I think this has got to be the fifth time in a month's time that I've had a dream about sex.
In the dream, I'm in what I think is a college dorm but looks like my room with nothing but a partition added to it for another bed. Rather cramp, really. And I'm talking to a rather cute and buff frat boy. The conversation quickly turns to the topic of how long it's been since I last had sex. Which, if you really care, is going on about maybe four years this past August. No, seriously. I almost lost track until I had this dream.
Anyway, this frat boy ends up confiding in me that he is bisexual and wouldn't mind messing around. I know where my dream is picking up this reference before, because I had the same experience in Seattle. I won't go into that.
After I end up groping the frat boy, I end up waking up with the usual morning wood and nothing but my hands to polish it with.
If this isn't getting any more blunt in the matter, I don't know what is.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
The Lion King On Stage - A Personal Review
It's been a while since I've done these things, but given the visual scope of the production, I don't think any kind of proper format could do it justice.
Like the song says, "There is far too much to take in." Quite literally, there was "more to see than can ever be seen."
You've heard the stories from those that have seen it. You may have even seen the photos or the production videos promoting it on the DVD. But nothing, and I mean nothing, compares to what you see on stage. Even for a tour company, the production is just outstanding.
Visually, the puppets, be them small or large, are just awesome. That's about as simply put as I can get. They are simple in design and mechanics, but at the same time just a joy to look at when they move. I found myself trying to look back and forth between the actual performers and their costumes. While this was a visual battle that I knew was a testament to what is suppose to be bad design, it works surprisingly well.
The performers themselves were great! Several times during the production, they made it very clear that that these were puppets, often having comedic moments between themselves and their puppeteer. This was more commonly done with Zazu, but Timon and Pumbaa were also guilty of this comedic break of the suspension of disbelief.
Unlike probably most of the families that were attending this evening (all of which were well behaved), I was familiar with the music from the stage production. But as beautiful as the music was to listen to, you truly get only half of the experience. Even some of the songs that everyone knows from the film such are accented in a way that truly evokes the emotion that the film lost somewhere in post-production.
This can be really appreciated in Can You Feel The Love Tonight? Visually, the entire stage is filled with costumes of the jungle flora rich in light pastel colors that are easy on the eyes and flow from one performer to the next. Then, they introduce not one, not two, but three pairs of ballet dancers. Two of which are in the air over the stage! While I went into the scene knowing full well what was going to happen (they do a slim-down version of the same aerial ballet in Disney's Animal Kingdom's attraction Festival of the Lion King), I found myself welling up with tears at the majesty that was presented on such a small stage. As cheesy as this will sound, I really did feel the love tonight.
There were no real technical glitches other than Adult Simba's microphone dying half way through He Lives In You. In fact, the only real problem were volume levels, as the performers had to fight with the three sets of drums that were being used. Other than that, everything went off without a problem.
What I will take away from this experience the most is this: the art. Whether it is the costume designs of the lionesses, the overall design of Pride Rock, or something as small as the birds kites on the poles, every prop was in itself a work of art. Very rarely do I see this in any kind of production that I've been fortunate enough to watch. But even the face painting on the performer who does Zazu was just simply stunning in its simplicity.
The bottom line is that if you get a chance to see this show on stage, GO! Don't delay, whatever you do. You'll be denying yourself, what I believe, is where art and entertainment meet.
Like the song says, "There is far too much to take in." Quite literally, there was "more to see than can ever be seen."
You've heard the stories from those that have seen it. You may have even seen the photos or the production videos promoting it on the DVD. But nothing, and I mean nothing, compares to what you see on stage. Even for a tour company, the production is just outstanding.
Visually, the puppets, be them small or large, are just awesome. That's about as simply put as I can get. They are simple in design and mechanics, but at the same time just a joy to look at when they move. I found myself trying to look back and forth between the actual performers and their costumes. While this was a visual battle that I knew was a testament to what is suppose to be bad design, it works surprisingly well.
The performers themselves were great! Several times during the production, they made it very clear that that these were puppets, often having comedic moments between themselves and their puppeteer. This was more commonly done with Zazu, but Timon and Pumbaa were also guilty of this comedic break of the suspension of disbelief.
Unlike probably most of the families that were attending this evening (all of which were well behaved), I was familiar with the music from the stage production. But as beautiful as the music was to listen to, you truly get only half of the experience. Even some of the songs that everyone knows from the film such are accented in a way that truly evokes the emotion that the film lost somewhere in post-production.
This can be really appreciated in Can You Feel The Love Tonight? Visually, the entire stage is filled with costumes of the jungle flora rich in light pastel colors that are easy on the eyes and flow from one performer to the next. Then, they introduce not one, not two, but three pairs of ballet dancers. Two of which are in the air over the stage! While I went into the scene knowing full well what was going to happen (they do a slim-down version of the same aerial ballet in Disney's Animal Kingdom's attraction Festival of the Lion King), I found myself welling up with tears at the majesty that was presented on such a small stage. As cheesy as this will sound, I really did feel the love tonight.
There were no real technical glitches other than Adult Simba's microphone dying half way through He Lives In You. In fact, the only real problem were volume levels, as the performers had to fight with the three sets of drums that were being used. Other than that, everything went off without a problem.
What I will take away from this experience the most is this: the art. Whether it is the costume designs of the lionesses, the overall design of Pride Rock, or something as small as the birds kites on the poles, every prop was in itself a work of art. Very rarely do I see this in any kind of production that I've been fortunate enough to watch. But even the face painting on the performer who does Zazu was just simply stunning in its simplicity.
The bottom line is that if you get a chance to see this show on stage, GO! Don't delay, whatever you do. You'll be denying yourself, what I believe, is where art and entertainment meet.
It's a bad sign when you wake up feeling pathetic.
The idea of my arrested development has become a whole lot larger than just an idea to explore for the visual arts. In fact, the more it sits on the back burner as something to use and look into, the more it starts to boil over and burn whatever settled on the bottom of the pot.
I have trouble forcing myself to do what I know needs to be done. Usually, this is with just minor things that everyone else doesn't like doing in one respect or another (take out the trash, clean their bed, get rid of all the dust in the computer, etc.). And if you ignore these long enough, there are immediate consequences (smell, the computer not working, etc.). But not driving? Not getting a job? Not having a normal life? The consequences were not as immediate.
Until now. Now that I have money, I find myself being more budget conscious than before. Now that I have had a job, I find myself worrying if I will have to look for another one in about three weeks. And as my time in college gets closer and closer to the end, it ultimately means more and more advance classes that involve doing things off campus.
I need to learn how to drive, and I need to learn fast. I need to get that damn license, and I need to do it before it gets too late. And "too late" is coming up fast.
But as sensible as that sounds to me, I can't make myself do it for some strange reason. I rather sit on my hands and work on something else like this blog entry.
And to think, I thought stalling Jason's car in the middle of the intersection with a truck behind me was the lowest point I could feel.
I have trouble forcing myself to do what I know needs to be done. Usually, this is with just minor things that everyone else doesn't like doing in one respect or another (take out the trash, clean their bed, get rid of all the dust in the computer, etc.). And if you ignore these long enough, there are immediate consequences (smell, the computer not working, etc.). But not driving? Not getting a job? Not having a normal life? The consequences were not as immediate.
Until now. Now that I have money, I find myself being more budget conscious than before. Now that I have had a job, I find myself worrying if I will have to look for another one in about three weeks. And as my time in college gets closer and closer to the end, it ultimately means more and more advance classes that involve doing things off campus.
I need to learn how to drive, and I need to learn fast. I need to get that damn license, and I need to do it before it gets too late. And "too late" is coming up fast.
But as sensible as that sounds to me, I can't make myself do it for some strange reason. I rather sit on my hands and work on something else like this blog entry.
And to think, I thought stalling Jason's car in the middle of the intersection with a truck behind me was the lowest point I could feel.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Flatline
Last night, for those of you that don't know, was my debut show. What this means is that last night, I exhibited my drawings for the first time ever. Normally, this would be a very nerve-wrecking experience until the show is finally over, but much to everyone else's surprise, I wasn't nervous or excited for it. If anything, I was happy to be finally showing some polished and finished pieces of work!
The night itself was interesting. Having been on the other side of the fence and just looking at pieces from other students that were exhibiting, I can say that it was rather pleasant to be the center of the lime light. Socially, I didn't feel as awkward or out of place... much. But at the same time, I felt like I had a presence and that people were finally noticing me. Looking back on it, I can honestly say I think my ego inflated a little. That's a good thing, since I have none. Any ego boost will undoubtedly lead to a boost in confidence, which is what I need.
And as often as I've complained about this, I didn't feel like I was the odd man out for once. The pieces from the other students complimented each other and worked well with each other. Nobody was fighting for someone's attention, and everyone got a fair amount of viewing time from what I saw. For me, coming from several years of cartooning knowledge and a drawing background so steeped in it, that is a major plus.
However, as nice as that first show was for me, I still have my doubts about several things. Chief among them is this: Does anyone even remember what I drew and will they continue to remember long after the show is dead and gone? If they do, that shows that the piece was very successful. If not, then it's no different to when you see an electrical outlet spark. Exciting the first time around, but forgettable after you get back to your daily grind.
The night itself was interesting. Having been on the other side of the fence and just looking at pieces from other students that were exhibiting, I can say that it was rather pleasant to be the center of the lime light. Socially, I didn't feel as awkward or out of place... much. But at the same time, I felt like I had a presence and that people were finally noticing me. Looking back on it, I can honestly say I think my ego inflated a little. That's a good thing, since I have none. Any ego boost will undoubtedly lead to a boost in confidence, which is what I need.
And as often as I've complained about this, I didn't feel like I was the odd man out for once. The pieces from the other students complimented each other and worked well with each other. Nobody was fighting for someone's attention, and everyone got a fair amount of viewing time from what I saw. For me, coming from several years of cartooning knowledge and a drawing background so steeped in it, that is a major plus.
However, as nice as that first show was for me, I still have my doubts about several things. Chief among them is this: Does anyone even remember what I drew and will they continue to remember long after the show is dead and gone? If they do, that shows that the piece was very successful. If not, then it's no different to when you see an electrical outlet spark. Exciting the first time around, but forgettable after you get back to your daily grind.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Sexual Dreaming
A few nights ago, I had another sex dream that have been in line with the more recent dreams about sex. The short end of the stick is that in the dreams, I don't get any. The dream from a few nights ago featured female prostitutes and Leonardo DiCaprio for some strange reason. Both of which I found unattractive in my dream mostly due to some kind of physical abnormality.
This time around, something strange happened in my dream. I dreamt about my cousin whom I was really close to for a while when growing up. His hair was red and in a punk style, but the facial features were all his. In the dream, he was just sitting in the corner smiling and I was on my bed talking to him about, well, nothing really. We were just catching up. But the entire time in my dream, I felt way too happy to see him. In fact, I felt like I was in love with him in my dream.
Dreams are suppose to tell you something, or so I'm told. Yeah, I know, ironic. In any event, I don't know what to make of this. This is the fourth dream about sex and or sexuality that I've had in less than a month! I never have dreams about sex this frequently, especially two nights apart from each other. So what could it all mean?
This time around, something strange happened in my dream. I dreamt about my cousin whom I was really close to for a while when growing up. His hair was red and in a punk style, but the facial features were all his. In the dream, he was just sitting in the corner smiling and I was on my bed talking to him about, well, nothing really. We were just catching up. But the entire time in my dream, I felt way too happy to see him. In fact, I felt like I was in love with him in my dream.
Dreams are suppose to tell you something, or so I'm told. Yeah, I know, ironic. In any event, I don't know what to make of this. This is the fourth dream about sex and or sexuality that I've had in less than a month! I never have dreams about sex this frequently, especially two nights apart from each other. So what could it all mean?
Monday, November 13, 2006
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Why I Don't Want A Wii
It isn't even Black Friday, and I've already made up my mind as to what I do not want to buy or put on someone else's pay check. Mostly thanks to some very logical decisions based on how budget oriented I was raised.
The Wii and PS3 have been in the papers for about two days now, mostly in technology news and Christmas advertisements. And even before then with E3 and all the various other gaming conventions out there, the hardware has been displayed over and over again. Some with playable demos, some without, and some just toting how much their hardware can push.
The games, while interesting in their own respect, are starting to be generic. Even the launch games for the Wii, which has a controller system so unique it will break down walls, doesn't have anything that captures my interest short of Marvel Ultimate Alliance (because of how the controller is set up making you have to actually use your hand like Spidy would when you are playing him to shoot webs). But that's not really enough. At least not for me.
There was a time when there had to be a game or some kind of obsession that made me get a console system. A long time ago, it was Parappa the Rappa for the PS1. Katamari was going to be the game that would have got me a PS2, but I ultimately sold that while it was still in the shrink wrap because I would never get the system for it. Now? I'm just waiting on Spore to come out.
The reasoning behind this is pretty much what was said in a recent Q&A that Will Wright had about the game. He was asked by someone in one of his last demos (I believe it was this past August) if he designed the game to ever be completed like a traditional game. The short answer was a "no." That being said, does that mean that his game is the last game players would probably buy given the scope of it? After thinking about the question, Will ultimately said "yes."
I've been wanting to retire from gaming in the hardcore sense and only play casually. I'm kind of failing at that with games like Roller Coaster Tycoon 3 that allows me to have such a nice scope of creativity, albeit fairly limiting based on the software and hardware. But still, it isn't the same hack, slash, jump, and finish game that I cannot go back to after I've beaten it. There are several games like that in my game drawer right now collecting dust. I'm actually unsure if any of them are still playable. Hell, I don't even know if my N64 works!
And yet, an idea I have been tossing around like some kind of meditation stress ball while I lay in bed is using my video games or at least the aspect and aesthetics of video games I grew up with in art some how. It supports the "easy in" theory of mine while not insulting the viewers intelligence. And as a contemporary art form, it could be worth quite a lot more than a $600 gaming system that will only depreciate in value with use over time. I should know, I have a Super Nintendo that can't be repaired and is probably only worth $5 on the open market if I really didn't care about it.
The Wii and PS3 have been in the papers for about two days now, mostly in technology news and Christmas advertisements. And even before then with E3 and all the various other gaming conventions out there, the hardware has been displayed over and over again. Some with playable demos, some without, and some just toting how much their hardware can push.
The games, while interesting in their own respect, are starting to be generic. Even the launch games for the Wii, which has a controller system so unique it will break down walls, doesn't have anything that captures my interest short of Marvel Ultimate Alliance (because of how the controller is set up making you have to actually use your hand like Spidy would when you are playing him to shoot webs). But that's not really enough. At least not for me.
There was a time when there had to be a game or some kind of obsession that made me get a console system. A long time ago, it was Parappa the Rappa for the PS1. Katamari was going to be the game that would have got me a PS2, but I ultimately sold that while it was still in the shrink wrap because I would never get the system for it. Now? I'm just waiting on Spore to come out.
The reasoning behind this is pretty much what was said in a recent Q&A that Will Wright had about the game. He was asked by someone in one of his last demos (I believe it was this past August) if he designed the game to ever be completed like a traditional game. The short answer was a "no." That being said, does that mean that his game is the last game players would probably buy given the scope of it? After thinking about the question, Will ultimately said "yes."
I've been wanting to retire from gaming in the hardcore sense and only play casually. I'm kind of failing at that with games like Roller Coaster Tycoon 3 that allows me to have such a nice scope of creativity, albeit fairly limiting based on the software and hardware. But still, it isn't the same hack, slash, jump, and finish game that I cannot go back to after I've beaten it. There are several games like that in my game drawer right now collecting dust. I'm actually unsure if any of them are still playable. Hell, I don't even know if my N64 works!
And yet, an idea I have been tossing around like some kind of meditation stress ball while I lay in bed is using my video games or at least the aspect and aesthetics of video games I grew up with in art some how. It supports the "easy in" theory of mine while not insulting the viewers intelligence. And as a contemporary art form, it could be worth quite a lot more than a $600 gaming system that will only depreciate in value with use over time. I should know, I have a Super Nintendo that can't be repaired and is probably only worth $5 on the open market if I really didn't care about it.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Another Disconnect
So I'm sitting here at school doing some work to catch up having, what would have been the amount of an average time, when out of nowhere, this sudden feeling strikes me like a ton of bricks.
Once again, I don't feel I belong here. I don't feel like I'm good enough to be here. I don't feel as if I am a part of what makes this place so great in my eyes because I lack that connection that other people have with everyone else. That level of social status. That something special.
I don't know when I started to feel this per say. All I know is that it started just before I began typing this up. And now, all I want to do is just go home, load up Roller Coaster Tycoon 3, and work on a fireworks show nobody cares about or will see unless I upload it on to YouTube. Besides, I'm done with what I needed to do here, so it wouldn't be like what I want to do now would hurt much of my school work. Just my
social life (which, if the stereotype holds true, means I have none because of the fact I type up a blog).
Once again, I don't feel I belong here. I don't feel like I'm good enough to be here. I don't feel as if I am a part of what makes this place so great in my eyes because I lack that connection that other people have with everyone else. That level of social status. That something special.
I don't know when I started to feel this per say. All I know is that it started just before I began typing this up. And now, all I want to do is just go home, load up Roller Coaster Tycoon 3, and work on a fireworks show nobody cares about or will see unless I upload it on to YouTube. Besides, I'm done with what I needed to do here, so it wouldn't be like what I want to do now would hurt much of my school work. Just my
social life (which, if the stereotype holds true, means I have none because of the fact I type up a blog).
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Irony on Election Day
I can't believe it took me this long to process what happened. But it makes sense that I had to wait about eight hours, as I probably couldn't form words at what I was witnessing.
It is said that statistically, more people vote for American Idol than they do for any political election. This has been backed with hard numbers released by the phone companies and polling stations, as well as every other news reporter during the height of the show's popularity. They even made a movie based around this idea called American Dreams.
While I blindly believed this statistic, I never really felt the irony about it until last night.
My mom got up to vote, but not in the local midterm elections for the state, but for Dancing with the Stars. She was so enthusiastic it was like she was playing a game she couldn't lose. Keep in mind that neither of my parents are registered to vote in local or national elections due to a superstition of theirs. (The belief is that once they register to vote, they will have to move. It's been proved twice in my lifetime.)
The entire time I was sitting here at the computer, I heard her trying to redial and get her vote in thinking how ironic it is that a non-registered US Citizen, a minority no less, is voting for someone she wants to win a television show instead of the important issues at hand.
Me? The negative mud-slinging ads drove me away from registering again this time around, as they did last year and the year before that and the year before that. It seems to get worse every year to the point where I need an outside source to tell me where everyone stands on the issues that matter. Honestly, I don't care about their moral character or what side of the House or Senate floor they will be sitting on. I want to know what their undeclared opinions are, and I would like to hear it from their own mouths in their own ads that they've approved.
It is said that statistically, more people vote for American Idol than they do for any political election. This has been backed with hard numbers released by the phone companies and polling stations, as well as every other news reporter during the height of the show's popularity. They even made a movie based around this idea called American Dreams.
While I blindly believed this statistic, I never really felt the irony about it until last night.
My mom got up to vote, but not in the local midterm elections for the state, but for Dancing with the Stars. She was so enthusiastic it was like she was playing a game she couldn't lose. Keep in mind that neither of my parents are registered to vote in local or national elections due to a superstition of theirs. (The belief is that once they register to vote, they will have to move. It's been proved twice in my lifetime.)
The entire time I was sitting here at the computer, I heard her trying to redial and get her vote in thinking how ironic it is that a non-registered US Citizen, a minority no less, is voting for someone she wants to win a television show instead of the important issues at hand.
Me? The negative mud-slinging ads drove me away from registering again this time around, as they did last year and the year before that and the year before that. It seems to get worse every year to the point where I need an outside source to tell me where everyone stands on the issues that matter. Honestly, I don't care about their moral character or what side of the House or Senate floor they will be sitting on. I want to know what their undeclared opinions are, and I would like to hear it from their own mouths in their own ads that they've approved.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Sunday Driving Session No. 3
Yeah, I know, I should have started this sooner. But to be honest, I didn't think about doing this until Janet told me I should. Why? Because it is a great referance to go back to when creating art like I stated in my last post.
So, what happened today?
Learning how to drive got a bit more frustrating, at least personally. The car kept either flooding or choking. It was eventually discovered that my brain keeps sending a signal to my feet along the lines of "remove both feet at the same time" when I was letting off the clutch. Jason thought maybe if this was more like DDR, it would be a little easier. There's something about that game that makes my brain function differently. Actually, all video games do that. Anyway, back to driving.
After several rocky starts and a few good ones, we pretty much plotted a course that involved going from one parking lot to another in a circut. Occationally, we would go inbetween or cut corners or even go the route in reverse. (Not with the car IN reverse, but the same route going the opposite direction.) This time around, there were no cars behind me. Just cars going the opposite way than me.
All in all, it was generally a good session, up until we did something that made me very nervous. We drove to Watkins. That's right, we drove to my college, passing the dorms, over the bridge, passing the garage where several students were working on their metal casting molds, and into the parking lot. The far side, as I felt evil with my nervousness. The only reason we drove there was because Jason needed to use the bathroom.
After he did his business in the building, he had me drive back to the parking lot where we switched off originally. He let me pick which of the many driveways I can pull out from that the school has (which is two, the dorm side and the school side). I chose the driveway that was closest to the traffic light.
I think I brought what happened next onto myself. The light was red, which meant I was in the clear as far as trying to get back on the main road. However, in my hurried state to beat the light change, I ended up stalling! Half the car was in the lane! Immediate panic took hold as I frantically tried to start the car and pull out like some player who forgot he was having sex without a condom. The car stalled on my second attempt, which only increased the panic. Finally, on the third time, I ended up squeeling the tires and rushing onto the main road. I would have checked my rear view mirror to see if all that rush and panic was for null, but I was too releaved that the stress factor had lifted for only a little bit.
It seems that with the exception of the first session, I'm going to have moments of panic like these every week. Jason pretty much confirmed that with several stories about how he or someone else would be in traffic and then the car would stall on them while trying to turn or go up a hill after a stop light.
However, that's not the worst of it. What's worse? I'm still driving without a Learner's Permit. Yeah, so that drive 5mph under the speed limit to the school so my teacher could use the bathroom was an illegal run. Screw the fact I was going the speed limit. I got lucky.
So, let's see. The main feelings of the day was frustration, panic, and suprisingly a sense of normality when nothing bad happened (i.e. when I was going straight with little to no problem). Frustration has been done in art, as far as I'm concerned, and in very cliche manner in my opinion. The escape for that is to put the frustration into context and produce a piece about the frustrations of driving or learning how to drive. Panic I've never seen done in art, so that should be interesting. Normality, especially in the context of driving, I don't think has ever been done. I'm sure it has, but how to do depict the norm visually without it being boring? That's the question that needs to be answered.
So, what happened today?
Learning how to drive got a bit more frustrating, at least personally. The car kept either flooding or choking. It was eventually discovered that my brain keeps sending a signal to my feet along the lines of "remove both feet at the same time" when I was letting off the clutch. Jason thought maybe if this was more like DDR, it would be a little easier. There's something about that game that makes my brain function differently. Actually, all video games do that. Anyway, back to driving.
After several rocky starts and a few good ones, we pretty much plotted a course that involved going from one parking lot to another in a circut. Occationally, we would go inbetween or cut corners or even go the route in reverse. (Not with the car IN reverse, but the same route going the opposite direction.) This time around, there were no cars behind me. Just cars going the opposite way than me.
All in all, it was generally a good session, up until we did something that made me very nervous. We drove to Watkins. That's right, we drove to my college, passing the dorms, over the bridge, passing the garage where several students were working on their metal casting molds, and into the parking lot. The far side, as I felt evil with my nervousness. The only reason we drove there was because Jason needed to use the bathroom.
After he did his business in the building, he had me drive back to the parking lot where we switched off originally. He let me pick which of the many driveways I can pull out from that the school has (which is two, the dorm side and the school side). I chose the driveway that was closest to the traffic light.
I think I brought what happened next onto myself. The light was red, which meant I was in the clear as far as trying to get back on the main road. However, in my hurried state to beat the light change, I ended up stalling! Half the car was in the lane! Immediate panic took hold as I frantically tried to start the car and pull out like some player who forgot he was having sex without a condom. The car stalled on my second attempt, which only increased the panic. Finally, on the third time, I ended up squeeling the tires and rushing onto the main road. I would have checked my rear view mirror to see if all that rush and panic was for null, but I was too releaved that the stress factor had lifted for only a little bit.
It seems that with the exception of the first session, I'm going to have moments of panic like these every week. Jason pretty much confirmed that with several stories about how he or someone else would be in traffic and then the car would stall on them while trying to turn or go up a hill after a stop light.
However, that's not the worst of it. What's worse? I'm still driving without a Learner's Permit. Yeah, so that drive 5mph under the speed limit to the school so my teacher could use the bathroom was an illegal run. Screw the fact I was going the speed limit. I got lucky.
So, let's see. The main feelings of the day was frustration, panic, and suprisingly a sense of normality when nothing bad happened (i.e. when I was going straight with little to no problem). Frustration has been done in art, as far as I'm concerned, and in very cliche manner in my opinion. The escape for that is to put the frustration into context and produce a piece about the frustrations of driving or learning how to drive. Panic I've never seen done in art, so that should be interesting. Normality, especially in the context of driving, I don't think has ever been done. I'm sure it has, but how to do depict the norm visually without it being boring? That's the question that needs to be answered.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Dashboard of Ideas and Possibilities
Ever since Jason started to take it upon himself to teach me how to drive, several strange things have been happening. Not between me and Jason, but just in general.
The first thing that appeared to happen was a sudden feeling of genuine respect from those that I told this to. The people were nice before, there's no denying that, but it seems now that they are actually treating me like a human being. I even got that feeling from people that don't even know that I'm learning how to drive for the first time in several years! In fact, I'm convinced several people are thinking that I'm just learning how to drive a stick instead of learning how to drive ON a stick.
Naturally, with learning how to drive what amounts to a several-hundred pound metal battering ram, there is always that sense of fear or some kind of paralysing nervousness. I had that happen just recently when I had to make a right turn while a car was behind me. If memory still serves me correctly, the car died in the process and I couldn't get my sense of self back. That's right. I couldn't feel like myself for a while after being frozen in fear.
I'm told that I should use this experience to make art. There is a great potential there and a large amount of ground to cover. Everything from delayed rites of passages and the feeling of being lower than rock bottom as far as how pathetic you feel. Unfortunately, I have no idea where to start. Writing down my feelings seems to be the best starting point right now, as I'm very used to doing that. Not this past month as much, mind you, but it is still a normal practice for me.
The idea of visually communicating how pathetic I feel for being as old as I am and just now getting around to (re)learning how to drive appeals to me. It's probably going to be a very powerful body of work if I can explore it effectively. But I've never been good at evoking a feeling visually. My technique gets in the way. Or rather, my lack there of. However, before I can concern myself with my technique, I have to ask myself this: How the hell do I produce the feeling of being lower than pathetic visually using nothing but my experiences?
Appendix
Added @ 11:55
I guess I should also add here something that I feel needs to be said, but hasn't been able to be put into words until now.
For a long time, a lot of people have always told me that nobody is going to come down out of the blue and help you do the things that will make you a better person. You have to do them yourself, because the world is just that cruel. And for just as long, I refused to believe that. I refused to believe that the world was that heartless, even after being teased and bullied for years. Something that would have probably confirmed what was told me so many times.
But then came Jason, forcing me to sit behind the wheel of his shitty car illegally (I don't have a learner's permit still). And he is willing to take the time to teach me. I'm not a bother to him. I'm not taking up his time. I even asked him this past session if I was taking him away from something as important as sleep since he was yawning a lot.
To say that I appreciate his time and his willingness to do what everyone else said could never and would never be done wouldn't be enough. Yes, I appreciate what he is doing, but not at the level in which such words could truly show. It's as if we are breaking all the rules of what is considered normal by society all over again, only this time we are enjoying it for what it is and actually benefiting from it instead of just producing chaos. It's that crazy urge that actually is crazy enough to work out in the end.
It's a hard thing to explain. I feel more than appreciation for what he is doing, but what that feeling is I can't tell. Gratitude, maybe. Or some kind of social debt in which the words "I owe you one" need to be paid in full upon uttering them.
All I know is that when I'm sitting in his car trying to learn how to drive knowing that he is willingly teaching me, knowing that he wasn't forced and that he is practically forcing me to force myself to do something I've been putting off for 7 years, I get this feeling like something good will come out of it. Something better than sex.
The first thing that appeared to happen was a sudden feeling of genuine respect from those that I told this to. The people were nice before, there's no denying that, but it seems now that they are actually treating me like a human being. I even got that feeling from people that don't even know that I'm learning how to drive for the first time in several years! In fact, I'm convinced several people are thinking that I'm just learning how to drive a stick instead of learning how to drive ON a stick.
Naturally, with learning how to drive what amounts to a several-hundred pound metal battering ram, there is always that sense of fear or some kind of paralysing nervousness. I had that happen just recently when I had to make a right turn while a car was behind me. If memory still serves me correctly, the car died in the process and I couldn't get my sense of self back. That's right. I couldn't feel like myself for a while after being frozen in fear.
I'm told that I should use this experience to make art. There is a great potential there and a large amount of ground to cover. Everything from delayed rites of passages and the feeling of being lower than rock bottom as far as how pathetic you feel. Unfortunately, I have no idea where to start. Writing down my feelings seems to be the best starting point right now, as I'm very used to doing that. Not this past month as much, mind you, but it is still a normal practice for me.
The idea of visually communicating how pathetic I feel for being as old as I am and just now getting around to (re)learning how to drive appeals to me. It's probably going to be a very powerful body of work if I can explore it effectively. But I've never been good at evoking a feeling visually. My technique gets in the way. Or rather, my lack there of. However, before I can concern myself with my technique, I have to ask myself this: How the hell do I produce the feeling of being lower than pathetic visually using nothing but my experiences?
Appendix
Added @ 11:55
I guess I should also add here something that I feel needs to be said, but hasn't been able to be put into words until now.
For a long time, a lot of people have always told me that nobody is going to come down out of the blue and help you do the things that will make you a better person. You have to do them yourself, because the world is just that cruel. And for just as long, I refused to believe that. I refused to believe that the world was that heartless, even after being teased and bullied for years. Something that would have probably confirmed what was told me so many times.
But then came Jason, forcing me to sit behind the wheel of his shitty car illegally (I don't have a learner's permit still). And he is willing to take the time to teach me. I'm not a bother to him. I'm not taking up his time. I even asked him this past session if I was taking him away from something as important as sleep since he was yawning a lot.
To say that I appreciate his time and his willingness to do what everyone else said could never and would never be done wouldn't be enough. Yes, I appreciate what he is doing, but not at the level in which such words could truly show. It's as if we are breaking all the rules of what is considered normal by society all over again, only this time we are enjoying it for what it is and actually benefiting from it instead of just producing chaos. It's that crazy urge that actually is crazy enough to work out in the end.
It's a hard thing to explain. I feel more than appreciation for what he is doing, but what that feeling is I can't tell. Gratitude, maybe. Or some kind of social debt in which the words "I owe you one" need to be paid in full upon uttering them.
All I know is that when I'm sitting in his car trying to learn how to drive knowing that he is willingly teaching me, knowing that he wasn't forced and that he is practically forcing me to force myself to do something I've been putting off for 7 years, I get this feeling like something good will come out of it. Something better than sex.
