Tired, but pushing on anyway; damned financial aid!!!
Mood:  caffeinated
Topic: art
Art goes well; art history... Oh, well, it's the "language of art".

I'm trying to finish out my associates degree, so i'm taking all
of these courses see. And of course, i'm still writing for the paper
-- despite all of the hacking they do to my treasured copy. (Egad,
what do you mean i split an infinitive by accident! I split them
with great care!!!! ;)

Right now, i'm exploring pure compositions, mainly the interplay
between the organic and the geometric. For example, how abstract
can i make a duck and still have it look duck-like. I'm sure you
see the importance of this particular topic; esp to my own art
work.

Got up here early today, since i was supposed to turn in my story
on Monday (it's now tue). but of course these theatre people have
what we call "day jobs", hence they aren't here until the night. So,
you see the prob. The thing is that i go by the newsroom, and it
seems like no one is ever there. Mostly we (ahem) artistes are here
from 8am to 10pm, 7 days a week -- or at least ways when our day
job doesn't interfere. (Would that i could get some more hourse,
right now, i'm limited to 9-1/2 hours a week (work study, as a
"gallary assistant" (read that as glorified janitor, postal card stamper,
and table cleaner)...

But, on a more postive note, i'm beginning (once again) to think that
i'm getting the hang of painting. Thank Zarquon's Flying Fish that
my printwork is still strong. Actually *that* is going quite well, but
it's hard to get time on the press. (The art dept suffers from its
own success we have more students now who are interested in
doing print work -- of course we have to baby sit them, and of
course some of them are *real* prima donnas. "Don't you know
that i graduated magna cum lauda at my prep school in art???"
-- 'course that don't mean shit if they don't know the basics
of print-room ettiquite ?sp? Oh, well.

Anyway, i'll try to post some more of my art work on my web site
(along with newest blogging and whine-ing's)...

https://www.angelfire.com/art2/pizo/images/pizo/index.html

Note one of the prints has a nice fine OIL stain on it! Often the case,
people put up their work on the drying shelves (after taking it off
of the drying line), and lo! it's not dry!!!!! The idea is that it's a
2-stage process. Oh, don't get me started.

I think that you should know that i'm feeling particularly depressed,
as Marvin would say.

Whoo hoo, only about 2 months to h2g2!

Well, got to go off and "man" the Amnesty International Table over
in the S building. (back to my Hippy roots!) now if only i could
get some lucrative commisions (sighs slightly, gets up and hobbles
over to S building -- carefully avoiding any non-existent loads of
horse hockey).

--42--

Hunter S. Thompson b;lows his brains out, Arthur Miller dies
Mood:  crushed out
Topic: art
This will be a difficult post to understand. (bear with me here)

When someone told me at school that he had committed suicide,
i said YES! If i were he, then that would be the way that i would
want to go. The world (especially now that we are faced with
FOUR MORE YEARS of George Wanker Bush) is a sad, dreary
and depressing place. That we can go on, never ceases to amaze me.
But, to let the good doctor put it in his own words:

(preface to "The Great Shark Hunt" (Gonzo Papers, Vol. 1;
note: ALL elipses "..." are in the original, the text is un-edited)

============================================

Well ... yes, and here we go again.
But befor you get to The Work, as it were, I want to make sure
I know how to cope with this elegant typewriter -- (and yes, it
appears that I do) -- so why not make this quick list of my life's
work and then get the hell otu of town on the 11:05 to Denver?
Indeed. Why not?

But for just a moment I'd like to say, for the permanent record,
that it is a very strange feeling to be a 40-year-old American
writer in this century and sitting alone in this hugh building on
Fifth Avenue in New York at one o'clock in the morning on the night
before Christmas Eve, 2000 miles from home, and compiling a table
of contents for a book of my own Collected Works in an office with a
tall glass door that leads out onto a big terrace looking down on
The Plaza Fountain.

Very strange.

I feel like I might as well be sitting up here carving the words
for my own tombstone ... and when I finish, the only fitting exit
will be right straight off this fucking terrace and into The Fountain,
28 stories belown and at least 200 yards out in the air and across
Fifth Avenue.

Nobody could follow and act like that.

Not even me ... and in fact the only way I can deal with this eerie
situation at all is to make a conscious decision that I have already
lived and finished the life I planned to live -- (13 years longer, in
fact) -- anbd everything from now on will be A New Life, a different
thing, a gig that ends tonight and starts tomorrow morning.

So if I decided to leap for The Fountain when I finish this memo,
I want to make one thing perfectly clear -- I would genuinely love
to make that leap, and if I don't I will always consider it a mistake
and a failed opportunity, one of the very few serious mistakes of
my First Life that is now ending.

But what the hell? I probably won't do it (for all the wrong reasons),
and I'll probably finish this table of contents and go home for Christmas
and then have to live for 100 or more years with all this goddamn
gibberish I'm lashing together.

But, Jesus, it would be a wonderful way to go out ... and if I do
you bastards are going to owe me a king-hell 44-gun salutr (that
word is "salute", goddammit --- and I guess I can't work this
elegant typewriter as well as I thought I could) ...

But you know I *could*, if I had just a little bit more time.

Right?

Yes.


(signature, in *that* style)

HST #1, R.I.P.
12/23/77


===========================================

-- now, if you'll all excuse me, i have to stop by the liquor store and
get enough vodka to "blow my brains out". Shit, does any of this
get any better?

(and of course, Arthur Miller dies as well!)

-- Richard

waiting for the monies
Mood:  crushed out
Topic: Life goes on...
So, of course my family has pretty much written me
off (except my kids; of course, it prob gets a
little "down" defending their crazy artist dad).

So, here i am basically selling my art work for
$5 and $10 just to put gas in the car -- by far,
the major expense these days, and a bit of food,
etc. (I *do* dream of food often!)

So, they are futzing around with my loan money,
in the mean time getting drop-ed from my classes,
but then they put some of them back in (since i
get a county grant of $400 for classes, which paid
for 4 classes; thank goodness i have residence!!!!!)

So, now, they are supposedly "working on it", and
to stop by in the morning.

It gets pretty depressing when everyone else can
go out to dinner, etc and i have to make up some
excuse not to go. (Jorge and Arthur will often
loan me money or buy my way so that I can join
in).

really, though the temptation to (at least partly)
sell out is *really* intense. I know several of
my works that sell. And of course, colour always
sells, and then of course, you simply can't go
wrong with LANDSCAPES -- at which, admittedly
i have a good eye for. The thing is, that a nice
colour-ful landscape (even, if it is a bit
abstract



ok, ok, my stuff *is* a bit more un-minimal than
that, but still. It's not like i have to really
think about it that much, i think i set up the
basic composition for those things in about an
hour or two, and then simply print until the paper
runs out.

Still downhill ...
Mood:  irritated
Topic: Life goes on...
So, still trying to figure out where to go for
graduate school in art. Here are the local schools
and various drivel that i've gathered about each:

UNT (my old alma matter) located in now much more
prosperous Denton Tx (at the top of the equilateral
triangle above Dallas and Fort Worth; refered to
as the GOLDEN TRIANGLE (but mostly by people in
Denton or there-abouts). Medium cost in tution
(always a consideration), excellent facilities,
but due to its popularity (as a state school)
becomeing more and more over-crowded. Also, hearing
tales that it's become-ing more and more
competitive -- pretty much of how i think that
art *should* work; ie, i believe in a (the)
"community of artists" instead of the competitive
model.

UTD -- THE University of Texas at Dallas (again
a state school, and thus lower tution). Only thing
is that (for some reason) they tend to be of
a more intellectual bent (mainly (possibly) because
the university started out being a think tank
for NASA and Texas Instruments (IC chip manufacturer)
back in the 1970's. So, as such there isn't much
push for the arts there. Actually, there is a
small group that is v. good, as well as an
out-standing theatre dept, but with the pressure
to *intellectualise* art (all the trend these
days).

I mean for the most part, art as some sort of
heavy intellectual pursuit doesn't make too much
sense. Most of what we do as artists (in the large
sense -- including visual arts, film, theatre,
music, dance, history, rhetoric, etc) has little
to do with deductive reasoning, and more to do
with emotion (left or right part of the brain
-- i forget which is which, but then that's why
i'm an artist ;)

UD (University of Dallas) -- private, catholic
school. It used to be that "catholic" meant open
minded, motivated to learn, educated, etc. Of
course these days with the murder of abortion
clinic doctors, condemnation of various kinds of
behaviour (gay marriage, women priests, and etc)...
Here i'd show up and pretty much (being the
secular humanist, athiest (spiritual atheist or
at the very least aesthetic atheist), hell they'd
probably think that the acutal anti-christ had
shown up. (And i was thinking of working on
the news paper, hmmm. liberal tree-hugging
secular/scientific/artist hippy wants to write
for OUR paper??????). Also, v. high dollar, but
supposedly lots of grant/scholarship money -- hmm,
"Wasp in spaaaace" -- hardly a protestant these
days!

TCU (Texas Christian University) WASP's answer to
UD -- no thanks. (Actually, i don't think that
they even offer an art degree!!! -- hmmm, (looks
at back of left wrist to "check time") this IS
the 21st century isn't it?

Various other 4-year schools that don't offer
a grad degree. Hmmmm.

Perhaps i should look at getting a "day job"
teachng or such and then BY NIGHT -- A secret
artist known as "THE RVIL DR. T".

And on the personal notes section.

Still no word on the status of the van; ie, my
sister hasn't gotten around to actually come-ing
to get it.

Still waiting on the loan money: "Funds will be
dispersed no earlier than 10 days before the
first day of class" (that would have January
7th (only people who believe in the tooth fairy
would believe that!). Then of course the word
was money would be here Feb. 2 (ie, 02/02/05) --
only people who believe that you can *actually*
make money stuffing envelopes or being a highly
in-demmand medical transcriptionist went for
that one. And now, the date is FEBRUARY 17.
Plasuible, a full, solid complete MONTH after the
first day of classes (Jan 17th was actually a
holiday to Honor the memory of Dr. King (i tip
my towel three times in the general direction
of Atlanta).

So, *still* eating raman noodle soup plus tomato/
veg soup added in. (Although i splurged today and
bought a $1 Wendy's tx double cheeseburger (sans
fromage, mit der axtrah onions and lettuce).

So my mom (in the last phone call) sez: Well let
someone else pay for your canvaases!!!! (like
that's my major expense!) Nice to be loved, huh?

--onward, into the void!

Onward the arts!!!
Mood:  energetic
Topic: art
Well, after my last critique (which went pretty well)...

And yes, I do tend to *still* keep painting as
if i'm drawing a cartoon. That is, although there
might be over-all compositions that tend to fill
the entire canvas (more often than not, simply
brown craft paper, gessoed, than an actual $$$
canvas -- these days). I still tend to keep drawing
things on there as if i were working with an
8-1/2 x 11 (inches; about A4 size metric) paper.

So, taking a page from professor Lewis's book
(actually that's Wyndham Lewis the "creator" of
VORTICISM -- actually what happened is that he
got tired of frood Roger Fry's "neo-impressionsiam"
(and the fact that it was still being dominated
by all of the fab new movements on the mainland
-- ie, Europe; eg, de stijl (netherlands), cubism
(france/spain), futurism (italy), etc, etc, etc....

So, wayward Wyndham breaks off with Fry and
starts the "Rebel Art Centre" and soon a whole
new movement starts

(will down-load soon)


So, that's what i did: Actually i "almost always"
start there -- yuh see, it's what we artist types
calls a COLOR WHEEL (lots of errie music in the
background, and some psychodelic color changes,
black-and-white-negative effects, etc).

So, anyway, at least i'm getting larger strokes
in and can still work small (the center). Hmmm,
let's see where my notes on manerism are.... ;)

Anyway, this fits in nicely with the "circle"
minimum stuff that i've been doing. Sort of
stalled out (not for lack of ideas, but the
usual lack of FUNDS; oh yes, they sed the monies
would be here on the second (05/02/02), so anyway
Jessica (photo frood) and i went over to confront
the drones at the financial aid (she playing "good"
cop, and i (sans coat, and derbie -- quite cold
out, drawing myself up to my full height (david r.
is a pretty hefty black guy), me: already to play
"bad cop" WHY DON'T you answer the lady???!!!
-- fortunately he was v. appologetic saying that
they were trying to get EVERYTHING out at the same
time -- which (if) that's treu would be nice, since
otherwise you have to stop by almost every day to
see if your name has been processed yet. So, we'll
see, we'll see...

meanwhile at the topic: the new circular stuff
is (at last) going over well with Don. (i think
that since what i'm doing is *so* minimal -- with
just a tad of texture (in keeping with my concept
of "Up from Minimalism") -- that it's *finally*
starting to catch on.

Also, on the subject of "selling out" (did you
miss the seque? that's because there wasn't one).
I figure i need to print some stuff specifcally
to sell. Yes, i know, i know. But, then it would
be nice to have some money for a change (no pun
inended). Of course, i need to get paper first...
Hmmm, maybe Nikki will loan me some on credit?
(other thoughts sensored for "security" reasons)

Finally: Saw part of Bush's speech the other night
(state of the onion) Sheesh, what a bunch of
propaganda.

He was half saying stuf "to the american people"
(trying to tell them what a great people we are
and how we're doing what is right, and oh, yes,
by the way don't be expecting to bring our troops
home any time soon!!!!),

and half talking to "our enemies" -- no telling who
he was talking to, all sounded pretty vague. It
almost sounded like he was *threatening* our
supposed allies that if they didn't back us up,
then we'd be pretty upset.

It also sounded like he's indicating that IRAN is next on our hit list.

I don't know if you saw the article, but back in
late December, on the day when Colin Powel was
announcing his formally leaving the white-house,
he said that there was evidence that IRAN was
developing a nuclear weapons delivery system.
and that (almost an exact quote here) you don't
develop a delivery system unless you have plans to
develop a nuclear weapons program. Sheesh, it's
all set up, and of course by having Powel
(an out-going staff memember, trading on his
authority of office) saying that, it gives the idea
that even people OUTSIDE the white-house approve
of such a move. This is both the "spread the blame"
as well as "showing" that there is wide support
of these policies in the "political community" --
all pretty much smoke and mirrors.

And of course, i notice that bush didn't really
offer any idea of what to do about the economy!!
more of the same old stuff.

Does it ever get better? here it is that we've
upset *so* much of the world community by our
wholy rogue actions in Iraq (i mean we could have
certainly tried more diplomatic channels before
pulling out the guns, but no we have to go in all
hot and heavy -- without any *real* support --
mainly by countries that hoped to get some of
the spoils of war (nothing new there since the
1800's!!!). And now of course we have it in us
to the be "policeman" of the world -- all we need
now is our old favorite enemy The Soviet Union.
And of course, when you think about it China is
more of a threat (to say nothing of the constant
killing going on between the vendetta-driven
Al-Quidists and Zionists!!!), so on it goes.

Hell ---->
Handbasket (with earth included) heading --->

Zounds, where have i seen *this* movie trailer
before????

later froodz,
must get over to print-making soon.
-- Pizo

The battle for the van -- ends.
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: Life goes on...
Well, been a while (as one frood noted). Anyway,
my parents were going to get a SUV (yes, mediocrity
has crept into their mediocre lives... er, ahm,
i guess it's just more of the same old middle crass
mediocrity that i remember so horridly).

So, (why they are getting a new SUV when their
van is doing so well, is beyond me -- see speculations) they have gotten the SUV -- no
details yet.

And of course, me thinks, hmmm (me) i *could*
use the old van. Hell, i could LIVE in it --
or at least camp out. Always do *really* miss
my old Dodge slant-six fan, which i even went
so far as to insullate with fiber-glass "wool"
and some remanent carpeting, to make it nice
and cozy. (last time i went "camping" was in
the back yard, during an ice storm, did the
whole thing -- rain fly, and the vinyl tarp
to pad the ground with -- had-n't slept that
well in YEARS -- always love camping, even
though the birds and such make sure that you
wake up at dawn. ahhhh,

alas, i digress (imagine that ;)

So, turns out that my sister (yes, THE DOCTOR!!!!)
had her sights on the van. (speculation: is
it *possible* (no matter how un-likely and
completely far-fetched -- a really bizarre and
implausible STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION), that
*she* was the one motivating my folks from
getting an SUV? -- it'ss possibull, it'ss possibull
(use Louisianna Bayou accent here). Of course
another "possibility" was that my parents, following
the grand and glorious TOTAL VICTORY of Generalisimo
George Bushimo (the major domo of operation:
THE ARAB SOLUTION) instills them with such warmth
and re-assured-ness, that they feel that it's their
patriotic duty to continue guzzlig gas at an
even *more* extravagant rate -- the van maybe
a chevy, but's still got to guzzle -- have you
seen the *total* lack of aero-dynamic styling
on that "box"?????

So, it goes. of course, when i treid to "fight"
(if you can call my half-hearted form of
mostly-polite quasi-assertive style of whine-ing
a "fight"), the main answer was of course that
she deserved it, since she's made something of
her life, and of course i'd just trash it out
anyway -- sort of like the car that i now "live"
in. Hey, it's the ART MOBILE! (as in: Quick,
Robin. To the art mobile!). Sure the back seat
contains my folding table and padded folded chair
so that "at the drop of a hat" (or the drop of
a leaflet) i can spring into action and set up
a "booth" to sell my prints -- of which i keep
a sample case of about 30-50 of the "for sale"
works. As, well as several boxes of art supplies
-- mainly collage stuff (and yes, i have started
trying to organize things to reduce the mass of
"stuff" that i have on hand, but when you have
to collage, you HAVE to collage -- it takes a
lot of "stuff" to make a lot of "stuff" (i think
that's a picasso quote ;)

-- more later.

*************** BONUS TRACKS ****************

https://www.angelfire.com/art2/pizo/tech/velasco/index.html

the worlds first down-loadable virus for your
cell-phone: Have fun destroying people's lives!!!!

The world just keeps getting weirder and wired-er
each day!!

--42--

Of blogs, life, and detris
Mood:  hungry
Topic: Life goes on...
Well, at last they paid me for the print! (So, they
would even *think* tha I have change? Anyway, that
got me $40 instead of $32 -- hey, I sed "You can
pay me the rest later".)

So, Schmoigen, what do you know?

(What do we know? Little. What do we understand?
littler still)

So, I guess my "sustaining mantra" (something like
the Maktar Chant of Strenght; naroth, tarook.
naroth, tarock) is "Keep creating, keep staying
alive, don't die). That's pretty much "it" these
days.

I got a few pieces made for the art sale (tue/wed)
and hopefully they will sell (color sells!) Very
intense dreams lately. Some so intense that I
wake up screaming -- still half asleep, and still
arguing with the "them" in the dream. The only
good things to come out of them, are (of course)
ideas for paintings. (Is this how dali and redon
were "tormented" into such creative works???)

The one painting is a sort of tryptic:



The center piece is about 4' tall x 7' wide,
the two side pannels are therefore 6' tall x
3' wide (the center, top-piece is 1' tall x
7' wide. The pieces are described as follows.
(I gessoed the paper for them over the weekend,
and was wanting to get started, but Ian din't
shew up on Sunday -- thus, the need for relaxsation).

P - The prision, the peasant women (young and
old) at the prison, awaiting some word from
within. Obviously they are peasants, after all
even the most heinious of criminals if not a
peasant (eg, Sadam) would *never* be kept in
sech a place.

G -- The crying grandmother on the left (as viewed,
on the right as is the painting from it's POV).

T -- The temple (or mosque, more likely these
days). The defiled temple that holds "a suspect".
for that reason the entire temple is destroyed).

S -- The sky over-head (still not sure how to
present that; ie, serenity, or turmoil?

Then below the tryptic within a tryptic of
the Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. The
big 3, they have brought such change to our
world, and now in the modern age, confronted
with gene-splicing, the deep time of both
cosmology and evolution, and the threat of
unlimited rice pudding for all -- now they
embroiol our world in the disasters man-made
across the globe. Is there no escape from
this madness?

I fear not; I think so.

--42--

S --

Below are the three "temples"

art sale, money things, the universe
Mood:  cool
Topic: art
so, anyway, sold two of my better prints for $5
to one of the art froodz up at the shule. A v. hoopy
Korean lady who knows fine art when she sees it.
Could'a gotten more out of her, but took the soft
approach -- I'd rather soak some clot (did that
later, with my new print)

Oddly enough, the muses send me encouragements when
I least expect them. Had a v. hoopy conv with Betsy
about my latest article, got my piece accepted for
the show -- not my best painting, but she was
like-ing it v. much, so i put it in. Of course,
the spring show, is ALL about the competition.
(could say much here, hope this year is a bit
more "open" to print making and such)

So, there are these large (about 1metre long by
50cm wide) bundles of packing paper for "something"
that must have arrived. The discarded pape's are
on the large table in the hallway (the one that
used to be in the print room, but that we
moved out when the new press came in. So, anyway
I snags three of the papers for the purposes of
collographs. Later on, Snena comes by (can't
fig out why), so I offer her one of the prints
for $20.

Sneena: What is it? You need money, isn't Zim
going to give you money tommorrow? (for being
his chaufeur)

Pizo: Well, I need to buy some fabriano paper,
so that I can print some more things to sell
at the art sale next week.

Sneena: These are pretty good. I'll give you
$20 for one. (strange how fast they change their
tune when they see the qual of my work, and of
course the STARVING ARTIST PRICES!!!!) How did
you do this?

Pizo (shows her the paper): These were out in
the hall.

Shneena: I saw those, and thought about getting
them. (now regretting not LOOKING at the fucking
paper, you IDIOT!!!! So, did Don Taylor jsust
completely waste his time TRYING to get you to
see stuff??? Don't you *ever* read art history,
don't you ever use the *super, fab* library on
campus???)

Pizo: uh, yeah.

So, natch, as I allez tells my kids: If you are
going to survive if you are poor, you have to
be smart. I looked at the paper, and noticed
the very BACK-BONE (skelleton) like apperaence,
and of course the delicate folded length-wise
edges of the paper, that created V. nice negative
space, and. Oh, I should just scan in the print
and post it. So, anyway, I printed up 5 copies
(borrowing paper from Misum, will ofer to repay
in paper, or give him one of the prints). The
other one, looked "sort of torso" like -- again,
you have to LOOK, and then draw upon artistic
database stored after many, many hours of artisitc
contemplation, and so it turned out that the
first one printed v. nice but the 2nd one didn't
come out well enough. Most of the image depends
on the title, but then that's how it is. Just
looking, making decisions as to how to ink the
thing up, etc.

Now, of course, I don't purport that the piece
is my best original art, only that I (as the
artist) and using my *education* recog'd the
possiblities, and then used the *skills* that
I have to create the art work. So, it's basically
a function of having spent most of my life
thinking about art and such, doodling, and
such, and of course having spent the last 2
full years thinking, speaking, writing, and
even dreaming (night-dreams, not day-dreams)
about art. Well, of course day-dreaming as well.
But, as the rock-and-roll song sez: Wishin'
and hopin' and dreamin' won't get him into
your arms.

Or: Wishing won't make it happen, you must
beleve in yourself, you must sharpen your
skills, etc.

(should insert Robert Crumb inspirational
cartoon here)

Well, that's about all.

Oh, yes, started my entries on the PDE
(Public Domain Encyclopedia) for the (big
drum roll here, with a flourish of bag
pipes)

THE ART ENCYCLOPEDIA !!!!

Working on the renaissance (you can see
how many times I've had to type that word
in, since I can now spell "correctly" --
I still prefer my "renaesance" spelling,
but go figure, it's stuck in my head that
way now :(

So, it's going to be cross referenced, and
taking a page from one of the .uk. sites,
going to have a "artist trading card" with
vital stats, and stuff. Need to upload soon.

Anwway, aside from the money blues, the new
work (The Anatomy of Time) looks, v. good.
Should sell well, even in classic black). if
I could just get ahead some money, I could
get back to my important art; ie, the
"up from minimalism" and the exploration of
the various boundaries between the geometric
and the organic. This problem occupies almost
all of my waking life (and often some v. good
dreams as well).

And finally, as might well be told: Sold the
print (really just an AP of first welded-plate
print (see new entry under printmaking) along
with some scrap red napthol ink (v. gouged),
oh, she ooohed and ahhhed over it (Zeeta, first
she whites me on the price $32 (my standard
price at the student art sale), and then she
REALLY utz'es me on the payment. Sed she was
going to get me my money, then stops by the
gallery to chat with Dave, and off they go.
Turns out they're in DETROIT !!! Until the
1st!!!! (sheesh, lady, don't you know I'm a
starving student!!!!)

You know, sometimes, I get *so* depressed.

Also, can't decide what to wear at the Southern
Graphics confernece this spring (asuming I can
clump the money togeth to go). On the one hand,
I like the idea of just going as I am -- quite
a few people can't believe it's me when I dress
up; eg, when acting as an usher for the theatre,
etc. On the other hand, hate to make them think
I'm the greatest artist to come down the pike
since Nacknud Adams!!! Oh, well.

Zip was on the phone with Zek last night, so I
couldn't resist: "How are the kids? (fine)
Things are not as dark as they seem (pause)
Also, when dealing with all of this, remember cts
Consider the Source. Also, I'll be up there in
the spring. Southern graphics conference. (what?)
(speaking slowly, slightly slurred speech)
S-outhern Graphics Conference, ok bye.

Zek didn't want to let me talk, so I said it'll
only take 12 seconds. He *actually* looked at
his watch. Sheesh, I don't even know why she
talks to him. He is a manerism that is incapable
of *any* independent or rational thought. The
errie thing is to talk to him and then to my dad
(Zerg) in the same week about anything political
or such and they MOUTH the exact same phrases.
Of course, they are being programmed by the same
evil empire (Foxx news, CNN, O'reily report, etc).

btw: Heard a week or so ago, that Rupert Murdock
is planning to move his headquarters to New York
-- going for the "home field advantage".

Finished the first of a series of collages on
consummerism (probably psychic about the call
this morning) first one is "called" "We want you
to want" -- v. nice. very intense to work on
those, I spent about 3 or 4 solid hours on it.
And then about 4 solid hours on art history
(sunday).

Also, since Zeeta utzed my so bad, I took one of
her plates out -- thinking to cut it up and
make a new collograph out of it; but you know
me -- destruction of art and all of that. So,
I scanned it in, and printed it on a v. nice
piece of paper (extra glossy cannon) and then
tore it up and collagted it, and then printed
the "welding plate" palate #1 over it (which
wasn't exactly the one that she has -- it was
the artist's proof of "Above and below" (or
in the Pollock style "plants" and "clouds").

v. satisfying. Don liked it imensely and
recommended doing more. dave chipped in that
I didn't need to work so large. Hmmm, I'm
not sure if that was an esthetic comment,
or he's still having night-mares of me running
my plates thru the new press; ie, ruining my
plates through his press and ruining his precious,
must protect me precisiou.

comp center closing up,
later e-froodz.

--42--

Your credit card payment is overdue!!!!!!1
Mood:  chillin'
Topic: Life goes on...
So, first thing this morning TARGET (credit card
fascist division) calls, and this *REALLY* pumped
up, angry woman starts yelling at me (about 2
sentences into the conv)

Relevant stuff (really upset me this morning)....

pizo: Yes, I know. I haven't had a job in 2 years.
And I...

target snot: You didn't have a job, and yet you
applied for a credit card and charged up over
$200 on it. (actually it was $195, and of course
as the "record will show", most of the purchases
were for food!) How did you expect to pay for it?

pizo: Well, I had a part time job...

snot: YOU just said that you handn't had a job
in 2 years!!!

pizo: Yes, I had a part-time job during the summer
and I thought it was going to be permanent. It
fell through.

snot: WELL this payemen, blah, blah, blah, blah
(starts shouting, getting v. rude)

pizo: I will send some money as soon ...

snot: it's too late for that. (again getting
even angrier, I guess that the fact that I was
still half-asleep (woke up about 3pm and finished
the laundry, fell back asleep, then awoken from
v. deep sleep) and wasn't really rising to the
bait)

pizo: I consider this harrasment and I want you
to stop calling me.

snot: How do you define harrassment?

pizo (blink/blink effect) I want you to stop calling
me....

snot: The calls will continue until you take care
of this.

(more of this same thing)

pizo: (finally, had enough, need to get to school)
Ok, I'll see if I can borrow some money from
some one and send you some mone. Good bye.

(oddly enough, my voice and demeaner was not
*too* bad. Of course, at one point my usual
laconic observation slipped out:

pizo: how do you sleep at night?

snot: I sleep very well. Now what are you going
to do about this?

So, too in the infinite mysteries of time, I came
to the following conclusions.

First I wanted to drive to the Target and hurl
bricks through the windows. (Also, thoughts
of setting the place on fire, looting, and
pillaging were going on, but then this passed,
since it's already "been done" -- and I am
nothing, if not non-repetitive. I mean there
are some people who seem to feel that if they
repeat themselves then it's a valid expression.
But, me, I'd rather die than repeat myself. I
mean, if you're repeating yourself, I mean all
you're doing is saying the same things over
and over and over again.

Alas, I have wandered off topic again. Sorry.

(So, to repeat myself ;) I next thought of
using anarchy. The next time she calls (prob
inevitable -- see below for $$$ situation update)
I would have a dictionary and...

snot: How do you define harrasment.

pizo: Well, strange that you should ask, the
Random House dictionary defines harrasssment
as noun, the act of harrassing. the process
of intimindation by intentional actions of abuse,
the ... ;)

next off, I finally realized that perhaps a DADA
or hermetical approach (ala, Eugenio Montale and
the "cuttle fish bones" group in Italy at the
end of "The Great War" (aka, the war to end
all wars, aka "WW I").

snot: blah, blah, blah?

fish-head: It's odd that you should ask that. I
think I've figured out what to do. It's obvious
that you are suffering from a fish head problem.
Now, since I too have had to deal with this
problem, I can help you. have you had thoughts
about fish lately? And by that I mean any sorts
of vertibrate memebers of the family pices?
For exmaple, do you find yourself trapped in
what could be called a "fish bowl" sometimes
in order to escape reality, we pretend that
it's called "our desk" or "our workstation",
but in reality it's just a fish bowl, even
if it's more cubic-cular shapped than fish
bowl...

next up, (finally, later in the day, after
a depressing couple of hours this morning)
I realized that's she's just a cog in the
matrix. I'm not sure if I should point that
out or not. I mean, it's not nice to spoil
their delusion that what they think they
have is "a" life; when reality (whatever
*that* is), all they have is a really crummy
job that just plays on their own suppressed
feelings of frustration. These suppressed
emotions, are then channeled outward towards
the would-be dead-beats (such as your current
narrator; yes, "A clockwork Orange" was on
the independent film channel recently). And
so builds the cycle of abuse, that ends up
with those soldiers sitting on bel grade
prisoners in Iraq. (It's all part of the
continuum of human existence, misery, and
of course those that control the rice
pudding.

The lame,pathetic, and theworse.
Mood:  bright
Topic: Life goes on...
Well,I guess most ofus "sane" people are all sort
of getting used to DUB being our new president.
At least this time, the scam was a little bit more convincing.

On the home front, more of the same. Zek went off
about me going to "just going to a junior college".
Now if you were going to a REAL school, you'd
maybe have a chance at getting a job.

So, again (for the ka-zillionth time (erk, I
mean KILO-zillionth time - metric system ;)
that THIS particular junior college (BCSA,
Btookhaven College, school of the arts has
ARTICULATION agreements with other schools.
I go here, take my studio and core courses,
then when I transfer all of the courses will
count; I won't have to take them over again,
I save money since it's supported by the county,
etc.

THen he switches to how old I am and how I won't
be able to get into a 4-year school. I mention
that Goran was 35 and that when he took the
trip, he got a full scholarship at WASH-u
(his work speaks for itself).

So, then ZEK (the magnificent, oh dear lord
when you created him, how humbled are the
rest of your works in comparison -- actually
in ALL of this, Zek is the *most* pathetic
creature of all -- a mere mechanism, etc).

SO, then he goes on (yet again) about moving
down to Zark-bloggliingly bore-ing ATLANTA!

So, I start yelling, about that's all just
so much hog wash, and that he's Xhris is a
moron (to say nothing of a glaze-eyed
born-again drooler of the worst sort -- sheesh
when I visited my Sister, I noticed that they
ONLY book that they had in the living room
was a bible, and some bible-study books
NOT even a dictionary, encyclopedia is
right out, -- oh, I could drivel on for days
on end.

So, then I decide to leave rather than continue
yelling (yes, I was quite sober, it was in
the morning), so of course Zek has to come
out and start cursing me to NICELY fold
the blankets in my room and put them up
in the closet, sez I "I was planning to do
it later" -- being already a bit late-ish
for my class:

YOU'LL GOD DAMNED DO IT RIGHT NOW, (hands on
hip, really pathetich). So, I lugs me old
bod into my room, pick up the blankets,
(which are already folded), fold them again
(redundency is the dogma of the mediocre
mind) he's watching me do this (he even
has a small flash light since he can't
see v. well (the lamp by the bookcase
has a burned out bulb), watches as I painfully
hobble over to the walk in closet, carefully
place the gollga-frenchin' blankets back
on the shelf. (I thought that he might
want to take them out of my room because
of all of the "bugs" (gnats, which never
bother me).

Odd that in the twisting of time and space
and their inter-twine-ings, that he some
how objects to Millie having a maid, and
yet NEVER seems to even have the desire
(energy? why that's woman's work!) to wipe
up the spilled coffee on the drain board.
Half the time he leaves the spoon laying
out on the counter, it falls to Millie or
me to pick it up, (say all of this slowly
as if in a Dave Chappel video) put the
spoon into one of his dozen or so discarded
coffee cups, fill it with water, put it
into the sink to soak, tear off a paper
towel, wipe up the spilled coffee, thros
the paper towel in the trash. Mean time
he will actually (sometimes) stand there
(left hand on his left hip, holding the
coffee cup perched atop the top of his
humongous belly (you don't think that all
those 28-grams of fat crappy-67-cent TV
dinners are to be disueded by drinking a
single 8-ounce weight-loss shake for
breakfast do you????) and just stands there
with that dumb-shit look on his fat face
as Millie (or on rare occassion i) clean
up after him (don't even get me started
on the spilled sugar packet, or the sugar
packet paper on the floor bit -- can yous
says "step and fetch it" ????

Of course, all of this precludes him going
back and plopping his fat arse down in the
chair and consulting his mystical advisors:
CNN, the o'reily report, foxx news channel.

One of my most memorable encounters was whilest
I was back in my room and a PBS special came on
about the election and going in and telling him
he might want to see it. His response was
(loud, sur-ley voice) "Fuck PBS, they don't
know shit") Ah wat a friend in Rupert Murdock
have we. (My aussie freinds out here in e-space
can take some consoltion that he merely provides
the network, we provide the saintly clothed
bigots who pray upon this un-godly (litterally;
they may say that they are Christians, but
in reallity, they are spirtually-dead (spiritless
zombies) concerned only with their own selfish
selves -- despite the fact that their wellbeing
(not to be confused with all of those single
mom's and their UN-FAIR WELFARE!!!! Oh, it just
grinds on this army of the un-dead. sooo much.

Anyway, up here at the school, it's about
9am. Don is out sick (v. sick), Dave was sniffling
yesterday, I prob better get over to the
gallery to start recieving stuff for the next
show. (We're receiving stuff early since a lot
of peop's will be gone for thanksgiving. I'm
not sure if the campus will be open or not.

Sad news is that Dr. Villasend is retireing as
prez of the school -- she, more than anyone
else made the BCSA what it is. V. sad, hope it's
not because of health or stuff (she often hangs
out in the ceramics place -- glad I got THAT
course out of the way (yes, yes, we all know
that Mr. Monk (Tony Sholoub on USA network)
is pretty much based on my own FEAR OF DUST!!!
(trash, garbage, ofal, all fine by me,
but DUST !!!!!!!) Actually, the prob is
that all of that "just" dust in the ceramics
room scares the willies out of me (to quote
Slothi Bartfast). First of all it's SILICA
guys, you know: pneumono-ultra-micro-scopic-
silico-volcani-coni-osis (silicosis) hits the
old lungs pretty hard!!!!

later froodz, off to gallery watch, etc.

--42--