Today, as planed, I went to the library downtown. I was going to find some books and sources for my paper for Art History on the social and political commentaries of society as reflected in the comic books.
During the Year of the Monkey, however, all plans are suppose to go askew.
Well, guess what happened?
Everywhere I went, I came up dead with what books and resources I could use. The popular material section had nothing, so I had to order what I was looking for. The newspaper kept coming up with various political cartoons and nothing as far as the studies go. The Fine Arts room lead me to books that WERE comic books, and anything about them were few and far between as far as usefulness. I only found two sources.
Two sources is better than one, I suppose, but after going up and down three floors at least five times using the marble stairs, I'm really burned out.
I need a new distraction.
Sunday, February 29, 2004
Saturday, February 28, 2004
Chinese transsexual barred from Miss Universe pageant
BEIJING (AFP) - A Chinese transsexual has been barred from competing in the 2004 Miss Universe (news - web sites) competition because she was born a man, organisers said.
Chen Lili, a 24-year-old fashion model from China's southwestern Sichuan province, would have been the first transgender woman to vie for the title.
From Yahoo! News.
I don't know what to say to this one. Then again, I didn't know what to say when I got word that an all-girls college was wanting me to apply to attend their school.
Chen Lili, a 24-year-old fashion model from China's southwestern Sichuan province, would have been the first transgender woman to vie for the title.
From Yahoo! News.
I don't know what to say to this one. Then again, I didn't know what to say when I got word that an all-girls college was wanting me to apply to attend their school.
Revisiting the Masters
Today, I made it a point to get to the Frist to revisit the Masters Exhibit they have going on. So, after watching Ash bond with his Corphish the only way he can in the Pokemon series (Seems all but his Taillow have gotten sick somehow or another in the series.), I hitched a ride with my mom and sister downtown. Little to my knowledge did I know they were going to the library.
In all honesty, I thought that what I missed of the exhibit was going to take me a while to complete. In reality, it only took me two hours. I feel kind of guilty at such a short visit. I want to blame the crowd traffic, but then again, I was stupid enough to go on a weekend yet again. You think I'd learn by now.
Anyway, I saw the rest of the exhibits and began to take notes and observe. People seemed to notice that I was the only one in the whole gallery doing this! One parent said to her child that they should have brought their notebook for school to do the same thing. You would think teachers from Elementary Art all the way up to my level would have put this exhibit on their core curriculums by now.
As I observed the use of color and took notes on some of the more interesting and appealing paintings to myself, I began to people watch. Anyone that knows me knows that this is a habit of pleasure I do. The social groups this time around were mostly families, unlike the last time where it was mostly people of obvious wealth. Of the families, there seem to be a lot of high school kids, all of whom looked like they could care less about the art they were looking at. As if they were in it for the extra credit and the "easy A" that they need to graduate the class.
Well, enough about the people. Let's talk about the paintings.
All the paintings in the gallery were very beautiful and evoked the same feeling as the last time. A sense of awe and humility for me as an artist. One in particular that I had a hard time taking notes on was Courbet's Rocks at Mouthier. Nothing I could write down could do it any justice. It was a painting that I missed the first time around thanks to van Gogh and Cezanne. I mean, I missed it completely! The moment I saw it, I felt something that was the closest thing I could determine to be some kind of ethereal bliss and security. The kind that would rival the Kingdom of God kind of bliss. The color, the texture of the paint, the light and dark contrast. All of it! Every element! The painting was so beautiful like nothing I have ever seen in my life! I ended up visiting it three times while I was there. If I had the money, I'd buy it away from Duncan Phillips. Where I would put it, I don't know. That kind of ambitious (and fool-hearty) move is best reserved for when I actually have some kind of wealth.
Like with most of the patrons in all those Tycoon games, I was pleased with the exhibit to the point where I wanted to buy something. I looked around the mock gift shop that was set up within the gallery. I had a budget of $15, and everything within my range were post cards and little trinkets of that sort. There was nothing that had Courbet's Rocks at Mouthier on it with the exception of the beyond the ISM book they were selling for $20. I ended up buying one of those flip cubes that had a different picture of an Impressionistic painting depending on how to flip the various panels of the cube. Something to decorate my future computer station if I ever get one. Because I'm a Watkin's student, I got a discount off of it. That's right, I didn't have to pay taxes on it and then some. One of the better benefits about being a college student in a specialty school.
I think it is best if I close this blog with something I feel I need to express.
While I was waiting for my ride, a man approached me. He saw me inside the exhibit taking notes and wanted to know what the reason was. Was it for class or was it personal? Was it because I am an artist? Why was I taking notes inside. I politely explained that it is a little bit of both. I am an artist, even if in training, and I was advised to go to the exhibit to learn about the style and color use for Color Fundamentals for a gallery review report. I was also told to go for Art History Survey 2 because of how we are about to approach the Impressionistic movement in the class. The man nodded confirming that I have answered his question. He then said something that made me pity him. He said that he went through the entire exhibit, audio guide and all, and didn't feel a thing.
I don't know what it is about people, but to hear that from someone old enough to be my father just made me sad. How can anyone not feel moved by some of the artwork in that gallery? These were original van Gogh paintings! Original Cezanne! Even a rare Picasso sculpture!! To go in to this exhibit and not feel anything should be a crime! Not only were these artist revolutionary artists, they are considered the masters of the art world. People that go into the art want to be just like them in both their revolutionary contributions to the field of art as well as the skill and craft to make a piece that would attract thousands of people to view them. Yet this sad man did not feel anything when he saw the pieces. He didn't feel the sense of awe knowing that he was looking at an original van Gogh. He didn't feel as if he was in the moment when looking at an original Monet. He didn't get that sense of whimsy from the Dufy they showed. Nothing.
Maybe I'm being over passionate, but I don't know how anyone can go into a gallery, a once in a lifetime chance no less, featuring some of the greatest names in the history of art and not feel something. It just doesn't make sense to me.
In all honesty, I thought that what I missed of the exhibit was going to take me a while to complete. In reality, it only took me two hours. I feel kind of guilty at such a short visit. I want to blame the crowd traffic, but then again, I was stupid enough to go on a weekend yet again. You think I'd learn by now.
Anyway, I saw the rest of the exhibits and began to take notes and observe. People seemed to notice that I was the only one in the whole gallery doing this! One parent said to her child that they should have brought their notebook for school to do the same thing. You would think teachers from Elementary Art all the way up to my level would have put this exhibit on their core curriculums by now.
As I observed the use of color and took notes on some of the more interesting and appealing paintings to myself, I began to people watch. Anyone that knows me knows that this is a habit of pleasure I do. The social groups this time around were mostly families, unlike the last time where it was mostly people of obvious wealth. Of the families, there seem to be a lot of high school kids, all of whom looked like they could care less about the art they were looking at. As if they were in it for the extra credit and the "easy A" that they need to graduate the class.
Well, enough about the people. Let's talk about the paintings.
All the paintings in the gallery were very beautiful and evoked the same feeling as the last time. A sense of awe and humility for me as an artist. One in particular that I had a hard time taking notes on was Courbet's Rocks at Mouthier. Nothing I could write down could do it any justice. It was a painting that I missed the first time around thanks to van Gogh and Cezanne. I mean, I missed it completely! The moment I saw it, I felt something that was the closest thing I could determine to be some kind of ethereal bliss and security. The kind that would rival the Kingdom of God kind of bliss. The color, the texture of the paint, the light and dark contrast. All of it! Every element! The painting was so beautiful like nothing I have ever seen in my life! I ended up visiting it three times while I was there. If I had the money, I'd buy it away from Duncan Phillips. Where I would put it, I don't know. That kind of ambitious (and fool-hearty) move is best reserved for when I actually have some kind of wealth.
Like with most of the patrons in all those Tycoon games, I was pleased with the exhibit to the point where I wanted to buy something. I looked around the mock gift shop that was set up within the gallery. I had a budget of $15, and everything within my range were post cards and little trinkets of that sort. There was nothing that had Courbet's Rocks at Mouthier on it with the exception of the beyond the ISM book they were selling for $20. I ended up buying one of those flip cubes that had a different picture of an Impressionistic painting depending on how to flip the various panels of the cube. Something to decorate my future computer station if I ever get one. Because I'm a Watkin's student, I got a discount off of it. That's right, I didn't have to pay taxes on it and then some. One of the better benefits about being a college student in a specialty school.
I think it is best if I close this blog with something I feel I need to express.
While I was waiting for my ride, a man approached me. He saw me inside the exhibit taking notes and wanted to know what the reason was. Was it for class or was it personal? Was it because I am an artist? Why was I taking notes inside. I politely explained that it is a little bit of both. I am an artist, even if in training, and I was advised to go to the exhibit to learn about the style and color use for Color Fundamentals for a gallery review report. I was also told to go for Art History Survey 2 because of how we are about to approach the Impressionistic movement in the class. The man nodded confirming that I have answered his question. He then said something that made me pity him. He said that he went through the entire exhibit, audio guide and all, and didn't feel a thing.
I don't know what it is about people, but to hear that from someone old enough to be my father just made me sad. How can anyone not feel moved by some of the artwork in that gallery? These were original van Gogh paintings! Original Cezanne! Even a rare Picasso sculpture!! To go in to this exhibit and not feel anything should be a crime! Not only were these artist revolutionary artists, they are considered the masters of the art world. People that go into the art want to be just like them in both their revolutionary contributions to the field of art as well as the skill and craft to make a piece that would attract thousands of people to view them. Yet this sad man did not feel anything when he saw the pieces. He didn't feel the sense of awe knowing that he was looking at an original van Gogh. He didn't feel as if he was in the moment when looking at an original Monet. He didn't get that sense of whimsy from the Dufy they showed. Nothing.
Maybe I'm being over passionate, but I don't know how anyone can go into a gallery, a once in a lifetime chance no less, featuring some of the greatest names in the history of art and not feel something. It just doesn't make sense to me.
Friday, February 27, 2004
My Dream Web Site
Just now, I was thinking about joining up with PrideSites and making a small and very crude looking site featuring my Austin Gordon pirated porn. You know, something to make some extra cash with secretly on the side.
The more I thought about it, however, the more I wanted to produce my dream web site.
I always wanted a website where you could explore the contents of my room. If you clicked on the computer, you were sent to this blog. If you clicked on the entertainment center, you were sent to a place where I would review all the videos and movies I own. If you clicked on my drawers, you were sent to a page where I would talk about the video games I own and play.
The highlight would be when you clicked on my trunk. You would be presented with a password prompt. If you didn't know it, you were sent to a picture of the trunk saying something along the lines of "I wonder what is inside here?" They way you would find out about the password into the trunk is to search the room. I'd have links to shelves of random stuff I have, to my laundry, to my desk. Once you found the password, then you could enter in the trunk.
Once inside, I would give anyone smart enough to find the password free downloads to various porn movies I would download. I would then call myself the Porn Pirate. Reason being because I would be distributing porn for free like a pirate, thereby making the studios loose money. The catch 22 is that the movies I would let people download, however high quality, will only be the ones that I like. Not everyone has the same taste as me. Sometimes people may want more of the same stuff that I am in to. If that is the case, well, that's why I have links here to adult sites. I don't make any money off of them, but then again, I don't really want to. I just want to distribute porn freely among the masses.
Too bad I know what kind of ramifications will happen if and when I actually do this. Oh well. I can always dream.
The more I thought about it, however, the more I wanted to produce my dream web site.
I always wanted a website where you could explore the contents of my room. If you clicked on the computer, you were sent to this blog. If you clicked on the entertainment center, you were sent to a place where I would review all the videos and movies I own. If you clicked on my drawers, you were sent to a page where I would talk about the video games I own and play.
The highlight would be when you clicked on my trunk. You would be presented with a password prompt. If you didn't know it, you were sent to a picture of the trunk saying something along the lines of "I wonder what is inside here?" They way you would find out about the password into the trunk is to search the room. I'd have links to shelves of random stuff I have, to my laundry, to my desk. Once you found the password, then you could enter in the trunk.
Once inside, I would give anyone smart enough to find the password free downloads to various porn movies I would download. I would then call myself the Porn Pirate. Reason being because I would be distributing porn for free like a pirate, thereby making the studios loose money. The catch 22 is that the movies I would let people download, however high quality, will only be the ones that I like. Not everyone has the same taste as me. Sometimes people may want more of the same stuff that I am in to. If that is the case, well, that's why I have links here to adult sites. I don't make any money off of them, but then again, I don't really want to. I just want to distribute porn freely among the masses.
Too bad I know what kind of ramifications will happen if and when I actually do this. Oh well. I can always dream.
I Waste Paint
I no longer trust my eyes. They always trick me into seeing something that isn't there. No wonder I can never see reality.
I actually met my goal for the Color mid-term and got one painting done this "weekend." The stupid thing was that the light changed on me while I was painting. I found a new reason to hate for working from life. When the light changed, the color changed on me. Color is important for this project. Naturally, I saw about five different color changes during the time I was painting. If I painted what I saw and not some kind of actually composition, then I would have this really strange picture that literally would get darker and change colors the farther down I went down the composition.
How the Impressionists were able to do it, I don't know. All I know is that trying to paint from life is really hard to do.
Now I need to buy more white and yellow.
I actually met my goal for the Color mid-term and got one painting done this "weekend." The stupid thing was that the light changed on me while I was painting. I found a new reason to hate for working from life. When the light changed, the color changed on me. Color is important for this project. Naturally, I saw about five different color changes during the time I was painting. If I painted what I saw and not some kind of actually composition, then I would have this really strange picture that literally would get darker and change colors the farther down I went down the composition.
How the Impressionists were able to do it, I don't know. All I know is that trying to paint from life is really hard to do.
Now I need to buy more white and yellow.
Rosie O'Donnell marries partner in S.F.
After a brief ceremony in the mayor's office, the couple descended City Hall's giant marble staircase while hundreds of spectators cheered and the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus sang "Going to the Chapel."
"We really did. We got married," said the smiling O'Donnell, clutching a bouquet of flowers.
"I want to thank the city of San Francisco for this amazing stance the mayor has taken for all the people here, not just us but all the thousands and thousands of loving, law-abiding couples," O'Donnell said.
News from Yahoo!
I love Rosie. Good for her! Maybe now people can actually put a face to the gay marriage issue, and I couldn't ask for a better face.
"We really did. We got married," said the smiling O'Donnell, clutching a bouquet of flowers.
"I want to thank the city of San Francisco for this amazing stance the mayor has taken for all the people here, not just us but all the thousands and thousands of loving, law-abiding couples," O'Donnell said.
News from Yahoo!
I love Rosie. Good for her! Maybe now people can actually put a face to the gay marriage issue, and I couldn't ask for a better face.
Switching Up
I woke up this morning realizing that I do not have the right clothes to go downtown today as I wanted to. If the temperature in my room told me anything, it told me that I need to invest in more jeans.
So, instead of going downtown today and tomorrow, I'll be going tomorrow and Sunday. Tomorrow will be the 10:00 to 17:00 at the Frist day, while Sunday will be the time I need at the library to do research.
Which means today I have to do the one project that I really do not want to do. An impressionistic painting for Color of a landscape scene somewhere around my house.
So, instead of going downtown today and tomorrow, I'll be going tomorrow and Sunday. Tomorrow will be the 10:00 to 17:00 at the Frist day, while Sunday will be the time I need at the library to do research.
Which means today I have to do the one project that I really do not want to do. An impressionistic painting for Color of a landscape scene somewhere around my house.
Thursday, February 26, 2004
No More K-Lite
I deleted K-Lite from this computer and everything I ever downloaded with it. All the MP3s and all the porn that I ever have had is gone with K-Lite. Why? I just felt like it was a waste of space. I could never find anything good on it, and when I do, I get bored with it within a week. If I ever miss it, I can always go to oldversions.com and get it.
Surprisingly, when I deleted it, I cleared up nearly two whole gigabytes of space on the hard drive. Who knew?
Surprisingly, when I deleted it, I cleared up nearly two whole gigabytes of space on the hard drive. Who knew?
Anti-Realism
The more I think about things, the more I end up getting a few things wrong. And the funny thing is, every time I start a blog with the words "the more I think about things," I always end up being right about something.
I had to take a walk around the building because the drawing room lights that were on were too soft. They kept putting me to sleep, and when I nap, I nap for two hours at a time. Maybe more depending on stress. In any event, not wanting to wake up to see that class as started (or ended and I slept through the whole thing), I took a walk up and down various halls of this fine art college I have enrolled.
I noticed that everyone in the Fine Arts wing is leaning, more or less, to realism. Granted that these are just exercises for future skills, but none the less, I appear to be the only one with a stylized way at looking at things. No matter what the subject, no matter what the medium, I simply refuse to draw or paint something realistically.
I don't know what it is about realism that makes me not want to do it. Maybe it is because I don't think I have the skills or the time to make things real. Maybe I don't trust my eyes. Maybe I don't want to see reality.
In any event, I really do not like to produce any art that is realistic. I believe that, while impressive, that type of art has gone the way of Michelangelo. In the to ground and dead. Abstracting a form or subject is also out of the window, because then everyone starts to compare you to Picasso. In honesty, I rather have a unique style, borrowing some elements from whatever I happen to be good at. Yes, I know that doesn't mean that I'll get any better, but who cares? So what if I peak in skill! So what if I end up producing the same thing over and over again! At least I will know just by looking at it in a room that I did something that has its own unique flavor to it. That's what made all the other famous artists so great. They did something and then added their own little twist to it to make it their own unique style.
Okay, now I'm getting preachy, but you get the point.
There is more to art than drawing or painting figures realistically, and more to stylized art than drawing a woman with three eyes and one brest.
I had to take a walk around the building because the drawing room lights that were on were too soft. They kept putting me to sleep, and when I nap, I nap for two hours at a time. Maybe more depending on stress. In any event, not wanting to wake up to see that class as started (or ended and I slept through the whole thing), I took a walk up and down various halls of this fine art college I have enrolled.
I noticed that everyone in the Fine Arts wing is leaning, more or less, to realism. Granted that these are just exercises for future skills, but none the less, I appear to be the only one with a stylized way at looking at things. No matter what the subject, no matter what the medium, I simply refuse to draw or paint something realistically.
I don't know what it is about realism that makes me not want to do it. Maybe it is because I don't think I have the skills or the time to make things real. Maybe I don't trust my eyes. Maybe I don't want to see reality.
In any event, I really do not like to produce any art that is realistic. I believe that, while impressive, that type of art has gone the way of Michelangelo. In the to ground and dead. Abstracting a form or subject is also out of the window, because then everyone starts to compare you to Picasso. In honesty, I rather have a unique style, borrowing some elements from whatever I happen to be good at. Yes, I know that doesn't mean that I'll get any better, but who cares? So what if I peak in skill! So what if I end up producing the same thing over and over again! At least I will know just by looking at it in a room that I did something that has its own unique flavor to it. That's what made all the other famous artists so great. They did something and then added their own little twist to it to make it their own unique style.
Okay, now I'm getting preachy, but you get the point.
There is more to art than drawing or painting figures realistically, and more to stylized art than drawing a woman with three eyes and one brest.
A Second View
Just so that I would have less to do, I was working on my Drawing 2 mid-term while I was waiting for said class to come around.
The deal is with this mid-term I can produce any picture of any size using any medium with NuPastels as long as the idea of "feeling drenched in a flood of connections" is in the piece.
See, knowing who I know (and I may be able to reveal who if things go all nice and neatly), that is one of my greatest fears of the future. I know that someone, somewhere, some time from now will want to contact me because I know someone that knows someone that knows someone they need.
So, I drew that.
Three hours later, I was done, but one thing bothered me. I couldn't get that weird, pale, glazed-over look in the face and eyes. Christina thinks it is because I outlined it. She liked it blurry. The thing is, I outlined it in ink because without it, you wouldn't see a figure. I guess outlining it was a mistake altogether. Yes, it made the piece cartoonish, and yes, I am trying to make cartoons a form of art even though I know there are others out there doing the same thing. For this piece, however, it just seems to hurt it more than help it.
I put it away for the time being and is going to do whatever I feel like on the computer for a while. After drawing for three hours straight on a mid-term project, I think I deserve some kind of break. I'll look at it again once I have forgotten what it looked like.
The deal is with this mid-term I can produce any picture of any size using any medium with NuPastels as long as the idea of "feeling drenched in a flood of connections" is in the piece.
See, knowing who I know (and I may be able to reveal who if things go all nice and neatly), that is one of my greatest fears of the future. I know that someone, somewhere, some time from now will want to contact me because I know someone that knows someone that knows someone they need.
So, I drew that.
Three hours later, I was done, but one thing bothered me. I couldn't get that weird, pale, glazed-over look in the face and eyes. Christina thinks it is because I outlined it. She liked it blurry. The thing is, I outlined it in ink because without it, you wouldn't see a figure. I guess outlining it was a mistake altogether. Yes, it made the piece cartoonish, and yes, I am trying to make cartoons a form of art even though I know there are others out there doing the same thing. For this piece, however, it just seems to hurt it more than help it.
I put it away for the time being and is going to do whatever I feel like on the computer for a while. After drawing for three hours straight on a mid-term project, I think I deserve some kind of break. I'll look at it again once I have forgotten what it looked like.
I'm Insane
After reading through that site I found some more, I found out that I was stupidly insane to even follow the damn movie and not masturbate for Lent. According to the site, they recommend that men shouldn't masturbate more than 3 times a week. After reading that, I realized that I am insane to think that I over do it with pleasing myself. In other words, once again, I think I'm bad when I'm really normal. (Isn't the word for that 'hypocondriactic' or am I thinking of something else?)
In any event, that little choice has been retracted and life will go back to normal, or as normal life can get for me at least.
If I have any kind of problem at all sexually, it is the fact that I'm not getting any.
In any event, that little choice has been retracted and life will go back to normal, or as normal life can get for me at least.
If I have any kind of problem at all sexually, it is the fact that I'm not getting any.
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
Imitating Art
It's kind of strange how I can access a medical site from the school library's computer involving masturbation and not get in trouble for it.
HerboLove was a site that I stumbled upon just now when I was trying to figure out if I think too much about porn, sex, or whatever. I decided to run my blog through a Google search using key little code words to search must my own site. (Maybe I should add that into the HTML of the template. I'll do that when I have more time.) It turns out I think about the perversions of sex and porn way too much. That can only conclude in my mind that I masturbate too much.
You can see where this is going, can't you?
I am going to see if I can or cannot live without pleasing myself for the next 40 days of Lent.
Yes, I saw the movie, and I actually liked it from a funny point of view, namely the parts where the main character's friends keep betting on him. Thankfully my current network of friends isn't like that or that evil.
I read some of the stuff on the site mentioned above, and I am worried about a few things other than performance (like I'm ever going to get that chance anyway). Keep in mind that I know I will never have kids, but I also want to keep my hair and what remains of my vision. No, seriously! That isn't an old-wives tale! Go to the site yourself and find out!
Oh well, at least I'm off to a good start seeing how today is the start of the 40 Days of Lent. If I can make it to midnight, I only have 39 days left to survive.
God, help me...
HerboLove was a site that I stumbled upon just now when I was trying to figure out if I think too much about porn, sex, or whatever. I decided to run my blog through a Google search using key little code words to search must my own site. (Maybe I should add that into the HTML of the template. I'll do that when I have more time.) It turns out I think about the perversions of sex and porn way too much. That can only conclude in my mind that I masturbate too much.
You can see where this is going, can't you?
I am going to see if I can or cannot live without pleasing myself for the next 40 days of Lent.
Yes, I saw the movie, and I actually liked it from a funny point of view, namely the parts where the main character's friends keep betting on him. Thankfully my current network of friends isn't like that or that evil.
I read some of the stuff on the site mentioned above, and I am worried about a few things other than performance (like I'm ever going to get that chance anyway). Keep in mind that I know I will never have kids, but I also want to keep my hair and what remains of my vision. No, seriously! That isn't an old-wives tale! Go to the site yourself and find out!
Oh well, at least I'm off to a good start seeing how today is the start of the 40 Days of Lent. If I can make it to midnight, I only have 39 days left to survive.
God, help me...
If I may be so bold as to exercise my 1st Amendment Rights...
There have been only two news stories that I've been following for the last week or two. The first is the hype and controversy that surrounds Mel Gibson's new movie The Passion. I am mainly interested in the fact that everyone has an opinion about this movie that opens today. I like to see a religious debate and people questioning their religion for once instead of accepting it blindly. It helps me assure myself that people are really thinking out there.
However, the second news story that has got my attention more than anything involves "Dubaya" wanting to amend the US Constitution to ban gay marriages.
Someone definitely pushed the red button with that one.
With that one statement, Bush has lost all of his gay voters. I'm sure a straight voters, hopefully Republican, have also lost faith in Bush's leadership. There is no separation of church and state anymore. Church and state seems to be fully established under the control of someone who puts their beliefs before their job. But I'm being unfair in saying that.
The stupid thing is, the Democrat aren't doing themselves any favors in this. With the door literally blown open, neither one of the top two candidates for the up-coming election are taking advantage of this and trying to win over the lost gay votes. In fact, both of them look rather uncomfortable talking about the subject when the cameras and press are breathing down them.
If I was a registered voter, I would refuse to vote this election. I cannot support anyone anymore! Not only did no one win me over to their camp with their weak platforms, but now they have insulted me as a citizen of "the land of the free." I cannot vote for someone that believes in discriminating someone based on the fact they love someone of the same gender, be it seen as a life style choice or as a condition of birth.
The whole thing makes me mad. My imagination run with so many possibilities. If they have their way, that means there would be raids and arrests made upon the over 4,000 gay and lesbian couples that have been already married. Emotions and tension would be so high and so thick you could cut it with a knife! Hate crimes would be rising. Gay teens would be afraid to come out of the closet knowing full well they are not accepted anymore by law. And all those marriages that will end in divorce because one or both of the spouses couldn't live a lie.
It is events and issues like these that make me wonder if I should have killed myself a long time ago.
However, the second news story that has got my attention more than anything involves "Dubaya" wanting to amend the US Constitution to ban gay marriages.
Someone definitely pushed the red button with that one.
With that one statement, Bush has lost all of his gay voters. I'm sure a straight voters, hopefully Republican, have also lost faith in Bush's leadership. There is no separation of church and state anymore. Church and state seems to be fully established under the control of someone who puts their beliefs before their job. But I'm being unfair in saying that.
The stupid thing is, the Democrat aren't doing themselves any favors in this. With the door literally blown open, neither one of the top two candidates for the up-coming election are taking advantage of this and trying to win over the lost gay votes. In fact, both of them look rather uncomfortable talking about the subject when the cameras and press are breathing down them.
If I was a registered voter, I would refuse to vote this election. I cannot support anyone anymore! Not only did no one win me over to their camp with their weak platforms, but now they have insulted me as a citizen of "the land of the free." I cannot vote for someone that believes in discriminating someone based on the fact they love someone of the same gender, be it seen as a life style choice or as a condition of birth.
The whole thing makes me mad. My imagination run with so many possibilities. If they have their way, that means there would be raids and arrests made upon the over 4,000 gay and lesbian couples that have been already married. Emotions and tension would be so high and so thick you could cut it with a knife! Hate crimes would be rising. Gay teens would be afraid to come out of the closet knowing full well they are not accepted anymore by law. And all those marriages that will end in divorce because one or both of the spouses couldn't live a lie.
It is events and issues like these that make me wonder if I should have killed myself a long time ago.
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
A Case of Double Misidentification
Another tour group of high schoolers came by today. I should have just avoided them as best I could, but one person waved at me. I had to look twice to make sure that she was someone I knew. I actually thought that it was Miriam, my old tutor in high school. Turns out that she wasn't. She, also, thought I was someone else she knew.
Feeling kind of red-faced and embarrassed, I quickly left and went to the cafe to relax some. Instead, I was hounded my high schoolers left and right wondering what I am doing for what class. I ignored the ones that I could while playing around with the preppie ones a bit.
What I mean is this. I noticed that one of them was going to get a drink from the drinking fountain. I casually said that "I wouldn't drink from there if I were you." This is true because the water from there taste like they haven't been filtered. Up until he left, the guy was as paranoid as a soccer mom after 9-11.
During this time, I was drawing a little Shoyru. Almost every girl that passed by me looked at my sketch book and said that what I was drawing was cute. I thanked them and went back to work soon after. They walked off, for the most part.
Interestingly enough, the girl I thought was Miriam came by and began to talk to me. We held a small conversation and apologized to each other for thinking we were someone we obviously weren't. After a short conversation about the world of art and the careers we could look forward to doing in the discipline, I couldn't help but remember how many friendships I've actually formed based off of mistaken identity. It would appear that in the characteristic of dumb luck, mistaking someone for someone else I know seems to help me more than it hurts me if I open my mouth and ask "Don't I know you?" While I think that this could be done more often to help me gain some kind of social life, I know that would get really strange.
Still, it is kind of strange how most of my conversations with some random stranger I don't know and most likely do not see on a daily basis always start with "Don't I know you from somewhere?
Feeling kind of red-faced and embarrassed, I quickly left and went to the cafe to relax some. Instead, I was hounded my high schoolers left and right wondering what I am doing for what class. I ignored the ones that I could while playing around with the preppie ones a bit.
What I mean is this. I noticed that one of them was going to get a drink from the drinking fountain. I casually said that "I wouldn't drink from there if I were you." This is true because the water from there taste like they haven't been filtered. Up until he left, the guy was as paranoid as a soccer mom after 9-11.
During this time, I was drawing a little Shoyru. Almost every girl that passed by me looked at my sketch book and said that what I was drawing was cute. I thanked them and went back to work soon after. They walked off, for the most part.
Interestingly enough, the girl I thought was Miriam came by and began to talk to me. We held a small conversation and apologized to each other for thinking we were someone we obviously weren't. After a short conversation about the world of art and the careers we could look forward to doing in the discipline, I couldn't help but remember how many friendships I've actually formed based off of mistaken identity. It would appear that in the characteristic of dumb luck, mistaking someone for someone else I know seems to help me more than it hurts me if I open my mouth and ask "Don't I know you?" While I think that this could be done more often to help me gain some kind of social life, I know that would get really strange.
Still, it is kind of strange how most of my conversations with some random stranger I don't know and most likely do not see on a daily basis always start with "Don't I know you from somewhere?
Driving (Second Gear)
I was able to get a ride to the study group last night. Things didn't really pick up until an hour into the session, when I had to leave. It's amazing how fast time flies.
The more I think about my early departure from the group, the more I'm starting to see why I should learn how to drive. The more I see why I should learn to drive, the more I wish I had a set of parents or teachers that would teach me in the only way I know how to learn in situations that I, quiet honestly, don't really want to learn.
As juvenile as it sounds, I need some kind of incentive to learn how to drive. Oh, I know that there is a bigger benefit to driving, namely the freedom to go wherever and whenever. I just need some kind of actual reward or goal to get me to actually learn outside of the fact that I'll save X% on my car insurance because I had Driver's Ed.
No wonder people describe me as "special."
The more I think about my early departure from the group, the more I'm starting to see why I should learn how to drive. The more I see why I should learn to drive, the more I wish I had a set of parents or teachers that would teach me in the only way I know how to learn in situations that I, quiet honestly, don't really want to learn.
As juvenile as it sounds, I need some kind of incentive to learn how to drive. Oh, I know that there is a bigger benefit to driving, namely the freedom to go wherever and whenever. I just need some kind of actual reward or goal to get me to actually learn outside of the fact that I'll save X% on my car insurance because I had Driver's Ed.
No wonder people describe me as "special."
Monday, February 23, 2004
Driving
Tonight, I have a study group with Jaime and Christina for tomorrow's Art History mid-term. While I'm all for a study group, I have no way of really getting to and from school. I tried to ask if anyone could take me, but since we all have to get up early tomorrow, chances were slim given how far out I live. The study group starts at 21:00.
When my dad came and picked me up, I asked if he could drive me out here for a study group. He answered with silence. I asked him if that means he didn't want to. He said in a very reluctant tone that he would take me to school and back for the study group.
That triggered off something in my head.
For a few days now, I have been feeling rather forced to do things that I know I should be learning on my own, or rather, should have learned already. The main one is driving. This weight on my mind started when my mother told me that I will have to learn how to drive since my sister is going to college out of state. The main reason is because she doesn't think that she can take me in the morning anymore when that time comes. I called her on it and said she is just looking for a second driver to take her all over the place. As rude as that was, she just smiled and admitted to it. And you thought I was bad, huh?
So, here I am. I have to go downtown twice before the weekend is over. Once for a report on the exhibit going on right now at the Frist, and another to do some research on the social commentaries behind comic books. I also have to get back to school tonight if I want to have any kind of hope of scoring higher than a 70 on my mid-term. Combine that with the fact that I need to do two landscapes for Color as well as who-knows-what-else for school, mix in the regret I'm still feeling for what I did to James, and you can pretty much see why I was so silent on the ride home this afternoon.
I just hope I'm not this distracted if I am able to get to the study group tonight.
When my dad came and picked me up, I asked if he could drive me out here for a study group. He answered with silence. I asked him if that means he didn't want to. He said in a very reluctant tone that he would take me to school and back for the study group.
That triggered off something in my head.
For a few days now, I have been feeling rather forced to do things that I know I should be learning on my own, or rather, should have learned already. The main one is driving. This weight on my mind started when my mother told me that I will have to learn how to drive since my sister is going to college out of state. The main reason is because she doesn't think that she can take me in the morning anymore when that time comes. I called her on it and said she is just looking for a second driver to take her all over the place. As rude as that was, she just smiled and admitted to it. And you thought I was bad, huh?
So, here I am. I have to go downtown twice before the weekend is over. Once for a report on the exhibit going on right now at the Frist, and another to do some research on the social commentaries behind comic books. I also have to get back to school tonight if I want to have any kind of hope of scoring higher than a 70 on my mid-term. Combine that with the fact that I need to do two landscapes for Color as well as who-knows-what-else for school, mix in the regret I'm still feeling for what I did to James, and you can pretty much see why I was so silent on the ride home this afternoon.
I just hope I'm not this distracted if I am able to get to the study group tonight.
My Own Pleasure vs. My Priorities
One other thing I didn't mention that Ryan said to me the other night involved James's offer to help my sexual repression problem.
Apparently, from what I understand, had I played down my priorities, James would have been puddy in my hands. He would be here being all romantic and probably do whatever I wanted to.
But, naturally, I screwed that up due to my own sense of priority.
Ever since I found that out, I've been replaying that night in my head trying to figure out from a logical, if not completely fantasized, point of view. I saw what I should have said and how it would have played out. Then my imagination stopped. This rarely happens. The only reason it ever stops is because I am trying to imagine something that I know I cannot begin to fathom.
My imagination stopped just before James and I have sex.
More omens and signs of things that I know will probably never happen at this point.
All I know is that I just screwed myself over in getting screwed by the best thing to come into my life.
Apparently, from what I understand, had I played down my priorities, James would have been puddy in my hands. He would be here being all romantic and probably do whatever I wanted to.
But, naturally, I screwed that up due to my own sense of priority.
Ever since I found that out, I've been replaying that night in my head trying to figure out from a logical, if not completely fantasized, point of view. I saw what I should have said and how it would have played out. Then my imagination stopped. This rarely happens. The only reason it ever stops is because I am trying to imagine something that I know I cannot begin to fathom.
My imagination stopped just before James and I have sex.
More omens and signs of things that I know will probably never happen at this point.
All I know is that I just screwed myself over in getting screwed by the best thing to come into my life.
Another Number I Don't Know
When I woke up this morning via my alarms (yes, as in more than one), I noticed that I had missed yet another call on my cell phone. Because of the fact that it is way too early to even think about calling the number back, my curiosity was peaked. After getting everything down stairs that I need to put into the car, I decided to Google the number. I was told that Google will then link up to some local phone network and find a Yahoo! map to where the number came from. The perfect tool for stalkers. Well, the place that came back with the number that called me was a steak house in Goodlettsville. Knowing that Google doesn't recognize cell phone numbers, I pretty much determined that the number came from someone at school. Who? I don't know. All I know is that it didn't come from Jaime, Ken, or Christina.
Sunday, February 22, 2004
My Main Flaw
I talked to Ryan last night. Ryan is James's ex-ex-boyfriend's little brother. The kid is so mature for his age it makes me hopeful for the coming generation. I wish I had someone like him to hang around with while growing up.
Anyway, we started talking about various things and somehow got on to the subject about how I really do not like myself for one reason or another. Ryan believes that this is the main cause for people not being so... receptive to me. They can endure me, but I don't think they enjoy my company. He told me that before I go to bed to look at myself in the mirror and determine what it is that I do not like about myself. Then write it down, or something to that effect.
I did what he said, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was that I didn't like about myself. So I slept on it.
This morning, I found out what it was that makes me hate myself so much. My main flaw is that I keep comparing myself to other people! My sister, James, Ryan, anyone that I feel is better than me in one fashion or another. This is why I do not like myself as much as I should. Sure, I have insecurities and quirks, but that is normal for everyone. However, the one thing that I should not do is be so belittling when it comes to the fact that I will never be as hot and sexy as James, I will never be able to hold down a job as well as Zero, and I will never be as smart or as resourceful as my sister. I just have to accept it, move on, and stop comparing myself to them. I have to be myself and stop wishing I was someone else who I think is better than me in one area.
As easy as it is to say all this, I know the real battle is making myself do it. I should just stop comparing myself to everyone, but I know that I will need some kind of help to get into that habit.
Anyway, we started talking about various things and somehow got on to the subject about how I really do not like myself for one reason or another. Ryan believes that this is the main cause for people not being so... receptive to me. They can endure me, but I don't think they enjoy my company. He told me that before I go to bed to look at myself in the mirror and determine what it is that I do not like about myself. Then write it down, or something to that effect.
I did what he said, but I couldn't put my finger on what it was that I didn't like about myself. So I slept on it.
This morning, I found out what it was that makes me hate myself so much. My main flaw is that I keep comparing myself to other people! My sister, James, Ryan, anyone that I feel is better than me in one fashion or another. This is why I do not like myself as much as I should. Sure, I have insecurities and quirks, but that is normal for everyone. However, the one thing that I should not do is be so belittling when it comes to the fact that I will never be as hot and sexy as James, I will never be able to hold down a job as well as Zero, and I will never be as smart or as resourceful as my sister. I just have to accept it, move on, and stop comparing myself to them. I have to be myself and stop wishing I was someone else who I think is better than me in one area.
As easy as it is to say all this, I know the real battle is making myself do it. I should just stop comparing myself to everyone, but I know that I will need some kind of help to get into that habit.
Saturday, February 21, 2004
From Hate Comes Love
When you were little, did you ever hate someone of the opposite sex only to hear everyone around you saying that the two of you will get married? Did you ever wonder if they were right or wrong? (A better question would be WERE they right or wrong?) Did you ever wonder what they meant by what they said?
Well, I woke up this morning and watched my cartoons knowing full well that I wouldn't get to see one of the new episodes. I know, I can always catch them during the reruns, which I intend to do. The thing is, while I was watching them, I noticed my 3-D assignment. For some reason, it looked rather appealing. I forgot about all the pain, all the sweat, all the frustrations that it caused me and started to actually like it. The fact that it has two different shades of white didn't bother me. It looked like something that would grab people's attention. It actually looked cool in an artistic kind of way.
For something to cause so much hate and anger as far as process goes, the end result is really enjoyable.
Funny how that is the same deal with life. The road you live is going to be hard and frustrating and, dare I say, stupidly filled with pot-holes, but in the end, you'll find something you really like that is worth all the pain and suffering you've gone through.
Unfortunately for me, I have more pain and suffering to go through before I collect whatever it is that is suppose to give me true bliss in life.
Well, I woke up this morning and watched my cartoons knowing full well that I wouldn't get to see one of the new episodes. I know, I can always catch them during the reruns, which I intend to do. The thing is, while I was watching them, I noticed my 3-D assignment. For some reason, it looked rather appealing. I forgot about all the pain, all the sweat, all the frustrations that it caused me and started to actually like it. The fact that it has two different shades of white didn't bother me. It looked like something that would grab people's attention. It actually looked cool in an artistic kind of way.
For something to cause so much hate and anger as far as process goes, the end result is really enjoyable.
Funny how that is the same deal with life. The road you live is going to be hard and frustrating and, dare I say, stupidly filled with pot-holes, but in the end, you'll find something you really like that is worth all the pain and suffering you've gone through.
Unfortunately for me, I have more pain and suffering to go through before I collect whatever it is that is suppose to give me true bliss in life.
Friday, February 20, 2004
Sweating Artist
Whoever said art is no sweat is a liar!
As soon as the sun went down, I set up a small lighting area in the living room. I did six different shots outside of the outside one. Now all I need to do is get the film developed and make sure they print every picture out. I even need the ones that didn't come out because they were too dark for whatever reason.
So let's see. My lighting situations are:
As soon as the sun went down, I set up a small lighting area in the living room. I did six different shots outside of the outside one. Now all I need to do is get the film developed and make sure they print every picture out. I even need the ones that didn't come out because they were too dark for whatever reason.
So let's see. My lighting situations are:
- Exterior - Natural Light - Overcast Sky
- Interior - Artificial Light - Back Lighting
- Interior - Artificial Light - Spotlight - 3/4 High - NW Aim
- Interior - Natural Light - Candle Light - One Source - Practical - On Object
- Interior - Artificial Light - Flashbulb (even though I'm not suppose to do this)
- Interior - Artificial Light - Ambient Light - One Source
I hate my 3-D assignment.
No, I mean I really HATE my 3-D assignment. Ever since the first step, it's been nothing but hell for me.
And the hell continues today.
After spending seven hours on it, I decided that it was time for me to start spray painting it. I go outside to the back deck, already white, to spray paint the tape and foam board so that there wouldn't be a glare. All was going well until I had to get to the bottom part of the piece. That's when I noticed that air was coming out, but paint wasn't. I shook the can for what felt like forever. Again, nothing but air. I checked the labels and writing. It said that it can easily cover an area of 25 sq. feet. I looked at my project knowing that the surface area of it could not be more than that. Apparently, my stupidity in thinking this made me try the damn can again. Still nothing but air.
I started to panic. I still had areas where the tape had a stronger glare than the board. That would really screw up my shots that I need to take of it later tonight in the various lighting situations. I called my dad to see if he could pick up some spray paint on the way home while I waited for this to dry. He didn't cooperate. I honestly didn't expect him to, but it would have been nice of him. My emotions took over once I got a round-about no out of him. I hung up and became even more panicked than I was before I called. Not knowing what else to do, I figured the best I could hope for is to use the fixative to kill the glare difference between the tape and the board.
While I did achieve my goal, the damn thing is now two different shades of white. While the majority of it is still the same color of white of the spray paint, the lower fourth of it is the original color of the foam board and tape.
My project is not suppose to be two tone. It is suppose to be a flat white color. No shading differences what so ever. When I told my teacher about my concern about the glare caused by the tape, she told me that I should either spray paint it all down or not spray paint it at all.
While I like for my projects to have some kind of distortion and impurities, I don't like it when they are put to a grading scale. I really don't. Why? Because then the perfectionist inside me comes out with a vengeance, and right now, he's really pissed off at how this assignment looks.
Yes, I know that most artists never like what they produce anyway, but I'm not saying that because I'm an artist. I really hate the way this piece looks. There's nothing I can do about it now, though. I've gone through too much frustrations and anger spells to keep at it. Right now, I want to burn it.
I might as well go ahead and take the damn pictures of it. Get everything over with that way I can forget about it all.
That is, until Monday's critique.
This combined with what happened last night is not helping me emotionally. They really aren't.
And the hell continues today.
After spending seven hours on it, I decided that it was time for me to start spray painting it. I go outside to the back deck, already white, to spray paint the tape and foam board so that there wouldn't be a glare. All was going well until I had to get to the bottom part of the piece. That's when I noticed that air was coming out, but paint wasn't. I shook the can for what felt like forever. Again, nothing but air. I checked the labels and writing. It said that it can easily cover an area of 25 sq. feet. I looked at my project knowing that the surface area of it could not be more than that. Apparently, my stupidity in thinking this made me try the damn can again. Still nothing but air.
I started to panic. I still had areas where the tape had a stronger glare than the board. That would really screw up my shots that I need to take of it later tonight in the various lighting situations. I called my dad to see if he could pick up some spray paint on the way home while I waited for this to dry. He didn't cooperate. I honestly didn't expect him to, but it would have been nice of him. My emotions took over once I got a round-about no out of him. I hung up and became even more panicked than I was before I called. Not knowing what else to do, I figured the best I could hope for is to use the fixative to kill the glare difference between the tape and the board.
While I did achieve my goal, the damn thing is now two different shades of white. While the majority of it is still the same color of white of the spray paint, the lower fourth of it is the original color of the foam board and tape.
My project is not suppose to be two tone. It is suppose to be a flat white color. No shading differences what so ever. When I told my teacher about my concern about the glare caused by the tape, she told me that I should either spray paint it all down or not spray paint it at all.
While I like for my projects to have some kind of distortion and impurities, I don't like it when they are put to a grading scale. I really don't. Why? Because then the perfectionist inside me comes out with a vengeance, and right now, he's really pissed off at how this assignment looks.
Yes, I know that most artists never like what they produce anyway, but I'm not saying that because I'm an artist. I really hate the way this piece looks. There's nothing I can do about it now, though. I've gone through too much frustrations and anger spells to keep at it. Right now, I want to burn it.
I might as well go ahead and take the damn pictures of it. Get everything over with that way I can forget about it all.
That is, until Monday's critique.
This combined with what happened last night is not helping me emotionally. They really aren't.
Turning Down Two Guys in One Night
I started out my Bum Day for the first time in two weeks with going online and talking to Zero. We talked about various things like my blog, Neopets, and (of course) men.
While talking to her about the last subject, we somehow got on the topic of James. I told her a few things about James that really upsets me, some if not all of which I've blogged about. I told her these things because I knew that if I told James what I told her, James would be unphased by it. He's stubborn like that. He's also making me feel uncomfortable in this little affair of his. I mean, the freaking Adonis is taken! And not because of love, but because he was the last one to start dating in a house full of gay guys that were already dating and/or getting married somewhere other than in the US. For someone that preaches and leads the religious youth of America, it looks as if when he hooked up with who he is with now, that all he was doing was following the heard. This was confirmed later in the evening when I talked to him. More on that soon.
Zero told me that I don't need a guy like that and deserve better. She thinks I deserve a guy that isn't afraid to set foot in my school even if the last time we talked we had a fight. She thinks that I deserve someone that loves me and understands me and not some conformist. Someone that can be their own person.
Whether I meant to or not, I took that conversation to heart.
Later last night, Leo signs on under James's IM name. I talk to him, mess around with him, lead him on. Basically, I just played around with him online. Suddenly, I got so horny that I couldn't stand it. Apparently, Leo did too. For some bizarre reason, I told him that if he wants to get to my ass, he had to go through James. That turned him off, and he left.
James then popped in and we started to exchange IMs. The conversation was slow in itself. Nothing of real interest until later on when James offered his "services" to help me with my "problem." I told him that he would have to meet the folks.
See, the reason for that is because I made a promise to myself that the first person of those boys to come down to do whatever with me was going to be the little lab rat with my folks. My parents do not really like anyone I befriend unless they meet them in one form or another. It has always been like that, and it is the best way I can avoid playing the Twenty Questions game that they always play when I come home with someone they don't know or have not seen before. It is their biggest hang up, really. Not meeting a person that I befriend.
Anyway, this triggered off James's conformity ideas. He said all that he had in mind was a fling, something I don't need permission from my parents to do, especially since I'm 20. He said all the usual things that everyone else over there has told me at least once or twice before at some kind of situation that involves my parents. That's when I realized how much he really was following the heard instead of leading the pack.
I wanted to say this to his face. Hell, I just wanted him to know how I feel about him now. Before I left IMs, all I said to him was that I am ashamed that I thought so highly of him.
The stupid thing is, I should be more ashamed at the fact that I am worst than any conformist will ever be. After all, all I was doing this entire time was entertaining his IMs to make him happy since everyone and their daddy has told me that he isn't truly happy.
While talking to her about the last subject, we somehow got on the topic of James. I told her a few things about James that really upsets me, some if not all of which I've blogged about. I told her these things because I knew that if I told James what I told her, James would be unphased by it. He's stubborn like that. He's also making me feel uncomfortable in this little affair of his. I mean, the freaking Adonis is taken! And not because of love, but because he was the last one to start dating in a house full of gay guys that were already dating and/or getting married somewhere other than in the US. For someone that preaches and leads the religious youth of America, it looks as if when he hooked up with who he is with now, that all he was doing was following the heard. This was confirmed later in the evening when I talked to him. More on that soon.
Zero told me that I don't need a guy like that and deserve better. She thinks I deserve a guy that isn't afraid to set foot in my school even if the last time we talked we had a fight. She thinks that I deserve someone that loves me and understands me and not some conformist. Someone that can be their own person.
Whether I meant to or not, I took that conversation to heart.
Later last night, Leo signs on under James's IM name. I talk to him, mess around with him, lead him on. Basically, I just played around with him online. Suddenly, I got so horny that I couldn't stand it. Apparently, Leo did too. For some bizarre reason, I told him that if he wants to get to my ass, he had to go through James. That turned him off, and he left.
James then popped in and we started to exchange IMs. The conversation was slow in itself. Nothing of real interest until later on when James offered his "services" to help me with my "problem." I told him that he would have to meet the folks.
See, the reason for that is because I made a promise to myself that the first person of those boys to come down to do whatever with me was going to be the little lab rat with my folks. My parents do not really like anyone I befriend unless they meet them in one form or another. It has always been like that, and it is the best way I can avoid playing the Twenty Questions game that they always play when I come home with someone they don't know or have not seen before. It is their biggest hang up, really. Not meeting a person that I befriend.
Anyway, this triggered off James's conformity ideas. He said all that he had in mind was a fling, something I don't need permission from my parents to do, especially since I'm 20. He said all the usual things that everyone else over there has told me at least once or twice before at some kind of situation that involves my parents. That's when I realized how much he really was following the heard instead of leading the pack.
I wanted to say this to his face. Hell, I just wanted him to know how I feel about him now. Before I left IMs, all I said to him was that I am ashamed that I thought so highly of him.
The stupid thing is, I should be more ashamed at the fact that I am worst than any conformist will ever be. After all, all I was doing this entire time was entertaining his IMs to make him happy since everyone and their daddy has told me that he isn't truly happy.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
"I'm free! I'm free! ...Dang it!"
I finally got everything that is due as far as immediate assignments out of the way during my five hour wait with just a little over one and a half hours to spare! There's productivity for you!
The only thing is that now I have one major assignment left to do. Take a guess what that is. Oh yeah, my little 3-D chair.
While trying to figure out what to do with the current design, I saw that Brett was out of class. Since he has already had 3-D design and works in the third dimension (Sounds like something for the Twilight Zone or Sci-Fi channel, doesn't it?), I knew he would be the best person to ask for opinions on. I showed him my idea and was able to bounce ideas back and forth to him. He said that I am on the right track as far as making the object visually interesting. He also likes the idea of non-functional furniture. He did see my "ideal version" drawing first before he saw my ideas. My ideal is to make it into a nice and functioning piece of furniture art, but I know that I have neither the time, skills, or resources to pull it off. Brett liked that chair better than the non-functional foam board one that I am working on now.
At least I feel better about going into this project now. I couldn't ask for anything more.
The only thing is that now I have one major assignment left to do. Take a guess what that is. Oh yeah, my little 3-D chair.
While trying to figure out what to do with the current design, I saw that Brett was out of class. Since he has already had 3-D design and works in the third dimension (Sounds like something for the Twilight Zone or Sci-Fi channel, doesn't it?), I knew he would be the best person to ask for opinions on. I showed him my idea and was able to bounce ideas back and forth to him. He said that I am on the right track as far as making the object visually interesting. He also likes the idea of non-functional furniture. He did see my "ideal version" drawing first before he saw my ideas. My ideal is to make it into a nice and functioning piece of furniture art, but I know that I have neither the time, skills, or resources to pull it off. Brett liked that chair better than the non-functional foam board one that I am working on now.
At least I feel better about going into this project now. I couldn't ask for anything more.
"I'm trying to teach you how to problem solve. This is a problem solving class just as much as it is a 3-D design class."
After being angry at my piece all day yesterday to the point where I couldn't work at all (and after suffering through a dream where RuPaul was a really funny preacher), I finally figured out what to do with the chair project of mine for 3-D.
Well, partly. I actually figured out how to free up my five hour break once I get to school so I can concentrate on the project seeing how I didn't do an once of work yesterday.
I've pretty much decided that all day Friday will be devoted to finishing up this 3-D thing. That means spray painting it white so that I don't get a glare off the tape and setting up my lighting situations. Once that's done, I have two rolls of film I need developed next time Dad goes to Sam's Club.
Hopefully, I won't have any other assignments handed to me today.
Well, partly. I actually figured out how to free up my five hour break once I get to school so I can concentrate on the project seeing how I didn't do an once of work yesterday.
I've pretty much decided that all day Friday will be devoted to finishing up this 3-D thing. That means spray painting it white so that I don't get a glare off the tape and setting up my lighting situations. Once that's done, I have two rolls of film I need developed next time Dad goes to Sam's Club.
Hopefully, I won't have any other assignments handed to me today.
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
Angry at My Own Creation
I knew this was going to happen. I just knew it!
When it got time for me to go home, I was faced with a puzzle. How to get my piece, which is bigger than the car doors will allow, into the car without bending or breaking it.
Guess what?
In its previous incarnation, it was nearly impossible to put inside the car! On top of that, two areas nearly broke in half!
I have concluded that the piece can be no higher and no wider than it is now, or else I will have a pile of broken foam board instead of an art piece.
The situation has got me so pissed off right now that I cannot even look at the piece to work on it! I should do my Color homework or even my Drawing 2 homework, but I know for a fact that I cannot because of how mad that piece makes me. It will always be there, in my room, just mocking me. I can't put it anywhere else because someone is bound to find it, find me, and then start asking me about it.
Today has been ruined by myself. Not only am I mad at myself, my anger and frustration has rubbed off onto my dad. That is NOT a good thing! Putting that in bold face just doesn't give the emphasis enough justice. It's bad enough that I have to deal with my damn piece. Dealing with an angry father is another thing, especially in an Asian family like mine.
When it got time for me to go home, I was faced with a puzzle. How to get my piece, which is bigger than the car doors will allow, into the car without bending or breaking it.
Guess what?
In its previous incarnation, it was nearly impossible to put inside the car! On top of that, two areas nearly broke in half!
I have concluded that the piece can be no higher and no wider than it is now, or else I will have a pile of broken foam board instead of an art piece.
The situation has got me so pissed off right now that I cannot even look at the piece to work on it! I should do my Color homework or even my Drawing 2 homework, but I know for a fact that I cannot because of how mad that piece makes me. It will always be there, in my room, just mocking me. I can't put it anywhere else because someone is bound to find it, find me, and then start asking me about it.
Today has been ruined by myself. Not only am I mad at myself, my anger and frustration has rubbed off onto my dad. That is NOT a good thing! Putting that in bold face just doesn't give the emphasis enough justice. It's bad enough that I have to deal with my damn piece. Dealing with an angry father is another thing, especially in an Asian family like mine.
Going Too Big
I think I did a mistake with my art work that normally wouldn't be a mistake. At least, not in the artistic sense of the word.
My 3-D piece that I was working on got a whole lot larger. In fact, it tripled in height. The thing is though, even though it tripled in height, the actual mass of the piece is only in about one and a half foot in maximum width. This means, for you smart people out there, that what I have added on to the piece is thinner than what I started with.
Don't get me wrong with all this technical stuff! The work looks great! The only thing I do not like about it is that it has a really high risk of breaking in transit to, from, and back to school.
Why couldn't I be one of those artists that likes to work on small things that can be easily transported? Why did I have to end up being the one that not only thinks big but does things big?
My 3-D piece that I was working on got a whole lot larger. In fact, it tripled in height. The thing is though, even though it tripled in height, the actual mass of the piece is only in about one and a half foot in maximum width. This means, for you smart people out there, that what I have added on to the piece is thinner than what I started with.
Don't get me wrong with all this technical stuff! The work looks great! The only thing I do not like about it is that it has a really high risk of breaking in transit to, from, and back to school.
Why couldn't I be one of those artists that likes to work on small things that can be easily transported? Why did I have to end up being the one that not only thinks big but does things big?
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
A Gay Paper Towel?
While doing my homework, I had the TV on for some kind of background noise. There was a commercial for the new softer Brawny paper towel brand that caught my attention.
Apparently, Mr. Brawny has a new look to go with the new softer paper towel. The commercial advertising this features the old Mr. Brawny and the new Mr. Brawny watching a soap opera. The old one couldn't give a rat's ass about what was going on, but the new one was really into it. Keep in mind that the entire time all they are showing are the rolls of wrapped paper towels with the Brawny men on them. Voice actors are supplying the dialogue.
When I first saw this commercial, I thought that it was funny, but when I saw it again, I realized an underlying social message of sorts. It looks as if they are making the new Mr. Brawny a little bit gay. Yes, I'm aware of the stereotypes, but think about it. Have you ever seen or heard someone that looked like that guy get all fussy over a soap opera? My point exactly.
Now if only Ken would come out the closet now that he has broken up with Barbie. I can't say the same thing for G. I. Joe because of that "Don't ask, don't tell" thing, but one can be hopeful.
Feeling Naked and Tasting Blood
I left the house this morning without my house key and my special Holy relic that I usually carry with me whenever I leave my safe house. The entire time, I felt naked on my left side, particularly my left thigh near the pocket of my jeans that would normally hold the items. I tried to get over it, but I guess I got too used to the weight distribution. That's why I feel naked.
During Art History, my lip started bleeding again around where that burn was. I don't remember tasting this much blood before, especially as frequent as the wound was. I'm concluded that in order for my lips to heal my lips must stay chap for the time. Yes, I'm fully aware that this will make the bleeding worst should I yawn or yell or do something to expand my mouth causing my lips to break and peel. Yes, I know that will mean that I'll be tasting blood again. No, I am not turning into a vampire, because if I was, I would be dead right now. Well, undead, technically.
Personally, I think I'm bleeding like a geyser because I forgot my Holy relic.
During Art History, my lip started bleeding again around where that burn was. I don't remember tasting this much blood before, especially as frequent as the wound was. I'm concluded that in order for my lips to heal my lips must stay chap for the time. Yes, I'm fully aware that this will make the bleeding worst should I yawn or yell or do something to expand my mouth causing my lips to break and peel. Yes, I know that will mean that I'll be tasting blood again. No, I am not turning into a vampire, because if I was, I would be dead right now. Well, undead, technically.
Personally, I think I'm bleeding like a geyser because I forgot my Holy relic.
Technological Passion
You know, I was originally going to blog about my thoughts about last night's interview with Mel Gibson about his new movieThe Passion of The Christ. I was originally going to talk about my feelings about the film and how I find it odd that every Christian and religious group is saying that this is the film to see to renew your faith. I was going to publish something about how I wonder if James has already seen the film seeing how Mel Gibson had various people of the faith from evangelists to even The Pope screen it before its Ash Wednesday international release in theaters.
I was...
...but I'm not.
I had to go through a passion of my own, in a way. Yes, an exaggerated way, but still.
Due to the fact that my sister was on this sucker all day, I have her to blame. I found several spyware software this morning when I booted the computer to do my usual morning rounds on the internet. I had to spend the first thirty minutes of my morning down here just making sure that the system was clean before going anywhere! That meant uninstalling all this crap that somehow made its way on to our computer.
I swear, if and when I get my own computer, I'm just going to let this one that my mom and sister use die. They deserve to have a dead computer for their own stupidity. If they are stupid enough to believe that no one on the internet is trying to get some kind of information from them, be it a Yahoo! password or a credit card number, and not know how to prevent themselves from this, then they don't deserve to have a computer with internet access.
I don't want to be their private IT anymore.
I was...
...but I'm not.
I had to go through a passion of my own, in a way. Yes, an exaggerated way, but still.
Due to the fact that my sister was on this sucker all day, I have her to blame. I found several spyware software this morning when I booted the computer to do my usual morning rounds on the internet. I had to spend the first thirty minutes of my morning down here just making sure that the system was clean before going anywhere! That meant uninstalling all this crap that somehow made its way on to our computer.
I swear, if and when I get my own computer, I'm just going to let this one that my mom and sister use die. They deserve to have a dead computer for their own stupidity. If they are stupid enough to believe that no one on the internet is trying to get some kind of information from them, be it a Yahoo! password or a credit card number, and not know how to prevent themselves from this, then they don't deserve to have a computer with internet access.
I don't want to be their private IT anymore.
Monday, February 16, 2004
Because I can't get Showtime...
Queer as Folk: First 3 Seasons (DVD)
3 boxed sets
17 DVDs
62 episodes
$350 price tag
I think it would have been cheaper to just subscribe to Showtime, but then again, I don't pay the cable bill... yet...
3 boxed sets
17 DVDs
62 episodes
$350 price tag
I think it would have been cheaper to just subscribe to Showtime, but then again, I don't pay the cable bill... yet...
Good Boy
I know that I didn't get that Children's Book illustrator job. I mean, how long has it been since I turned in my proposals? For all I know, they are probably in the trash now.
So, in light of this event, I decided today that I would print out new flyers for the guy and post them up around the school on the various bulletin boards.
Hey, just because I didn't get the job doesn't mean that no one else can try to snag it.
So, in light of this event, I decided today that I would print out new flyers for the guy and post them up around the school on the various bulletin boards.
Hey, just because I didn't get the job doesn't mean that no one else can try to snag it.
Sunday, February 15, 2004
My Life is a TV Drama
Okay, I actually have blog mail. Yes, it's a first for me. After finally finishing all my immediate assignments and putting all my long term ones on the back burner on low heat, I am surprised to find that I actually have mail involving my blog. Who is it from I will not say. Well, at least not specifically.
Apparently, this blog has gotten the attention of someone with connections to the 7th Heaven set.
Yes, you read that right.
Apparently, they like the way I write. It is as if I am living a real soap opera or something. The way that the events unfold as well as my views on various things seems to be what drives them to read this blog between takes when they should be reviewing lines.
While I'm impressed at the fact that my blog has actually gotten beyond my closest friends, I just hope that they do not turn one of my misadventures into an episode. The last thing I want to see advertised during my Saturday Morning Cartoons is a "very special episode" of 7th Heaven involving something I blogged about.
Then again, this is a public forum, and as an artist, I'm fully aware that once I press the publish button on here, anything I put out there is fair game.
Apparently, this blog has gotten the attention of someone with connections to the 7th Heaven set.
Yes, you read that right.
Apparently, they like the way I write. It is as if I am living a real soap opera or something. The way that the events unfold as well as my views on various things seems to be what drives them to read this blog between takes when they should be reviewing lines.
While I'm impressed at the fact that my blog has actually gotten beyond my closest friends, I just hope that they do not turn one of my misadventures into an episode. The last thing I want to see advertised during my Saturday Morning Cartoons is a "very special episode" of 7th Heaven involving something I blogged about.
Then again, this is a public forum, and as an artist, I'm fully aware that once I press the publish button on here, anything I put out there is fair game.
Saturday, February 14, 2004
The Creed by Which I Live By
I've always been able to forgive and forget rather quickly when someone apologizes to me. It is one of my better qualities if not the best quality. This became more true last night than any other time that I can remember.
I was talking on IMs with James. I've been having a bad day, so he decided to send me some Valentines to cheer me up. After some technical malfunctions, I saw the ones he picked out for me. I have to say, they were rather cute. Still, I have this odd feeling that he is breaking several rules of love seeing how he is technically unobtainable.
Eventually, Bill popped on. The reason was because for a while now, my parents have been getting on my ass about getting a summer job. Ideally, I would love it if I could just be a private tour guide to Bill at Walt Disney World. There's just one problem with that. Things happen. Who knows what things are being plotted behind my back! On top of that, Bill can easily go to the parks by himself when he turns legal. That's right, he turns 18 soon. While that would be fun for him, especially exploring the place on his own, both he and I know that I know where some of the cool stuff is that he would like. Nothing has been set in stone, but I will give him a heads up when my summer vacation starts. I'll know when I get my first finals assigned.
Fast forward some more to later in the evening. Dan came on. We had some exchanges of words on IM, but agreed that the phone would be the best way to talk it out. He is the only one of three people there that ever calls me. James, Bill, Leo, even David do not do such things. Anyway, I gave him my cell phone. Reason being I wanted some privacy. Besides, what else am I going to do with those 3000 night and weekend minutes?
The talk in itself was productive. At first, Dan didn't see a reason to apologize. I soon changed his mind. I pointed out several things that I didn't like about him. He took a few of them to heart, namely how little attention he gave me while I was up there. I told him that depending on how much attention he would have given me, I would have been able to cancel out the bad things I didn't like. It's kind of a Ying-Yang thing. When he apologized, I did what I always do. The slate is clean, and I pretty much forgot everything that I ever held against him.
This is how I work. I can forgive and forget rather easily and fast. I can only do that, however, if someone apologizes. I believe in humility. If someone can tell me that they are in the wrong, that they are not perfect, then they are human. Humans where never meant to be perfect, and to recognize one's own flaws is a great characteristic I cannot ignore. Once someone apologizes to me and acknowledges that they are wrong, I immediately forget everything they have ever done. This is how I treat people.
It's a shame that not everyone can act this way.
I was talking on IMs with James. I've been having a bad day, so he decided to send me some Valentines to cheer me up. After some technical malfunctions, I saw the ones he picked out for me. I have to say, they were rather cute. Still, I have this odd feeling that he is breaking several rules of love seeing how he is technically unobtainable.
Eventually, Bill popped on. The reason was because for a while now, my parents have been getting on my ass about getting a summer job. Ideally, I would love it if I could just be a private tour guide to Bill at Walt Disney World. There's just one problem with that. Things happen. Who knows what things are being plotted behind my back! On top of that, Bill can easily go to the parks by himself when he turns legal. That's right, he turns 18 soon. While that would be fun for him, especially exploring the place on his own, both he and I know that I know where some of the cool stuff is that he would like. Nothing has been set in stone, but I will give him a heads up when my summer vacation starts. I'll know when I get my first finals assigned.
Fast forward some more to later in the evening. Dan came on. We had some exchanges of words on IM, but agreed that the phone would be the best way to talk it out. He is the only one of three people there that ever calls me. James, Bill, Leo, even David do not do such things. Anyway, I gave him my cell phone. Reason being I wanted some privacy. Besides, what else am I going to do with those 3000 night and weekend minutes?
The talk in itself was productive. At first, Dan didn't see a reason to apologize. I soon changed his mind. I pointed out several things that I didn't like about him. He took a few of them to heart, namely how little attention he gave me while I was up there. I told him that depending on how much attention he would have given me, I would have been able to cancel out the bad things I didn't like. It's kind of a Ying-Yang thing. When he apologized, I did what I always do. The slate is clean, and I pretty much forgot everything that I ever held against him.
This is how I work. I can forgive and forget rather easily and fast. I can only do that, however, if someone apologizes. I believe in humility. If someone can tell me that they are in the wrong, that they are not perfect, then they are human. Humans where never meant to be perfect, and to recognize one's own flaws is a great characteristic I cannot ignore. Once someone apologizes to me and acknowledges that they are wrong, I immediately forget everything they have ever done. This is how I treat people.
It's a shame that not everyone can act this way.
Friday, February 13, 2004
Sleep and Stress
No, I'm still mad at the world, just not as much.
I believe sleep is the best cure for anything now. It does have its down sides too, however. When I sleep, I lose time. But right now, I don't care. When I do sleep, I don't have to worry about the world that much. The thing is, the world passes by you when you are asleep.
Personally, I rather sleep and have the world pass over me than be a part of it these days. The world hates me, and I hate the world.
I believe sleep is the best cure for anything now. It does have its down sides too, however. When I sleep, I lose time. But right now, I don't care. When I do sleep, I don't have to worry about the world that much. The thing is, the world passes by you when you are asleep.
Personally, I rather sleep and have the world pass over me than be a part of it these days. The world hates me, and I hate the world.
God FUCKING Damn It All To HELL ALREADY!
I can't do it! I can't stop being mad about not having my bum day! I've tried everything! Food, music, Neopets, masturbation! I can't get my damn mind off of the fact that I was denied my bum night last night, and as a result, I cannot bring myself to do my damn work! And I have a fucking huge ass work load this weekend too! Several long term projects, several assignments that need to be turned in Monday. I mean, God! Why can't I just fucking work today?!
Why The M Word Matters To Me by Andrew Sullivan
Only marriage can bring a gay person home
As a child, I had no idea what homosexuality was. I grew up in a traditional home - Catholic, conservative, middle class. Life was relatively simple: education, work, family. I was raised to aim high in life, even though my parents hadn't gone to college. But one thing was instilled in me. What mattered was not how far you went in life, how much money you earned, how big a name you made for yourself. What really mattered was family and the love you had for one another. The most important day of your life was not graduation from college or your first day at work or a raise or even your first house. The most important day of your life was when you got married. It was on that day that all your friends and all your family got together to celebrate the most important thing in life: your happiness - your ability to make a new home, to form a new but connected family, to find love that put everything else into perspective.
But as I grew older, I found that this was somehow not available to me. I didn't feel the things for girls that my peers did. All the emotions and social rituals and bonding of teenage heterosexual life eluded me. I didn't know why. No one explained it. My emotional bonds to other boys were one-sided; each time I felt myself falling in love, they sensed it, pushed it away. I didn't and couldn't blame them. I got along fine with my buds in a nonemotional context, but something was awry, something not right. I came to know almost instinctively that I would never be a part of my family the way my siblings might one day be. The love I had inside me was unmentionable, anathema. I remember writing in my teenage journal one day, "I'm a professional human being. But what do I do in my private life?"
I never discussed my real life. I couldn't date girls and so immersed myself in schoolwork, the debate team, school plays, anything to give me an excuse not to confront reality. When I looked toward the years ahead, I couldn't see a future. There was just a void. Was I going to be alone my whole life? Would I ever have a most important day in my life? It seemed impossible, a negation, an undoing. To be a full part of my family, I had to somehow not be me. So, like many other gay teens, I withdrew, became neurotic, depressed, at times close to suicidal. I shut myself in my room with my books night after night while my peers developed the skills needed to form real relationships and loves. In wounded pride, I even voiced a rejection of family and marriage. It was the only way I could explain my isolation.
It took years for me to realize that I was gay, years more to tell others and more time yet to form any kind of stable emotional bond with another man. Because my sexuality had emerged in solitude - and without any link to the idea of an actual relationship - it was hard later to reconnect sex to love and self-esteem. It still is. But I persevered, each relationship slowly growing longer than the last, learning in my 20s and 30s what my straight friends had found out in their teens. But even then my parents and friends never asked the question they would have asked automatically if I were straight: So, when are you going to get married? When will we be able to celebrate it and affirm it and support it? In fact, no one - no one - has yet asked me that question.
When people talk about gay marriage, they miss the point. This isn't about gay marriage. It's about marriage. It's about family. It's about love. It isn't about religion. It's about civil marriage licenses. Churches can and should have the right to say no to marriage for gays in their congregations, just as Catholics say no to divorce, but divorce is still a civil option. These family values are not options for a happy and stable life. They are necessities. Putting gay relationships in some other category - civil unions, domestic partnerships, whatever - may alleviate real human needs, but by their very euphemism, by their very separateness, they actually build a wall between gay people and their families. They put back the barrier many of us have spent a lifetime trying to erase.
It's too late for me to undo my past. But I want above everything else to remember a young kid out there who may even be reading this now. I want to let him know that he doesn't have to choose between himself and his family anymore. I want him to know that his love has dignity, that he does indeed have a future as a full and equal part of the human race. Only marriage will do that. Only marriage can bring him home.
Essay from TIME.
While I was reading this last night, I felt a part of me die. I felt my heart break in two again. I was reminded why do the things I do, why I play video games, why I bitch and complain, why I blog. I was reminded why this entire week has been so hard for me to deal with and why this weekend, namely tomorrow, is always the hardest day of the year for me next to Christmas.
It's too late for me too. I am growing up apart of a group of people that is hated. If that 62% have their way of which 52% are Democrats, I won't be able to get married. My attraction to me is seen as morally wrong by 51% of the country! With all the lifestyles that everyone leads in the world, mine is not acceptable to 38% of the people while 49% say that they do not accept my lifestyle, but others can. Just not themselves. And it is not likely that while I'm still a young, and thereby powerful, voter that there will ever be a candidate that will favor gay marriages ever! At least one that public would vote for.
Back in second grade, I made a stupid comment about how I hate blacks. I was still a single digit kid back then, so stupidity was my excuse. My teacher at the time got so mad at me, that she made me cry by saying things like "How would you like it if someone said that I don't like you because you have brown eyes?!" and "I don't like people with black hair! How does that make you feel?" Looking back that far twelve years later, I cannot help but wonder if this is some kind of punishment for my ignorance as a child. It may not be the same thing, because, let's face it, only the most flamboyant and fabulous gay people are easier to spot than your average gay Joe. It isn't like we have a different skin tone, but we are different. People do not like different, especially when they are totting around the Bible saying that God doesn't want me to be this way and I'm going to Hell because of it unless I change my lifestyle.
Sometimes I wish God would just come down to Earth and set us back on the right path. I wish He would just come down and say to everyone in all His various forms so that all religions would be able to listen to Him, "Look, my children. What you are doing is wrong. You are all my children. No one is better than the other. I hate no one. I love all of my children of the world. Why can you not do the same? Why must you kill your brothers and sisters in the name of what you believe is just and good? Why do you fear your brothers and sisters because they are different in their emotional attractions? Why must you define My holy ritual of marriage so that it is exclusive to what you want it to be? Have I taught you nothing? Have you forgotten My teachings? No, you have merely misinterpreted them. Let me teach you once again that which you should have already known..."
I deserve a slap for that last paragraph. I know that will never happen. Asking for God coming down to Earth and setting us down the right path is asking too much of a higher being. Still, a part of me thinks that is the only thing that will make this world better. It is this part that also believes that only by the power of God will I ever find true happiness...
...because I'm sure as hell not going to find it here on this rock!
As a child, I had no idea what homosexuality was. I grew up in a traditional home - Catholic, conservative, middle class. Life was relatively simple: education, work, family. I was raised to aim high in life, even though my parents hadn't gone to college. But one thing was instilled in me. What mattered was not how far you went in life, how much money you earned, how big a name you made for yourself. What really mattered was family and the love you had for one another. The most important day of your life was not graduation from college or your first day at work or a raise or even your first house. The most important day of your life was when you got married. It was on that day that all your friends and all your family got together to celebrate the most important thing in life: your happiness - your ability to make a new home, to form a new but connected family, to find love that put everything else into perspective.
But as I grew older, I found that this was somehow not available to me. I didn't feel the things for girls that my peers did. All the emotions and social rituals and bonding of teenage heterosexual life eluded me. I didn't know why. No one explained it. My emotional bonds to other boys were one-sided; each time I felt myself falling in love, they sensed it, pushed it away. I didn't and couldn't blame them. I got along fine with my buds in a nonemotional context, but something was awry, something not right. I came to know almost instinctively that I would never be a part of my family the way my siblings might one day be. The love I had inside me was unmentionable, anathema. I remember writing in my teenage journal one day, "I'm a professional human being. But what do I do in my private life?"
I never discussed my real life. I couldn't date girls and so immersed myself in schoolwork, the debate team, school plays, anything to give me an excuse not to confront reality. When I looked toward the years ahead, I couldn't see a future. There was just a void. Was I going to be alone my whole life? Would I ever have a most important day in my life? It seemed impossible, a negation, an undoing. To be a full part of my family, I had to somehow not be me. So, like many other gay teens, I withdrew, became neurotic, depressed, at times close to suicidal. I shut myself in my room with my books night after night while my peers developed the skills needed to form real relationships and loves. In wounded pride, I even voiced a rejection of family and marriage. It was the only way I could explain my isolation.
It took years for me to realize that I was gay, years more to tell others and more time yet to form any kind of stable emotional bond with another man. Because my sexuality had emerged in solitude - and without any link to the idea of an actual relationship - it was hard later to reconnect sex to love and self-esteem. It still is. But I persevered, each relationship slowly growing longer than the last, learning in my 20s and 30s what my straight friends had found out in their teens. But even then my parents and friends never asked the question they would have asked automatically if I were straight: So, when are you going to get married? When will we be able to celebrate it and affirm it and support it? In fact, no one - no one - has yet asked me that question.
When people talk about gay marriage, they miss the point. This isn't about gay marriage. It's about marriage. It's about family. It's about love. It isn't about religion. It's about civil marriage licenses. Churches can and should have the right to say no to marriage for gays in their congregations, just as Catholics say no to divorce, but divorce is still a civil option. These family values are not options for a happy and stable life. They are necessities. Putting gay relationships in some other category - civil unions, domestic partnerships, whatever - may alleviate real human needs, but by their very euphemism, by their very separateness, they actually build a wall between gay people and their families. They put back the barrier many of us have spent a lifetime trying to erase.
It's too late for me to undo my past. But I want above everything else to remember a young kid out there who may even be reading this now. I want to let him know that he doesn't have to choose between himself and his family anymore. I want him to know that his love has dignity, that he does indeed have a future as a full and equal part of the human race. Only marriage will do that. Only marriage can bring him home.
Essay from TIME.
While I was reading this last night, I felt a part of me die. I felt my heart break in two again. I was reminded why do the things I do, why I play video games, why I bitch and complain, why I blog. I was reminded why this entire week has been so hard for me to deal with and why this weekend, namely tomorrow, is always the hardest day of the year for me next to Christmas.
It's too late for me too. I am growing up apart of a group of people that is hated. If that 62% have their way of which 52% are Democrats, I won't be able to get married. My attraction to me is seen as morally wrong by 51% of the country! With all the lifestyles that everyone leads in the world, mine is not acceptable to 38% of the people while 49% say that they do not accept my lifestyle, but others can. Just not themselves. And it is not likely that while I'm still a young, and thereby powerful, voter that there will ever be a candidate that will favor gay marriages ever! At least one that public would vote for.
Back in second grade, I made a stupid comment about how I hate blacks. I was still a single digit kid back then, so stupidity was my excuse. My teacher at the time got so mad at me, that she made me cry by saying things like "How would you like it if someone said that I don't like you because you have brown eyes?!" and "I don't like people with black hair! How does that make you feel?" Looking back that far twelve years later, I cannot help but wonder if this is some kind of punishment for my ignorance as a child. It may not be the same thing, because, let's face it, only the most flamboyant and fabulous gay people are easier to spot than your average gay Joe. It isn't like we have a different skin tone, but we are different. People do not like different, especially when they are totting around the Bible saying that God doesn't want me to be this way and I'm going to Hell because of it unless I change my lifestyle.
Sometimes I wish God would just come down to Earth and set us back on the right path. I wish He would just come down and say to everyone in all His various forms so that all religions would be able to listen to Him, "Look, my children. What you are doing is wrong. You are all my children. No one is better than the other. I hate no one. I love all of my children of the world. Why can you not do the same? Why must you kill your brothers and sisters in the name of what you believe is just and good? Why do you fear your brothers and sisters because they are different in their emotional attractions? Why must you define My holy ritual of marriage so that it is exclusive to what you want it to be? Have I taught you nothing? Have you forgotten My teachings? No, you have merely misinterpreted them. Let me teach you once again that which you should have already known..."
I deserve a slap for that last paragraph. I know that will never happen. Asking for God coming down to Earth and setting us down the right path is asking too much of a higher being. Still, a part of me thinks that is the only thing that will make this world better. It is this part that also believes that only by the power of God will I ever find true happiness...
...because I'm sure as hell not going to find it here on this rock!
The Stressed Out Sisters Strike Again!
I swear, they must be plotting against me or something.
Yesterday. My "Bum Day." The only time in the week where I can finally relax and not care. The one night where I can stay up as long as I want and not worry about the work of the next day or the days before. DENIED YET AGAIN! I went to sleep, because I needed it after only getting 4 hours of it the night before. When I wake up, the time is close to 21:30. I figured that no one would be on, but who is on the computer? My sister. I opt to have a very late dinner. Once my sister is done, she says that mom needs it for a little while. Translation? Mom is going to be on it for a while. So, I finish eating my dinner, read some things in TIME about gay marriages, and then plop myself onto the couch to wait for my turn. Mom turns to me and says that I'll have a long wait. I get pissed. Jessica said that mom was only going to be on there for a little while. I should have known there is no "little while" with my mother. Angry that I was denied my only day where I can destress, I go to my room, lock it so that no one can even contact me, and then go to bed. I lay there waiting to hear my mom's famous snore that I can hear through the walls signaling me to come back to computer. It never came while I was awake.
So, now, apparently, this is the only time I'll ever get on the computer long enough to do much of anything! That's right. The only times I can see myself ever being online is during my breaks at school and in the morning when everyone is asleep. No more late night surfing around looking at things I could never get away with in the day time, no more playing games and not having to worry about what time is it, and worst of all, no more IMs with anyone I know because of time zone differences!
Congratulations, you two! You've just killed the one thing that makes me believe that I actually have a social life!
Damn bitches...
Yesterday. My "Bum Day." The only time in the week where I can finally relax and not care. The one night where I can stay up as long as I want and not worry about the work of the next day or the days before. DENIED YET AGAIN! I went to sleep, because I needed it after only getting 4 hours of it the night before. When I wake up, the time is close to 21:30. I figured that no one would be on, but who is on the computer? My sister. I opt to have a very late dinner. Once my sister is done, she says that mom needs it for a little while. Translation? Mom is going to be on it for a while. So, I finish eating my dinner, read some things in TIME about gay marriages, and then plop myself onto the couch to wait for my turn. Mom turns to me and says that I'll have a long wait. I get pissed. Jessica said that mom was only going to be on there for a little while. I should have known there is no "little while" with my mother. Angry that I was denied my only day where I can destress, I go to my room, lock it so that no one can even contact me, and then go to bed. I lay there waiting to hear my mom's famous snore that I can hear through the walls signaling me to come back to computer. It never came while I was awake.
So, now, apparently, this is the only time I'll ever get on the computer long enough to do much of anything! That's right. The only times I can see myself ever being online is during my breaks at school and in the morning when everyone is asleep. No more late night surfing around looking at things I could never get away with in the day time, no more playing games and not having to worry about what time is it, and worst of all, no more IMs with anyone I know because of time zone differences!
Congratulations, you two! You've just killed the one thing that makes me believe that I actually have a social life!
Damn bitches...
Thursday, February 12, 2004
Trying Not to Burn Out
I've been drawing for the last three hours. I have a drawing class coming up at one. If I continued to draw (or, more accurately, shade), I would be burned out before my class even starts.
So, here I am, typing about whatever is on my mind so that I do not burn out and get frustrated to the point where I just want to quit.
I think I'll have to cancel going to the Frist tomorrow. Judging from the drawing that I was working on, I'll need all day Friday to do this. With any luck, I'll get it done so that Saturday I can spend the entire time on my 3-D Design and Color Fundamentals homework assignments. Those in itself should be easy because of the fact that all I'm really doing is cutting and pasting and constructing. Three hours making my final identical, three-dimensional, geometrical, asymmetrical shape making my grand total of shapes five, and another six hours working on two collages. Then, Sunday, I can work on my long term assignments like the impressionistic painting of a view with different weather for Color and type up whatever I need to for Art History.
Unfortunately, and I really hate doing saying this, but the masters of art are going to have to wait for my return visit.
Wow, here's that stress that I was wondering about earlier in the semester.
So, here I am, typing about whatever is on my mind so that I do not burn out and get frustrated to the point where I just want to quit.
I think I'll have to cancel going to the Frist tomorrow. Judging from the drawing that I was working on, I'll need all day Friday to do this. With any luck, I'll get it done so that Saturday I can spend the entire time on my 3-D Design and Color Fundamentals homework assignments. Those in itself should be easy because of the fact that all I'm really doing is cutting and pasting and constructing. Three hours making my final identical, three-dimensional, geometrical, asymmetrical shape making my grand total of shapes five, and another six hours working on two collages. Then, Sunday, I can work on my long term assignments like the impressionistic painting of a view with different weather for Color and type up whatever I need to for Art History.
Unfortunately, and I really hate doing saying this, but the masters of art are going to have to wait for my return visit.
Wow, here's that stress that I was wondering about earlier in the semester.
Neopets Life
Just because I also shared with you guys the fact that on Zafara Day on Neopets my little Zafara got something special, I guess I should continue with it with today's special Neopets day, Lenny Day.
As you can see, I bought my little Lenny posters for his special day. In my alternate reality that I go to in order to escape this world (and believe me, doing so is really quiet healthy for your mind), my Lenny, called Punky because his name is too long, loves art. Pottery is too expensive to buy in the game, so I had to settle for Pop Art.
Yes, I consider posters to be art in real life. I mean, have you seen some of the movie posters that are out these days? Some of them are works of art!
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As you can see, I bought my little Lenny posters for his special day. In my alternate reality that I go to in order to escape this world (and believe me, doing so is really quiet healthy for your mind), my Lenny, called Punky because his name is too long, loves art. Pottery is too expensive to buy in the game, so I had to settle for Pop Art.
Yes, I consider posters to be art in real life. I mean, have you seen some of the movie posters that are out these days? Some of them are works of art!
4 Hours Sleep, 5 Hour Wait, 24 Hours of Work
This was the first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning.
This is what I was talking about when I said that the lack of work I've been having during this week would bite my ass in the end.
Hopefully, I can still keep my "Bum Day" today.
This is what I was talking about when I said that the lack of work I've been having during this week would bite my ass in the end.
Hopefully, I can still keep my "Bum Day" today.
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Time Management (or Lack There of)
Okay, this is how I can figure my weekend out provided that I do not have things added on tomorrow with Drawing 2.
If I am about to get down to the Frist Friday, I can spend the day there taking notes and observing everything that I missed. My best bet is to go with my aunt, who wants to go see the exhibit as well. If I stay the whole day or as long as it takes me, that will leave me enough time in the evening to do one drawing for Drawing 2. I'm going to do one anyways tomorrow while I wait, but I know that most of these drawings will take a long time.
Saturday, I can do my 3-D Design while cartoons are going on. All I need to do is cut and tape. After cartoons, I can go down somewhere and paint an impressionistic painting of a scene in a weather condition. I have to do four of these, two by mid-term, in different weather conditions. I'm just going to take Saturday's weather be it bright and colorful or dull and gloomy.
Sunday, I can spend the whole day on whatever drawings I need to finish. If I finish in time, I can then do the typing I need to do for Art History 2. Then, if I have more time, I will see if I cannot get a head start on my Drawing 2 report I need to get done by April. If not, then I'll use Spring Break to do it. It's not like I'm going anywhere fun during Spring Break. I'm not the GGW crowd type to begin with. Don't get me wrong! I don't mind watching and enjoying nude exhibition. I just don't like doing it with a bunch of drunk college air-heads.
Is that a gray hair of mine I see in my pony tail now? Damn stress.
If I am about to get down to the Frist Friday, I can spend the day there taking notes and observing everything that I missed. My best bet is to go with my aunt, who wants to go see the exhibit as well. If I stay the whole day or as long as it takes me, that will leave me enough time in the evening to do one drawing for Drawing 2. I'm going to do one anyways tomorrow while I wait, but I know that most of these drawings will take a long time.
Saturday, I can do my 3-D Design while cartoons are going on. All I need to do is cut and tape. After cartoons, I can go down somewhere and paint an impressionistic painting of a scene in a weather condition. I have to do four of these, two by mid-term, in different weather conditions. I'm just going to take Saturday's weather be it bright and colorful or dull and gloomy.
Sunday, I can spend the whole day on whatever drawings I need to finish. If I finish in time, I can then do the typing I need to do for Art History 2. Then, if I have more time, I will see if I cannot get a head start on my Drawing 2 report I need to get done by April. If not, then I'll use Spring Break to do it. It's not like I'm going anywhere fun during Spring Break. I'm not the GGW crowd type to begin with. Don't get me wrong! I don't mind watching and enjoying nude exhibition. I just don't like doing it with a bunch of drunk college air-heads.
Is that a gray hair of mine I see in my pony tail now? Damn stress.
Making Money From Moochers
I have three extra dollars in my pocket all because I was nice.
Apparently, I was the only one that had the right type of tape needed for the 3-D Design assignment. I decided to be nice and let several people have some. Well, one person ended up using the entire roll. By the time I was able to use it, there was nothing left! The person felt so guilty about it that I ended up getting three dollars from the person for a new roll of white duct tape!
Who says being nice doesn't pay?
Apparently, I was the only one that had the right type of tape needed for the 3-D Design assignment. I decided to be nice and let several people have some. Well, one person ended up using the entire roll. By the time I was able to use it, there was nothing left! The person felt so guilty about it that I ended up getting three dollars from the person for a new roll of white duct tape!
Who says being nice doesn't pay?
Insecurity Strike Subconsciously
For the past few days, I haven't had to do any kind of major work for the next class of any kind. I tried making up for this yesterday by looking for magazines I could cut up for my Color assignment, but I ended up going to bed about two hours earlier than I usually do. I knew as soon as I hit my bed that these past few days are going to kick me in the ass sooner or later.
That's when I started to dream the weirdest dream I could remember. Apparently, all my insecurities decided to come forth last night.
I first dreamed I was in class trying to make a project for 3-D Design out of unusually long tooth-picks. I failed to come up with an interesting design, and as such, failed the assignment. I then found myself wondering through a gallery only to find myself being lost not only in location but in what I was looking at. I recognized the works I was looking at as late Picasso, but for some reason they looked more like McDonald's ads. I then found myself at Disneyland of all places. Woody came along, but his face was messed up. It was like Eisner decided to get back at Pixar by not removing their characters, but to purposely make them as ugly as possible! Needless to say, I was appalled by this. Lastly, I found myself in some creepy, yet cool, unknown uncle of mine that had the ability to use magic to give us experiences we would never have in our lives. I ended up switching bodies with a straight guy trying to win back the love of his life. Once I helped out, I got my old body back.
So what insecurities came forth in that dream? Fear of failing or not living up to other peoples expectations, of being lost and uneducated (Yes, I have a hang up about being stupid.), of being disappointed (I like Disney because no matter what I'm feeling at the time, Disney can always make me feel a little bit happier.), and of not being able to fall in love.
And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
That's when I started to dream the weirdest dream I could remember. Apparently, all my insecurities decided to come forth last night.
I first dreamed I was in class trying to make a project for 3-D Design out of unusually long tooth-picks. I failed to come up with an interesting design, and as such, failed the assignment. I then found myself wondering through a gallery only to find myself being lost not only in location but in what I was looking at. I recognized the works I was looking at as late Picasso, but for some reason they looked more like McDonald's ads. I then found myself at Disneyland of all places. Woody came along, but his face was messed up. It was like Eisner decided to get back at Pixar by not removing their characters, but to purposely make them as ugly as possible! Needless to say, I was appalled by this. Lastly, I found myself in some creepy, yet cool, unknown uncle of mine that had the ability to use magic to give us experiences we would never have in our lives. I ended up switching bodies with a straight guy trying to win back the love of his life. Once I helped out, I got my old body back.
So what insecurities came forth in that dream? Fear of failing or not living up to other peoples expectations, of being lost and uneducated (Yes, I have a hang up about being stupid.), of being disappointed (I like Disney because no matter what I'm feeling at the time, Disney can always make me feel a little bit happier.), and of not being able to fall in love.
And that's just the tip of the iceberg.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
My First Nude Model
(Why does that title sound like something for a bad children's book?)
Well, today was a really interesting day on a whole. The fact that I drew a nude model was one thing, but I also learned something about myself. Well, two things.
Had I been a straight guy, I wouldn't have the maturity to last five fucking minutes in there while the model was nude. It's times like these that I'm glad that I am gay. I hope if I ever have to do a male nude that the person is not as attractive to the point where I will de distracted.
I also learned a few things about my mind as an artist. Apparently, my concentration changes based on the medium I'm holding. When I'm holding a pencil, I'm more concerned about lines and form of the subject. When I'm holding charcoal, I'm more concerned about value and the shape of that value. When I'm holding ink, I'm more concerned about detail. I wonder what will happen when I start to paint later on in my college career.
Today was definitely a learning experience. There is one thing I do have to say before I burst at the seams at how ridiculous it is.
While I was drawing the nude model with charcoal, for some reason I felt like I was in the movie Titanic during the scene where Jack is drawing Rose the night it sunk.
Well, today was a really interesting day on a whole. The fact that I drew a nude model was one thing, but I also learned something about myself. Well, two things.
Had I been a straight guy, I wouldn't have the maturity to last five fucking minutes in there while the model was nude. It's times like these that I'm glad that I am gay. I hope if I ever have to do a male nude that the person is not as attractive to the point where I will de distracted.
I also learned a few things about my mind as an artist. Apparently, my concentration changes based on the medium I'm holding. When I'm holding a pencil, I'm more concerned about lines and form of the subject. When I'm holding charcoal, I'm more concerned about value and the shape of that value. When I'm holding ink, I'm more concerned about detail. I wonder what will happen when I start to paint later on in my college career.
Today was definitely a learning experience. There is one thing I do have to say before I burst at the seams at how ridiculous it is.
While I was drawing the nude model with charcoal, for some reason I felt like I was in the movie Titanic during the scene where Jack is drawing Rose the night it sunk.
I think too much.
Yesterday, I finally realized why America has an "Obesity Epidemic." It is because of those drive-in burger places. Think about it. Before the 50's, you never saw any really fat people or for that matter fat kids. There are a few notable exceptions, sure, but from all the footage I've seen, there were not that many fat people around. The logical, at least for me, here is that when people started to make the drive-in burger places, people started to get fat. Think about it. You don't have to leave your car while you eat a fattening burger. Before then, people would have to park their cars, walk into the restaurant, walk to their seat, eat, walk to the till to pay, walk back to their car, and then drive off to wherever. You had some exercise before and after you ate such a fattening food item! Now, thanks to the drive-in burger places and its baby the drive thru, people don't get that benefit. You can eat while staying in one place at all time. This is why I like having my room and TV upstairs and the fridge downstairs now. Yes, it is an inconvenience, but at least I have some exercise to burn off the bad food I ate.
I found out today during break that a bunch of people were looking at pictures of naked children in a book for English Comp. II. The objective was to figure out if the pictures were pornographic or not. The book itself has this history about how these religious groups would protest against it claiming it was child porn only to end up buying the book so they could burn it. Who lost here? The publisher or the protesters? If you guessed the protesters, you're wrong. They had to buy the book, so that means they had to cash out some of their hard earned paychecks in order to burn them. The publisher got the cash, and all the protesters got was what they wanted to begin with. Attention. So what constitutes what is porn and what is art? I think that in order to be pornographic in any way, you need to have that in mind as your intent from the start. You must intend something to be pornographic in order for it to be pornographic. You have to say to yourself that you are going to make this piece of work as sexual, as erotic, as "wood-stiffening" as possible. Pictures of nude children in a non-sexual environment is nothing new to the art world. I mean, just look at Cupid! Here's a nude little boy shooting arrows at people to make them fall in love! Nude children in art is nothing new, and above all else should not be damned as child pornography if someone took pictures of nude children simply to capture their innocence and beauty. Yes, there is gray area there. I'm fully aware of that. But I think it is fairly obvious when something is pornographic and when something is nude art.
I found out today during break that a bunch of people were looking at pictures of naked children in a book for English Comp. II. The objective was to figure out if the pictures were pornographic or not. The book itself has this history about how these religious groups would protest against it claiming it was child porn only to end up buying the book so they could burn it. Who lost here? The publisher or the protesters? If you guessed the protesters, you're wrong. They had to buy the book, so that means they had to cash out some of their hard earned paychecks in order to burn them. The publisher got the cash, and all the protesters got was what they wanted to begin with. Attention. So what constitutes what is porn and what is art? I think that in order to be pornographic in any way, you need to have that in mind as your intent from the start. You must intend something to be pornographic in order for it to be pornographic. You have to say to yourself that you are going to make this piece of work as sexual, as erotic, as "wood-stiffening" as possible. Pictures of nude children in a non-sexual environment is nothing new to the art world. I mean, just look at Cupid! Here's a nude little boy shooting arrows at people to make them fall in love! Nude children in art is nothing new, and above all else should not be damned as child pornography if someone took pictures of nude children simply to capture their innocence and beauty. Yes, there is gray area there. I'm fully aware of that. But I think it is fairly obvious when something is pornographic and when something is nude art.
Monday, February 09, 2004
Damn Burn
So, I'm sitting here, trying to relax between my classes thinking very little about the important things like my grades, my outside project, Leo (Ah, Leo...), and all that jazz, but I have one thing that is bothering me.
On Saturday, I was eating pizza that I cooked (one of those ready-bake frozen ones). Now, I don't know if I mentioned this before, but I like my pizza fairly hot. Like fresh from the oven. It's something I've always enjoyed and loved, especially with authentic Italian pizza.
Well, I guess you can figure out what happens next. The sauce was too runny and drippy. I ended up burning my lip as a result. When I checked up on it, I noticed that the top layer was blistering and starting to peel. I took a pair of tweezers to it and pulled the skin off. Surprisingly that didn't hurt. I then cleaned the wound up and thought that some sleep would help heal me. As a result of my rest, the burn began to scab over.
Now, scabs on your lips are not a good thing unless you are mute. The average human has to talk to someone at least once a day be it himself/herself or some telemarketer.
Every time since then, whenever I'd open my mouth, the scab would break and ooze blood just a little. It's not like this is the first time or anything, but it is the first time that there was any kind of pain from it. I think it is because of the fact that my skin and tissue under the burn is still tender and not at 100%.
And I have to do an oral report for Color!
On Saturday, I was eating pizza that I cooked (one of those ready-bake frozen ones). Now, I don't know if I mentioned this before, but I like my pizza fairly hot. Like fresh from the oven. It's something I've always enjoyed and loved, especially with authentic Italian pizza.
Well, I guess you can figure out what happens next. The sauce was too runny and drippy. I ended up burning my lip as a result. When I checked up on it, I noticed that the top layer was blistering and starting to peel. I took a pair of tweezers to it and pulled the skin off. Surprisingly that didn't hurt. I then cleaned the wound up and thought that some sleep would help heal me. As a result of my rest, the burn began to scab over.
Now, scabs on your lips are not a good thing unless you are mute. The average human has to talk to someone at least once a day be it himself/herself or some telemarketer.
Every time since then, whenever I'd open my mouth, the scab would break and ooze blood just a little. It's not like this is the first time or anything, but it is the first time that there was any kind of pain from it. I think it is because of the fact that my skin and tissue under the burn is still tender and not at 100%.
And I have to do an oral report for Color!
The Curse of 3-D
I should have had the foresight to see this coming, but apparently I didn't.
After bitching and complaining about my 3-D assignment, I failed to realized that after I completed it, I had to find a way to carry it over to the school along with all my other things! I totally spaced out on that, and was faced with the problem this morning. Luckily, I still had some oversize bags to carry them in.
The bad thing about today is that later I will have to make a detour back to Michael's Arts and Crafts to pick up more foam board seeing how I wasted two boards over the weekend just trying to get the damn shapes identical. Add this in to how I want to drop off the pictures I drew for that Children's Book project I'm doing on the side outside of school, and you can see how big a mess my Monday will be today.
It's only going to go downhill from here, folks.
After bitching and complaining about my 3-D assignment, I failed to realized that after I completed it, I had to find a way to carry it over to the school along with all my other things! I totally spaced out on that, and was faced with the problem this morning. Luckily, I still had some oversize bags to carry them in.
The bad thing about today is that later I will have to make a detour back to Michael's Arts and Crafts to pick up more foam board seeing how I wasted two boards over the weekend just trying to get the damn shapes identical. Add this in to how I want to drop off the pictures I drew for that Children's Book project I'm doing on the side outside of school, and you can see how big a mess my Monday will be today.
It's only going to go downhill from here, folks.
Sunday, February 08, 2004
My Downtown Adventure
After doing my laundry, I hitched a ride with my dad and had him drop me off at the Downtown Library. I needed to do some research on Aztec art, and that was the only place I could find it. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any of the information that I wanted, so I had to make-do with what they had. I broke character and checked out a book, mostly for visual aid purposes. I'll have to make a detour one day to return it.
I decided, against my better judgment, to go down to the Frist to see the exhibit and take notes on it for my classes. Big mistake. Not only did I go late (The entire collection takes about a whole day's worth just to appreciate it!), but there were about a thousand or so people already there! There was a 45 minute wait to get in the main gallery and another 45 minute wait to get into the exhibit! One person behind me said that it felt like going to Walt Disney World! Still, I cannot complain about the lack of time I had. Of the pieces I saw, I am still in awe by them. There is just some kind of feeling you get when you see the master's work in person. It's almost spiritual, at least for me. It be that close to the works from the like of Goya and van Gogh. It's a high that I know I will never be able to get to again. That is, unless I go back, which I will have to do eventually. I was only able to get halfway through the second room of the gallery before they started to close.
The moral of the story: Never go to a major event on a weekend if you have the option to go on a weekday.
I decided, against my better judgment, to go down to the Frist to see the exhibit and take notes on it for my classes. Big mistake. Not only did I go late (The entire collection takes about a whole day's worth just to appreciate it!), but there were about a thousand or so people already there! There was a 45 minute wait to get in the main gallery and another 45 minute wait to get into the exhibit! One person behind me said that it felt like going to Walt Disney World! Still, I cannot complain about the lack of time I had. Of the pieces I saw, I am still in awe by them. There is just some kind of feeling you get when you see the master's work in person. It's almost spiritual, at least for me. It be that close to the works from the like of Goya and van Gogh. It's a high that I know I will never be able to get to again. That is, unless I go back, which I will have to do eventually. I was only able to get halfway through the second room of the gallery before they started to close.
The moral of the story: Never go to a major event on a weekend if you have the option to go on a weekday.
Saturday, February 07, 2004
Cartooning
I was told back in Creativity that it is extremely hard to draw things like a child. Harder still is being able to draw something that will be liked by a child.
Not wanting to go to the library to do research on Aztec color use and material (or for that matter waste another foam board trying to make another shape in vain), I decided to jump in and tackle the outside project of mine. The children's book picture.
Now, I'm not really hired as of yet. The way this works, from what I understand, is that I am to read the story and then submit character proposals to the writer. The writer then chooses what he likes if any and then calls back. It's an exchange of ideas and a negotiation of some sorts.
I started to draw the pictures when I came across a problem. It would appear that my skills have become way to advance for my liking. Yes, I can no longer draw cartoons the way I want to and make them appealing to the child in me. The only thing I can hope for is that the writer will like one of my ideas from which I can work from. Other than that, I don't think I can spend as much time as I normally do on a project.
Guess I'm not really cut out to be a cartoonist, but maybe I can use my cartoon-like drawings for something else. Maybe even push what everyone thinks contemporary art is, you know? Make them see cartoons as an art form rather than entertainment.
Guess I have a new goal.
Not wanting to go to the library to do research on Aztec color use and material (or for that matter waste another foam board trying to make another shape in vain), I decided to jump in and tackle the outside project of mine. The children's book picture.
Now, I'm not really hired as of yet. The way this works, from what I understand, is that I am to read the story and then submit character proposals to the writer. The writer then chooses what he likes if any and then calls back. It's an exchange of ideas and a negotiation of some sorts.
I started to draw the pictures when I came across a problem. It would appear that my skills have become way to advance for my liking. Yes, I can no longer draw cartoons the way I want to and make them appealing to the child in me. The only thing I can hope for is that the writer will like one of my ideas from which I can work from. Other than that, I don't think I can spend as much time as I normally do on a project.
Guess I'm not really cut out to be a cartoonist, but maybe I can use my cartoon-like drawings for something else. Maybe even push what everyone thinks contemporary art is, you know? Make them see cartoons as an art form rather than entertainment.
Guess I have a new goal.
Just Like Snow
I've always known that I could never duplicate one of my original creations twice even if I wanted to, and this time I have proof.
The first thing I did after my cartoons was try to make a third, identical piece to one of the shapes for 3-D. Turns out that I couldn't do it. I ended up dismantling it and threw it onto the pile of scrap foam board for a mysterious future project.
I'm really frustrated right now. The only thing calming me right now is the fact that there is light snow falling right outside the window. Too bad it isn't sticking.
The first thing I did after my cartoons was try to make a third, identical piece to one of the shapes for 3-D. Turns out that I couldn't do it. I ended up dismantling it and threw it onto the pile of scrap foam board for a mysterious future project.
I'm really frustrated right now. The only thing calming me right now is the fact that there is light snow falling right outside the window. Too bad it isn't sticking.
Friday, February 06, 2004
Did I do what I thought I did?
I talked to Leo tonight for the first time in a while.
I called him on a few things, but what I am most surprised with is how I was practically flirting with him the entire time! When I flirt with someone, I always come off as some kind of jerk or a very touchy-feely kind of sap. Tonight was jerk night since, obviously, I've only talked to him on IMs. Yes, dangerous, I know, but what do I know? Anyway, it would appear that Leo actually liked the way I was acting tonight. This raises a few questions about some things in the future. I hope this ends up where I would like it to (but more than likely know it won't be).
We will see what other nights bring to this soap opera. Stay tune, drama lovers.
I called him on a few things, but what I am most surprised with is how I was practically flirting with him the entire time! When I flirt with someone, I always come off as some kind of jerk or a very touchy-feely kind of sap. Tonight was jerk night since, obviously, I've only talked to him on IMs. Yes, dangerous, I know, but what do I know? Anyway, it would appear that Leo actually liked the way I was acting tonight. This raises a few questions about some things in the future. I hope this ends up where I would like it to (but more than likely know it won't be).
We will see what other nights bring to this soap opera. Stay tune, drama lovers.
Identical Three-Dimensional Asymmetrical Geometrical Shapes
I threw out the whole "Make Friday my Bum Day" idea around noon, and started working on my 3-D project. I took one look at the shape I had from class and began to dismantle it. It was too complicated to duplicate. I then created an easier shape to make. I did the assignment and made to identical shapes.
Or, at least I thought they were identical.
Apparently I goofed up on one of the angles on one of the planes. This goof caused said plane to come out very different than my second one, which came out rather nicely. I am debating if I should make a third one based off of the second one's planes. I might as well since I really want to paint one of these shapes in some kind of funky color scheme or something. Right now, after spending five hours on this assignment alone, I do not feel like doing much of anything.
Oh, yeah, art is easy. I scoff at the people that think that.
Or, at least I thought they were identical.
Apparently I goofed up on one of the angles on one of the planes. This goof caused said plane to come out very different than my second one, which came out rather nicely. I am debating if I should make a third one based off of the second one's planes. I might as well since I really want to paint one of these shapes in some kind of funky color scheme or something. Right now, after spending five hours on this assignment alone, I do not feel like doing much of anything.
Oh, yeah, art is easy. I scoff at the people that think that.
So Much for My Friday
Okay, you know how yesterday is always my Friday night. Guess who spoiled it for me?
The over-worked girls.
When I got home, my sister was on the computer, playing games and IMing with everyone. She wasn't doing work. I ended up watching TV while I waited for a logical time to roll around when she would finish. Well, 22:00 came around, and instead of having a free computer terminal, my mom was on there typing up something. The first words out of her mouth were "You can have it tomorrow. I'm busy." While I respect the fact that, unlike my sister, she was doing work, I know for a fact that she will be over-worked before she hits the one-week mark. She was like this during her last job. Why would this new one be any kind of difference?
You know what this means, don't you?
Yes, I missed the only night that I ever have to myself when I can just do whatever I want and not worry about homework. Because of the fact that I have a full plate to do this weekend, I can pretty much kiss IMs away. I hate when I can't do anything I want to do, especially if it is because of some stupid reason like the fact we only have one computer with internet access in the entire damn house. I actually wanted to talk to James and David and whoever else was available. It's times like these I wish I had their phone number (like that will ever happen).
The over-worked girls.
When I got home, my sister was on the computer, playing games and IMing with everyone. She wasn't doing work. I ended up watching TV while I waited for a logical time to roll around when she would finish. Well, 22:00 came around, and instead of having a free computer terminal, my mom was on there typing up something. The first words out of her mouth were "You can have it tomorrow. I'm busy." While I respect the fact that, unlike my sister, she was doing work, I know for a fact that she will be over-worked before she hits the one-week mark. She was like this during her last job. Why would this new one be any kind of difference?
You know what this means, don't you?
Yes, I missed the only night that I ever have to myself when I can just do whatever I want and not worry about homework. Because of the fact that I have a full plate to do this weekend, I can pretty much kiss IMs away. I hate when I can't do anything I want to do, especially if it is because of some stupid reason like the fact we only have one computer with internet access in the entire damn house. I actually wanted to talk to James and David and whoever else was available. It's times like these I wish I had their phone number (like that will ever happen).
Thursday, February 05, 2004
Yup, something snapped.
I am convinced that I have apparently got a social screw loose or something of that nature. Yes, I do believe I do.
It is raining today, and while most people are trying to avoid it, I'm trying to get hit by it. Also, there is just something about the smell of rain and deep-frying fries that makes me feel almost intoxicated.
For no reason at all, I said "Hi" to a group of strangers in the cafe and then walked off.
While trying to stay awake for the last half hour, I found myself forgetting where I was, what I was doing, what I will be doing, and what day it was.
I feel like I'm in for a stress roller coaster with the addition of this outside project I am interested in, provided that the guy likes my prototype pictures, that is.
It is raining today, and while most people are trying to avoid it, I'm trying to get hit by it. Also, there is just something about the smell of rain and deep-frying fries that makes me feel almost intoxicated.
For no reason at all, I said "Hi" to a group of strangers in the cafe and then walked off.
While trying to stay awake for the last half hour, I found myself forgetting where I was, what I was doing, what I will be doing, and what day it was.
I feel like I'm in for a stress roller coaster with the addition of this outside project I am interested in, provided that the guy likes my prototype pictures, that is.
This Always Happens!
I swear, I can't do any research even if I wanted to.
Just like the last time when I was coming up with all these stupid cartoon sites instead of sites about the history of cartoons, I keep finding these sites selling replicas of Aztec art instead of information about how the Aztec made their art, particularly the color they used.
It's times like these that I wish the internet was never made possible.
Just like the last time when I was coming up with all these stupid cartoon sites instead of sites about the history of cartoons, I keep finding these sites selling replicas of Aztec art instead of information about how the Aztec made their art, particularly the color they used.
It's times like these that I wish the internet was never made possible.
What did I do?
I'm starting to feel that morning regret. You know, the kind that you feel when you've had a wild night out the night before with all your friends complete with wild sex with a total stranger (not that I have had that experience yet, mind you. I'm still rather a social clam.)?
What am I regretting getting into? Well, I just realized that with the addition of this outside project (even thought he just wants to see my work and not really hire me for anything as of yet) I have added to my workload, which is already full to begin with. I have those two 3-D objects to make out of foam board, a report on the Aztec's use of color, I finished my Art History Final Project proposal and the three points I need to turn in next class, and I need to get down to the First Center to view the show down there for three of my classes.
On paper, it doesn't seem that hard, but when you think about how much time each will take, I'll be extremely happy if I can find a balance of some kind.
What am I regretting getting into? Well, I just realized that with the addition of this outside project (even thought he just wants to see my work and not really hire me for anything as of yet) I have added to my workload, which is already full to begin with. I have those two 3-D objects to make out of foam board, a report on the Aztec's use of color, I finished my Art History Final Project proposal and the three points I need to turn in next class, and I need to get down to the First Center to view the show down there for three of my classes.
On paper, it doesn't seem that hard, but when you think about how much time each will take, I'll be extremely happy if I can find a balance of some kind.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
GLEE!
While I was watching TechTV's show about conspiracies of the world (namely the assassination of J. F. K.), the phone rang, and guess who was on the other end?
The guy that posted the flyer looking for an illustrator called! He had an accent that just slurred the words into each other. I barely made out what he wanted. All I know is that he wants realistic cartoon characters. "Five-fingered animated humans, you know?" He gave me the address to the auto shop that he and his father own and work at. I couldn't make out the directions, but I know I can get something from Yahoo! He is only in the shop from 08:00 to 16:00 Monday through Friday. This is a problem, because that's where my classes fall, with the exception of Friday. I told him this, and he said that I can pick up his story to read from his father. He also said that I can come over on Friday as well if I cannot make it tomorrow. I do not have to call, I can just show up, but you know me and how I was raised. You know I'm going to call him before I get over there. When I get there, all I have to do is say who I am and what I need to pick up as well as get some other questions answered involving a few things like confirming what he wants as far as pictures go.
This is so cool! I had a chance like this before with one of my dad's customers, but he ultimately didn't pick me for one reason or another. I think that project was abandoned for other things. The guy I just got a call from said that this project of his is five years in the making, so he is in no rush. Still, I'm so excited right now I know it's going to be hard to sleep tonight!
The guy that posted the flyer looking for an illustrator called! He had an accent that just slurred the words into each other. I barely made out what he wanted. All I know is that he wants realistic cartoon characters. "Five-fingered animated humans, you know?" He gave me the address to the auto shop that he and his father own and work at. I couldn't make out the directions, but I know I can get something from Yahoo! He is only in the shop from 08:00 to 16:00 Monday through Friday. This is a problem, because that's where my classes fall, with the exception of Friday. I told him this, and he said that I can pick up his story to read from his father. He also said that I can come over on Friday as well if I cannot make it tomorrow. I do not have to call, I can just show up, but you know me and how I was raised. You know I'm going to call him before I get over there. When I get there, all I have to do is say who I am and what I need to pick up as well as get some other questions answered involving a few things like confirming what he wants as far as pictures go.
This is so cool! I had a chance like this before with one of my dad's customers, but he ultimately didn't pick me for one reason or another. I think that project was abandoned for other things. The guy I just got a call from said that this project of his is five years in the making, so he is in no rush. Still, I'm so excited right now I know it's going to be hard to sleep tonight!
Well, that was anti-climatic.
I just got off the phone from dialing the two numbers on the flyer. The first one was busy, and the second one gave me his answering machine. I left a message and asked him to call me back.
Naturally, I hear Christina in my head saying to call him back and not to wait. I will tomorrow if he doesn't call me back by the time I get to school.
Naturally, I hear Christina in my head saying to call him back and not to wait. I will tomorrow if he doesn't call me back by the time I get to school.
I may get a job finally!
On my way out of school with a butt load of stuff (and then some), Jaime and Ken were talking to Cassy, a very cool yet hyper farm girl that I have the great pleasure of having 3-D Design with. Jaime mentioned how she saw that someone was looking for an illustrator a children's book. She saw the flyer on the bulletin board in the Liberal Arts/Meeting Room wing. She also said that she talked to the person. According to her, the guy is looking for someone that can draw in a Disney-like style.
All of these red flags went up like crazy! I had this sudden drive to get more information.
I left what I could with Jaime and Ken as they talked with Cassy some more. I raced over to the bulletin board and stole the flyer that she told me about. I think part of me had this fear that someone else would get the job. I then went back to gather my stuff and thank Jaime for the heads up. On my way out, I couldn't help but think about getting home and calling up the number. First, however, I had to get some of the homework out the way just in case.
On top of that, I had to call SOMEONE in the family and tell them the good news. I knew my mom would just throw this big celebration if she heard that I even had an opportunity, so I tried to see if she was home. Stupid me forgot that she doesn't get off work until about 18:30. I ended up telling my dad about this, and, in all honesty, his lack of enthusiasm didn't help me feel any better about this chance.
So why the hell am I blogging instead of talking to the guy right now? Well, it is like I said. I need to tell SOMEONE, so feel special.
All of these red flags went up like crazy! I had this sudden drive to get more information.
I left what I could with Jaime and Ken as they talked with Cassy some more. I raced over to the bulletin board and stole the flyer that she told me about. I think part of me had this fear that someone else would get the job. I then went back to gather my stuff and thank Jaime for the heads up. On my way out, I couldn't help but think about getting home and calling up the number. First, however, I had to get some of the homework out the way just in case.
On top of that, I had to call SOMEONE in the family and tell them the good news. I knew my mom would just throw this big celebration if she heard that I even had an opportunity, so I tried to see if she was home. Stupid me forgot that she doesn't get off work until about 18:30. I ended up telling my dad about this, and, in all honesty, his lack of enthusiasm didn't help me feel any better about this chance.
So why the hell am I blogging instead of talking to the guy right now? Well, it is like I said. I need to tell SOMEONE, so feel special.
I need more hands.
Remember how I told said that I will have a juggling act to do today?
Well, add in the fact that I need to take home the foamboard piece along with everything else into that equation.
Yeah, I'm using my mouth just to hold things from one area to the next, and it is really getting difficult. At least I don't have to explain to anyone why I have something in my mouth if you saw how much stuff I was carrying.
Well, add in the fact that I need to take home the foamboard piece along with everything else into that equation.
Yeah, I'm using my mouth just to hold things from one area to the next, and it is really getting difficult. At least I don't have to explain to anyone why I have something in my mouth if you saw how much stuff I was carrying.
Two is Not Always Better Than One
Because of the size of the foamboard I need for my 3-D Design class, I had to break out another one of those cardboard portfolios that have been sitting in my room taking up space. This wouldn't be a bad thing if I was about four inches taller, but considering I'm only 5' 5" - 6", it can be quite difficult to carry just one of these suckers since they are almost as tall as 2/3 of my body. With two to keep track of (one of which I'm afraid will just end up getting bigger instead of lighter), I have a rather complicated juggling act to perform today.
Not to mention I get to take home my wire project today after my teacher documents it.
Not to mention I get to take home my wire project today after my teacher documents it.
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
And I thought I was perverted!
Sex museum a tribute to the tame, tawdry
LOS ANGELES, California (AP) -- One look at Hollywood's newest tourist attraction and it's easy to mistake it for any number of adult shops along the popular Walk of Fame.
The nude pictures, sex toys and stag films aren't meant to arouse but to edify. This is, after all, the Erotic Museum, which pays tribute to all things sexual, from the tame to the tawdry.
It chronicles sex through the ages with nude abstracts by Pablo Picasso, erotic jade figurines from ancient China, vintage sex toys and sultry computer-animated dancers.
Click here for the full story.
I don't know what to say to this.
LOS ANGELES, California (AP) -- One look at Hollywood's newest tourist attraction and it's easy to mistake it for any number of adult shops along the popular Walk of Fame.
The nude pictures, sex toys and stag films aren't meant to arouse but to edify. This is, after all, the Erotic Museum, which pays tribute to all things sexual, from the tame to the tawdry.
It chronicles sex through the ages with nude abstracts by Pablo Picasso, erotic jade figurines from ancient China, vintage sex toys and sultry computer-animated dancers.
Click here for the full story.
I don't know what to say to this.
Got Have Gain Have
My mom got a job! GO HER!
I have to learn how to drive now according to her. Not looking forward to it.
My little Zafara gained a level from today's free training special since today is Zafara Day on Neopets.
And the best part is, I have no work for the night!
I have to learn how to drive now according to her. Not looking forward to it.
My little Zafara gained a level from today's free training special since today is Zafara Day on Neopets.
And the best part is, I have no work for the night!
Stupid Library
It's only been just a little over an hour since my last blog, and already I need to vent!
Why?
Well, let's travel back a bit, shall we? Remember when Jaime and I attended that little student forum together and filled out that little questionnaire? We mentioned that there were not books on illustration or cartooning in the library.
Well, this year, they have a few. Good right?
Wrong.
For my Art History 2 final, I have decided to do something that relates to cartoons. The three ideas that I have narrowed down the project to are Technology and Cartoons (the evolution of technique and tools), a brief history of animation, and a brief exploration of the various types of comic strips and cartoons (particularly in their political and social meaning if any).
Well, I can pretty much scratch the first two off the list. Apparently, neither this nor the main library has any information on cartoon tech or animation history. In fact, when I Googled in the two subjects I couldn't find in a hard copy, I ended up finding all these stupid Flash cartoon sites instead of something that had some kind of useful information! It was kind of like how my last final came up with Thanksgiving things and Christian tour companies whenever I would look up "pilgrimage."
So what did the school library have? Nothing but how-to books.
What did the main library have? Nothing but videos of cartoons, none of which explained the history of the art form.
Why do I always make things so much harder for me than they really are? Why?
Why?
Well, let's travel back a bit, shall we? Remember when Jaime and I attended that little student forum together and filled out that little questionnaire? We mentioned that there were not books on illustration or cartooning in the library.
Well, this year, they have a few. Good right?
Wrong.
For my Art History 2 final, I have decided to do something that relates to cartoons. The three ideas that I have narrowed down the project to are Technology and Cartoons (the evolution of technique and tools), a brief history of animation, and a brief exploration of the various types of comic strips and cartoons (particularly in their political and social meaning if any).
Well, I can pretty much scratch the first two off the list. Apparently, neither this nor the main library has any information on cartoon tech or animation history. In fact, when I Googled in the two subjects I couldn't find in a hard copy, I ended up finding all these stupid Flash cartoon sites instead of something that had some kind of useful information! It was kind of like how my last final came up with Thanksgiving things and Christian tour companies whenever I would look up "pilgrimage."
So what did the school library have? Nothing but how-to books.
What did the main library have? Nothing but videos of cartoons, none of which explained the history of the art form.
Why do I always make things so much harder for me than they really are? Why?
I can't say I don't know how it feels.
Well, this was a sudden shock to the system.
While waiting for the doors to open for the school, my mom tells me that my sister and Michael broke up! She then started to go into this rant about how I shouldn't be this and that, mentioning things about him or going up to my sister and asking how she is. What, does she think I'm an insensitive jerk?!
The whole time she was giving me this rant of do's and don't's, all I could think about was how I can relate. I can't say it straight out, because, well, after all, I haven't had a relationship as public as my sister's. Still, I do know what it is like to be with someone for so long, going through so much good times and a few bad times, only to end up being single again. What bothers me the most is the fact that I honestly thought that this would work out. I honestly believed that she had found the one for her.
I guess not.
My sister is a strong girl. This experience will only make her better and more of a fighter. I wish I could say the same thing, but the results of all my past relationships with anyone have resulted in me being either too careful, too fool-hearty, or too afraid of people in general.
After my mom told me all that, she said that I needed to get out of the car at exactly 07:30. She had an interview to go to. And she thinks I'm the insensitive one, huh?
While waiting for the doors to open for the school, my mom tells me that my sister and Michael broke up! She then started to go into this rant about how I shouldn't be this and that, mentioning things about him or going up to my sister and asking how she is. What, does she think I'm an insensitive jerk?!
The whole time she was giving me this rant of do's and don't's, all I could think about was how I can relate. I can't say it straight out, because, well, after all, I haven't had a relationship as public as my sister's. Still, I do know what it is like to be with someone for so long, going through so much good times and a few bad times, only to end up being single again. What bothers me the most is the fact that I honestly thought that this would work out. I honestly believed that she had found the one for her.
I guess not.
My sister is a strong girl. This experience will only make her better and more of a fighter. I wish I could say the same thing, but the results of all my past relationships with anyone have resulted in me being either too careful, too fool-hearty, or too afraid of people in general.
After my mom told me all that, she said that I needed to get out of the car at exactly 07:30. She had an interview to go to. And she thinks I'm the insensitive one, huh?
Monday, February 02, 2004
Classic Marketing
While on the way home, the radio kept playing the ad for the show going on at the Frist. It was to the tune of Beethoven's 5th Symphony, and sounded like this:
Vincent van Gogh
And Picasso!
Artists you know
Artists you know
Artists you know!
All in one show
All in one show
All in one show!
From El Greco
To Picasso
Artists you know
In one show!
Where do we go?
All the talent in Music City, USA, and this is the best they came up with?! Well, at least it did its job and got nailed into my head like a bad jingle should do.
Vincent van Gogh
And Picasso!
Artists you know
Artists you know
Artists you know!
All in one show
All in one show
All in one show!
From El Greco
To Picasso
Artists you know
In one show!
Where do we go?
All the talent in Music City, USA, and this is the best they came up with?! Well, at least it did its job and got nailed into my head like a bad jingle should do.
That Went Well
Well, I just got out of my first major critique and my first critique on a 3-D piece.
I am please to say that only positive things were said about the piece. Everyone liked how it was able to hold up even thought it was structurally unstable for the most part. Well, as far as the face was concerned, that was. Everyone also liked how simple it was. The joints and all the twisting that I had to do brought some nice variety. They also liked the little quirk I put in one of the ears! They said that it brought a lot of life into the piece.
Too bad I don't have an image server, or I would put one up. I really need to invest in one if I ever get the money. (Like that will happen in this lifetime.)
I am please to say that only positive things were said about the piece. Everyone liked how it was able to hold up even thought it was structurally unstable for the most part. Well, as far as the face was concerned, that was. Everyone also liked how simple it was. The joints and all the twisting that I had to do brought some nice variety. They also liked the little quirk I put in one of the ears! They said that it brought a lot of life into the piece.
Too bad I don't have an image server, or I would put one up. I really need to invest in one if I ever get the money. (Like that will happen in this lifetime.)
First Major Critique of the Semester
Today is the day of my first major critique for any project that I have had so far.
For the last two weeks, we have been trying to come up with an interesting composition in 3D Design using wires. Today is the day where we find out what other people think of it as well as what our grade may be.
I just hope mine stays up and together. It's so fragile and fickle that one small movement could kill the whole piece!
For the last two weeks, we have been trying to come up with an interesting composition in 3D Design using wires. Today is the day where we find out what other people think of it as well as what our grade may be.
I just hope mine stays up and together. It's so fragile and fickle that one small movement could kill the whole piece!
Sunday, February 01, 2004
Rocket Mania
Click Here to Play
The pyromaniac inside me loves this game. So does the side that likes a challenge. The creative side of me sent off a Neopet clone of this to the idea department of the site. The hopeful side of me is, well, hopeful that they will like the idea and make it into a game.
I have a new addiction for the time being.
Can you beat my score of 68,225 points, young one? Can you out rank me and go beyond Student? Can you afford the $20 home version of this game that I cannot?
The pyromaniac inside me loves this game. So does the side that likes a challenge. The creative side of me sent off a Neopet clone of this to the idea department of the site. The hopeful side of me is, well, hopeful that they will like the idea and make it into a game.
I have a new addiction for the time being.
Can you beat my score of 68,225 points, young one? Can you out rank me and go beyond Student? Can you afford the $20 home version of this game that I cannot?
For the Record
I'm not going to watch the Super Bowl for the game nor am I going to watch it for the commercials.
No real interest in either.
No real interest in either.
The Preacher Man
I talked to James late last night. He didn't apologize. He simply expressed his regret for several of his past actions and hopes to right the wrongs soon. Thanks to David's efforts, he's seen the light and error of his ways.
It's amazing how much fear of the unknown can cause one to not do something that could have been so beneficial.
The IM conversation as a whole was pretty casual. I was listening to MouseInfo Radio, and the Porto Paradiso Water Carnival show audio came on. I told James how I wish I could animate what I am seeing in my mind, but realistically I know that's impossible. James was surprised at how grounded I have become. I blame that to my Nightmare Before Christmas Broadway mock proposal. I told him that I would have sent that off to Disney all nice and finely tuned if I didn't fine out how much of an ass they were at the negotiating table. James agrees that they have lost their magic, and the strange thing is I don't remember him ever being a Disney fan before. Shows you how bad they just screwed themselves over, huh?
The IM ended with he and Matt had to prepare for today's sermon.
Yes, I fell in love with a big, ripped, buff, tattooed, pierced, hung, cut, young preacher. And now, instead of wanting to be his boyfriend, I just want him to fucking meet me.
I hope this time it actually happens.
It's amazing how much fear of the unknown can cause one to not do something that could have been so beneficial.
The IM conversation as a whole was pretty casual. I was listening to MouseInfo Radio, and the Porto Paradiso Water Carnival show audio came on. I told James how I wish I could animate what I am seeing in my mind, but realistically I know that's impossible. James was surprised at how grounded I have become. I blame that to my Nightmare Before Christmas Broadway mock proposal. I told him that I would have sent that off to Disney all nice and finely tuned if I didn't fine out how much of an ass they were at the negotiating table. James agrees that they have lost their magic, and the strange thing is I don't remember him ever being a Disney fan before. Shows you how bad they just screwed themselves over, huh?
The IM ended with he and Matt had to prepare for today's sermon.
Yes, I fell in love with a big, ripped, buff, tattooed, pierced, hung, cut, young preacher. And now, instead of wanting to be his boyfriend, I just want him to fucking meet me.
I hope this time it actually happens.
