicCon or associated with anything to do with it. B) The accidental discovery of that concept art last week, which made me anticipate the very train-ride in the first place... and C) Last year's Comic-Con experience, when I wandered through Artist Alley with a cup of coffee, feeling on top of the world, and seeing art, which at the time interested me... However, the artist alley was a bummer for me this year, due to not finding anything or anyone, which and whom (quite literally) didn't speak to me.
Which makes me think it has nothing to do with imagination, but the joy of memory. Yes I IMAGINE what I would do eventually, but the real pleasure is in the combination of these factors swimming around my memory banks, issuing a feeling of joy as they spring up here and there.
Another example: I love coffee, and I love the Nespresso machine, but what joy does it provide me?... I don't necessarily like the taste of many of the pod-coffees, although sometimes I am pleasantly surprised... But what I love is the anticipation of it, really... the BEFORE.... after I finish a cup, I'm left wanting, but it's too late to have another, lest I'm ready to stay up all night. This... joy isn't necessarily built on a memory of joy, but the anticipation that I will actually be transported by the coffee, and while coffee does create a sort of high, which I find amplifies the joy of other situations, it never lasts, and I know this... So my addiction is kept to a controllable cup a day.
But what about the grander occasions of life... a wedding... maybe not the immediacy of having a child, or even directly after, since those are massive joyous times, or so I gather. Because it's all anticipatory. The wedding is perceived to be a blissful day where everything goes right and even God himself comes down to bless the marriage... Does the day itself not feel like a blur of yeah this is great.... everything IS perfect..... or not.... and I'm exhausted.... or the CHILD.... the baby has MASSIVE potential, and one wants to hold onto that thought ITSELF becomes a memory, and we spend our childs' lives maintaining that perfect potential in our heads... regardless of the drugs, promiscuity, or even murders a child may commit. Of course that is a bit extreme, but the principal still stands... we uphold the child of our heads because we LOVE them... we love the memory of imagining the potential of them. :P
Maybe some day, our experiences will just BE perfect without even a memory to usher them in... or maybe we're supposed to create new experiences every day, and true joy is found in the memory of those times... and we have to remember that those good times WERE the bliss... and can never be had again, at least in the same exact recipe'd way.
Friday, October 7, 2016
Thursday, September 1, 2016
First Layers
Beginning with two coats of clear acrylic medium, I set the pencil lines with a protective layer, separating them from the color layers painted above them. Last night, I went at it for the underpainting. Throwing greens, blues, purples, even orange down in some spots, splashing my way to some idea of dimension, space, and color temperature:
I'm still not entirely sure of a few things, namely the sky. I know the setting of the piece is obviously a non-specific fjord of Norway, and I know the sun plays an important part, however I am not sure what the exact time of day will be. The sun will be casting rays to the right-side of the piece, and for some reason (and probably because I've seen too many Bierstadt pieces) I want browns to play an important role in the piece, which would likely place the time as evening. Though, from all of the photo references I've been collecting so far, I am seeing Norwegian Fjords possess mostly blues, greens, and grays, even in the evening. Usually, it is too cold for yellow haze and humidity.
Then comes the problem of subject matter. Trolls, at least in the majority of myth, turn to stone when caught in the suns light. I would follow this bit of lore... but I honestly don't care. If anything, we can logically point this as the trolls waking from their day absence... to begin roaming the mountains a little early this evening. The vikings, in my mind... accidentally happen upon the three visible trolls, while on a sail up a Fjord. What happens next is up to the viewer.
I'm still not entirely sure of a few things, namely the sky. I know the setting of the piece is obviously a non-specific fjord of Norway, and I know the sun plays an important part, however I am not sure what the exact time of day will be. The sun will be casting rays to the right-side of the piece, and for some reason (and probably because I've seen too many Bierstadt pieces) I want browns to play an important role in the piece, which would likely place the time as evening. Though, from all of the photo references I've been collecting so far, I am seeing Norwegian Fjords possess mostly blues, greens, and grays, even in the evening. Usually, it is too cold for yellow haze and humidity.
Then comes the problem of subject matter. Trolls, at least in the majority of myth, turn to stone when caught in the suns light. I would follow this bit of lore... but I honestly don't care. If anything, we can logically point this as the trolls waking from their day absence... to begin roaming the mountains a little early this evening. The vikings, in my mind... accidentally happen upon the three visible trolls, while on a sail up a Fjord. What happens next is up to the viewer.
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Vikings and Trolls and Projectors - OH MY!
Since our family trip to (of all places) the Baltic Sea last summer, my mind has been opened, and I've become a bit of a Nordophile. It is my intention to return to Norway at some point in the future because... the Fjords are calling me.
About a month ago, I'd been giving into sitting in isolation for 10 or 20 minutes at a time, trying to come up with an idea for a painting... which never works, BUT after one such session, after again unsuccessfully perusing the brain for any scrap of an idea or compelling combination of ideas, I turned, as one does... to YouTube. Browsing, viewing, clicking... I happened upon Rick Steve's Europe series, most episodes of which if you're interested, happen to be view-able for free through YouTube.
I began to watch his exploration and tour highlights of the city of Venice, which gave me some ideas, but nothing spoke to me in that episode ... for Venice. It was in the viewing of the great Italian city, which reminded me of my love for travel, and also my past trip. While having not seen the actual grand and breathtaking Fjords of the Western Coast of Norway, I nevertheless had my idea. I would make a large love-letter piece to Norway.
As far as inspiration, I fell into a desire to make an epic Fjord landscape view, with dramatic lighting, a Viking ship, and even... trolls in the distance. The piece would mimic the work of the Hudson River School landscape painters of the 1800s, with their use of texture, space, other-worldly light.
I immediately ran out and bought a large 36" by 24" canvas... which sat wrapped for a few days... then a few more... Finally, I tore off the plastic wrap, and stared at the pristine primed white canvas. I knew where I would put it in the house, and I knew it had to have a fancy ornate frame to compliment the Hudson River School visual I was going for, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to sketch on it... Paralyzed with fear, I took to the Surface Pro 3, and sketched, and erased, and sketched. A few nights later, I colored it, fleshing out a scheme that pleased me. But there was still a hindrance, a block from touching the canvas itself.
A co-worker and friend of mine enlightened me to the possibility of using a projector. I realized, this might be an expensive investment, for such a little step in the process (I would only use it to trace the general layout and shapes, and would fill it in later). But I made the leap.
Soon I had a small pocket-sized Phillips HDMI projector, and was able to use it to quickly trace the general composition from the Surface Photoshop document onto the canvas with pencil. It sure beat drawing a grid to transfer (as I've woefully done in the past).
The lines are faint, but that's where I am today...
The next step I suppose will be to fully render-out the details in pencil, indicate some major lights and darks, and once finished with that, I will take a cue from Donato Giancola and lay on a clear coat of acrylic, setting the pencil, but also providing a thin base which will allow the white of the canvas to peak a bit through the acrylic underpainting, as well as the layers of oil paint I put on later.
I'm still vexed. Do I have the strength?
UPDATE EDIT :::: (8/27)
I reworked the composition a bit, with a hint more depth in terms of lines, direction, and a hint more detail. The trolls were gargantuan, so I reduced their size a tad (in looking at photo references of fjords, I'm beginning to see how they are actually more vast and wide and... tall than I had even originally assumed, even 80 foot tall trolls would be dwarfed by the landscape). I also added some large moss-covered, and... troll-moved rocks on the right-hand coastline.
About a month ago, I'd been giving into sitting in isolation for 10 or 20 minutes at a time, trying to come up with an idea for a painting... which never works, BUT after one such session, after again unsuccessfully perusing the brain for any scrap of an idea or compelling combination of ideas, I turned, as one does... to YouTube. Browsing, viewing, clicking... I happened upon Rick Steve's Europe series, most episodes of which if you're interested, happen to be view-able for free through YouTube.
I began to watch his exploration and tour highlights of the city of Venice, which gave me some ideas, but nothing spoke to me in that episode ... for Venice. It was in the viewing of the great Italian city, which reminded me of my love for travel, and also my past trip. While having not seen the actual grand and breathtaking Fjords of the Western Coast of Norway, I nevertheless had my idea. I would make a large love-letter piece to Norway.
As far as inspiration, I fell into a desire to make an epic Fjord landscape view, with dramatic lighting, a Viking ship, and even... trolls in the distance. The piece would mimic the work of the Hudson River School landscape painters of the 1800s, with their use of texture, space, other-worldly light.
I immediately ran out and bought a large 36" by 24" canvas... which sat wrapped for a few days... then a few more... Finally, I tore off the plastic wrap, and stared at the pristine primed white canvas. I knew where I would put it in the house, and I knew it had to have a fancy ornate frame to compliment the Hudson River School visual I was going for, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to sketch on it... Paralyzed with fear, I took to the Surface Pro 3, and sketched, and erased, and sketched. A few nights later, I colored it, fleshing out a scheme that pleased me. But there was still a hindrance, a block from touching the canvas itself.
A co-worker and friend of mine enlightened me to the possibility of using a projector. I realized, this might be an expensive investment, for such a little step in the process (I would only use it to trace the general layout and shapes, and would fill it in later). But I made the leap.
Soon I had a small pocket-sized Phillips HDMI projector, and was able to use it to quickly trace the general composition from the Surface Photoshop document onto the canvas with pencil. It sure beat drawing a grid to transfer (as I've woefully done in the past).
The lines are faint, but that's where I am today...
The next step I suppose will be to fully render-out the details in pencil, indicate some major lights and darks, and once finished with that, I will take a cue from Donato Giancola and lay on a clear coat of acrylic, setting the pencil, but also providing a thin base which will allow the white of the canvas to peak a bit through the acrylic underpainting, as well as the layers of oil paint I put on later.
I'm still vexed. Do I have the strength?
UPDATE EDIT :::: (8/27)
I reworked the composition a bit, with a hint more depth in terms of lines, direction, and a hint more detail. The trolls were gargantuan, so I reduced their size a tad (in looking at photo references of fjords, I'm beginning to see how they are actually more vast and wide and... tall than I had even originally assumed, even 80 foot tall trolls would be dwarfed by the landscape). I also added some large moss-covered, and... troll-moved rocks on the right-hand coastline.
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
Minecraft v Painting
OKAY!...
Now that the sugar-lack withdrawal (since I gave it up for 2 weeks) RANT is out of the way, let's get down to business.
Creativity.
How best is it expressed for me?
I'm of two minds at the moment: MINECRAFT -or- PAINTING
To describe why this is a dilemma for me, let's look at each one-by-one.
MINECRAFT has been one of the most fundamentally life-altering happenings I've had in my life. In the fall of 2011, I was visiting my college-friend Stefan at his home, and he desired to show me this 'awesome new game' which he had recently purchased. Via the computer, he showed me a 3-Dimensional world, where you could fly, build, and even function in, using a vast variety of materials. Being a die-hard LEGO fan from childhood (who wasn't?), didn't quite know what I was looking at, at the time. Sure I thought it was amazing, if a little comical (the use of retro-looking simple pixels wasn't entirely off-putting, but was definitely different, given the modern age of gaming). I had to go home, download it myself, and realize its full potential, which didn't take long. Soon, I was building skyscrapers into the side of mountains, building places I'd had in my dreams, even including my sister in on the fun, and all before Christmas that year.
At this current point, I am on a public server, and interacting with several other players, most of whom I sadly assume to be somewhere on the other side 21, and I'm finding they are enjoying my skill set, even commissioning me with in-game payment to build them hi-rises, fancy lighthouses, or even cathedrals.
I have to stop.
While some might call it sad or interesting, like an alcoholic, something is calling me to stop cold-turkey. Here's why:
PAINTING (as well as drawing) until 2011 had been MY craft and outlet. I'd forgotten what it meant to express my inner-world that way until a couple months ago, I went back to NJ for Father's Day, as well as to visit my work-office. There was a going-away party for one coworker, and as one of the activities of the day, we had an in-office paint-party. I being a somewhat experienced artist kind of deviated from the methodical paint-and-sip composition, and ended up painting my most complete painting of the past 6 years:
I gave it to Mom. Love you Mom.
But there was something about creating something tangible. Something you could walk around that wasn't in a virtual environment. Paintings give radiant light and color, which makes seeing one in the flesh a surreal experience, compared to the daily viewing of photos and/or paintings on the computer. Not only that, the painting process that night left me with such an other-worldy experience. I was on fire. The others in the room probably felt it too. Hours passed, but I didn't care. I started at 5, and when I looked down again, it was 9pm. The same happens with minecraft, but after I log-off, or shut down the computer. I'm left feeling somewhat fulfilled, but... sad. Painting, like a gorgeous piece of music, leaves a resounding echo of fulfillment and a certain excitement that can't be put into words, other than, I. MUST. CONTINUE!...
Minecraft is my addiction. My drug. It leads to instant gratification. It's also rather unhealthy. While during painting, one might be standing, moving around, stepping back, and being generally aware of time, and one's surroundings, while the mind may be preoccupied. Minecraft, like INCEPTION is being trapped, pulled into a dreamlike box outside of the real world. And when that happens, the mind is fed tremendously, but the body suffers just as much.
I've gained weight from all the sitting. At this age of thirty and three, gravity is not my friend. Sometimes I don't see the sun for an entire day.
It has to stop. I have to change.
Not only that, I have a tremendous desire to REIGNITE the fire that painting brings. Though, and it is with a certain regret that I fear I've altered my creative process. Minecraft, of course, speaks to me in obvious ways. Building 3-dimensionally, and with a program BUILT for the fantastic realm is right up my alley. And painting, while I would create the same subject, might find it difficult to render, or get right in the 2-dimensional frame. Sometimes I think it is that challenge which Minecraft lacks, which makes painting all-the-more fulfilling.
While I have tried to do both, I think the true way of finding my painting voice again is to hit pause on Minecraft. Not indefinitely, but for a good long while. Perhaps, in time, I won't even need it anymore, as the painting hobby might take off in new and perhaps even lucrative ways.
The time has come to close the laptop, and dust off the paint brushes.
Now that the sugar-lack withdrawal (since I gave it up for 2 weeks) RANT is out of the way, let's get down to business.
Creativity.
How best is it expressed for me?
I'm of two minds at the moment: MINECRAFT -or- PAINTING
To describe why this is a dilemma for me, let's look at each one-by-one.
MINECRAFT has been one of the most fundamentally life-altering happenings I've had in my life. In the fall of 2011, I was visiting my college-friend Stefan at his home, and he desired to show me this 'awesome new game' which he had recently purchased. Via the computer, he showed me a 3-Dimensional world, where you could fly, build, and even function in, using a vast variety of materials. Being a die-hard LEGO fan from childhood (who wasn't?), didn't quite know what I was looking at, at the time. Sure I thought it was amazing, if a little comical (the use of retro-looking simple pixels wasn't entirely off-putting, but was definitely different, given the modern age of gaming). I had to go home, download it myself, and realize its full potential, which didn't take long. Soon, I was building skyscrapers into the side of mountains, building places I'd had in my dreams, even including my sister in on the fun, and all before Christmas that year.
In the almost 5 years since, I've built things with Stefan on his personal server, built things with other people on public servers, and even built things with my former boss. Yet all of them, at least my close friends seem to share a passing interest in it. Fleeting even. Through these 5 years, I was the one who remained. While they enjoyed the game's intricate puzzle, its unique flavor and even the functional aspects of the program for several weeks, a couple months at most, I always remained behind in the virtual environment, building castles, temples, cities, churches, even weathered ruins of buildings that never existed prior in a state of over-grown decay, like Leonardo DiCaprio's character and his late wife building an entire dream world in the film INCEPTION.
At this current point, I am on a public server, and interacting with several other players, most of whom I sadly assume to be somewhere on the other side 21, and I'm finding they are enjoying my skill set, even commissioning me with in-game payment to build them hi-rises, fancy lighthouses, or even cathedrals.
While some might call it sad or interesting, like an alcoholic, something is calling me to stop cold-turkey. Here's why:
PAINTING (as well as drawing) until 2011 had been MY craft and outlet. I'd forgotten what it meant to express my inner-world that way until a couple months ago, I went back to NJ for Father's Day, as well as to visit my work-office. There was a going-away party for one coworker, and as one of the activities of the day, we had an in-office paint-party. I being a somewhat experienced artist kind of deviated from the methodical paint-and-sip composition, and ended up painting my most complete painting of the past 6 years:
I gave it to Mom. Love you Mom.
But there was something about creating something tangible. Something you could walk around that wasn't in a virtual environment. Paintings give radiant light and color, which makes seeing one in the flesh a surreal experience, compared to the daily viewing of photos and/or paintings on the computer. Not only that, the painting process that night left me with such an other-worldy experience. I was on fire. The others in the room probably felt it too. Hours passed, but I didn't care. I started at 5, and when I looked down again, it was 9pm. The same happens with minecraft, but after I log-off, or shut down the computer. I'm left feeling somewhat fulfilled, but... sad. Painting, like a gorgeous piece of music, leaves a resounding echo of fulfillment and a certain excitement that can't be put into words, other than, I. MUST. CONTINUE!...
Minecraft is my addiction. My drug. It leads to instant gratification. It's also rather unhealthy. While during painting, one might be standing, moving around, stepping back, and being generally aware of time, and one's surroundings, while the mind may be preoccupied. Minecraft, like INCEPTION is being trapped, pulled into a dreamlike box outside of the real world. And when that happens, the mind is fed tremendously, but the body suffers just as much.
I've gained weight from all the sitting. At this age of thirty and three, gravity is not my friend. Sometimes I don't see the sun for an entire day.
It has to stop. I have to change.
Not only that, I have a tremendous desire to REIGNITE the fire that painting brings. Though, and it is with a certain regret that I fear I've altered my creative process. Minecraft, of course, speaks to me in obvious ways. Building 3-dimensionally, and with a program BUILT for the fantastic realm is right up my alley. And painting, while I would create the same subject, might find it difficult to render, or get right in the 2-dimensional frame. Sometimes I think it is that challenge which Minecraft lacks, which makes painting all-the-more fulfilling.
While I have tried to do both, I think the true way of finding my painting voice again is to hit pause on Minecraft. Not indefinitely, but for a good long while. Perhaps, in time, I won't even need it anymore, as the painting hobby might take off in new and perhaps even lucrative ways.
The time has come to close the laptop, and dust off the paint brushes.
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Resetting the Mind
I'm going to quote an old friend of mine, from a thought she posted yesterday morning on Facebook:
"I have never found myself so lost, professionally and personally, and have no idea what to do, or where to go. How did i ever get here? How do i get out? And how do i sort out this whole happiness/satisfaction thing? And courage...I could use some of that, too."
This thought, whether divine placement, or just an example of the general haze of millennial confusion, which many of my peers have and which I just happened to notice and resonate with, happens to be a fine example of my current state as well.
Many feelings have arisen this past week alone, feelings of bafflement and even hopelessness. In light of the impending US Presidential election, I watch the news, peruse the Facebook feed, various news websites, and even the coverage of the Olympics. I've come to the conclusion that so much of what we see is obviously put in front of us on purpose, usually by someone with a large wallet. There is no free speech anymore. What you see is not the official news. It's news that has been skewed to get money or votes from the general population.
I watched a short clip of "Adam Ruins Nutrition" not too long ago, and while this may or may not also be propaganda, it certainly seems to create a compelling anti-establishment view of how even our breakfast cereals aren't as nutritious as we hear them to be.
I first knew there was something wrong when viewing various television commercials in High School or college. Being brought into the world of Marketing through the major of Graphic Design, I began to see how companies can make the most horrific product, Mickey-D's Chicken Nuggets, for example... into works of art through tonal lighting, proper photography or film composition, and careful wording... when in reality, ... they say (heh)... Chicken Nuggets aren't even made from true healthy chickens, but instead are made from mutant flesh creatures, genetic monstrosities created in a lab, with the flavor of chicken added in for taste... some without heads, etc.
I'm very affected by this, emotionally, if not spiritually. I'm haunted by horror movies at the very fact that people's minds come UP with the ideas presented in the films or TV shows. The sociopath tendencies of the two major candidates running right now... just freaks me out. I can't watch a movie anymore based in reality. I've turned to High-Fantasy (minus Game of Thrones), Science Fiction, and old-style horror instead, namely the weird creature horror fiction from the mind of H.P. Lovecraft, but also the mysterious and compelling "Stranger Things" series from Netflix.
It may sound like a giant cliche, but I debate turning it all off. No Facebook feeds, no news with subliminal messaging. Just silence. The glorious silence of the mind at play.
I'm a painter who doesn't paint. Perhaps if I block the onslaught of corrupt media, I'll be better able to contact my inner voice again. The voice of my creative child, the one starving to death in the bowels of my mind, with old broken toys and empty oil tubes.
There are truly beautiful things in this world. Things the news never covers. Things I probably never have heard of. I need to get out of my routine, get outside and purposefully seek these things out. Perhaps unlike my friend and my current state, I'll find a sense of happiness and satisfaction, whether in my art making, my work, new friends, or even food and nutrition.
Happiness and satisfaction are only found through God, I believe. And God is not fake chicken, xenophobia, super-delegates, or high-fructose corn syrup. God is in determination, personal strength, fresh air, and puppies. God is in creation, not destruction or walls. God is in truth, beauty, freedom, and above all things... love.
"I have never found myself so lost, professionally and personally, and have no idea what to do, or where to go. How did i ever get here? How do i get out? And how do i sort out this whole happiness/satisfaction thing? And courage...I could use some of that, too."
This thought, whether divine placement, or just an example of the general haze of millennial confusion, which many of my peers have and which I just happened to notice and resonate with, happens to be a fine example of my current state as well.
Many feelings have arisen this past week alone, feelings of bafflement and even hopelessness. In light of the impending US Presidential election, I watch the news, peruse the Facebook feed, various news websites, and even the coverage of the Olympics. I've come to the conclusion that so much of what we see is obviously put in front of us on purpose, usually by someone with a large wallet. There is no free speech anymore. What you see is not the official news. It's news that has been skewed to get money or votes from the general population.
I watched a short clip of "Adam Ruins Nutrition" not too long ago, and while this may or may not also be propaganda, it certainly seems to create a compelling anti-establishment view of how even our breakfast cereals aren't as nutritious as we hear them to be.
I first knew there was something wrong when viewing various television commercials in High School or college. Being brought into the world of Marketing through the major of Graphic Design, I began to see how companies can make the most horrific product, Mickey-D's Chicken Nuggets, for example... into works of art through tonal lighting, proper photography or film composition, and careful wording... when in reality, ... they say (heh)... Chicken Nuggets aren't even made from true healthy chickens, but instead are made from mutant flesh creatures, genetic monstrosities created in a lab, with the flavor of chicken added in for taste... some without heads, etc.
I'm very affected by this, emotionally, if not spiritually. I'm haunted by horror movies at the very fact that people's minds come UP with the ideas presented in the films or TV shows. The sociopath tendencies of the two major candidates running right now... just freaks me out. I can't watch a movie anymore based in reality. I've turned to High-Fantasy (minus Game of Thrones), Science Fiction, and old-style horror instead, namely the weird creature horror fiction from the mind of H.P. Lovecraft, but also the mysterious and compelling "Stranger Things" series from Netflix.
It may sound like a giant cliche, but I debate turning it all off. No Facebook feeds, no news with subliminal messaging. Just silence. The glorious silence of the mind at play.
I'm a painter who doesn't paint. Perhaps if I block the onslaught of corrupt media, I'll be better able to contact my inner voice again. The voice of my creative child, the one starving to death in the bowels of my mind, with old broken toys and empty oil tubes.
There are truly beautiful things in this world. Things the news never covers. Things I probably never have heard of. I need to get out of my routine, get outside and purposefully seek these things out. Perhaps unlike my friend and my current state, I'll find a sense of happiness and satisfaction, whether in my art making, my work, new friends, or even food and nutrition.
Happiness and satisfaction are only found through God, I believe. And God is not fake chicken, xenophobia, super-delegates, or high-fructose corn syrup. God is in determination, personal strength, fresh air, and puppies. God is in creation, not destruction or walls. God is in truth, beauty, freedom, and above all things... love.
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