You're my boy Blue!

I thought to myself, I'm going to have to write a long drawn out reply, so why not make it a post? A comment from this post:

Anonymous said...
[One last point...some art CAN be incredibly beautiful and have no other meaning except for the fact that it exists.] This is the purpose of art, for the purpose of only existance is there are. I do agree that some art has other purpose but the main point in the world is to be there, to exists in a way that it just simply does. I don't agree with you on... [but I still think an artist should work on being confident and understand what they are saying with their art.] at the point when you said that you became oxymoronic because earlier you stated [A visual artist supposedly chooses visual art as a form of communication because it one of their best ways to communicate. If speaking was the best way for the them to convey their feelings, then perhaps they wouldn't be doing visual art.]make up your mind... cuz you never know if you'll be able to explain yourself/art to any random person on the street if you were put it on the line.
- anonymous

Here I go with something much less than a well thought out paper...

So, When I say something is just there to exist, I think of paintings by painters such as Rothko, Twombly and Pollock. They seem to say nothing, no new perspectives on the world, no little insights. They paint huge canvassas with what seems to be nothing in mind except to create a mood, perhaps there is some elements of composition and color...sometimes not. I believe that some of these pieces are beautiful, but I don't believe these pieces are trying to explain to me how corrupt and blemished American history is (ideas from the Million Man March artist). I don't believe these pieces could ever transmit this kind of information to me, thus I believe it would be BS for them to try to get me to believe so.

So, is it true when you say that arts purpose is to exist? I should think about this...because I'm not sure, maybe if I could understand what art is actually that would help.

Ok, where I become oxymoronic...good catch, I thought about that a little when I wrote it. I thought it would seem dumb for them to go through the trouble of being able to verbally communicate what they are saying with a piece of art...because if they were able to do that, then why is there art in the first place. To clarify though seems to take me to several different places with tangents splitting off in several different directions.

1. Should an artist be able to communicate their art through language? I think they should, off the top. At first glance it seems that language would be more universal that art, a larger majority of people in the world speak than create "art." It seems to be the common denominator. But language is a representation in symbols of feelings as well. If I say to someone in English that I feel sad, not everyone in the world will understand. If I paint a picture of myself tormented in a sad face, I think a larger portion could understand this. So with that, it seems like art is the common denominator...a better "language"...thus, why would I think that "art" needs to be explained with language? That doesn't seem right anymore, so I'm thinking I'm wrong here.

2. Why does an artist ever decide to try to explain their art? I believe first and foremost that art should be created solely for the artist. So now I'm wondering, is it art when an artist creates art for someone else? Like a client. But going back a bit to art not created for anyone but him or herself, why should an artist ever be compelled to want to explain it? Is it some sort of PR? Is it an attempt to sell out? Is it simply that they are happy that others want to know about their art? Why would an artist care? Is it neat that others are finding enjoyment out of something that created enjoyment for the artist? It is great to know this, but why would people ask about the art? The art is there, any extra information about the art seems to be an attempt to enhance or take away from the piece...why would a viewer do this? Why do we do this? I know I'm guilty too. Shouldn't the art just be there, take it or leave it? Shouldn't the art be giving you everything that you need? Asking for more information almost (at this point) seems to be disrespecting the artist and the art. So, why would an artist want to explain to someone these things if they aren't grasping on to it in the first place? Now I'm thinking that there is something wrong with an artist that tries to explain the work.

3. For myself, I want to be more honest in my work. If I decide to talk about it, then I want to be able be as honest as possible with my explanation. If my art means nothing, then say so. If I made a mistake and it came out right, never take credit and say it was purposeful (tho, I don't remember ever doing that anyways)... but I have felt proud of mistakes and I think pride should be dropped as well. This leads me to wonder, like I did before, why then am I communicating something through art if I'm able to communicate it through words? Are there are things that are better communicated with art than with words? In that, there seems to be a solution of sorts. Moods, ambience, abstractions...the way blue makes me feel. If I paint a huge canvass with different shades of blue...let's say an abstract painting of only blue, with no real forms within the painting. What could I say about it? If I were honest to myself with the painting and understood what it was that I'm feeling...I can't explain to anyone the exact feelings...I could tell them though that I like the way these different shades go together, that they make me feel calm, maybe that they remind me of the ocean, but in the end, the most honest answer is just that I like blue. I can explain what I am doing with the painting, but I did not communicate the meaning of the painting through language...nor did I try.

Well that feels good! Just another step closer to understanding why the hell I'm alive for. Thanks -anonymous.

Not available

I just want to say that I like the internet. I can't say why right now...or probably ever, but it's nice to know that I know why I like the internet. Or whatever. Whew...anyways.

I'm tired...this weekend made me tired. But things will be good...they will be good. I picked Falling Away With You by Muse this week over at emtheory2.com...I think all will enjoy.

Err...I didn't really have much to say, but I wanted to say something, so I sat here and said something, even though it really was nothing. Now I'm going to go lay down, watch an episode of The Office and drift uncalmly off to sleep...thinking that Jim should really tell Pam what he thinks because we all know what should happen and that is that.

Shouldn't real life be like this? Nah, then it wouldn't be fun...because walking over hot coals IS fun, right?

I'm Only Sleeping

Ok, I love my iPod. It is by far the best 300 I have ever spent in my life.

2 nights ago I put my Beatles collection on it (complete with the album picture covers) and crawled into bed to enjoy a few tunes. With the "Raven_2" on random, Golden Slumbers started playing. I wasn't in the mood to get depressed so I pushed next. I Am The Walrus started playing.

Wow, this is a very great discovery.

Both songs start off with the exact same two notes (and more). Somehow I've never noticed, wow. If someone knows that I'm wrong...please let me know. I went back like 10 times to make sure I wasn't crazy, and I'm pretty sure I'm right.

So my question is: Did Lennon know that he did this?

Pee Double U's

Today I went to Pei Wei and had some Honey Seared Chicken. It was good. I heard once that it was frozen Americanized Chinese food...that really doesn't surprise me. But you know what? Sometimes even McDonalds is good.

Ok, maybe I will

What is this unforeseen force that is forcing me around with their jedi mind tricks? Or maybe it is just that I wanted to post a post thru the air for the first time. Yep, I'm typing on a laptop (and the wirelessnessism is flipped into the on position). And with that, I wonder, what is the big deal with having a badass computer? This is a 128mb ram, 500mhz, wandering wireless wonder and it works perfectly fine for me. Which bring up a thought...my first computer was a laptop...and typing poetry on it way late at night was how I learned how to type. But whatever.

I'm listening to "That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore" by The Smiths right now...and I like it. Just thinking that I think it is weird that I am in this time warp in which I'm into all of this mellow underground 80's music lately. What? Perhaps this goes along with the life I have been living recently. I haven't posted in a while (or what feels like a while) because I simply haven't had the urge...or the time really. It kind of freaks me out that I feel like I have no time and I'm only taking one class. What if I were taking more?? (The real question that is nagging my head at this juncture is whether or not I'm an idiot...but I don't really feel like getting into that right now, I'd rather ignore my ignorance)

I feel like I'm in the clouds right now. I stopped by Greenspoint Mall today for some Brother's Pizza. These NIN lyrics came to my head while I was there: I hurt myself today to see if I still feel. Those are cheesy lyrics, but still...why was I there? Because as sucky as ABX was, I miss some of my friends there. I wanted to feel it again, I wanted see where I was today in comparison to where I was when I worked at ABX. I wanted to see if I have moved on, if I have learned anything from the last few years. As I was getting back into my car, I felt a slight bit of depression from the things that were around me back then. As I fought to stay above and see the good in where I was now, I grabbed onto a "now" that was hardly recognizable. "Now" is like some strange parallel universe...memories from my past jumbled up and thrown at me in some strange mixture. Like mixing up PBJ in a bowl and trying hard to taste different flavors uniquely. Memories of this last summer...or even things a few months ago seem so far away.

This experience of a parallel "now" hasn't been a bad thing. In fact, it seems good so far. It's kind of like getting a chance to set past mistakes right. The one and only example I'll give here is my re-attempt at UH. The first time I tried was in '98. It was a bust, I checked out without even seeing what my grades were. I'm back now and I will score nothing less that an A in my only class. Being on the campus is weird, what was I thinking about the first time I was there??

One million dollars

I was listening to KUHF today at work and I was listening to this artist talk about his work. He had taken a picture of the Million Man March and apparently put a bunch of overlaping words at the top of the picture. As I was listening to this guy talk, my boss and I quickly realized that this guy is totally BSing about the meaning of his work. The interviewer asked something like, "So why are all these words at the top of the picture? Because to me it seems like there are too many and the clutter of it is taking away from the meaning of your photo?" The "artist" responded by saying something like, "Well...America's past is cluttered and that was what I was trying to make a point of."

BULLSHITE!

My boss and I blew up in laughter the second he finished his sentence. Come on man, perhaps you took a great photo, but don't blow it by pretending you did something to cover up your lack in artistic ability.

I also hate it when artists start off answering an interviewers questions with, "Ummm..." Why is there an "Ummm..." there for? I believe any line after an "Ummm..." is an unsure and unmeaningful peace of crap explanation for what they did. I mean, when someone asks your name, what do you say? "Ummm....well...Michael...at least that was what I was going for." No way.

So, my lesson for today...if I ever have to say "Ummm..." about my artwork then I wasn't sincere in producing it.

Funny, haha

I forgot that I turned on comment moderation...in turn, I didn't realize I have to publish the comments myself. I started wondering what was going on when my peeps kept on saying that they had written comments and I wasn't seeing anything. Duht.

Getting the milk

Ya know, I really dig it when I find out that I'm really not THAT selfish. I like it when I see that my mind can really wrap around another human being and feel honest compassion for them. I am surprised at my ability to make sacrifices that I thought I never would.

In another words, you know it is real when...

1. Your brothers protect you even when they don't agree with what you are doing.
2. Every day that goes by, you actually think your significant other is better looking than the day before. Gaining weight, getting older seem to very strangely have no effect on how you see the beauty in that person.

Going back to Utah?

What happened this week? Whew.

1. I'm going back to Cali, to Cali...no, not really. I'm going back to school tho. UH, Art History of Africa, Oceania, and Americas. "Behind every mask is another (or something like that)."

2. I'm going s*o*b*a*d*n*! I am not completely sure of that quite yet.

3. Forget it, there are too many things that I would love to say here, but this week has been too personal.

It has been a good week.

Err.

After today's bike ride, I thought about what I said last. Saying that I get depressed because "things are never perfect in this world" seems like a horrible cop-out. It's more like this: I get depressed because I don't get my way. I never get my way because even when it is good (like it was today) I still act like a baby because I don't want to deal with not being perfectly happy...I don't want to deal with not being able to make everyone around me feel perfectly happy. I feel ashamed because I want a fairy tale story. Geez, I am embarrassed, but for that anonymous person out there, I'm more real.

Society will make it thru

I went to sleep at 8 last night. I woke up temporarily at around 11:30. At 6 this morning I woke up realizing that I had already had about 9 and half hours of sleep. This should be plenty and while I was trying to get myself up, I fell back to sleep. At 8 my alarm clock went off. I got up, fixed some breakfast and read a letter written to me. I felt depressed because things are never perfect in this world. When I get depressed, I get sleepy. I went back to sleep and woke up at 11. After something like 13 and half hours of sleep, I finally feel refreshed and happy.

Your Hand In Mine

Found this on the internet...from the movie "Friday Night Lights"

Coach Gaines:

Well it's real simple: You got two more quarters and that's it.

Now most of you have been playin' this game for ten years. And you got two more quarters and after that most of you will never play this game again as long as you live. Now, ya'll have known me for awhile, and for a long time now you've been hearin' me talk about being perfect.

Well I want you to understand somethin'. To me, being perfect is not about that scoreboard out there. It's not about winning. It's about you, and your relationship to yourself and your family and your friends.

Being perfect is about being able to look your friends in the eye and know that you didn't let them down, because you told them the truth. And that truth is that you did everything that you could. There wasn't one more thing that you could've done.

Can you live in that moment, as best you can, with clear eyes and love in your heart? With joy in your heart?

If you can do that gentlemen, then you're perfect.

I want you to take a moment. And I want you to look each other in the eyes. I want you to put each other in your hearts forever, because forever's about to happen here in just a few minutes.

I want you to close your eyes, and I want you to think about Boobie Miles, who is your brother. And he would die to be out there on that field with you tonight. And I want you to put that in your hearts.

Boys my heart is full. My heart's full.

Frustration

This year will end up much different than how it started. There seems to be things that will burst because they can't stay the way they are for any longer. I can't say it any simpler than this: It is time for my family to grow up.

My brother says he can just turn it on when he feels like it is time, I ask, why not now?

Theme 1: Frustration

Ironically, I got frustrated when I was trying to convey ways out of frustration. The conversation got excruciatingly detailed. Down to the point where we looked at frustration as two separate experiences. 1. The initial flare up of a frustrating situation and 2. What we do with that frustration. But for this post, I figured, I should look up the word frustration. Maybe it can give me further insight...

1. To prevent from accomplishing a purpose or fulfilling a desire; thwart.
2. To cause feelings of discouragement or bafflement in.
3. To make ineffectual or invalid; nullify.

The example we were using tonight was this: Suppose you were on a two lane road, you were in a rush, and you got stuck behind two drivers driving ten mph too slow.

The dictionary.com definitions make sense here. If I were stuck behind these drivers, my accomplishment of getting where I want to be is being thwarted. I would feel discouragement and I would be baffled as to why these drivers are driving so slow. Am I ineffectual or invalid to my purpose if I am stuck behind these drivers? Maybe to my boss, date, doctors appointment, etc.

I think frustration is ineffective in itself. I think it is useless. And in the middle of negotiations (Beatles lyric), my brothers brought up the idea that only Jesus could possibly endure this situation without frustration. We then were quick to point out that even he was not immune (hmmm...). "We are not perfect, so why should we expect to be?" I hate it when this is an argument. We should always strive to be perfect! This is what I've admired in others before, and despised in even more.

Regardless, I had a hard time imagining that I could ever get over the initial flare up of most frustrating situations. I want to believe that I could, but I just don't see it. So the other part of frustration is whether we decide to stay frustrated or if we find an option. It was argued that we cannot control that either. But I disagree wholly, I think finding an out is what gives us peace. I'm not talking about being passive necessarily, I'm talking about attempting to find the best approach to any given situation. If being aggressive, fighting, etc is the best...then by all means, kick ass. Of course, if it is your last option.

Perhaps with the right amount of practice in controlling the reaction from that initial frustration (thwarting of purpose, discouragement) we lose that first flare up as well. You could possibly see the situation formulating, take the necessary steps to prevent the frustration (or even the situation) and an inner flash point never occurs.

Music / Money

So, I was inspired by a friend's blog to make a favorite song list from 2005. I didn't want to because I like recognizing only 1 song for the year, it seems to make that song more important. This list is subjective and the songs are not required to have come out in 2005...they just needed to have been important to me over the course of the year.

10. Right Here - Staind
09. Easy Skanking - Bob Marley & The Wailers
08. City of Blinding Lights - U2
07. One Step Closer - U2
06. Baby Bird - The Wallflowers
05. Plainsong - The Cure
04. Mad World - Gary Jules
03. Your Hand In Mine - Explosions In The Sky
02. The Only Living Boy In New York - Simon & Garfunkel
01. The Trapeze Swinger - Iron & Wine

So many good songs this year! Album of the Year goes to Explosions In The Sky with The Earth Is Not A Dead Cold Place.

Anyways, this gives me an opportunity to say that I started a new blog. It is a side project, I'm still keeping my main band together tho. emtheory2.com. It's a "for fun" blog devoted to conquering the world with the music we love. If anyone happens to check it out, go easy on me, I just starting learning how to design in WordPress.