I have a couple of friends whose mere presence can inspire some amazing creativity in me. While they will remain nameless, I've written amazing poetry after hanging out with them - not necessarily about them or in reference to them - but something about them wakes up my creative senses. They unblock me in awesome ways. Wow that sounds - um ---->>>>
The other night was no exception. Sitting with them chatting and a third person was there who is not normally was mildly irritating so - I drew on the light of others and started doodling on paper. The corner of an envelope actually. And out of that I've birthed another painting. I have to go get canvas - but yeah - done and done. I actually got the idea for a series of images.
2 posts ago, I was afraid of art. Writing that post took the fear right out of me and I charged ahead with an idea. 1 post ago, I also wrote about art - with a little fear behind it as well - not knowing the direction of the show. Writing these things out helps me rid myself of them - I write, I release, I move forward.
Here's to the Angel/Devil Series. I'm rinsing brushes - NOW.
Apr 20, 2010
Apr 19, 2010
Art
Wow, there are a lot of things happening in my world with my art. Finally. The weird thing is I don't want to exhibit damn near anything I have right now. Truth be told, I want to create for this show. What show? Well, I have a gallery opening on July 1st.
The thing is, that my non-channel 5 world is suddenly flourishing. As though the Universe is trying to tell me that I am - well, more than my job. It's been a slow process of the Universe telling me this. First when I didn't get the job that I've been doing for years now. That was the first sign, that was the Universe saying, "Heifer, really? TV News?" As devastated as I was, I didn't ever truly let it show. Why? Because I'm so much better than that.
So, back to the art of it all. I started work on 2 separate pieces that I think are the same piece. A diptych, if you will. An angel and a demon. Line work. I was inspired by an idea someone threw my way of getting out of my comfort zone and trying something new. I started work on a 3rd piece that is pretty dark, it's the skeleton of the Sphinx at Delphi, except I used the bone structure of bat wings. There's lots of rendered smoke. It's looking awesome thus far, at least digitally.
The problem with this show, at least the issue I have with it is this: I need a cohesive collection. My styles are many. I paint what my soul tells me. I can tell a color story - but a stylistically cohesive set - ouch. Granted, I have a lot of pieces that are one style, and a lot that are another style, but they are old to me. They aren't necessarily what I want to say, NOW. I'm in school full time and pretty much working full time, and the thought of painting a whole collection in the couple of months until the show is frightening. But I have ideas. Little ideas that might bring one cohesive collection together.
I started a painting called Vesica Pisces a few months back. I like it and I think that will be part of the collection, as will the Bartender painting. I guess I'll take from that style, and also do prints of some digital art. I'm scared and excited at the same time.
Here's to the rest of my life.
The thing is, that my non-channel 5 world is suddenly flourishing. As though the Universe is trying to tell me that I am - well, more than my job. It's been a slow process of the Universe telling me this. First when I didn't get the job that I've been doing for years now. That was the first sign, that was the Universe saying, "Heifer, really? TV News?" As devastated as I was, I didn't ever truly let it show. Why? Because I'm so much better than that.
So, back to the art of it all. I started work on 2 separate pieces that I think are the same piece. A diptych, if you will. An angel and a demon. Line work. I was inspired by an idea someone threw my way of getting out of my comfort zone and trying something new. I started work on a 3rd piece that is pretty dark, it's the skeleton of the Sphinx at Delphi, except I used the bone structure of bat wings. There's lots of rendered smoke. It's looking awesome thus far, at least digitally.
The problem with this show, at least the issue I have with it is this: I need a cohesive collection. My styles are many. I paint what my soul tells me. I can tell a color story - but a stylistically cohesive set - ouch. Granted, I have a lot of pieces that are one style, and a lot that are another style, but they are old to me. They aren't necessarily what I want to say, NOW. I'm in school full time and pretty much working full time, and the thought of painting a whole collection in the couple of months until the show is frightening. But I have ideas. Little ideas that might bring one cohesive collection together.
I started a painting called Vesica Pisces a few months back. I like it and I think that will be part of the collection, as will the Bartender painting. I guess I'll take from that style, and also do prints of some digital art. I'm scared and excited at the same time.
Here's to the rest of my life.
Apr 16, 2010
Fear
Fear is something I try not to subscribe to. Fear is a ridiculous emotion that is usually based on nothing. Last night someone asked me to do something. As an artist, a challenge is always welcome. The thing is, I was running on about an hour of sleep. I'd had a few cocktails, and what sounded like a fantastic idea - now in the morning is giving me nothing but panic attacks. Seriously, my palms are sweating, my heart is pumping erratically, my brain won't stop.
My artwork is very personal to me. The only commissioned work I've ever accepted involves me having full creative control and no one giving me any type of goal. I've gotten color choices and thematic ideas. "I need a piece for my living room, my accent colors are teal and brown, I like trees and the beach. Go." I can deal with that.
My style is fairly whimsical - though I hate that word. I inject magic into my art in the form of sigils. Most of which are so hard to find within the artwork that no one would ever know. I paint from inside out, which is why even the saddest art I've done - is happy by most standards. Because I inject magic into all of my work - using the themes of nature or abstract and extremely colorful and vibrant are a must to me. I don't work dark magic. Everything I do comes from a place of love. Unless it's from a place of mischief.
I was asked to do a dark piece. While I make some extremely sardonic comments, and can appreciate extremely dark film, music, and artwork - it's not something that comes from inside me. Darkness is something I seek outside of myself. I wrote a poem once about being "The Light". As someone who is "Light," I have no choice but to seek darkness. Darkness comes from the outside because the only thing inside of me is light. Being asked to conjure darkness from internally and show it to someone else scares me to the point of paralyzation. Not to mention, it's an almost impossible feat.
The reason I have no idea what to do in this situation - the reason I'm sitting here writing this missive - is fear. I'm incredibly flattered by the idea that someone thinks enough of me as a person and an artist to request my work. However, I have no idea how to start or even if I can. I imagine this project has a deadline - which is scarier than anything. But the scariest part is knowing that if I do it - I could disappoint one of the few people in my life that I'd never want to disappoint - however the same can be said about not doing it.
Help.
My artwork is very personal to me. The only commissioned work I've ever accepted involves me having full creative control and no one giving me any type of goal. I've gotten color choices and thematic ideas. "I need a piece for my living room, my accent colors are teal and brown, I like trees and the beach. Go." I can deal with that.
My style is fairly whimsical - though I hate that word. I inject magic into my art in the form of sigils. Most of which are so hard to find within the artwork that no one would ever know. I paint from inside out, which is why even the saddest art I've done - is happy by most standards. Because I inject magic into all of my work - using the themes of nature or abstract and extremely colorful and vibrant are a must to me. I don't work dark magic. Everything I do comes from a place of love. Unless it's from a place of mischief.
I was asked to do a dark piece. While I make some extremely sardonic comments, and can appreciate extremely dark film, music, and artwork - it's not something that comes from inside me. Darkness is something I seek outside of myself. I wrote a poem once about being "The Light". As someone who is "Light," I have no choice but to seek darkness. Darkness comes from the outside because the only thing inside of me is light. Being asked to conjure darkness from internally and show it to someone else scares me to the point of paralyzation. Not to mention, it's an almost impossible feat.
The reason I have no idea what to do in this situation - the reason I'm sitting here writing this missive - is fear. I'm incredibly flattered by the idea that someone thinks enough of me as a person and an artist to request my work. However, I have no idea how to start or even if I can. I imagine this project has a deadline - which is scarier than anything. But the scariest part is knowing that if I do it - I could disappoint one of the few people in my life that I'd never want to disappoint - however the same can be said about not doing it.
Help.
Apr 14, 2010
Earthquakes.
The thing about all these huge earthquakes is how even though we can find prophecies about this very occurrence, there is one underlying fact - history. The Earth changes every several thousand years. If one thinks about the human body our cells recreate themselves and we shed off the old cells making a new human, essentially, constantly. Who you were when you were six, is not who you are now, cellularly - let alone spiritually and mentally.
Picture the Earth is the same. The Earth recreates itself and shakes off what was once on it, in a cycle. Some survive, some do not. One of these recent earthquakes took the Earth off of its axis a full three inches. We continue to spin on the other axis however, and because of this we all go on as though nothing is happening. Tonight 8000 people or more were injured in an earthquake in China. We had Haiti, and Chile too.
I'm not the person who puts negative intention out into the world. When it comes to humankind and the Earth, all I can think of is LOVE and constant circulation of that emotion - that spiritual glow. I believe that something huge is coming for us, spiritually. Our race - the HUMAN race - will come together on a level never before seen. We will unite and be the hive and cease being the individual bees.
This is the only hope we have.
Embrace one another.
Picture the Earth is the same. The Earth recreates itself and shakes off what was once on it, in a cycle. Some survive, some do not. One of these recent earthquakes took the Earth off of its axis a full three inches. We continue to spin on the other axis however, and because of this we all go on as though nothing is happening. Tonight 8000 people or more were injured in an earthquake in China. We had Haiti, and Chile too.
I'm not the person who puts negative intention out into the world. When it comes to humankind and the Earth, all I can think of is LOVE and constant circulation of that emotion - that spiritual glow. I believe that something huge is coming for us, spiritually. Our race - the HUMAN race - will come together on a level never before seen. We will unite and be the hive and cease being the individual bees.
This is the only hope we have.
Embrace one another.
Apr 9, 2010
"The Voice of the Architect"
Last night I received a text message, that while at the time I'm sure was sent tongue-in-cheek, the truth is it made me think.
I'll start from the beginning, because I think the background is important. If you've read this blog at all, you know all about my clairaudience, you'll know all about my crazy stalkers, and you'll know all about how I find a lot of people highly annoying. I won't get into any of that. My friend Kelly and I hang out quite often and always talk about dancing. I figured it'd be a good idea for us to go out on a Thursday night and have a little dance party. I had to make arrangements for her to be able to leave work around midnight. Every now and then I like to make dinner for the staff of the Twisted Spoke, because I know how gross it is to be forced to eat the same food every day. My friend Peter came over early, as did my friend Courtney, and we had dinner at my place. When we were done, I boiled fresh pasta - and packed dinner for the Spoke. Bread, salad, pasta, Italian sausage, fresh parmesan - it was rather good if I do say so myself. Basically, I did some good for my fellow man that night. There was the extra added bonus of going out with my girl and cutting a rug. The goal was to get us out of our usual hang and stop the cycle of madness. I used to go dancing every Thursday, and for some reason or other I stopped. No mas.
At 11:00 I left the Spoke to go home and shower and change. It wasn't a massive change, so 30 minutes later I was back in the saddle, at the Spoke. Dancing didn't begin until midnight, so we had time for a pre-cocktail before we changed venues. I walked in to find my girl sitting with someone I wasn't expecting, and quite frankly wasn't really fond of. I'd invited Peter, and she'd told me she invited someone, but I didn't think that someone was the person I was staring at. As I'm sitting there, I see through the windows of the bar - one of the people who I'd consider mildly stalkerish, and quite frankly creepy. We have names for these people, but at the risk of giving away who it was - I'll simply use the term "gimp".
I text my friend Alex, "God hates me. "Can't get a word in edgewise AND the gimp? Time to go."
Now the truth is, when I sent that text - I really didn't expect a reply at all. At the most I expected a smile of recognition the next time he'd walked past. However, as I was staring at my phone looking for a phone number, up popped a text. The message stuck with me the whole night. I danced and it rang in my head. I went home and it rang in my head. I went to sleep and dreamt about it. I woke up and it was still with me. I've been up for about 4 hours now and I still can't shake it.
Truth is like a memory. When you hear it you re-member. You come back together. Truth hits you and like some elixir, everything is suddenly made right.
"It's not karma, but you're definitely not listening to the voice of the architect."
Funny, that thought. Because it's the most truthful thing anyone has ever said to me, even if it was via a digital - wireless - text transmission. As someone who has actually heard that voice I can truly say that he was right. Not necessarily related at all to the events of the night. Whatever, I mean I was sitting between someone who can't shut up, and someone who makes me uncomfortable- like I've never been in that position before. It was a deeper message, even if it wasn't intended that way.
You are definitely not listening to the voice of the architect.
Now the part of this all that strikes me, way beyond the message that was delivered to me, was what I sent back. Without giving it any thought at all. Just typing in words into my phone I said something quite poignant about what has been happening to me.
"I listen to all voices at once. The voice of the architect is like a 10,000 part harmony. Hard to hear the truth over the music."
Usually when I send a text message, it's like having a conversation. I think before I text, and usually I filter before I send. This was not me typing. I mean it was but it wasn't coming from conscious thought. I was in a noisy bar, with creep on one side and motor mouth en la otra. There was a great movie that I've seen playing in front of me. My friends Kelly and Peter were pretty outrageously loud and drunk and flamboyant as always. But me? Where was I? I was not even in the room I was in. I was holding a phone in my hands but I was somewhere floating above the bar looking down on the room full of people and watching the most discordant music flow from their souls. As much fun and sadness, misery and joy that was going on in that room, I couldn't filter it. Why? Because the architect was sending me thoughts through someone. Because I was listening to the architect, only I couldn't hear - I was reading the architect. And suddenly, I was back on the bar stool trying to get the group going.
Sometimes, for no reason you can comprehend, you are re-minded - that is - your mind is given back to you. Sometimes you stand under the truth - and understand its meaning. Sometimes all it takes is one little nudge from the most random source to realign you to what your nature is.
The truth is that there are a lot of moments in life where the architect, as it were, talks to you through someone. Sometimes that someone is on TV, or their words ring true for you through text on paper, sometimes what you need to hear is delivered to you through a billboard on the side of a bus. It doesn't matter how the message is delivered, it only matters that the message was delivered. And for me, it was. The first ultimate truth in a long time.
Even weirder is that right before I got the message, I read another message on the wall of the ladies room. Someone had quoted Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn".
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty."
I'll start from the beginning, because I think the background is important. If you've read this blog at all, you know all about my clairaudience, you'll know all about my crazy stalkers, and you'll know all about how I find a lot of people highly annoying. I won't get into any of that. My friend Kelly and I hang out quite often and always talk about dancing. I figured it'd be a good idea for us to go out on a Thursday night and have a little dance party. I had to make arrangements for her to be able to leave work around midnight. Every now and then I like to make dinner for the staff of the Twisted Spoke, because I know how gross it is to be forced to eat the same food every day. My friend Peter came over early, as did my friend Courtney, and we had dinner at my place. When we were done, I boiled fresh pasta - and packed dinner for the Spoke. Bread, salad, pasta, Italian sausage, fresh parmesan - it was rather good if I do say so myself. Basically, I did some good for my fellow man that night. There was the extra added bonus of going out with my girl and cutting a rug. The goal was to get us out of our usual hang and stop the cycle of madness. I used to go dancing every Thursday, and for some reason or other I stopped. No mas.
At 11:00 I left the Spoke to go home and shower and change. It wasn't a massive change, so 30 minutes later I was back in the saddle, at the Spoke. Dancing didn't begin until midnight, so we had time for a pre-cocktail before we changed venues. I walked in to find my girl sitting with someone I wasn't expecting, and quite frankly wasn't really fond of. I'd invited Peter, and she'd told me she invited someone, but I didn't think that someone was the person I was staring at. As I'm sitting there, I see through the windows of the bar - one of the people who I'd consider mildly stalkerish, and quite frankly creepy. We have names for these people, but at the risk of giving away who it was - I'll simply use the term "gimp".
I text my friend Alex, "God hates me. "Can't get a word in edgewise AND the gimp? Time to go."
Now the truth is, when I sent that text - I really didn't expect a reply at all. At the most I expected a smile of recognition the next time he'd walked past. However, as I was staring at my phone looking for a phone number, up popped a text. The message stuck with me the whole night. I danced and it rang in my head. I went home and it rang in my head. I went to sleep and dreamt about it. I woke up and it was still with me. I've been up for about 4 hours now and I still can't shake it.
Truth is like a memory. When you hear it you re-member. You come back together. Truth hits you and like some elixir, everything is suddenly made right.
"It's not karma, but you're definitely not listening to the voice of the architect."
Funny, that thought. Because it's the most truthful thing anyone has ever said to me, even if it was via a digital - wireless - text transmission. As someone who has actually heard that voice I can truly say that he was right. Not necessarily related at all to the events of the night. Whatever, I mean I was sitting between someone who can't shut up, and someone who makes me uncomfortable- like I've never been in that position before. It was a deeper message, even if it wasn't intended that way.
You are definitely not listening to the voice of the architect.
Now the part of this all that strikes me, way beyond the message that was delivered to me, was what I sent back. Without giving it any thought at all. Just typing in words into my phone I said something quite poignant about what has been happening to me.
"I listen to all voices at once. The voice of the architect is like a 10,000 part harmony. Hard to hear the truth over the music."
Usually when I send a text message, it's like having a conversation. I think before I text, and usually I filter before I send. This was not me typing. I mean it was but it wasn't coming from conscious thought. I was in a noisy bar, with creep on one side and motor mouth en la otra. There was a great movie that I've seen playing in front of me. My friends Kelly and Peter were pretty outrageously loud and drunk and flamboyant as always. But me? Where was I? I was not even in the room I was in. I was holding a phone in my hands but I was somewhere floating above the bar looking down on the room full of people and watching the most discordant music flow from their souls. As much fun and sadness, misery and joy that was going on in that room, I couldn't filter it. Why? Because the architect was sending me thoughts through someone. Because I was listening to the architect, only I couldn't hear - I was reading the architect. And suddenly, I was back on the bar stool trying to get the group going.
Sometimes, for no reason you can comprehend, you are re-minded - that is - your mind is given back to you. Sometimes you stand under the truth - and understand its meaning. Sometimes all it takes is one little nudge from the most random source to realign you to what your nature is.
The truth is that there are a lot of moments in life where the architect, as it were, talks to you through someone. Sometimes that someone is on TV, or their words ring true for you through text on paper, sometimes what you need to hear is delivered to you through a billboard on the side of a bus. It doesn't matter how the message is delivered, it only matters that the message was delivered. And for me, it was. The first ultimate truth in a long time.
Even weirder is that right before I got the message, I read another message on the wall of the ladies room. Someone had quoted Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn".
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty."
Apr 7, 2010
The iPad
So, I'm annoyed that the WiFi at work is down, has been for a couple months, but my 3G service on my iPhone gets around that issue. But now that I bought the WiFi iPad, I want the WiFi back! Sure I'm sitting at a computer and can do all of the things I can on my iPad on an actual computer, but I wanted to play.
At home though, the thing is a dream. I watched a movie on it, 4 hours or more of television, and looked at some photos I hadn't looked at in a long time. I held the Pyramids of Giza in my hands. I watched a movie as I walked around the house. That thing is going to be the thing that makes me never want to leave my bed. Watching movies in bed is awesome, watching them on the iPad is just amazing.
I've been a Mac Addict for years now. I got my first iPod and almost immediately got a macbook pro, then an iMac, and now I've been through many iterations of all of the above. I have Apple TV, and after having it, I don't understand how I went without one for so long. Like the iPod, which when I first was able to carry around every Prince recording at once - not to mention my music library - after about a day I remember thinking, "How did I live without this?" The first time I lost my iPod, I thought, "I can't live without it!" I went on a vacation 2 years ago and my iPod died. I couldn't even wait until the morning to get a new one, I walked 3 miles to get an iPod Mini to hold me over until I could get mine fixed. Yes, I have problems.
My iPhone is like an appendage. I carry it at all times, and unlike the first cellphones I had which were just pains in the ass to me, I can't go anywhere without it. I've actually taken cabs back from work during my lunch hour to get it on days I've forgotten it at home.
Now, I have an iPad. I don't yet think of it as something I can't live without - like my iPod, my iMac, my Apple TV, and my iPhone. But looking at the list - I'm sure that someday soon, I'll totally feel naked without it.
It is awesome. I'm in geek love again. Steve Jobs, you owe me at the very least one of the wheels on your car.
At home though, the thing is a dream. I watched a movie on it, 4 hours or more of television, and looked at some photos I hadn't looked at in a long time. I held the Pyramids of Giza in my hands. I watched a movie as I walked around the house. That thing is going to be the thing that makes me never want to leave my bed. Watching movies in bed is awesome, watching them on the iPad is just amazing.
I've been a Mac Addict for years now. I got my first iPod and almost immediately got a macbook pro, then an iMac, and now I've been through many iterations of all of the above. I have Apple TV, and after having it, I don't understand how I went without one for so long. Like the iPod, which when I first was able to carry around every Prince recording at once - not to mention my music library - after about a day I remember thinking, "How did I live without this?" The first time I lost my iPod, I thought, "I can't live without it!" I went on a vacation 2 years ago and my iPod died. I couldn't even wait until the morning to get a new one, I walked 3 miles to get an iPod Mini to hold me over until I could get mine fixed. Yes, I have problems.
My iPhone is like an appendage. I carry it at all times, and unlike the first cellphones I had which were just pains in the ass to me, I can't go anywhere without it. I've actually taken cabs back from work during my lunch hour to get it on days I've forgotten it at home.
Now, I have an iPad. I don't yet think of it as something I can't live without - like my iPod, my iMac, my Apple TV, and my iPhone. But looking at the list - I'm sure that someday soon, I'll totally feel naked without it.
It is awesome. I'm in geek love again. Steve Jobs, you owe me at the very least one of the wheels on your car.
Apr 5, 2010
God # ?
I have no idea how many God posts I've written, so eff trying to number this one.
Every now and again you remember what God means to you. My whole life, God was equivalent to the feeling of unconditional, undeniable, love. Tonight I listened to a song, and throughout I realized that God was with me. Why? Because something about the lyrics or music or vibe of that song took me to a place of unconditional love. The place where you don't care if he loves you back. The place where you don't want anything at all. The place where nagging, and guilt trips, and every other stupid human retarded emotional thing doesn't matter.
I heard some lyrics and could only think of a feeling.
I fell in love.
The kind that doesn't need recognition or requital.
Some songs are just perfect.
Every now and again you remember what God means to you. My whole life, God was equivalent to the feeling of unconditional, undeniable, love. Tonight I listened to a song, and throughout I realized that God was with me. Why? Because something about the lyrics or music or vibe of that song took me to a place of unconditional love. The place where you don't care if he loves you back. The place where you don't want anything at all. The place where nagging, and guilt trips, and every other stupid human retarded emotional thing doesn't matter.
I heard some lyrics and could only think of a feeling.
I fell in love.
The kind that doesn't need recognition or requital.
Some songs are just perfect.
