Birthday Blog

I've been on this planet for 24 years now.

I've had this blog for 5 years.

Made this in less than 24 man-hours total.


In retrospect, I'm content. Not happy; just content.

Sane and Insane: Where's the Fucking Line?!

For the better part of the semester, I've been taking on personal projects with the intent of "keeping me sane" during the semester. After all, I have four studio classes that involve some kind of outside time and pretty much force me to do projects that feel like a chore in one respect or another.

However, this past weekend, amids the sleep deprivation and late nights staring at the computer screen with blood-shot eyes and headphones blaring whatever MP3 I just downloaded, I came to a sharp realization.

These projects that I am doing to keep me sane are driving me closer to insanity. I am moving from one obsession to the next like a rabid fan girl in a room full of the latest teenage fads spanning the better part of several years! Instead of doing what I want on the side I'm doing what I want when I want and saying "screw you!" to the things I need to do!

The madness of insecurity is tightening its grasp, and the breaking point is slowly coming closer to actually happening. I fear that I can't stop this, that I have passed the point of no return. Because, like a baby going through the "mine" phase, I can't stop thinking selfish and shallow thoughts and wanting to do the things I want to do, even knowing what the damage will be to the things I need to do.

If this is the helpless feeling those that actually follow through with committing suicide feel before pulling the trigger, I can see why they would take the easy way out. I was there once before, but it was due to loneliness and being a social outcast. Now? I just feel like I've lost control of my life and I can't bring it back on to the road.

Accepting & Expecting Social Failure

There always seems to come a point in my disconnect with life in general where I end up losing that which I wanted to keep for so long. And if I can be selfish for just one moment, this always happens when I need what I lose.

Right now, I'm staring down the face of the potential end of a friendship that I've grown fond of. Two, in fact. Both people are nice guys in general and are often very busy doing what it is that makes them so great in my eyes. But it has become apparent
that we have reached a point where frustration and anger will ultimately lead to disownership.

I don't know what happened or when it first started, but I've come to expect and anticipate this kind of thing no matter how hopeful I get that maybe this time I will be wrong and I'll be able to keep the friendship going longer than anything I've known. Maybe even make that sincere connection with a person. But this has happened to me too many times for me to freak out and try to correct the mistakes by making myself a better friend for the sake of keeping their friendship. Whenever I tried, it would never work. After being shot down several times over the course of what little social life I have, it's gotten to the point where once I see a hint of someone threatening to stop talking to me, I accept it and expect that expression of ultimate frustration to be the last time we ever communicate. I don't try to fix the problem anymore, because I know that if I try to, I'll just make it worse.

And yet, I have this feeling that people expect me to freak out and try to save a floundering friendship only to be even more disappointed by my lack of attempt. I can't win either way.

Selfish Complaint

For the last several days, I've been avoiding doing the things that I need to be doing and have been doing the things that I want to. Mostly out of spite for the past few months, but partly because I don't know any better.

However, much like everything else in life, that juvenile mistake is catching up with me as I type this. And I'll probably complain about it, half-ass my way through it, and then ultimately forget about it until it is due.

It seems appropriate that this past week was Spring Break, and in some aspect depending on several points of views, I could justify my actions. I've been creatively dead; I've been feeling burned out; I'm in need of a vacation the likes of which I'll never get. If I was any kind of person that justified their actions with excuses like I was before, I would use these in a heartbeat.

And as much as I would like to break the habit, I know I will probably end up defaulting to said action. Sadly, I know that I can't do that. I can't even justify my last independent art project! But I know people don't like having things happen without a reason behind it. That's why we have religion.

If it weren't for the fact that I would be disappointing so many people, I would drop everything I was doing and just concentrate on me. Drop school, drop work, drop everything that I have to do and focus on the things I want to do. But I don't live in that kind of situation.

Before my sister left to go back to school herself, she was complaining and crying about how she feels her employer is taking advantage of her dedicated labor. She gave up her Spring Break to help cover while two employees were off giving birth. On the face value, this isn't anything big, but apparently this past Friday was payday. She had trouble getting paid for her labor over Thanksgiving, and chances are she won't get paid again. To push her even farther into the territory of crying because "you just have to cry," everyone got brand new chef coats to wear around the restaurant. Everyone but her.

You never really know how selfish your own complaints are until you hear someone else's.

Pity Party for One: Number WhoGivesAShitAnymore?

It is a beautiful day today. They called for rain, and we got sun and a pleasant breeze. It's the kind of weather that one would appreciate and celebrate by going outside to play with friends, take a pleasure jog, or even people watch.

But I can't do that. Rather, I can't bring myself to do that.

I'm on my Spring Break right now, and while I could be relaxing like every other college student (reads: sleeping in and doing whatever the shit I want), I am reminded every morning that I'm not like every other college student. I'm not like every other person my age.

My sister is on her Spring Break as well and home from school. The family dynamic is back to where I am left to my own self-isolation, amplified by the fact that what little attention I get is very little and very late. My opinion doesn't matter; when I'm right, I'm wrong; everyone gets pissed at me just as fast as I get pissed at them for getting pissed at me. And then life goes on once everyone retires to their bed and sleeps the day away only to wake up like nothing happened and nothing changed. At least in the major sense. I'm sure if someone died, the next day would feel empty for most of us.

It's a beautiful day today, and all the beautiful people are out. Women jogging to keep their already tone figures in shape; buff men playing sports shirtless for all to see; families enjoying the day together at the local park's plastic playground equipment.

And I cannot enjoy it. I sit here and whine to everyone and nobody at once, wishing to be rescued. An easy target for those that need easy pray, sure. I won't deny that.

The creativity hasn't come back. The best idea I have had since this supposed period of relaxation involved appropriating something I saw on an anime (Tenchi Muyo, to be specific). It won't pass as art. It will only pass as that little something I wasn't suppose to do: making a video piece to show off what I can do instead of trying to communicate an idea.

Someone on YouTube called me out on that recently with my War Games piece, and I can see what they were talking about now. The only reason I made that piece was because I could and not because I wanted to communicate what I thought I was trying to. And if my art education has taught me anything that is a basic truth, it is that apparently you can't do that in the contemporary gallery scene. That isn't art. That's bullshit.

It's a very beautiful day today. I can see it from the window close to me. The flowers are blooming, and the small wildlife in our backyard is actively gathering and preparing for when the sun goes down. The kids that live behind us are running all over their yard like it's summer again to burn off whatever energy they have had stored up after being in school for the whole day.

I wish I could enjoy today like they can.

Project War Games: An Experiment in Artistic Assault

I've been focusing most of my productive and creative energy towards this project for quite some time. I just finished the more artistic cut of the video last week. Yesterday, I got around to making a version of YouTube, mostly because the pretentious side of me doesn't think YouTube is worthy of real video art unless that is part of my intent. Unfortunately, I caught whatever was going around and couldn't post it here until now.

So, yeah, enjoy a more entertaining version of my piece.



Things to keep in mind: The music was added for this cut, but is not used in the artsy version. I only used the music to get a decent show pattern going as part of the piece. Fireworks firing like an actual assault didn't look right given the set.

There is a different soundtrack in the version I have for exhibition, as well as a collection of better angles that are cut into the piece where appropriate. You get a hint of that during the bridge of the piece. For this cut, however, I just kept my default angle on the entire time even though it denies several more interesting points of view.

Silent Social Space

I was thinking today that I don't blog enough. Or rather, I don't blog as much as I used to. And like the faces of the moon, it would appear that after thinking this thought, my day started to drift into depression to the point where I'm listening to the same MP3 of a European pop remix of an obscure video game track.

The bulk of this rant will consist of the usual shit. Once again, I'm starting to feel like I am not fit for the social aspects of life. Actually, to the point where my mind begins to glorify what it must be like to be a social enigma. Not the bad kind, but the kind that gets the attention of the press and the easily impressed because the know they can't get access to said information. It's like acting like a cat. You want to know more about what they like and what they don't like, but in the end, they will only let you know what they feel like letting you know.

And once again, I am finding myself in a bubble of cultural isolation caused by the addiction of simulation and stylized stimulus. My creative has taken a dive, with my interest locked on to emulating Japanese landscapes from the feudal era and creating another fireworks show for entertainment purposes rather than art. Come to think of it, I seem to be spending a lot of time with people I know in other departments of the school talking about their major if not critiquing them before their teacher gets a hold of them. Already this past week, I told my film friends how engaging the first three minutes of his short is as well as how nice that it feels longer than three minutes. A very difficult to accomplish in short films, from what I've seen. I also help a Graphic Design friend with trouble shooting a photo he was outlining for a digital woodblock print. I've even talked "nerd" with several students who actually find what I have to say interesting instead of trivial.

But throw me into a social setting where the idea of community is key to survival (i.e. the art world), and I flounder like a fish out of water flopping to get back. You wouldn't get that given the above, but it seems that the community I have found myself in is not the same as the one I'm trying to get into, which is a field of people admired for their creative talents in trying to communicate what cannot be said in words (or can, but doesn't have the same kind of lasting punch).

Trying to get in is a simple task, but very daunting at the same time. This month, I should be documenting and looking for a second juried show I can get into. Instead, I'm here pouring my emotions on the screen for those few that actually give a damn about how I feel. I've been both rejected and accepted into juried shows, so the process shouldn't be that difficult. I should have had it done this morning if I really wanted to! Unfortunately, that is not the case. I'll be sacrificing spring break on my own to just get some of the documentation of my video art done.

This whole day has turned me back into someone who wants nothing more than someone to pity me to the point where they can't help but love me. As selfish as that sounds, I've defaulted to that as a way to get me to sleep at night. Once again, I manufacture the perfect bed buddy just so I can fall asleep. I don't necessarily fall asleep happy. I just fall asleep feeling better than I would have if I didn't.

My mother keeps yelling at our birds like they are dogs telling them to fly down from the picture frame or to stay away from certain areas they like to walk all over. I keep telling her that they are creatures of habit. I'm starting to feel like I'm a creature of habit, since I keep coming back to this way of living once I hit a low enough low.