Thursday, January 12, 2012
It's now a new year, 2012, and I've come back to my blog to find I haven't written a damn thing in over 3 months. *I'm letting out a disappointed sigh* To be honest, it's not surprising to me, but it is sort of a personal let down to know I haven't written or done anything creative, really, in that long. I think about how uninspired I've been, and how consumed I can be with the limitless bullshit that life throws at me, and I think to myself, "How did I get here?" <--- Yes, that was a Talking Heads reference, in case you didn't catch it. And, unlike previous posts where I've set goals for myself to write here more often, and usually to no avail, I will spare myself the planning and just take this one in particular for what it is, and hope that this year I become more and more inspired even living in a place I've already deemed tragically uninspiring. Yes, San Diego, I'm talking to you. However, I believe I need to remember two things: 1. Remember one of my favorite quotes, "Life has taught me not to make too many plans, and even if I do, not to say them out loud." and 2. I've grown up/live in a place many people dream to live, and if I continue to take it for granted, I will continue to be discontent. Simple as that.
With that being said, and since this is a goddamn art blog, I want to share with you something that has been particularly inspiring to me this week. It's an old friend actually who I should have written about years ago (and I think I'd meant to, but you notice my track record), Ian Ross. I met Ian doing art shows in a variety of venues when I lived in San Francisco. He's a live artist, living in Mill Valley, and kicking ass currently in the art world. It's been pretty amazing seeing him grow as an artist, and I feel proud to know him as a friend. This week he was in sunny, SD for a new event called "Artists at Work" that's started this month at OMA. Turns out my friend Tara Smith organized this event and kismet have it, Ian was the first artist to be featured. Small fuckin' world, eh? It's been a great week catching up with Ian, meeting his new fiance, seeing his work again in person, and greatest of all--feeling reminded of a life I used to live that was inspired by and truly revolved around a passion for art and its artists. If you have a chance to be influenced in a major way by a very hard working individual, check out Ian's artwork and follow him as he continues to make huge moves and create even more amazing projects. As always, his art is for sale, and I'm sure he'd appreciate you buying it! ;-)
All that said, it's been an awakening I hadn't expected, but is coming at an opportune time as I try and start 2012 with personal progress, passions, and change. <---- Not an Obama reference, but similar idea. . .I guess. . .hopefully more successful. . .
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
I wrote this in June, right after I got back from Barcelona. I believe I had intended to post it on the blog I was writing for at the Museum, but this was probably also around the same time they shut us down. So, here it is, out of hiding.
"Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’ve been M.I.A. from the blog for a little while. Reason being: I was in Barcelona! If you can remember a while back I had inkling to check out the Catalan capital, and my premonitions proved true. After a lot of fish-like, flip-flopping back and forth on whether it was a good time for me to go, I decided to buck up and take my flight. I travelled a good 15 hours by plane to Barcelona, Spain, solo again, and arrived there for my two week Spanish trek. If you’re familiar with Spain at all, you will know that it is very serious about claiming their artists as their own. So when I got there, there was no mistake that the likes of Picasso, Gaudi, Dali, and Miro had their roots in the city of Barcelona and other regions of Spain. Being an Art History major, I was pleased with this. Though, Barcelona had its not-so-finer points -- one being their not-so-welcoming attitudes-- I took comfort in the thought that there was still familiar personalities around me, those being of the artists I’ve studied in the past. Walking around the city I found myself interested in not just the museums, galleries, and institutions that preserve these artists work, but also the more contemporary connections that people are currently making with the artists. There was a lot of street art that portrayed or referenced different works, mostly Salvador Dali, around Barcelona and even parts of Granada, Spain. I came across a protest in a plaza in Barcelona (a common sight) that also referenced Dali’s work, and they were calling for an end to the death of the arts. Also in Barca, there was a high-fashion “pop-up” shop conveniently located next to one of Antoni Gaudi’s wild architectural creations, “Casa Batllo”, whose clothes, though most likely unintentional, seemed to channel the crazy color and gaudy pattern combinations that Gaudi’s work often does. In Granada, I attended a flamenco show in a small cave called “Le Chien Andalou”, which referenced the surrealist, short-film created by Salvador Dali and Luis Bunuel in 1929. I also found out that popular bands such as the Pixies and David Bowie have also used this film in their work—Pixies used “Un Chien Andalou”‘s content as lyrical material and Bowie actually showed the entire 16 minute film at the opening of his world tour shows in 1976 because “he felt that the film would more appropriately set the tone for the evening”. I guess what I’m getting at is that it was more exciting to see these artists being portrayed in a contemporary manner, by current creative-types who admire their work, rather than just seeing their work in stagnant museum spaces. "
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
I'd like to start keeping this blog afloat again. Not only can I not stand the idea of my dusty thoughts hanging out, rotting, in cyber-space, but I can't stand my fresh ones getting lost in the labryinth of my brain lobes. If anything, using this tool to track, organize, and distribute the things I come across will be mostly beneficial for me, and hopefully for anyone else that comes across this space or is featured in it. Well, alright, with that being said. . . . hoo-rah! I'll (hopefully) be back soon with something more interesting to say. Laaaterrr.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
ArtUncovered: Notes from the Front Desk: Our Inner Psychologies ...: "Here are my two cents on Wes Bruce and Ms. Augustine Greane; because I know you’re just dying to hear what I have to say! Sitting up..."
Thursday, December 23, 2010
ArtUncovered: These are a Few of my Favorite Things. . .: "Can you hear Julie Andrews now? The holidays are upon us, and we all know that it is better to give than to receive. Or, in my case, it’s t..."
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
People get ready. . . I've been hired to blog at my Museum, so I figure I'll post those blogs on here too. Feel free to follow here: http://artoperation.blogspot.com/ if you want to view the posts that the Museum Director and the Curator are posting as well.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
I have zero interesting thoughts. The only thing I can think about is how edible the color of my nail polish looks. Which, by the way, has chipped faster than any other manicure I've ever gotten and I think the asian lady did it on purpose. Because I have this theory that all asians who do my nails are conspiring against me. Mostly because I have no idea what they're saying in front of me and it makes me nervous, and smile nervously, and nervous smiles don't look good on me. Neither does chipped paint.
Chipped nail paint doesn't look good on anyone, especially when you're looking for a job and meeting future employers. I know because it happened to me today. I went in to fill out an application today at a country club, and this asian man (go figure) was the one to help me. I got really uncomfortable because I think that asians have a radar that is sensitive to shitty nails. Like mine. I hope he doesn't judge me for this. I'd rather him judge me for the fact that I checked "Yes" on the "Have you ever committed a felony or misdemeanor" question, not for my hell hands; because, you know, everyone has had a DUI, but raptor claws are unacceptable when you're applying for a job in the food service industry.
Anyways, enough about asians. My stomach is starting to hurt from the thought of MSG.
What's really important right now is the fact that my best friend introduced the term "meat curtains" to me last night. This girl has an unusual knack for talking about the most inappropriate things at the most inopportune times, but somehow she always makes it sound hilariously intriguing and almost intellectual. Almost. Anyways, don't ask me how we got onto the subject, but I thought it was amazing the fact that some men, and apparently women, refer to the vagina as "meat curtains". I once heard a friend of my ex's tell me that his girlfriends vag smelled like beef tacos, so I guess this term isn't completely off the wall. I'm not sure what a meat curtain looks like but I'm assuming that its fleshy and such. . . but the question remains at what level is the meat cooked, because Im sure girls have different colored vaginas? Something to ponder.
On a healthier note, I'm drinking wine right now. I saw on the Today show that drinking a glass of wine or a shot of booze or a beer a day is good for you. I'm still having one hang-up though, and that's the fact that she said "one". . . I'm going to go ahead and re-work this a little to be ONE bottle, because it seems more reasonable to me. And my health. . . mostly my sleeping patterns.
Let's see. There's really not much else to say, except I have a bad case of "Post-grad Syndrome" and even though I have a college degree I'm still a failure at life. The whole college education thing was only cool for like a month and a half. . .then people start to forget what you've accomplishe and think you're a loser again. To quote my good friend Amy's favorite quote, " I don't want to make money. I just want to be wonderful!" Whatever that means. . . you already think I'm wonderful though, right? Right?
This post has no relation to art things whatsoever. Fuck it. I do what I want.