March 18, 2009

Went to the LA Zoo recently.


My God Daughter

March 18, 2009

She is beautiful.

The Getty

February 23, 2009


January 7, 2009

I’m late on a New Year’s post. In fact, there has a been a huge absence of writing here, resulting from a generous mix of confusion, hesitation, business, and laziness. 2008. What a whirlwhind. I’m going to try to summarize it, using a list. Because lists are simple. Lists are black and white. Lists are easy. And if I know anything, I know nothing in the last year has been easy. So from beginning to end:

  • January to June : Living my last months in San Francisco. My first, semi-professional run at an actual career winds down. During the year or so I worked at Cinder Block Inc. I was able to get a nice body of work that would fully push my freelance status into effect. I am proud of a lot of the work I did there, and a lot of the skills I was able to work on and learn. This includes: Color seperation, basic screen printing practice and theory, designing with production in mind, client communication, professionalism, Illustration styles, digital illustration, mixed media, and the under-estimated art of RESEARCHING. I was making more money than I had ever had before, but I was not really savvy enough to save or invest any of it.
  • Outside of work, I was struggling to enjoy the last run of time with my friends in San Francisco, while knowing that it would soon come to an end. It took me awhile to tell everyone. I learned what it felt like to have a family away from my real family, a home away from home. Today, I still think about those trips to Reno, getting high and playing NBA hang time, or the endless rides on the 38 Limited Bus. I remember when the weather showed the sun, all the skirts and sunglasses came out, it was absolute heaven.
  • I rekindled a romance with an ex-girlfriend. To see if we really were meant to be with each other, to see if we could actually stand each other. It was all so hopeful, and there was so much pressure riding on it to work. It didn’t work, for a lot of different reasons, and realizing this would prove tough, frustrating, and sad.
  • July to August : I traveled. Manila, Mandaluyang, Boracay, Philippines. Bangkok, Thailand. Cafes with buckets of beer and acoustic sessions. Going clubbing with a stranger-turned friend that couldn’t speak English. Riding an elephant, going sailing, eating the best food of my life, immense culture shock. Intense family bonding, I feel like we made up for lost time.
  • I’m not going to sugarcoat it. The tail-end of 2008 moved fast, and blurry, and there was no mercy. It was about living in the moment, sober or intoxicated. It was about crossing the lines to know where they are. It was about first dates, and getting to know somebody new, and so, so different from what I’m used to. It was too many cigarettes, too much whiskey, being too high and sluggish, being too hungry and eating too much. It was my triumphant return to school, and I killed it, and took names. It was about refusing to get a job and working from home drawing pictures for companies and designing business cards and brochures and shirts. Winter of 2008 was about Living LARGE and fast.
  • I’m having shirts mailed to me. It’s Christmas time. I’m having checks mailed to me. I’m climbing the mountains of Corganville, never missing a Lakers game. I’m going to the hidden caverns in the park, and throwing paper airplanes off the hills. I’m owning at puzzle fighter, and living by the diamond.
  • I learned a lot about myself in 2008. I learned about who I want to be, and who I don’t want to be. Who I want to be with, and who I want to stay away from.
  • I’m going to write up a sketch, so I don’t forget: 540, Geary, 38, CB. The LODGE, the R.A.P.E., Airplanes, Islands, Animals. Lawr, Sister leaves, I miss her. Heart breaks, heart makes. Puzzle fights, Volcanoes, Rips, and Camels. Whiskey, Games, Friends, Close, Close, Close! Crew, Crush, Photobooths, Living in the Moment. Meeting Abraham Lincoln, Gummie Bear Bubbas, Phil’s too smart, B’s too nice, Everyone’s too scared. Porch talks, Coffee Bean, Tea Lattes. Art Shows, camera, back SLIDE.

I’m thankful. 2009, will be 2000-Fine. This will be about REaffirmation, REcommitting, and getting back on. I always thought I’d be different. I have to be. I have no choice. None of this bullshit about blaming the city, the people, the money, the equipment. There are absolutely, positively, no limits.

PS Go Lakers.

Watch this.

June 6, 2008

You gotta be who you are… no matter how dangerous it is.

Lawrence Weiner : Design Matters. By Hillman Curtis


May 27, 2008

When she was a teenager, she awoke a random morning with a hole in her chest. She didn’t notice it at first, until she looked in the mirror and noticed her clothing falling into the middle, revealing the giant gape. Bursts of pain shot through her rib cage. The shadows on the white fabric of her body pointed to the center with caution, with ugliness, and she stumbled to her knees that day, screaming poems of hate at the ceiling of cracks and florescent lines.

Months and years later, she had become accustomed to the hole, medication to soften the pain, and found clever ways to cover it. Vibrant patterns, flashy objects lining her body, the light of the sun would deflect into your eyes off her bracelets, and  you could see your reflections in her necklaces. She was beautiful.

One day she was reading an article in a magazine. There was an article on young doctor who had caught the attention of the elite medical community.  He and his team had figured out a quick, fast way to recreate bone and skin tissue to repair skin wells, gashes, and deep holes that plagued hundreds of people around the world. He had proven that these unfortunate deformities could be cured and fixed, the problems removed, like they never existed to begin with. His picture looked dashing next to the blocks of type that spoke of expertise and miracles.

Within the next year she would be sitting on an operating table. The doctor’s face hovering over hers, his vision resting directly onto her pupils. Their breaths were in perfect sync, as they gazed at each other. A gas mask placed over the girls face… her lids became heavy, until they gave away completely. When she woke up, her dreams dissolving into smoke, she was pleased to see the hole was filled, and the girl and the doctor went to dinner that night to celebrate. Her hole completely invisible now, they had begun to fall in love with each other. They would make love that night.

She was older now, and the doctor was her boyfriend. He had fixed her, he had made her perfect, the way she should have been since she was a child. She loved him for that. One day, she awoke, arose from his side, he was sleeping heavily, like a child, and she kissed him on the forehead and walked to the sink, the sunlight piercing through the curtains of their room. In front of the mirror, she noticed a giant spot of blood in the center of her chest. It turns out the doctor’s surgery was successful at first, but the faults would come to resurface with time. There were complexities of the science behind his operation that were beyond the understanding of his brain. The couple tried again and again to re-operate and fix the hole that resided in her chest, pumping blood outwards, dripping between her breasts, trails of bodily fluid rolling down her stomach. That, combined with the tears that would escape from her eyes, was heavy on the doctor, and he eventually realized that he could not fix the hole.

In her frustration, she left the doctor, and vowed to travel the world to find somebody else who could fix her deformity. She would continue her fruitless search… meeting after meet. She was old now, wrinkles like valleys and in the surface of her skin, covered only by her fancy garments and hypnotizing patterns. Far away now, she was walking through a field of flowers to the entrance of a village, when she was stopped by a little girl that had a striking familiarity to her. Confused, she tried to ignore the little girl, but the little girl grabbed her arm and stared into her eyes.

Slowly, the little girl, unbuttoned her dress and revealed her chest. In the middle of the little girl’s chest was a circle-shaped bruise, revealing skin that had freshly healed over a wound. The little kid smiled and the old woman, shocked, stepped backwards. The little girl signaled to the woman to help her pick flowers under the shining sun, a weaved basket next to her. But the woman took one look at the girl, and ran away, towards the village, where she had heard of a doctor with the magic touch.

I’ve tried writing something here that would faithfully explain what has been going on in my life the past few months, but every time I hit a few paragraphs, I delete it all with disgust and frustration. (Command+A, Delete, repeat.) Partially because I’m unsure how to execute what I want to say in a dashing way, a way that might seem eloquent and graceful, calculated but semi-ambiguous. And partially to avoid repetition, worn meaning, and useless mental masturbation. After numerous failed attempts, I came to the conclusion that we tend to over-think things, taking longer routes for a simple result, waiting for the perfect words, the perfect moment, the perfect shot. The things I admire the most, whether it is people, music, or art or literature and conversations, are the ones that present the most honesty. The ones that act almost on impulse, giving little or no time to hesitation or fabrication.

I read that our gut instincts exist for a very specific reason- they are shortcut calculations computated in our head that automatically weighs in instincts, experiences, and outcomes in a half-second. What interests me even more is that the act of thinking is both a human being’s greatest strength, and greatest weakness. It allows for great advances in almost every area of life, but also limits our potential and actions- many times, irrationally.

I miss feeling inspired, and inquisitive. I miss the constant questioning, the striving towards something great, and feeling the progress roll out right under my feet. My life right now does not allow me to live the way I want to. Work is a daily 12-hour commitment. My friends might wonder why I seem obsessive with building an understanding of social dynamics and creating new connections. The reason being: I don’t work a social job. I don’t go to school, and I’m out 12 hours a day for my job and my commute and my errands, and attempt to sleep 6 hours. 12+6 = 18. 24-18 = 6 hours of leisure time a day, taking that I’m not completely exhausted, which I am most of the time. With that schedule, human interaction screams my name. I’m 21 years old, and I’m living like an ant. Unlike most of the people my age in this expensive city, I fully support myself, with the exception of the times my parents have saved my ass to make rent. But this is absolutely not a complaint, merely an observation. Complaining is silly- either act or forget. The “I’m a victim” mentality absolutely disgusts me, as I believe we are the sum of our choices, so I know I’ve chosen this life. And now I’m choosing to change it.

I will be moving back to the Los Angeles area before the end of June. I will be out of the country traveling from July 1st to the beginning of August. Upon my return, I will go back to school and attempt to live somewhere in the LA area, with the priority being learning, and growing and pushing myself. I suppose it’s time to start finishing what I’ve started… and this is only the first of many things.

San Francisco, you beautiful city. You have been a monumental learning experience. I’ve learned more this last year about myself and about my values than any other year that has come before it. Which is probably due to feeling more uncomfortable and “failing” more than I ever have. I wouldn’t take back a single second. I’ll approach the future with a stronger set of ideals and with a stronger sense of positivity.