Entertainment

This is a compilation of violent scenes from films. This video is meant as a rhetorical critique regarding the amount and varying degrees of violence being filmed as a means of entertainment. I wonder if a violent scene, even if used with purpose (as, ironically, was my intent for this very video!), serves nothing but to perpetuate and encourage violence itself. I wonder what it says about the state of our society that we not only view these films, but encourage the production of them.

Be advised that this video is extremely violent, watch it at your own discretion.

The following is an excerpt from a previous discussion with a friend…. there is far more and this friend did punch many, many holes in my argument, but I will just post a general glimpse of my inner confusion in relation to this topic.  I do not know what to think, but I do know that I do not think violence in film should be banned.  That said, after making this video and thinking about it, I am not sure if I would ever myself create a certain type of violent film…. or watch and be blindly entertained by violent films in the same manner.  The research that went into the creation of this video made me physically sick. 

I think a problem with cinema, in general, is that it portrays people in black and white, good and bad… and once somebody is “bad” it is somehow okay to smash their head in with a baseball bat. Isn’t it a little odd that often the “good guy” kills far more people than the bad? You don’t think there’s something wrong with applauding death, no matter the circumstance? Furthermore, I think their is a transference of those ideals to everyday life; black and white, us and them, and i think that is dangerous, because it gives “us” justification to kill, an obvious example being war. I’m sure you and I aren’t pro-war, but the fact is nevertheless wars occur. I love that you trust people, but I don’t know if I do, so much around me says otherwise.

It seems that the nature of film encourages us to give more credence to the reason than the fact. Is that right or wrong? I don’t know, but it’s interesting to me…. our evaluation of reason will constantly change, but what is will never leave us. 100 years ago people truly believed that segregating First Nations people into reservations, and filtering their children through residential schools would help ease our cultures together…. now what do we believe? All I know is that it is true that killing is wrong, and if I show it, even if I believe my audience will know better, even if I believe my intentions just, I will never escape the fact that I am showing it.

Just because something is fantasy, it does not mean it cannot affect us or affects us less. Ifanything, I believe it can affect us more! Because as we enjoy these things we absolutely let our guards down. For example, there are hundreds of stories in the bible, parables, that are clear cut fantasy, yet people obviously take those lessons to heart; a metaphor can be more powerful than fact. Further yet, the creator is a person in himself – what does it mean when people choose to fantasize about things like, for instance, “Natural Born Killers?” Is it okay that we are giving people a way to express abusive behavior? Just because you would never do these bad things we see, and I know you never would, is it okay to laugh/be entertained by it? What if somebody is entertained by watching simulated, fake, staged child pornography, is it okay for them to watch that under the condition they would never act on it? How about that genre of extreme torture porn?

There are many examples of children and adults directly emulating behavior on television and cinema. In Norway two children beat another child to death, it was later found that they did so because they were trying to be like the Power Rangers! In the U.S. a teenager shaved his head, and killed his parents after watching “Natural Born Killers.” John Hinkley, an adult, shot Ronald Reagan to impress Jodie Foster, or rather, a character she played in a film (Taxi Driver). You can say that these people are screwed up to begin with, but that is like saying people will kill anyway, why restrict gun access? Furthermore, these instances, and there are many more, are directly inspired by violence in film. That is, I believe that if said violent films did not exist, these specific cases would have never happened. My dilemma is – what happens if I make a violent film, and I find out that somebody, somewhere, killed another directly because of my film? Am I really going to say they would’ve killed somebody, someday, anyway? How could I forgive myself? I know I can’t live life being afraid of the actions my choices might incur on others, but I also can’t make blind choices. It’s a delicate line, I don’t have an answer.

Their was an interesting study I just read about – basically, it analyzed crime rates in the United States, Canada and South Africa between the years 1945 to 1974 when South Africa did not have television whereas both the United States and Canada had television. His results concluded that the homicide rate in the United States increased by 93 percent [and] in Canada the homicide rate increased 92 percent. In South Africa the homicide rate declined by 7 percent. I mean, there are so many things that point to violence in media as a definite problem. Am I going to disregard that, because its not a problem for me?

Critical Review – Stephen Waddell, Contemporary Art Gallery

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”
-Scott Adams

Today I ardently stumbled into Stephen Waddell’s show at the Contemporary Art Gallery.  Considering my  glorious mood (sarcasm intended), I was pleasantly surprised to find myself basically alone.  It was just me and the art. I went in knowing very little about Stephen Waddell or his practice, only having glimpsed briefly a few of his photographs.  I wasn’t excited, but I also wasn’t apprehensive, which, perhaps is the best state to be in when viewing something; alone and without care.  That doesn’t sound very appealing, but I assure you it’s meant to be.

Considering I later found out that the show was intended as a sort of retrospective, featuring many of Waddell’s earlier works in order to give perspective to his more recent ones, I fortunately stumbled into the room full of his earlier works first.  Initially, I was overwhelmingly unimpressed; the first thing that caught my eye, fittingly (I’m a film student), were two super 8 videos being projected on to a couple of walls (at right angles to each other).  So I sat down and let myself watch these videos; one was a series of people, shot from behind, unknowingly being followed, the other a long, over-cranked shot of a person with a shirt over their head, just sitting.  Both were interesting in a voyeuristic way, but made me feel empty.  Being I wasn’t particularly in the mood for empty, I continued around the rest of the room, a series of photographs and paintings.  Although, I couldn’t have cared less for the paintings (in my opinion, lazy Impressionist imitations), I must say the photographs did strike me.  They were beautifully composed, yet the content found within seemed, well, “found;” it felt like street photography, but it did not look it.  I found myself staring at these photographs, and losing myself in a kind of visually beautiful voyeurism.  I had never associated something aesthetically beautiful, or, in fact, any beauty at all with voyeurism, so I was pleasantly surprised to find myself having a somewhat unique experience.

This was a good introduction, or warm up, leading into my exploration of the second room, full of Waddell’s more recent work.  Thankfully, there were no paintings here, just an array of physically large photographic prints.  Each single print was colorful and vibrant, beautiful, yet still contained that voyeuristic element.  I found myself entranced, I have always believed in the magic of life, of the random, of the small, seemingly ineffectual things, and here I saw parts of that feeling captured.  Most of the photographs were mundane snapshots into stranger’s lives, for example, a photograph of a woman, looking and walking away, half obstructed by an out of focus tree.  Or a picture of a man simply fishing.  I found myself questioning, curious, as to whether or not these scenes were constructed or directed, but the question concurrently seemed rhetoric; somehow I absolutely knew they were not.  It’s strange how you can look at a photograph and tell whether the subject is conscious his or her  picture is being taken or not, even if only by their posture. 

Interestingly, the piece that struck me most was the only one devoid of people.  I wonder if this says something about me?  Anyhow, the photograph (which can be seen below), is titled, “Pile,” and is basically, well, a pile of of waste.  This photograph struck me for two reasons, the first being that my first thought upon seeing it was, “there will never be a painting as beautiful as this.”  I don’t now agree with that statement, but that’s what I thought at the time.  My second realization was that if I had seen this scene in real life, I most likely would have been disgusted by it, or at least felt impartial.  Essentially, Waddell has succeeded in forcing me to look at something in a completely different way.  

It is fascinating to me how the photograph of something, or rather, the representation, irregardless of medium (film, literature, whatever), somehow transfers purpose, meaning, to it’s subject.  Even me, just writing this review here, rather than telling you how I felt face to face, seems somehow more poignant.  Something always seems inevitably lost in the articulation, but at the same time found, and I think that is one of the things that intrigues me most about art.  There is something about the translation of reality, that almost insubstantial place, that seems so insurmountably far removed – and because it is far removed, that much more profound.  Perhaps that is what grabbed me most about Waddell’s photographs – he has captured the everyday and removed it from the everyday, giving frame to the mundane.

“Life is the art of drawing sufficient conclusions from insufficient premises.” Samuel Butler

 

 

ihappy: 17 degrees. Spread the Happy. Mobility Game.

“Happiness is not a destination. It is a method of life.” -Burton Hills

I recently found myself in a truly tragic dilemma.  I was the owner of not one – but TWO ipods! oh me oh my oh woe.  So I thought to myself, “myself, two must become one,” and I set out making it so. 

I decided to sell my ipod, but, almost simultaneously, I decided to give away any money I received.  Now, mind you, I am not inordinately rich, I honestly could’ve used the money… but what’s money?  I needed hope more.  I was tired of complaining about all the wrong things in the world, I was tired of bitching and whining and moaning… I wanted my life to be more about “the doing” than “the saying.”  I needed to believe that people could still be good, and it had to start with myself.

So I sold my ipod for $160 and decided to share what I earned with 16 strangers ($10 each).  But I wanted to do more than just give, I wanted to share the spirit of giving….. and I wanted a glimpse into these peoples lives… I am always fascinated by how beautiful people are whenever I get the chance to talk to them individually (not so much in groups, haha).  So, starting with myself, I asked each of these people to do 4 things for me:

1. Name something, anything, that they loved (the idea for this question was mercilessly ripped from someone else’s bleeding literal heart, or rather, mind. I claim no ownership.).
2. Play a group game called “Eat Poop you Cat.” Basically, the first person, me, writes down a phrase, then passes it to the next person.  That person draws a picture based on said phrase. They then pass the drawing on to the next person, and that person writes a phrase based on the drawing (without any knowledge of the original phrase), and so on until the game ends. 
3. Name the first song that comes their mind (you can find a playlist of all these songs to the right [in the sidebar] under a heading “sharing is caring.” You may download these or listen to them here. [perhaps as you look through the pictures? ])
4. Choose someone else to give $10 to.

I’m really happy I did this.  There’s really nothing more to say, I’m just glad. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Ericsson San Pablo Chu

1. Love. Giving. You.
2. I am not young enough to know everything.
3. Woman – John Lennon

Robert Gagnon

1. My 3 Children: Kyla Dawn Gagnon, Dion Lionel John Gagnon, Rebecca May Gagnon
2. See picture above (I will post scanned higher res versions of each page later).
3. I’ve Got Friends in Low Places – Garth Brooks

Robert was the first person I met willing to do any of the things I asked. I think most of the people I asked prior (mind you, I was only asking a certain ‘type’ of person… someone I thought needed the money) were weary of finding someone else to give $10 to.  Interesting – I faced a similar dilemma earlier in the process…when I was first trying to sell the ipod.  My original idea had the buyer picking the first person, but no one responded to my ipod ads for a good cause (I even put up posters).  So I just sold it regularly and picked the first person, Robert, myself.

Anyway, before I met Robert, to be honest, I was on the verge of giving up.  I got off the skytrain at Stadium, depressed that no one was willing to take a moment out of their lives to do a good thing.   I have no idea why I got off the skytrain, I didn’t have to go anywhere near Stadium, I was sitting there, and I was just like, don’t give up, get off, maybe something will happen.  So I got off. 

I was walking down the sidewalk, moping, and I saw Robert walking the other way, he had his cap out, I wasn’t sure if he was asking for money or not.  haha, so I followed him.  After a minute, I saw him ask someone for change, so I marked him.  He looked back at me at that instance, and, I feel, was kind of freaked out, because, obviously, I was following him.  I am not a good detective.  So I caught up with him, and told him everything, and he agreed readily to play along.  I was so depressed when I first talked to him…I was scared to ask him to find someone else to give $10 to.  I was resigned that maybe I should just ask people to answer some questions and draw stuff.  But our conversation led to me suggesting it (finding someone else to give $10 to), and he did so gladly.  Thanks Robert! 

What I most remember about Robert: Robert loves Bruce Lee movies.

Juniper (A.C. Abbott)

1. Animals, the sun, love
2. Swings in the spring, on grass so green
3. The Walk – The Cure

Juniper was probably the nicest, sweetest person I had a chance to talk with.  She was just so full of life and happy go lucky, so willing to talk and inquisitive.  haha, when I first talked to her, I was still scared that she wouldn’t agree to help me find another person to give $10 to, so I didn’t mention it (thinking Robert was one of kind). But she asked me questions, and our conversation eventually revealed my hope, and she did so with vigor.  She was running around chasing people!

What I most remember about Juniper: her hippiness and her french fries.

Bo Buckland

1. My Wife, Christa
2. See picture above (I will post scanned higher res versions of each page later).
3. Stairway to Heaven – Led Zeppelin

Bo was the guy Juniper chased down.  He was a pretty willing, fun guy, he reminded me of some kind of Grandpa. He told me a funny story about how every day of his life he has managed to find a 10 cent coin.  What can I say? Fuck yeah. 

What I most remember about Bo: his red cart.

Christa Buckland

1. My son, Rocky
2. Swing set in spring.
3.  a Horse (Ride a Cowboy) – Big and Rich

Christa is Bo’s wife, Bo led me to some kind of apartment building, and I waited downstairs for them.  Around this time Robert found me, and told me excitedly that he had found another person.  I said, okay, he said he’d go get her and galloped off.  Bo came back down with Christa, we talked for awhile, then some lady came down from the apartment and told us to to get away from the entrance or else she would “spray” us.  She doesn’t see me initially (I was behind the door), but Christa’s just like, “I’m doing a survey!” and gets kind of pissed off, I say lets just move over a bit, and everything’s okay.  Christa’s nice and all, but a bit out of it, I think she is on drugs, or on the tail end of some kind of hit.  But I tell her to smile, and our conversation is nice.  She introduces me to her friend Ralph…

What I most remember about Christa: huge range of emotions.

Ralph Edward Clarke

1. My family
2. See picture above (I will post scanned higher res versions of each page later).
3. Rock & Roll – Led Zeppelin

Ralph, like most of the guys from here on in, was pretty quiet and reserved. As I talk to Ralph, I overhear Christa and Bro discussing pooling their money and doing something after. I am not exactly sure what, but am slightly saddened that perhaps I am fueling some drug deal.  But I figure that somewhere down the line, my $10 will go to them buying a bed or food, and let it be. 

What I most remember about Ralph: his eyes. They were very, just, quietly aware.

Vi Cardinal

1. Self
2. Stick-Man (Definition)
3. Heaven and Hell – Black Sabbath

Vi was very sweet, and smiled a lot, she was very cordial and pleasant to talk to.  She reminded me of Juniper except a bit older, and a little more reserved.

What I most remember about Vi: her laughing to herself as she wrote down, “Self,” and later, “Stick-man (Definition)”

Mick

1. Music
2. See picture above (I will post scanned higher res versions of each page later).
3. Purple Haze – Led Zeppelin

Mick had a lot of one liners, but was generally straightforward to talk to.  He was always just kind of chuckling to himself almost self-deprecatingly. He gave me some jewelry he found on the street! I think its fake, but my friends a jeweler, so I will ask her… I’m hoping its worth something! If it is, I will give everything away again! haha.

What I most remember about Mick: I could never really see his eyes.

Sarah

1. My Jonnie
2. Go where your celebrated, not tolerated. I’d rather be hated 4 who I am then loved 4 who I am not.
3. Sail Away – David Gray

Sarah was pretty nice.  Later, while I was talking to her referral, Jonnie, she took it upon herself to explain what and why I was doing what I was doing with passerby’s.  She also wrote the most interesting, I think, phrase from a drawing.

What I most remember about Sarah: high energy.

Jonnie

1. Hangin’ out with my girl.
2. See picture above (I will post scanned higher res versions of each page later).
3. Changes – 2pac

Jonnie was pretty much quiet, and answered my questions in a straightforward fashion.

What I most remember about Jonnie: his smirk.

Robby

1. Family & girlfriend
2. Be nice to have one!
3. Us And Them – Pink Floyd

Robby reminded me of Kenny from South Park, haha. He had a self deprecating humor around him.

What I most remember about Robert: again, I could never really see his eyes.

Wes

1. My Girls, Hayly & Sharef, & Trees
2. See picture above (I will post scanned higher res versions of each page later).
3. Just Another Day in Paradise – Phil Vassar

Wes had a confident manner around him, pretty decent guy to talk to.  haha, it was embarrassing talking to him, because his initial answer to my question, “what do you love” was just girls and trees.  After writing that, he went down to add the word, “my” in front of “girls.” As he writes down the first letter m, I guess, “money?” and he’s like, no money sucks, and then emphasizes “MY girls” as he writes down the word, “my.” I’m like oh, not “all girls?” Then he’s like my daughters, and writes down their names, and I’m like oh, and remember why I am not good at being conventionally funny… or maybe any kind of funny at all.

What I most remember about Wes: he said he didn’t care about money.

Robert

1. Money
2. Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
3. Crystal Ball – Styx

Robert was one of the more talkative, curious guys. He was fun to talk to.  He seemed to have a lot of life, I wish I could’ve talked to him more, but at this point, I was getting a bit tired.

What I most remember about Robert: He told me about he used to run a business in the Philippines.

Roy

1. Money
2. See picture above (I will post scanned higher res versions of each page later).
3. Yes

Quiet and to the point. He was only in it for the money, I am sure.

What I most remember about Roy: He wouldn’t name a specific song!!

Robbie

1. Drama
2. More Money More Problems
3. We Fly High – Jim Jones

Robbie was pretty high energy and exuberant.  He was one of those hip hop types, he was interesting to talk to I guess.

What I most remember about Robbie: he was the cleanest person I talked to.

Cheryl Strongarm

1. My 4 children: Alysia, Ashley, Aaron & Arlen
2. See picture above (I will post scanned higher res versions of each page later).
3. Should I Stay or Should I Go – The Clash (I’m hoping this is the song she meant).

Cheryl was the friend Robert, the first guy I met, went to go find.  She was real nice and patient, apparently she had been waiting for awhile. I saw her again as I passed through Tinseltown. She smiled. I think she got something to eat.

What I most remember about Cheryl: She can’t draw Earth. haha.

Gary J. Flickinger II

1. My deceased grandparents, Agatha & Charles
2. Dying
3. What a Wonderful World – Louis Armstrong

Wes reminded me of the actor Norm Macdonald, except less sarcastic/comedic…. although he was still both. He seemed pretty intelligent (bookwise). It is also incredible that he chose the song, “Its a Wonderful World” to end with, being that he was the unknowing last person.  I wish I had talked to him more… I seemed to talk less and less with people the further I got, maybe I was getting tired.  But, in the end, on the way home, remembering things I had talked about with these people, I was content… more than content, joyous.  Its always amazing, thinking about how every single person you pass on the street, every single one has a life, a history as passionate, as true, and as real as yours.  Its magical, really.  Their are so many people, so many lives… I am lucky to have been a part of these ones.

What I most remember about Gary: I saw him again as I passed through Tinseltown, he stopped me and said thank you again.

“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.” -Aesop

 

Strange Occurrence, Ramblings, and Idea for Mobility Game. Ipod for Sale.

So today I randomly met up with a friend, and we had dinner.  While we were talking, he told me about how he felt bad that he had not helped a stranger by perhaps inviting that stranger over, giving him food, maybe giving him a place to stay for the night.  So we finished our dinner, which was incredible, and parted; I walked home thinking about many of the things we had discussed, among them this story.  On the way home, waiting for the bus, a man came up to me and asked me for some change to buy food.  I gave him my double delicious Thai leftovers.  I find it strange and interesting, the events that led up this event. I am always amazed at how good it feels to help someone, I think about it, and I’d be happy if thats all I spent my life doing; the content I feel from making something good is a drug, it wears, the joy I feel from helping never fades.

I sometimes wonder why I am pursuing “art” or film, who am I helping? Asking questions, acknowledging problems, these are things, as an artist, I am tasked with.  But, really, these are not difficult things to do, in fact they are incalculably easy.  Finding a solution, acting on it, that, to me, is something of courage, something truly worth pursuing.  I never feel as content as when I feel I am doing  something of worth, direct effect. 

For this reason, I always feel, for example, despicable at parties – I would rather do something of import and have fun, rather than do something to have fun.  I don’t care who people know, I don’t care what crazy thing they did, I don’t care about how much they drank or how wasted they got or how incredibly cool they are.  I couldn’t give a fucking shit ass less, really.  I care who they are, what they genuinely think, and what worthwhile things they in fact do or hope to do with their lives.  There is nothing I hate more than a conversation about nothing.  If people want to escape into their own ignorance, embrace empty nothings, thats fine, but its not for me.  I would hope that everything I do matters, helps something worth helping.  What I don’t have time for is inconsequence. If all I did with my life was make neat things, party, and be some faux-important person within a midst of, really, self-thanking little shit brats, I say fucking kill me now.  I’m not saying I’ve done anything worth anything, but I’m trying.  

I think about this, and I realize now that art that “speaks,” a conversation about something of worth, should never stop there – the saying should never be confused with the doing.  It is a good thing to be aware, but absolutely not enough; I do not want to be a person who talks about things, but does nothing.  So this got me to thinking about our mobility game project.  I don’t want to do something just cute or irreverent or amusing.  I don’t want to stage an event that gives privileged people something to escape to, without affecting or helping anything but those that really don’t need help at all.  Somebody, somewhere desperately needs help I am not going to be wasting my time organizing a pajama party.  I want to be able to feel that I actually directly helped someone that needed it in the process of this project…. no matter how  relatively miniscule my act.  I realize I can either be overwhelmed by all the things I can’t do, or do what I can; nothing happens, if nothing starts, its simple, really.

MOBILITY GAME IDEA

So I thought about the ipod that I was going to sell.  Initially, most of the proceeds were going to go to my girlfriend, but considering that is no longer existent, and, more importantly, after today’s turn of events, I am thinking something else.   My idea right now is that, first, I am going to document the selling of the ipod.   Whoever buys it has to be willing to 1. get their picture taken, 2. come with me and choose a person to give $20 to, and 3. Choose a song off the ipod or name one of their favorite songs, whichever. The person who is given the $20 has to be willing to do all those same things (except each person that came before the chosen would take/frame the picture).  I would continue doing this until all the proceeds were finished, I am hoping around $180 or 9 people.  I am also hoping the picture could include some game that is passed on to each person, tic tac toe or something.  So at the end of it I would have a game that has been passed between 9 different people, and a playlist (which I will upload and share on my “Sharing is Caring” box on this blog), and good feelings, and be poor.  Swell.  That said, if anyone has ideas to how I could improve this one, or would like to colloborate on something bigger, I am completely open.  All I knows is I’m going to sell my ipod, and give the money away. Oh, and if anyone knows anyone who would like to buy an ipod, or would like to buy one themselves, well, I have one for sale.  60 GB, white, pretty good condition.

10 Things I Realize Taking Transit & google map

1. Falling asleep on a sunny day is mandatory.

2. Old woman either smile at you constantly or hit you with their sticks.

3. When I sit next to someone, because their are no empty seats, but then empty seats materialize I never know what to do.  Do they want me to move? Or will they think, “hey, why is he moving? Do I smell?”

4. Some people have lost their sense of smell, and are determined to make everyone aware of it during the busy morning commute.  I have now perfected the art of breathing through my mouth.  The funny thing is, after awhile, you actually sort of like it. Like a guilty pleasure.  You don’t want to inhale… but you do!

5. If you are with a girl, your chances of strange men talking to you out of the blue increase by twenty. If you ARE a girl, my sympathies.

6. People who don’t give up their seats to people who actually need them are assholes. But sometimes you are not sure whether to give up your seat, is this woman old enough?  Will she be insulted if I offer her my seat?  

7. Some of the greatest conversations occur with fascinating strangers.  The interesting thing is, for the most part, you know you will never talk to these people again… so perhaps, in a way, you are most yourself with them.  And no, I am not the guy from #5.

8. When you first get on the bus, and its empty, you don’t want anyone to sit next to you.  When its absolutely full, and no ones sitting beside you still, you desperately do. 

9. People who stand like pylons on the left side of the escalator are assholes. People who don’t make an effort to make space when the bus is full and others are trying to get on are idiots. But sometimes, especially in foreign cities and new places, you are exactly that person. And then its funny.

10. The larger the group the stupider the people.

 Oh, and heres a link to my google map: google map

 

Urinal.

The artist himself may not think he is religious, but if he is sincere his sincerity in itself is religion. - Emily Carr

It interests me that throughout history where religion has been, art also has always necessarily followed (whether it be Russian propaganda films, Byzantine icons, or the Sistine Chapel).  I am not a religious person, in the sense that I do not subscribe to any one conventional “religious” system, but strangely, I would still consider myself “religious.”  That is, I have strong beliefs… even if I am not always fully aware of them; I have conviction, even if I am not always sure how to act.  Emily Carr wrote that “the artist himself may not think he is religious, but if he is sincere his sincerity in itself is religion,” and I relate strongly to that.  Religion is not in a word or a symbol, a painting or a speech, it lives always in one’s own beliefs.

What concerned me most while working on this piece was that very question of belief.  I am at a point in my life where conviction seems a tricky, fickle thing – but an absolutely necessary thing nonetheless.

Just recently, during a media history screening, a film called “Armageddon” was shown.  I found it strange how so many people left, and of the few who did remain, many of them did so only to laugh derogatively at the movie.  I can understand this, I too felt an almost instant sense of…. superiority.  But why?  When judgment comes so easy, it is usually a sign that ignorance is near.  If it is wrong for a “common” person to quickly pass something off as “artsy,” how is it right to pass of another as “commercial?”  Perhaps it is a question of semantics, perhaps not, but I honestly feel that their is worth to be had, knowledge to be learned, in everything, regardless of intent.  An open mind is acceptance, it is strange that in an art school there seems to be so little of it.

“Bad art is always more tragically beautiful than good art because it documents human failure.”

I understand that the backlash is against certain conventions, and blind, ideologically irresponsible decisions (made in the film)…. but, I think, what people fail to recognize is that very reaction is itself convention.  We are spurred by a collective unity.  In this way, “art” is no less a mindless system of thought than, say, Religion or Commercialism, Consumerism or Communism (the “bad” kind).  Like these things, art too seems to have a system of almost taboo arbitrary codes; ways we should think, talk, look, act. What I strive to remember is that this collective identity of “art” has, in fact, absolutely nothing to do with art – Being an “artist” has always been after the fact.

There seems to be a misconceived notion that conviction, belief, and confidence require solidity and foundation… while they ARE a necessary foundation, they should not borrow the connotations of that word.  Belief should never be nailed to the ground, conviction never cemented, rather, they should be in constant negotiation.  Uncertainty is the Mother of all things beautiful and pure. Belief, conviction, confidence – these are things that should be founded on an ocean of constant change.  When judgment is passed without question, judgment should be brought to trial. 

In my piece, formalistically, all in all, there are 10 religions referenced (Christianity [Holy Cross], Judaism [Magden David], Sikhism [Sword, Dagger and Shield], Taoism [Tai-Chi, Yin-Yang], Buddhism [The Dhammachakka], Hinduism [OM], Islam [Crescent and Star], Indigenous Religions [The Quartered Circle], Confucianism [The Trigram], and Jainism [The Swastik Chakra], centered around an outline of Michel Duchamp’s, “Fountain.”  Below is an idea for where I would like to put it and how it would look (though I would be open to other suggestions.)  The only thing I am concerned about is whether the detail within the circle is too fine…. in which case I could take away one of the duplicates and enlarge it (though that would omit Toaism…)… I’ve attached the alternative as well.

 

the kitchen of seeing

(click on panorama for bigger version)

So, something is seriously wrong with my Internet right now. I click on things and weird things happen, the page flickers and reloads repeatedly.  This sucks because I was trying to write about some of the things that interested me conceptually in regards to this panorama, and it all got wiped out as soon as I clicked save.  I don’t feel like writing it all again right now, but any comments anyone wishes to share in general is welcome.  All I’ll say is that it was primarily influenced by Roland Barthe’s essay on semiotics, “The Kitchen of Meaning,” and Martha Rosler’s video, “The Semiotics of the Kitchen.”  

Don’t you hate it when you lose stuff for absolutely no reason?  Its insane! I swear to God, I am like Midas – but everything I touch turns to nothing!  I’m misplacing things left and right!  In fact, I kid you not, the best way for me NOT to lose something is to actively try and misplace it.  It is incredible, I think I am super human.

So, anyway, here’s some more Calvin & Hobbes comic strips I like. Smile.