"When you come right down to it, all you have is your self. Your self is a sun with a thousand rays in your belly. The rest is nothing."-----Pablo Picasso

"Computers are useless, all they can give you are answers."-----Pablo Picasso

My interest in art encompasses a wide variety of media, including digital graphics, paintings, drawings, and experimental art. Some of my favorite artists include, but aren't limited to: Picasso, DeKooning, Kandinsky, Pollack, Renoir, Matisse, Munch, VanGogh, Dali, Leger, Mondrian, etc.

Writers who I admire are Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, Harlan Ellison, Arthur C. Clarke, Robert Louis Stevenson, Ray Bradbury, Robert E. Howard, Walter Tevis, Arthur Conan Doyle, Lord Dunsany, H.P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, and Frank Herbert, among countless others.  I own over five hundred books, including second hand science fiction paperbacks, hardcover art books, old comic books, old magazines, and several bookcases of hardcovers. Books are my passion.

Musically, I am inspired by the Beatles, the Who, the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, the Doors, Led Zeppelin, Arthur Alexander, the Platters, Elvis Presley, Elvis Costello, Buddy Holly, Buddy Guy, John Lee Hooker, Motown, Sinatra, Nirvana, NIN, the Ramones, Social Distortion, the Clash, Bad Religion, the White Stripes, and Beethoven, Chopin, and Gershwin. Oh, and many others...

I play guitar and have written several songs. I am a lousy singer.

I also have lots of DVDs, and most of them are drive in and cult schlock cinema, sci-fi, art films, and silent movies. Charles Chaplin, Orson Welles, and Ed Wood are my cinematic heroes.

Recently, I have developed a fascination with the new media, digital art, and I have been spending my free time learning the ins and outs of paint programs (mostly Photoshop), and I am taking baby steps towards digital filmmaking as well. My knowledge has been mostly self taught, and I find it fascinating. My digital art can be found at http://t_aymar.tripod.com.

I have been taking art classes throughout my entire life (...hence the title of my site "Art 2," in honor of the fact that very few people in my high school ever made it beyond "Art 1!!!") and I obtained a degree in fine arts years ago.

Anyway, this site reflects where I am now, what I have been up to, and where I am going.

For examples of my fine art skills, go here.

For previous poems, lyrics, and thoughts, go here.

The Julians - 1999  Acrylic on Canvas

Jester - 2006  Acrylic on Canvas

Saturday, April 12, 2008  My Nephew!

Welcome to the world!

My nephew was born on Thursday night, April 10, the first child of my baby sister Colleen and her husband Leo. Another little one to spoil every Christmas! The baby is also named Leo. Leo the fifth.

God bless their family. I cannot believe my youngest sister is now a mother. I remember when she was a newborn bundle in a crib!

March 20, 2008 Graphic Novel Idea

I am trying to put together a graphic novel based on my love for fifties science fiction movies and comics (and the fiction of Arthur Clarke, Issac Asimov, Edmund Hamilton, Harlan Ellison, Doc Smith, and others), and the Weird Science Fantasy comics with art by Wally Wood and Al Williamson. Indeed, they are my absolute favorite comic books. Here is the cover idea, done as a tribute:

If I fully realize my vision, it will have traces of Alex Raymond's Flash Gordon and Robert Crumb's surrealism too. So far I like how it is coming but now I have to sit down and come up with a script.

I am torn though. I wish to pursue fine arts painting and photography. In this day and age, is it acceptable to want to be Picasso AND to make a comic book? Then again, a true artist shouldn't care what others think and just keep on creating his works with a carefree attitude. Besides, the young Picasso did drawings for restaurant menus and posters for dance halls, so the line between art and illustration has always been illusory. I will do what I want to do!

February 06, 2008  Howard Lieberman

I just learned, only now, that my most influential art professor at CCAC, Howard Lieberman, died.

But the worst of it is that he died in April of 2007, and I didn't know about it until this moment, Feb. 2008. How could I be so divorced from reality? Life gets away from you, or you get so caught up in it that you lose track of what is going on. And people you respected.

The last time I saw him was a little over a year ago. He was shopping at the Iggle when I ran into him, and he still had words of encouragement for me. When I told him I had done illustration for an ad agency and that the project won an award, he seemed pleased that his teaching had led to good opportunities for his former students. The hallmark of a great teacher is that he or she is actively interested in improving the skills and lives of others. And I always stopped by at his booth at the Three Rivers Arts Festival.

Howard was one of the most gifted artists in America; he did with a pencil, in intricate and large scale drawings, what Rembrandt did with paints on canvas. He evoked a powerful mood with light and shade.

He was very laid back and low key. He just did what he did. He created art. But he was also a great teacher and I learned more about drawing and the act of creation from him than anyone else.

I respected him, and Paul Jay, and Peter Calaboyias, my professors at CCAC. And I still respect them. What I would give to be back in the studio on the North Side with all of them, because my moments in that building on the North Side were among the best in my life. I looked foward to going to class and created many paintings and drawings in that building. That was twenty years ago, and life moves quickly, a time warp in one final direction.

My major was fine arts, and these are fine men.

Monday, February 04, 2008   Lost in Time

Thinking about when I was a kid. I turn 39 in a few days, and the older I get the more I miss my childhood. I can understand why Ray Bradbury wrote so many stories about his life as a kid in the 20s and 30s. A child has such a wide eyed view of the world. Everything is so big and so important. And the world is what you make of it.

I used to draw for hours on end, with crayons and colored pencils, on typing paper or butcher paper or even lined paper, whatever I had around me. I still draw, but not with the unfettered creativity that I had when I was four years old. It was hard to make mistakes when I didn't know what the rules were to begin with. I created because I enjoyed it, and not because it was an obsession.

I used to have a coffee jar with plastic dinosaurs, army men, and matchbox cars. Many times they were scattered on my floor, and in my mind the army men were fighting the dinosaurs while people were fleeing in the cars. And always with a VROOM VROOM sound. Or a growl from the dinosaurs, or a kapow from the soldiers...

I used to ride my bike everywhere, up and down hills and ramps, and one time it even saved my life and took me away from a car that tried to lure me in because the driver told me my mom wanted me to go with him. MY folks taught me right you bastard! You didn't even know my mom's name when I asked you. I miss my bike. I used to fold baseball cards in the spokes so that the tires would make a flapping noise...

I miss school, because I loved learning new things, even though bigger kids weren't always nice to me. That was when I learned that good didn't always triumph over evil. And that people could be cruel to you no matter how nice you were to them.

But still I wouldn't change a thing, because I did have some good friends, and we used to play street hockey, and we used to go swimming at Westwood pool every summer, and we used to laugh a lot, and the bullies made me appreciate my friends even more.

And I remember how good my parents were to me, and how hard they both worked to provide for my sisters and me. We never went without food or shelter, and the Christmas tree always had lots and lots of boxes under it. And they were always there for us when we had a cold or a cough or a broken tooth or a bloody nose, or a good report card. And I love them both. They worked hard, and so I learned not to be lazy.

Though sometimes I like peace and quiet and calm and solitude.

I thank God that my life has been good to me. I hope I spend the rest of it doing the things that I enjoy, and learning new things everyday.

Thursday, January 03, 2008   Kabbalistic Analysis of My Full Name

There are 19 letters in your name.

Those 19 letters total to 93

There are 6 vowels and 13 consonants in your name.

What your first name means:

Greek- Male God's honour; God fearing.

English- Male One who honors God. The biblical Timothy was the young Christian to whom Paul wrote. 'Let no man look down on your youth.'

Your number is: 3

The characteristics of 3 are: Expression, verbalization, socialization, the arts, the joy of living.

The expression or destiny for 3:

An Expression of 3 produces a quest for destiny with words along a variety of lines that may include writing, speaking, singing, acting or teaching; our entertainers, writers, litigators, teachers, salesmen, and composers. You also have the destiny to sell yourself or sell just about any product that comes along. You are imaginative in your presentation, and you may have creative talents in the arts, although these are more likely to be latent. You are an optimistic person that seems ever enthusiastic about life and living. You are friendly, loving and social, and people like you because you are charming and such a good conversationalist. Your ability to communicate may often inspire others. It is your role in life to inspire and motivate; to raise the spirits of those around you.

The negative side of number 3 Expression is superficiality. You may tend to scatter your forces and simply be too easygoing. It is advisable for the negative 3 to avoid dwelling on trivial matters, especially gossip.

Your Soul Urge number is: 9

A Soul Urge number of 9 means:

With a 9 Soul Urge, you want to give to others, usually in a humanitarian or philanthropic manner. You are highly motivated to give friendship, affection and love. And you are generous in giving of your knowledge and experience. You have very sharing urges, and you are likely to have a great deal to share. Your concern for others makes you a very sympathetic and generous person with a sensitive and compassionate nature.

You are able to view life in very broad and intuitive terms. You often express high ideals and an inspirational approach to life. If you are able to fully realize the potential of your motivation, you will be a very self-sacrificing person who is able to give freely without being concerned about any return or reward.

As with all human beings, you are prone to sometimes express the negative attitudes inherent to your Soul Urges. You may become too sensitive and tend to express emotions strongly at times. There can be significant conflict between higher aims and personal ambitions. You may resent the idea of giving all of the time and, in fact, if there is too much 9 energy in your nature you may reject the idea. You may often be disappointed in the lack of perfection in yourself and others.

Your Inner Dream number is: 3

An Inner Dream number of 3 means:

You dream of artistic expression; writing, painting, music. You would seek to more freely express your inner feeling and obtain more enjoyment from life. You also dream of being more popular, likable, and appreciated.

I am not one for astrology, mysticism, or prognostication, unless it is Jedi powers, then I believe. But I found this to be an extremely and eerily accurate representation of me. Maybe there are things that are beyond our understanding. Or maybe we weren't meant to understand everything. But sometimes this stuff fascinates me. Other times I am more fascinated by real science, but the artist in me is drawn towards things that are weird.

January 1, 2008 Happy New Year Everybody!

I fell asleep at 9pm so I missed midnight! So I am currently sipping a glass of champagne this morning and look forward to the fact that I wont have a hangover the rest of the day!

See, 2008 is already a better year than most!

What do I look forward to? Meeting my niece for the first time when my sister visits the burgh! She is almost one year old. And I will be meeting my nephew in a few months when my other baby sister has her baby!

My New Year's resolutions include painting a series of canvases, reading a load of books, learning digital filmmaking, and getting out of the house more (catching live music, drawing live models at the increasing number of sketch sessions appearing here)!

It will be the last year of my thirties and I want to learn more and grow as a human being. I miss a lot of my old friends, and I hope to meet my new friends,  those who have corresponded with me thru e-mail.

Hmm...this is good champagne, maybe I will have a hangover after all! 

May 25, 2007 Star Wars Turns Thirty and I am Having a Midlife Crisis!

May 25, 1977

Star Wars opened in movie theaters. I certainly feel old, but I wonder how it will make my dad feel? He took me to the theater to see it! He was younger then than I am now!

It was unlike anything I had seen before, and it made an eight year old child experience, truly experience, the magic of cinema, and the artistry of directors and matte painters and effects designers.

And it was fun. Whenever I see it as an adult, it takes me back to when I was a child. All those world-weary and worn out, burned out things like death and taxes and war and work and sadness seem to float away.

I remember a simple, more magical, and happier time. Two hours of bliss for a child's imagination to be glued to a movie screen. For that, I can thank George Lucas. But I guess I can thank that little boy I once was, that wide-eyed child who still resides somewhere inside of me.

May 21, 2007   Zen

I am currently reading a book about the Eastern philosophy of Zen. I think viewing those Japanese woodcuts have stirred my interest in the Asian arts. I am amazed that much of what I read thus far seems to make perfect sense to me. Indeed, when I am at peace with myself, when I am rational and thoughtful, my mind attains these things that I am reading about.

I guess I am searching for a more fixed and less rocky road to personal peace and happiness. I just want to be in a calm place.

I am not against organized religion as much as I am against the abuse of religious beliefs for purposes of power and subjugation. But I cannot be a part of organized religion because I see too much faith placed in what others can do for you, and not enough faith in yourself, or taking matters of life and soul into your own hands. I don't believe that anybody holds all the answers: not our religious leaders, not our world leaders, not our celebrities. Humans are flawed creatures, and so I question everything, good or bad.

I am not one who believes in any one path to enlightenment over another. I merely wish to attain a mind that is uncluttered, and feelings that are free of the fear that these modern times seem destined to impose on all of us.

April 15, 2007  My Temple of Worship

I went to the Carnegie Museum of Art today to view an excellent exhibit called "Modern Japanese Prints." The images on display spanned a time period of roughly one hundred and fifty years (Sôsaku Hanga and Shin Hanga), and I was in awe. I can see why the Impressionists loved Japanese wood block prints. I admire their economy of line, startling clarity, and beauty, but what amazed me the most is that the Japanese prints from the early Twentieth Century had elements of Cubism, Modernism, and Expressionism. It seems that the Japanese had taken away as much from the Western art world as they had given to it. Each and every print was an example of profound skill, craftsmanship, and loving care by the men and women who made them.

I also toured the Museum's permanent exhibit of paintings and I came to realize that an art museum is my personal temple of worship. Creation surrounded me on all of its walls, and I felt a deep respect for the artists. I felt one with the world for a change. I find more spirituality in a museum than I do in a church. An artist's work is a physical manifestation of his or her soul. I truly believe that.

April 13, 2007  April Showers

It is very gray here in the 'Burgh, chilly, dreary, and dim. But I must admit that I like this weather.

I like wearing warm clothes. I find it more enjoyable to be trapped indoors with a book and a glass of wine, or a canvas and some paints and music playing in the background. I like the solitude and the time for reflection. The world moves too fast for me. I am not impatient and angry, but I see constant examples of it in friends and strangers alike.

Everybody wants to go nowhere, or around in circles, very fast.

My skill at drawing was fostered by my patience and my observational skills. The world moves too fast for me, and so does Time. Sometimes I find that weather such as we have right now slows everybody down. I am like a sponge. If my surroundings are stressful, then I am full of stress. If people are impatient and moody, I become anxious. If the world around me is a little quiet, then I am at peace.

I don't mind the rain. It washes over me.

February 16, 2007  Say Uncle!

This morning, around 7:47, my sister Kelly gave birth to a 6 lb bundle of joy named Sofia. My brother in law must be a nervous wreck by now! Sofia is my parents first grandchild; I am a first time uncle, and I am so pleased I would jump up and down, if I wasn't currently sick with a persistant and virulent strain of sinus infection. Anyhow, God bless Sofia.

 January 27, 2007  Digital Photography 

I have taken a lot of pictures with my digital camera, experimenting with different settings and shutter speeds, and I am amazed with what it can do. I think back to my high school and college years when I spent hours in the darkroom trying to create a good print, sometimes being disappointed with the film negatives, and now it only takes me minutes to work out my problems.

Don't get me wrong, I think film should never go away, but digital is going to be predominant soon.

What I like about digital imaging is the immediacy of it, the fact that you know what the picture looks like seconds after taking it. I also think that it opens up a world of choices to the average person. An 8 year old kid can make movies. A person who does not have the resources to build a darkroom, or can't afford the film, chemicals, and enlarging equipment, can enjoy photography. A lot of experimentation can be performed both in the field with the camera and at home with Photoshop.

I think back to the 1890s when movies were born and photography was evolving into art rather than mere picture taking, and I think I know what those primitive pioneers felt at the dawn of the Twentieth Century.

December 17, 2006  Hate

Hate.

What I hear everyday from every one:

"I hate liars, I hate the truth, I hate cheaters, I hate losers, I hate winners, I hate aggression, I hate shyness, I hate whores, I hate prudes, I hate egos, I hate pretty, I hate ugly, I hate order, I hate contradiction, I hate the left, I hate the right, I hate up, I hate down, I hate law, I hate anarchy, I hate police, I hate crime, I hate long lines, I hate impatience, I hate wealth, I hate poverty, I hate stupidity, I hate intellectuals, I hate egotism, I hate leaders, I hate followers, I hate religion, I hate atheism, I hate apathy, I hate concern, I hate war, I hate peace, I hate violence, I hate murder, I hate boredom, I hate excitement, I hate pain, I hate pleasure, I hate them, I hate death, I hate life, I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate."

I am a human being, subject to the same ebb and flow as everyone else. The same conflicts, doubts, fears, and smiles.

I will try not to hate.

Because when you do, you end up hating yourself in the end.

Hate is a chain that must be broken, a bind that must not be tied, a path that should not be followed.

November 20, 2006  Digital Art

A century ago, Picasso and Braque embarked on their radical experiment in art: cubism. They transformed painting into a more modern and thought provoking form of communication. A person has to think when viewing those hundred year old works, which means they succeeded beyond their creators' wildest dreams.

The digital realm is now the new frontier. I love painting and classical forms of expression, but I think that, with the power the computer has over modern life, the future of art will be entwined with the future of the computer, just as cubism was partnered with the changes that the 20th Century brought to society. Photography captured reality, and so Picasso and Braque sought to use art as a way of viewing several perspectives at once, something that photography, with its one POV, cannot do. Their paintings were a way of capturing what the mind sees, not the naked eye.

I keep forgetting that we are a half decade into the 21st century. I have done thousands of digitally manipulated photos in the past seven years, more than I realized, and sorting through them is a daunting task. But it is dawning on me that the internet is the new neighborhood, computer graphics are the new cubism, and art and technology are so entwined now that they are becoming inseparable. The future of art will be somewhere in the realm of the computer, via digital imagery or virtual reality. Just as music and cinema are now engaged in the digital realm. Hopefully, though, we as a society will always have room for painters and sculptors and poets, and computers and fine arts can live side by side 

November 9, 2006  Seeking Balance

I have been feeling very balanced and better than I have not only in months but in years. It is almost as if the window was cleaned and I can see out of it now.

I have been stumbling around in the dark ever since I was let go by the ad agency. It was the best job I have ever had until now.

I was doing freelance illustration for them for a year and a half (outside of my blue collar, benefits filled day job), and I was very proud of what I accomplished there. The work we did won an international award. But even then, the fog of depression would rear its ugly head, and I didn't quite grasp how much it meant to me until the project dried up and I was let go. Instead of dusting myself off I focused on the negative.

Artists are ego driven creatures. I have yet to meet one who wasn't. I mean, what else drives an artist, other than to release his or her demons by painting or composing or writing in an attempt to reach others through personal expression? Why have an internet profile like this one (or a blog, website or forum) if it isn't an attempt to meet new people and express yourself? This is not only something artists and musicians want to do, it is something they NEED to do. But an artist's greatest asset is also the monster on his back. That leaves him vulnerable, probably more to himself than to others.

Artists want to connect with something inside themselves, while at the same time striking a chord in other people. For a while I was blocked there, and I sought release in ways that only shackled me. I kept everything bottled up (and tipped a few) until it affected my health and wellbeing.

The world is what you make of it and everything is inside your head. I let mine get filled up with so much crap I couldn't see straight.

November 4, 2006  Vincent Van Gone

I have had a warning sign this week that all is not right in my world. Death is waiting for you and It is not a lovely thing when you stare it in the eye. When you realize that you are not immortal and life is fleeting and you either learn to take care of yourself or destroy yourself. Actually it was a series of warnings that cumulated in a trip to the hospital emergency room.

For the longest time, I have not been taking the best care of myself. I have been drinking too much, sleeping too little, eating garbage or not eating at all, and running around here and there as if I am still twenty. I have also been working schedules that fluctuate from week to week throughout the years without much consistency and therefore I have developed irregular sleep patterns.

Not much of a stable ground to walk on, I assure you, and I have only added to the sinkhole that has been my life for a decade.

Years of this behavior caught up to me on Halloween Night when I had an anxiety attack.

The roots of this started a while back when summer began and I had more time off of work. I found myself unable to paint and draw and that frustrated me. I started drinking more alone at home, first a glass or two of wine, a couple of bourbon and cokes, cases of beer, bottles of vodka or Beam...you get the picture. All in an attempt to combat the mounting boredom and depression. I was trying to save myself by destroying myself, always an unwise move. And I created a personal problem for myself via my drinking that will take months to fix. All of this stuff was going on in my head but only in a semi-conscious or subliminal way.

Twelve days ago I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't sleep. I would lay in bed and watch the sun come up with a blanket over my head. Day two came and I slept three hours, day three I slept four hours, day five not at all, and so on and so on.

I was getting nervous about this. And a little angry. Because I was disturbed, I would eat little to nothing. And I killed two bottles of liquor in the course of two days (I was off of work and not driving) in an attempt to sleep but it still didn't work.

But I did not seek medical help.

I let it go for almost two weeks. People at work noticed that I was uptight a little, and that I was shaking a little, but no one brought this to my attention until after the fact. My temper was short and I was hypersensitive to everything. My mind was thinking and rethinking and analyzing and trying to solve problems that are months ahead of me. The Saturday before Halloween I went to eat at my favorite restaurant but I couldn't relax and I didn't even eat half of the meal. Again I was aware I wasn't doing well but I stubbornly insisted it would pass.

On Halloween I finished a mounting and demanding day at work, and at six o clock I started trolling the internet.

It began.

I started speed reading different sites and e-mailing people, and writing posts on a message board frantically and feverishly as if I was in the grip of an invisible hand. My hands were typing automatically as if my head was processing information faster than I was consciously aware of.

I was seeing random patterns in everything, the world was connected in a plot against me, words and ideas were becoming disassociated from all that I have known to be right and true.

Over the past several days I had minor tremors and impulses fluctuating randomly throughout my muscles, and now they were increasing, like blinking fireflies. Blood was rushing to my head and the veins in my hands were tight and noticible. I felt both sad and happy in an accelerated way, as if I was outside of myself and something else had taken over my brain. My neck was tense and I was tapping my foot nervously. I was typing automatically as if "speaking" in a strange and possessed tongue. My heart was racing as if it wished to remove itself from my body. My head felt like it was going to pop like the cork of a champagne bottle.

I knew something was wrong but I couldn't control myself until I finally started e-mailing a friend of mine. I think, in hindsight, that I was seeking help and wanted to find order from this madness I was trapped in. She rightly noticed that my e-mails were becoming increasingly erratic and disjointed. She convinced me to call her and as I vented for two hours I felt a little better but my heart was not slowing down. A registered nurse, she told me to go to the emergency room, and I did.

The doctor told me that my blood pressure was very high, so he held me and monitored me until it slowed to an acceptable level. He asked me several questions in an attempt to determine the roots of my problem. Definitely being told nine years ago that I had high blood pressure and doing nothing about it was a root problem. After I was released I went to my folks and slept thirteen hours straight.

The hospital set me up with a primary care physician close to my home who saw me a day later and gave me a physical. I was diagnosed with high blood pressure, anxiety and depression, and administered meds to even me out. I am awaiting the results of a blood test to determine if my thyroid is acting up. He said that he didn't think I was an alcoholic but that I was merely trying to medicate myself in an attempt to fight the mounting pain.

And it was painful. My head is still throbbing a little. It was also emotionally scary for family and friends of mine, and I apologize to them all for it. But I have to concentrate on undoing the damage I have done to myself so I must be selfish and realize that without my health there is nothing.

I have always wanted to know what it was like to be Vincent Van Gogh. He suffered from schizophrenia, manic depression, and other self induced diseases, and drank turpentine to fight the madness. Ultimately he killed himself at the age of thirty seven, the same age I am now. He spent years hearing voices and seeing visions and the result was an early grave. I would rather let go of the chaos and fix what is wrong.

I have had my one warning. Will I heed the call?

June 30, 2006  The Censorship has Sailed

I belong to a painting related MySpace Group in which the moderator had to pull down a mildly erotic painting of a naked woman with white hair. Somebody threatened to have the group shut down if he didn't pull the painting from the group's photo album.

It was a good painting, no more lascivious than any painting by Modigliani, Picasso, the Impressionists, Talouse-Latrec, etc.

What is this climate of righteous indignation in this country? We really have returned to the days of superstition, witch hunts and McCarthyisms. I don't trust any self proclaimed "Guardian of Morality" because they inevitably end up having closets full of skeletons. Because it is easier to tell others how to live than to change what is within yourself.

What are people trying to protect the young from: reality? SO they can grow up oddly sheltered and then be shocked and mortified when they find the world is more dangerous and complex than they were taught? I found that out the hard way, myself. The fantasy world we were exposed to in school, where history was skewed and you were told you could trust all your authority figures, was stretching it at best.

Everybody wants those OTHERS to be puritanical while THEY do or say whatever they want to. More of the "us vs. them" syndrome we are facing in these polarized and schizoid times.

I abhor censorship and I feel that hiding things from people doesn't protect them. It only makes forbidden fruit more tempting. When I was a child, rating a movie R meant an instant following of kids!!! And if my parents would have confiscated my comic books or destroyed them, I would have moved heaven and earth to find new copies. I think that if you are afraid of something it will control YOU.

Art and painting always moved forward historically when people challenged the status quo, and when people defied the conventional.

Whoever was offended by that painting had better never visit a museum, look at a book about art, view paintings by Renoir or Klimt or Modigliani or Dali (or artists from the entire history of painting for that matter) or a courthouse with naked statues....or come within ten feet of my presence. Go out and burn books while you are at it, loser.

Offended by my comment? I certainly hope so. I am offended by anybody whose sanctimonious, holier-than-thou presence would squash art. To me that is a gross violation of the intellectual freedoms this country was founded on.

May 11, 2006  Beheaded on the Auction Block

Our government is now starting to sell our nation's heritage away to the highest bidder. Because the Smithsonian is in desperate need of funds, they have sold first rights of OUR (as in you, me, all of us) archive of film footage to CBS and Showtime.

I guess our heritage is attached to whatever corporation has the largest amount of money.

The arts are in danger and continuing to deteriorate in America. Just another reason for us to vote all of these self serving politicians out and get new blood in Washington. I am tired of the status quo. They don't seem to represent the best interests of the American people as a whole, only the best interests of corporate America, and by extension, their own best interests.

Our arts remain our collective legacy. They, as much as any road or any law or any war, are what we bestow upon our descendants. Without them, without what they can teach to children and to future generations, our country will someday shrivel up and die. History will have no meaning because it will no longer be living and breathing. It will not remain a legacy for long.

It will be a mummified corpse put on display by corporate medicine men peddling their bitter swill. Our country is putting its head on the auction block and the big media conglomerates are swinging the axe. Someday our children will be picking up the pieces...

http://www.artsjournal.com/man/archives20060501.shtml#106332

April 18, 2006,  Resurrection

I may be doing more artwork for the public relations firm in the near future. I got word of the potential project as I was recovering the morning after my baby sister's wedding reception. I would love to resurrect my award winning work for them...

We were placed on hiatus a year and a half ago but I am aware that thet were relatively pleased with my work.

If only I could be a full time artist, but I have bills to pay and I work fulltime at a job that I barely tolerate so that I can devote free time to my art (when I am not tired.)

We must all balance what we want with what we get.

March 9, 2006, Cheese and Wine Making

I admire artisans of all kinds: sculptors, painters, poets, writers, carpenters, metal smiths, potters, chefs, and wine makers.

I am currently reading about people who brew their own beer and wine, and people who make their own cheese. I salute them in this day and age of computers and ever increasing numbers of people who aren't self reliant. I hope that people will continue to keep these valuable skills from fading into oblivion. I would love to brew my own booze and my own cheese.

And I would love to learn how to be creative with food as culinary skills are another form of art. I would like to be a more efficient cook but my current knowledge is mainly making spaghetti or grilling burgers or chicken. I can also use a can opener and a microwave...I guess that when you've spent years in bars you learn an appreciation for bar food that may interfere with life's more refined pleasures!!!

That is why I admire the Parisian cafe culture from the early years of the twentieth century. Those people really knew how to eat and drink, and it speaks to my Bohemian soul!!!

March 1, 2006, Morons Shouldn't Drink Martinis in Museums

The artists should be the drunks; not the patrons. Art lovers are a sophisticated crowd. Was it a black tie affair?

It appears the people were shaken, not stirred.

http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=404718

January 30, 2006, Oops, There Goes Another One

Hey everybody, more hilarity from the art world, which is usually not very funny at all:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11100282

January 5, 2006, Hipitty Hop Hop

I admire an artist who suffers for his work!!!  Visit the link below!!!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/10722740  

I hope he doesn't try to do a painting of Vincent Van Gogh or he will be lopping his ear off and sending it to a prostitute!!!

December 8, 2005, Remembering John, 25 Years Later

On December 8th, 1980, John Lennon was killed. I would rather celebrate his life than mourn his senseless death. I will always love his music, and I will keep my statement short and to the point,  just as John would have wanted.

October 22, 2005, Creativity 34

I recently learned that the project I did for the ad agency in 2004 won an international creativity award, and is to be featured in Creativity 34, published by Harper Collins. The book is an annual featuring examples of the best graphic design on the planet, and I am honored to have my work included in it!

September 5, 2005, Emergency Mismanagement

Failure is not an option when American lives hang in the balance in the wake of Katrina.

Republicans and Democrats be damned, people at all political levels (from local up to national) compete like dishonorable cutthroats (no better than the looters and roving snipers) for those positions of authority, and they better be able to do their JOBS when a crisis occurs.

These people want the positions and power so long as they can line their own pockets, but when such a massive failure occurs they start pointing fingers at each other. "Duhhhhhhh.....I don't know."

If they cannot serve the best interests of the American people, if they fall asleep at the wheel, if they don't know what they are doing, then they don't belong in charge. We ARE their boss...

No golden parachutes for them!! I'd like to fire all self-serving career politicians and put the power back into the hands of the citizens.

And politicians on both political sides seem to think that running the country is like owning a fast food company. They can downsize budgets and staff, and backpedal and doublespeak and cover their asses all they want, but for a change, we as a country are seeing them for what they truly are.

Can we supersize a competent leadership? Where's the beef? We are paying for it after all.

They've spent billions of our tax dollars to shore up emergency management since 9-11, arguing over windbreakers with matching logos, and if this is the best the Feds can do they should have just taken all that money and dumped it into the dank, dirty, diseased waters of flooded New Orleans, along with their reputations.

August 30, 2005, Katrina

The devastation of Hurricane Katrina is horrendous, and my heart, my prayers, and my hopes, go out to the men, women, and children who are trapped in the heart of this catastrophe.

And my sympathies to the families of the thousands who are dead and missing...

August 24, 2005, Vacation

This week I am on a well-deserved vacation.

I worked very hard the past three weeks and I am exhausted, both physically and mentally..

I regret that, thus far, I have done very little besides reading, playing video games, eating fast food, and drinking at local watering holes. I won three bids on e-bay, for stuff that I probably don't need.

I haven't created any art or visited any museums, worked on any projects, and I haven't done any profound thinking. I wrote two songs a few weeks ago but I haven't picked up my guitar for days.

I even blew off friends of mine last night and stayed at home because I was too lazy to leave my couch. I am a pure slacker this week.

I did spend some time walking on East Carson street, visiting bookstores, and generally taking in the vibe and the sights of Pittsburgh's South Side, but outside of that I have done absolutely nothing that is productive.

And I am completely happy with that. Or am I?

June 10, 2005, Image Appropriation

The Warhol Foundation is suing a company that does hand-painted reproductions of the work of famous dead artists, including Matisse, Picasso, and Warhol. The company, arts-studio.com, is based in the U.S. but its work is produced in Thailand by cheap laborers.

I find it ironic, considering that the bulk of Warhol's fame rests in his silk screened reproductions of other people's photographs. He copied magazine covers, publicity photos, movie star likenesses, cartoon characters, etc.

Warhol's work would have been impossible to create in today's nightmare jungle of copyrights...I am amazed that decades after artists die "foundations" and "corporations" get windfalls of money from their art, and hungrily embed their collective teeth in the legacies of the dead...

Are they protecting his legacy, or are they exploiting it? Not that I condone piracy of arts and letters (or factory slave labor), but sometimes the work becomes so far removed from its source that people think Walt Disney created the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Andersen. That Cinderella and Snow White and the Big Bad Wolf are the exclusive property of an entertainment conglomerate.

Or that Warhol designed the Campbell's Soup can.

Copyrights should extend for about at least fifty to at most seventy years after an artist's death and then enter the public domain. After I am gone and my work provides for any children I may have, I hope that my art is used by, or inspires, other creative acts. Ultimately most reasonable people will realize that a copy is a copy, and that a vinyl version of "The Scream" isn't the same as Munch's breathtaking work itself.

Actually, despite the reaction of the Foundation, I think Warhol would have chuckled at the idea of illicit copies of his work. It is merely the ultimate manifestation of his concept of mass produced art.

April 27, 2005, Restoration

I finally completed my latest project: a painting (see above), based on a century old, badly deteriorated photograph. I am very proud of it, even though I see flaws in the work.

However, I did my best!!!!

March 25, 2005, Time Keeps on Slipping

I am feeling OLD. I am 36 years ancient.

Time has become a raging torrent, moving ever forward, and I am wondering where the past disappeared to.  

It seems like yesterday when I was playing softball behind Westwood Elementary School, wearing a Darth Vader baseball jersey. I loved Marvel and DC Comics!! I loved Star Trek and Star Wars, Battlestar Galactica and Buck Rogers...CHIPS and Charlie's Angels, The Six Million Dollar Man and Planet of the Apes... 

I followed the Pirates and Steelers in the Seventies, when we were lucky to have world class champions!!!!

I loved riding my bike. I loved books.

I remember playing Pacman and Defender at Pizza Hut, and I remember my first crush (a blonde haired, blue eyed girl,,,,and I will not reveal her name even though I remember it, but suffice it to say, I was smitten with her!)  I remember disco and new wave. I remember roller skating. I remember MTV.

I remember movies from the seventies and eighties. I remember songs and TV shows.

But most of all I remember an awkward teenager with pimples and thick hair. He was a teenager who loved to draw because that was the only thing that got him any attention and respect from his peers. I miss that kid, and I wish I could go back in time and give him advice. It would have spared a great deal of heartache and pain.

But the rivers keep on flowing and the planet keeps on spinning....

February 23, 2005, In Love with Books

I have been reading quite a bit lately.

Oh, it isn't a recent phenomenon, but right now I am acutely aware of my eternal love for books. I am also dreadfully bored with television, and I am fed up with so-called "reality shows." I want to vomit every time I see a tabloid show with gossip about movie stars, teen pop sensations, and non-celebrities like Paris Hilton. I could care less about the lifestyles of the idle rich. I have met everyday working folks who exhibit quiet dignity and restraint while rich people in the entertainment industry tend to go to obnoxious and overindulgent extremes. But I digress!!!

I have four overworked bookcases in my apartment, and among them are plenty of nonfiction books about art, music, and popular culture. I have a pretty decent collection of vintage paperbacks. I also have old comic books and pulp magazines.

My nonfiction habits tend towards biographies of artists and painters, although when I was a child I loved reading about dinosaurs, astronomy, and the American Civil War. I also loved Curious George, Maurice Sendak's "Where the Wild Things Are," and Dr. Seuss when I was a kid.

When I was a teenager, my grandfather turned me on to Louis Lamour's westerns, as well as paperback heroes from his childhood: Doc Savage, the Shadow, Flash Gordon and the Lone Ranger. His reading habits fit in with my love for the old Marvel and DC super heroes, and I am grateful that he helped me step into the world of prose fiction (books without pictures!!!!).

I never outgrew science fiction, horror, pulp fiction, or fantasy, but I usually read older authors like Stephen King, Robert E. Howard, Issac Asimov, and Robert Heinlein to name a few.

Now I am drawn to the classics. I have recently fallen in love with the Sherlock Holmes stories of A. Conan Doyle, and I am in the process of reading "Treasure Island" by Robert Louis Stevenson. I hope to read Poe's "Tales of Mystery and Imagination," and H. Rider Haggard's adventure stories later on. And Dashell Hammett and Ian Fleming and so on and so on...

Poets I have read include Baudelaire, Byron, Voltaire, and Kerouac.

Last year I had a small taste of what it feels like to be published when a project I illustrated went to print. The agency I did art for sent me some complimentary copies of the finished work, and it is amazing how proud you feel when you see your creations in print. I eat and breathe visual art, but when I was a teenager I entertained the idea of writing a novel.

I am still entertained by books. I hope I never grow up.

December 21, 2004, FREE SPEECH

Once again, people in positions of authority are squashing free speech because they disagree with somebody....THIS IS AMERICA, PEOPLE. Not a Dictatorship.

If you don't agree, tune it out. But people have the right to express themselves. WHY IS THIS AN ISSUE??????

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/04355/429620.stm

December 9, 2004, Death From the Barrel of a Gun

On December 8th, 1980, John Lennon was killed by a hail of gunfire from Beatles' "fan" Mark David Chapman's Charter Arms revolver.

On December 8th, 2004, Guitarist Dimebag Darrell and three other people were murdered by a gun-wielding Pantera "fan" at a Ohio nightclub, before the gunman was himself justifiably killed by a police officer who responded to the scene.

When will the cycle of madness stop? Probably never. As long as small men with small minds exist, as long as people have the desire to destroy others because of that black hole in their own hearts and minds, violence will continue ad infinitum, ad absurdum.

Art and music are about creation and personal expression. Murderers do not create. They merely find a jealous rage that overtakes them because they are unable to create, and that disturbs them. They become dependent on the work of others. Murderers don't like it when they learn their heroes have feet of clay. When their idols "fail" them, they kill people who are true innovators, and they get their names in the papers...

Killers travel an easy road to fame. No constant practice, no living in tour buses for months at a time. Fame is found in a single heartbreaking, devastating instant.

John Lennon and Dimebag Darrell, rock and rollers separated by generations, both learned how to make a guitar speak, but in different ways. They were innovative, creative, and unique. And they (and other victims of violence) were human beings, with friends and families, and they all deserved better.

Hopefully their music will never be silenced. Maybe somebody will hear their music and pick up a guitar, instead of a gun...

December 5, 2004, A Quote from ArtNews Online:

"Today, deciding to paint figuratively or abstractly, artists and curators agree, is no longer considered a problem. 'My own sense is that it is now a false distinction,' says Robert Rosenblum, a professor at New York University and a curator at the Guggenheim. Rosenblum singles out Gerhard Richter, an artist who has oscillated between realism and abstraction since the mid-1980s, as having made that abundantly clear. 'The issue is why paint at all versus whether what you paint is representational or not,' adds Ferguson. 'If you are going to paint, paint what you want.' "

I agree with this.  There shouldn't be a distinction. I don't feel one form of art is more valid than another. It is all expression and a person should be free to paint what they want without having to explain themselves to others. But in my experience, the art critics and gallery owners have ambushed art to suit their own narrow minded needs. They try to peg an artist and force him or her into a certain mode. When that artist breaks free in an attempt at self exploration, critics usually cry foul.

My advice: ignore everybody and follow your own muse. There will always be at least one person out there who appreciates the work you do...even if its only your mom!

November 21, 2004, Creativity Unbound

Surrealism, Cubism, and Abstraction are currently my latest obsessions. When I was a child, I admired painters who could realistically portray what they saw (and I still do!)

That was because I could already draw realistically when I was eleven (in 1980!!!)

Now I find increasing interest in works that are strange and different. I am delving into my subconscious mind to find peace with myself, and I empathize with those artists who attempted to capture creativity in its pure, undiluted state. (I am a restless person and I need to find a happy medium; art allows me that neutrality I crave.)

Lately,  I have been looking at paintings by Dali, Miro, Picasso, Patrick Heron, and the American painter and science fiction illustrator Richard M. Powers. I find Powers to be inspirational because his work was eerie and uniquely his own, full of bulbous shapes, ghostly and grotesque distortions, and weird inhuman beings.

I equate him with Picasso, and as much as I love to draw realistically, my goal would be to create my own unique form of art, just as those other painters did. I want to capture my inner voice and paint things that represent my deepest thoughts and feelings.

I want to be as creative as I can possibly be. That is my greatest struggle and my highest aspiration.

October 30, 2004, Pittsburgh

I spent the past few days haunting various places in the city (the Strip District, Station Square, Homestead, Carson Street, Oakland, the Carnegie Museum) and I realized what a wonderful town this is. I never consciously think about it, having lived in this city my entire life (and having endured the daily ritual of employment) but now I realize there is much to see here. Pittsburgh is a wonderful melting pot, and it is full of great locally owned businesses (cafes, used bookstores, art galleries, ethnic food shops) and there is always something interesting to learn, for those who have open eyes and open minds.

Pittsburgh's greatest charm is that its inhabitants don't realize how wonderful a place it is, in spite of the failing economy and the city's mismanagement. We always look outside for help, and we always compare ourselves to other cities because we are unsure of what Pittsburgh's identity is supposed to be. I don't think that multinational, corporate owned businesses have the same charm as a mom and pop bagel shop, or a boutique that sells funky or vintage clothes, or a dusty comic book shop.

The music scene here is low key but interesting, and there are hundreds of great bands. There are several talented craftsmen, painters, sculptors, and writers here, and there is a history that permeates every building, and every person. Something interesting is always happening somewhere in town, if a person has the willpower to get away from the television set and venture out into the city and its surrounding areas.

When I was at the Carnegie, I heard a snobby tourist complaining that this "wasn't New York." Go back to New York, I say. I visited the Big Apple over a decade ago and enjoyed my visit, but I am still proud of my roots.

We have our own city.

October 9, 2004, When I'm Sixty-Four

Today is John Lennon's birthday. Had he lived, he would have been sixty-four years old. I celebrate the music he made, and I mourn the music that he could've made if he hadn't been murdered. However, I find comfort in the fact that his killer was, once again, denied parole by the state of New York.

September 22, 2004, Book Recommendation

I strongly recommend, for all artists who love to draw, "The Undressed Art," by Peter Steinhart. It explains my passion for the art of drawing in ways that I cannot. It was a joy to read, almost as much fun as a roll of paper and a stick of charcoal.

September 21, 2004, The Flood

I can thankfully say that I have escaped the widespread flooding of southwestern PA with all of my possessions safe and dry. Unfortunately, hundreds of thousands of others have seen their schools, their houses, their cars, and their priceless mementos irrevocably damaged. Some have lost their businesses. One person even lost his life.  

My folks had some minor water spillage in their basement but my dad took care of it before it had a chance to cause any major problems, armed with a water pump, a shop vac, and his usual steely determination. My sister's basement was completely flooded, and a huge sinkhole formed in her driveway. I only had to contend with an hour long drive home from work because of several washed out roads. Fortunately my apartment and neighborhood was spared.

But within 4 to 6 miles of where I live, people were paddling fishing boats in their front yards. I pray that they recover without too much heartache, and I am thankful that even more lives weren't lost. Property can be replaced, with the rare exception of photos and heirlooms. People are far more precious.

July 16, 2004, The Art of the Comic Book

I saw Spider-Man 2 a couple of weeks ago, and having enjoyed the movie, I've been remembering all of the great comic book artists, including Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, Neal Adams, Barry Smith, Curt Swan, Wally Wood, Bernie Wrightson, John Buscema, Robert Crumb, Will Eisner, etc.

I have also been analyzing their work lately (reading comic books!)

Comic book artists used to be looked down upon by commercial artists, who considered them hacks, and commercial artists were despised by fine artists, who considered them sell-outs. That may no longer be the case today, but a couple of decades ago it was the norm. Odd that there was a pecking order, considering ALL artists expect to be paid in some shape or form for their work.

I, however, do not make any distinctions between "fine art", "commercial art", "comic book art", and "lowbrow art." To me it is all ART, with a capital A. Talent is talent, and while comic book artists toiled in the trenches for low pay because they loved what they were doing, they were just as dedicated as the great painters and sculptors that society reveres today. They were an admirable breed who created a dynamic visual landscape that is as recognizable as Picasso's cubism and Pollock's abstract expressionism.

Jack Kirby was especially responsible for creating a unique and memorable style of drawing.

The pop artists, Warhol and Lichenstein, pilfered the work of comic book artists for their canvases, earning millions in the process, while the comic book artists struggled to pay their gas bills and rent.

And so I pay my respects to the art of the comic book. One more thing: two of the greatest film directors of the twentieth century, Fellini and Orson Welles, were comic book fans!

July 8, 2004, Brando

Thinking about Marlon Brando's death,  I am amazed that the press seemed to focus less on his accomplishments and more on his foibles, his eccentric behavior, and his offbeat political views. We as a society claim to admire individuals who are different and strong willed, but when people go against the grain we are disturbed or angered, and most of the reporters lamented that Brando didn't live up to his potential. As if they, who aren't actors, can put themselves in a position to judge a man of such considerable, overwhelming talent. I admired him because he was slightly weird. He marched to his own tribal drumbeat. I wouldn't mind being remembered only for "The Godfather," "The Wild Ones," and "On the Waterfront." He gave his best in those movies, and after that he lived his life as he chose to. Isn't that freedom?

June 18, 2004, Art of Creation

The Three Rivers Arts Festival will be over in three days and, as it has survived the dreadful winds and torrential downpours of a Pittsburgh June, I must express my joy at witnessing art surviving in the face of adversity. In this case it is a bout of terrible weather. But I consider it a metaphor for the place of art in the world at large. The planet is facing warfare, mass destruction and death, murder, terrorism, increasingly greedy corporations, and yet artists keep on plugging away, creating their works in the form of paintings, sculptures, crafts, etc. Any individual can create art, and creative pursuits are far more noble than the self destructive tendencies that mankind exhibits all too often. I wish more of our leaders were artists, or at least people with true hearts....not merely agendas.

The world is commanded by royalty, politicians and power brokers of every sort, but I believe that the true power in the world is quietly wielded by the artists. Our culture is what defines us and we in turn define IT, and the creativity of our artisans, musicians, and writers will be our lasting legacy. We as a people will be remembered for what we have created, just as the remnants of the ancient Greeks (ceramics, mythology, theater, Olympics) are studied with admiration centuries later. Hopefully, mankind will someday lose its hatred, fear, jealousy, greed, and hostility. It is a dream of mine.

June 1, 2004, Silent Films

My DVD player has become a very close friend these past few months, just as my family's VCR was a constant companion twenty years ago.

You see, I am addicted to movies. I love films, especially since I took photography years ago, and I realised what a complex art form it is. I like all kind of movies, including grade B science fiction movies, spaghetti westerns, horror films, comedies, and silent movies. My cinematic heroes are usually the directors. I admire Orson Welles, John Ford, Sergio Leone, Fellini, Stanley Kubrick, George Romero, Steven Spielberg, Tim Burton, and Quentin Tarantino, among countless others. I even admire Ed Wood, the infamous, crossdressing director of "Plan Nine from Outer Space," the most wretched movie ever made, but at least its director had a lot of heart and enthusiasm. I cannot fault him for that. And Mystery Science Theater 3000 has made even the worst films bearable by making fun of them, much as my friends and I did in our college years, sitting at the drive-in with a case of beer!

However, if I had to pick an absolute hero, it would have to be Charlie Chaplin, the silent film comedian and director. He was a master of comic timing, direction, and pathos, and I can watch his movies today and be amused by them. In this day of digitally created films, there are many admirable traits to be found in the silent films. Movies were young back then, and people were only learning what to do, much in the way computers are relatively new today. I wish current movie makers were less concerned with wowing us with over-the-top stunts and effects, and more concerned with the human drama, and the art that is inherent in filmmaking.

Although I think "Lord of the Rings" struck a balance between the two. It deserved the Oscars it received.

May 29, 2004, Memorial Day?

A grave disservice has been done to all those who fought and died during WW II. They waged war against the very forces of fascism, censorship, and tyranny that sought to destroy our nation sixty years ago.

Those threats were from the outside. Today, while we have many foreign born dangers against us, one of the worst that we face is corruption from within: a danger posed to us by native born "thought police," and a slap in the face to our ancestors and relatives who died defending freedom.

Recently, a gallery owner in San Francisco was physically attacked for showing a single painting depicting the prisoner abuse at Abu Ghraib. A painting that depicts REALITY...and not in a gratuitous way but a straightforward way. It is no more upsetting than the news reports and photos that we have seen. In fact, I would say it is less offensive than the photographs themselves. It is a valid expression of the events, much in the same way "Guernica," a painting by Picasso, was a valid expression of another tragedy. Guernica was a small Spanish town bombed by the Nazis in April of 1937 with the support of Spanish fascists, and over a thousand innocent men, women, and children were killed or injured. And now a gallery owner has been physically harmed by fascists as well.

Not only that, but she has also been subjected to multiple threatening phone messages, and mental abuse as well. Due to concerns for her safety, as well as that of her children, she was forced to close her gallery.

Imagine that? In this day and age, a person living the American dream of running her own business was forced by fellow Americans, through intimidation, vandalism, and thinly veiled threats, to forsake her own dreams in order to protect her kids.....This is not patriotism. In fact, it is simply Unamerican...and a slap in the face to those who died during World War II..... those who we celebrate this Memorial Day.

The Nazis performed these kinds of tactics, Stalin performed these tactics, and Saddam Hussein and a million other petty dictators have also done these reprehensible things. Now fellow Americans are doing this, and I am ashamed. It is a smear on the flag of our nation, and the very heart of America has been pierced by these idiots. Aren't we supposedly in Iraq to liberate its people from this sort of barbaric behavior?

Great art is a personal expression of ideas. Artists are driven to express those ideas. America was founded on revolutionary, daring, and explosive IDEAS. That is why we mustn't be afraid of ideas, even ones we don't agree with. A true artist always has an open eye......shouldn't a true American have one too?

Once you start being afraid of ideas, you lash out at those ideas. Then you become threatened by the people who have formed those ideas, and you lash out at them as well. Then you suppress ideas, which leads to book burning and lynching, and freedom itself is threatened. We are our own worst enemy.

May 6, 2004, Boy With a Pipe

Picasso's painting, "Boy with a Pipe," one of the pictures from his young rose period, sold yesterday for 104 million dollars. The concept of fixing a price to artwork is almost foreign to me, but his painting is worth every cent, as it is one of his most beautiful, accessible works. It is still a haunting image, a century later. Picasso lived until 1973, when I was four years old. His life ran parallel with the twentieth century. It is good to see that his art is still respected in the twenty-first century!

May 5, 2004, Idea Overload

My mind is pounding from a self-induced headache.....I am overflowing with ideas. I hate narrowing them down because I know that the thoughts in my head will never match what I put down on paper!! I have thoughts about books I'd like to write, paintings I would like to paint, and businesses I'd like to run. I wish I could build an arts workshop/cafe, a place where I could serve coffee and teach art and allow people to be creative....I'd love to teach them the skills that I sometimes lack!!!!

I'd also like to create children's books, much like Dr. Seuss or Edward Gorey or Maurice Sendak, with unbridled creativity and enthusiasm, books that would foster young minds and help them appreciate art, and help them develop a lifelong interest in the arts. Having no kids of my own, I would like to leave behind a legacy. I wish that all children could have the wonderful childhood I had. I drew pictures for hours, and I poured over all forms of art with passion and enthusiasm!  Approaching middle age, I realize there aren't enough hours in the day to do all that I wish. Maybe someday, I will have children, and they will get to do all the things that I couldn't find the time to do.

Or maybe they will follow their own muse.

April 28, 2004, My So-Called Life as an Artist

Today I found a vague reason to leave work early. I am almost finished with a design project for my latest employer. I am proud of the work I have done so far. It's some of my best, but I couldn't draw well today. My muse disappeared. She does that from time to time. Tomorrow I will pick back up where I left off. Hopefully I will be relaxed and refreshed.

Sometimes an artist has to back away, divert his attention from his art, and take a deep breath.

April 9, 2004, Censorship

There is a growing movement among the moral guardians of this country (ie: the FCC) to clean up our airwaves and save the minds of our children from filth and "evil", and make the world safe for democracy. As if quieting free speech is a form of democracy. "Wardrobe malfunction", "shock jocks", etc. are in the papers everyday. Frankly, I disagree with censorship in all of its insidious forms and functions. It doesn't work, never did, and it only forces the views of one group onto several others. It sows more disquiet and unrest. And when ideas are hidden or squashed it makes forbidden fruit even more tempting. It also leads to fascism and dictatorships, where one entity controls everything....like Saddam Hussein....

I love America precisely because of its freedoms and its debates. America was built on political incorrectness...remember the Boston Tea-Party, or the sexual peccadilloes of many of our historic, legendary, politicians....I guess we prefer our skeletons in the closet rather than out in the open, and honest in the sight of God. They are easier to commit when they are in the shadows, where we as a people prefer them to be.

We are more angered by an exposed breast than we are by the outsourcing of American jobs. We don't want the United Nations involved in our decisions to plunge the world into war, but its ok if a minority of wealthy businessmen let foreign nations undermine the American workforce by allowing foreigners to do our work at low wages while American citizens go unemployed. Especially in this day of golden parachutes for our CEOs. They have all the protections that they seek to deny the little guy who works for them.

Still, that is freedom at work, and while I am entitled to my opinions, so are people who disagree with me. That is the magic of America!

Everybody thinks there was a golden age in America that we, of holy faith, must harken back to: one of Mom, Apple Pie, birds chirping, with no poverty and violence, with the ultimate faith in God's church (which God, which denomination?)... a utopia that never existed and we haven't fallen from, if people remember America's bloody history. Or the Big Bang or biblical history from the Garden of Eden on down: a world that was never peaceful. Doing good is one thing, being a do-gooder is something else.

Prohibition of booze didn't work, it only led to violence and organized crime...prohibition of ideas is worse.

Frankly, we claim we are in Iraq to bring democracy to its people, and right now there is an attempt in the U.S. to squash free speech, and all of this seems the height of hypocrisy to me.

My primary childhood lessons were imparted by my parents. I learned morality from them, and they gave me my sense of right and wrong. I took it from there. I think far too many people are now relying on institutions (schools and governments and ideologies, with little or no personal or parental involvement) to raise their children...and enforce morality. These systems only work when free individuals are responsible for their destinies, or their children's. If you don't like what you are hearing or seeing, turn it off. If you don't like this website and the opinions I express, click to another site.

But don't destroy things you don't understand out of fear and anger. Others may not find your views as tolerable.

April 5, 2004, Kurt Cobain

Ten years ago, Kurt Cobain killed himself. I was saddened by this event a decade ago, because his music spoke to me in many ways. I admired Nirvana because they brought some poetry and relevancy back to rock music, and I empathized with Cobain because I also felt out of place with the world around me. I felt like a stranger even among my peers. And knowing that another artist was feeling the same alienation and the same fear made me strong.

After he committed suicide, I realized that I was stronger still. And now, I can listen to his music without sadness. I am older and wiser, but it is a shame that he died before he could fully grow. He wanted to be a painter, and to write more melodic music. Today, I both paint and write songs. I hope to honor Cobain for his genius just by fostering my own abilities.

February 24, 2004, Art and Technology

Two months into 2004, and I am thinking about the state of the art world in this relatively new century. While digital technology has improved by leaps and bound, mankind hasn't changed much in the past several centuries, as far as I am concerned.

Humanity has one common thread running through its existence: the desire to grow, evolve, and become greater than it is despite itself. I see parallels between the innovations of the Renaissance, the development of photography and cubism, and the creation of the world wide web and digital imaging.

In many ways, these movements all challenged mankind's perceptions. They forced people to look at the world in a different way.

The Renaissance put three dimensional perspective into a two dimensional canvas and simulated reality and human vision. Photography captured reality by burning a split second of it onto film, freezing it forever, and cubism added a fourth dimension to the canvas by creating its own sense of pictorial reality and distorting not only space but time as well, capturing all of these things simultaneously.

The parallel developments of digital imagery and the Internet have confronted those perceptions by adding one more element: interactivity. The viewer is now participating in the art itself rather than looking at it and thinking about it, and virtual reality brings the participant inside of the canvas itself. The viewer is actually a part of the art work by wearing VR goggles, or clicking on links and manipulating computer programming. And digital imaging can distort and abstract reality in ways far more drastic than Picasso, Dali, and DeKooning could have ever imagined. Fractals are the current abstract expressionism and Photoshop filters twist family snapshots into surrealist imagery.

Those historical developments pointed the way to the future. And the future is now.

February 10, 2004, Birthday!

As of today I am thirty five years old.

I feel it. The passage of three and a half decades is crashing over me like a tidal wave, but at least I can say that I have had an interesting life,  AND I have met some interesting people in my time. I haven't met my soul mate (if she even exists....) but by the same token I have complete freedom in my life and I'm pleased with that.

I have to balance occasional bouts of loneliness with the realization that I owe nothing to anybody, and I am proud of myself. I have talents and smarts, and I have put them to capable use. I have many interests and things to learn, and I will spend the rest of my life in a quest for knowledge and self-realization.

Here's to an old Chinese curse, which may apply to the next 35 years: "May you live in interesting times."

February 7, 2004, The Beatles Forever

Forty years ago, the Beatles set foot on American shores, bringing their music here, along with a cultural invasion that changed rock and roll, made it innovative and confrontational, and their music still resonates today. I heard traces of their music in much of the alternative rock of the 90s if only in the musical desire to change the world. The fab four broke up in 1969, the year I was born, but the enduring popularity of the Beatles has ensured that they will be around forever, in the same way that Beethoven's music is timeless.

I fell in love with their music in 1987, during the 20th anniversary of Sgt. Pepper, because I was 18 and had just started working, and I had some disposable income. So I went out and bought some cassettes of their music. (Remember cassettes? And LPs? I do.) Here I discovered complete albums where every song was good! I was accustomed, as a child of the post punk, MTV eighties, to the one-hit-wonders bands ( Flock of Seagulls, etc.) Those people were mostly style without substance, and whole albums would have one good song and ten throwaways...not so with the Beatles, who were both talented AND stylish.

They created a body of work that encompassed rock, rhythm and blues, folk, baroque, and pop (for they were usually accessible to the average person.)

I admire their creativity, energy, humor, style, and audacity. They were at the top of their game, and the world would have been much more boring without John, Paul, George, and Ringo.  

By the way, some of my favorite records are the bootlegs, such as unreleased acoustic and electric demos, live performances, and even a few unofficial songs. Contrary to a common belief, the Beatles were very skilled musicians, not just popular ones. If you ever get the chance to hear some of their acoustic White Album demos, you'll realize that the Beatles anticipated MTV Unplugged by decades. And pick up Let it Be-Naked. The Beatles sound better than ever!

January 28, 2004, Quicksand

I haven't seen a particular someone for quite some time now.

I miss her terribly, and frankly, it hurts. I'm going to Ft. Lauderdale tonight, and she will be on my mind the entire flight.....something to think about.  Sometimes I wish I didn't care about other people, that I was selfish and anti-social, but despite my age, I am learning that feelings are a good thing, even if they hurt. Lately I have felt pain, even though artistically, this is the best time in my life. I cannot dispose of my feelings. They are there forever, an ever-present weight.

I have struggled with the reality that you can be as kind as you wish, you can be devoted, heartfelt and honest, and concerned, respectful and loving, and sometimes you just cannot make a damned dent in someone's heart, or in the world around you. Lofty words of praise hold no meaning. Try as you will, you make little to no difference. I am sure that these were not the intentions of people who have hurt me (past, present, future...) but the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Most people have short term memories. Some just don't care.

I have learned that the world runs opposite to what I was taught in my childhood, if only because of my experiences. They have taught me that, all too often, people suffer from tunnel vision, embroiled in their own needs and desires, with no concern for others, no concern for the future, and that is what I truly see as the biggest problem in the world. It seems most people find pleasure in aggression, degradation, selfishness, and power, and not in the nobler pursuits and emotions.

Not to say that I am an angel....I have hurt people in my lifetime as well, but never intentionally, and I have sacrificed much more for others than they have for me, with the exception of my family, who has always been there for me. My conscience runs deep, and it sometimes bleeds. And here I am, thinking of myself. We humans are limited creatures.

Sometimes I am brave and my mind entertains daring, forward thoughts....but other times I am conservative, and I am afraid to reveal my feelings to others. This moment is an exception. I always find middle ground, and it is very lonely here. I wish I was an extremist.

I never forget events in my life. They are vivid in the reaches of my brain. My memory benefits me artistically, but emotionally it is the wellspring from which my pain flows. I let go of things on a superficial level, but spiritually, all of the things that have caused me pleasure and pain remain with me.

And happiness is fleeting. Sometimes life is just there. We humans are limited, as I have said, but we also thrive when we overcome obstacles and turmoil. We crawl out of quicksand each day, only to be submerged in it the next. This is our curse, and our blessing.

October 26, 2003, Gotta Wear Shades

Great News!!! I went in for a job interview five days ago, and I have been hired by a respected media firm to do artwork for a major account holder!!! It sounds like a great project and I am looking forward to applying my talents to it. One more experience to add to a lifetime of varying interests!!!

I have been away from this site for a while because I simply had very little to say. (Who, me?) It seems that my professional life is improving a great deal!!! When life gets me down I always delve into my art in an attempt to improve myself. I guess my art is my life. They do not imitate each other because they are interchangeable for me. Art equals life, life equals art.....

July 28, 2003, Naturally

I had met someone in May who became very important to me. I cared about her from the moment I met her, and we seemed to have a wonderful bond, an almost non verbal form of communication, and a great deal in common. We talked to each other every day, hit it off very well, and developed an intense and grudging mutual respect. I felt a true and rare connection. Then, a little more than a month ago, she cut off all communication with me.

Naturally, it makes a great deal of sense to me.

I hope I hear from her again.

May 15, 2003, Impressionism

I have just returned from the Frick Art Museum in Point Breeze, and I have come to understand how far I have to go to become an "artist." I have yet to live up to my New Year's resolution, although I have completed some portraits and a new song, as well as having some basic ideas for paintings.

But witnessing the impressive art show at the Frick, I could only feel humbled when viewing works by Corot, Cassatt, Monet, Van Gogh, Picasso, Corbet, Cezanne, and many others. It was a fabulous showing of Impressionist paintings from France at the turn of the century, and my jaw dropped when I stared at these works, with their vibrant colors, and exquisite brush strokes. I  have a long way to go. My stomach turns when I realize that, at 34 years of age, I have squandered my youth on drinking and parties and nightclubs, when I could have been creating artworks at a feverish rate. I hope in a century, someone looks at my work with awe, but I don't have enough of it yet. I hope I can still create my legacy before my time runs out.

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