musings. influences. perceptions. considerations. by a creative director. fine artist. image maker. wine drinker. writer.
Why all the SOPA fuss??
As someone who creates content for the web, earns a living from it, and has had her content pirated numerous times, I do feel that we need protection against online piracy.
I do not, however, think that SOPA or PIPA are the legislation we need.
SOPA and PIPA are badly drafted legislation that won't be effective at their stated goal (to stop copyright infringement), and will cause serious damage to the free and open Internet. They put the burden on website owners, like myself, to police user-contributed material and call for the unnecessary blocking of entire sites. Small sites like mine won't have sufficient resources to defend themselves.
Over the weekend, the Obama administration issued a statement, saying it would oppose PIPA and SOPA as written: "While we believe that online piracy by foreign websites is a serious problem that requires a serious legislative response, we will not support legislation that reduces freedom of expression, increases cybersecurity risk, or undermines the dynamic, innovative global Internet."
Here is what I wrote to accompany the video–written December 21, 2005:
On an early Sunday morning, December 4, 2005, I woke up to fluffy falling snow. The streets were fairly quiet since they had about two inches of coverage. I got up and got ready to drive over the George Washington Bridge to meet Ric. I wasn’t feeling well the night before. I had a headache that wouldn’t go away and a slight fever so I barely had my usual four hours of sleep. On this morning, the number of sleep hours didn’t matter. I was spending the day with Ric, my friend, my muse. It had been a year since I’d seen him.
I made it over the George Washington almost two hours later than planned, partly due to snow, but mostly due to my lack of getting out of bed early enough to deal with the predicted accidents on Route 80. Over the bridge I quickly made it to Payson Avenue. Outside the color was a beautiful six percent grey. The snow had stopped but it covered the city streets enough to hide the dirt. I waited outside Ric’s apartment in the car. I kept it running to keep the heat going. Across from Ric’s apartment building was the entrance to a large forest filled park. A grandfather walked by, pulling his granddaughter on a blue plastic sled. I laughed out loud as I watched her grab the snow she passed, balled it up and whacked the back of her grandfather’s head with every third step he took. It wasn’t malicious. It looked like pure innocent fun which must be why the old man didn’t seem to mind. Either that or he, too, was taking in the sight of the light shade of gray surrounding him.
Soon after, I saw a figure approach my side of the car. The car window cracked from the ice as I rolled it down. Ric stood beside the car with his purposeful bedridden, disheveled look. I cracked a smile and said, “Wow, you have a lot of hair!”
And so began our journey up north to Kilingsworth Connecticut. We were going to meet his younger brother, Felipe, another talented artist in the famous Molina family. The purpose of the visit was to film a documentary on Felipe. I had been wanting to document Ric and his family since almost the inception of our acquaintance. My immediate need was for a class assignment. I am often a nonconformist, and one way of displaying that for this class was to film six hours of outtake, digitize two hours of the footage, and edit for about twenty. I think it was more pain than just reading a few books and writing a paper. But my experience will be much longer lived than a paper I’d eventually toss into the corner of my studio.
I made Ric drive. I planned ahead to do his interview in the car. Ric is an accomplished musical artist, writer, songwriter, singer, producer. He also has talents in speaking. He can talk, and talk, and talk for hours about himself and his family. The great part is that every word is captivating. I knew he would have beautiful insight into the surrounding atmosphere of Felipe’s younger life, and I knew I’d want to capture it.
He talked about Felipe’s childhood, describing how he was able to appreciate things outside of the realm of normal childhood understanding, like studying yoga, advanced reading, and learning bee-bop on the violin. Felipe’s initial artistic interests lived in the musical arts. He had drawn some illustrations as a child, but never pursued his natural talent. He wanted to play music. Along with the violin he studied the saxophone and bass guitar. He played music into his early twenties, developing practice and work ethics that would reflect in his future as a painter.
Ric spent his early adult life living with Felipe in New York City. He summarized this time as a period where Felipe stopped developing his visual skills altogether. He was pursuing music alone, perhaps attempting to follow his brother’s success as a musician. Ric was unsure of Felipe’s future potential with music and remembers a significant time when that all seemed to change. It was May 17, Felipe’s birthday, when their father came to visit from Florida. Felipe was in his early twenties.
Felipe and Ric were raised under the affect of their artistic father, Alvaro Namen. Much predilection can be attributed to the father’s career as a successful illustrator and painter. It was not that Ric and Felipe were pushed into studying and practicing the arts, but all around them on every wall was a result of their father’s lifetime of practicing a craft. He practiced until he reached perfection. And then he’d sometimes destroy the result. His lesson was to pursue the need of that little voice inside – the one that makes an artist’s need to create. He created art because he had to, not to sell it, not to show it in a gallery, but because he was driven to express himself. It was that drive that his sons picked up on. Ric had it, and found his direction. Felipe had it, but was heading down a path of expression that would not be a successful outlet. Ric remembers May 17 as the day of the “secret watercolor meeting.” Alvaro showed up to celebrate Felipe’s birthday, but more importantly, to discuss his direction as an artist. Ric was not present for their discussion, but afterward, Felipe had a gift from his father – a new set of watercolor brushes and an inspiration to begin painting – again.
We pulled into Felipe’s driveway – a modest house, very New England. The slippery snow discouraged me from looking around too much as we were greeted by a large golden retriever. Inside his house, four bouncy children appeared. They were all tiny, like Felipe’s build. As he greeted us he instantly looked familiar. I felt I had known him for years since I had known him vicariously through Ric. He was handsome, thin and wearing a big smile as his presence took over the room. I was afraid I wouldn’t metaphorically fit into his work space. He definitely needed a small space to contain his emanation.
He offered a cup of coffee, made a pot, and the camera began to roll. His winter work space is within the house, due to lack of heat in the outside barn. The barn looked intriguing but he was not anxious to show it due to the weather. He studio was familiar – exactly how I would keep it. Paint brushes were crammed into cups on his color board, paint strokes and dabs were all over the walls and wood floor. Canvases were hidden behind each other. A bare light bulb glowed in the corner.
Felipe played and act of false modesty. He was shy to start speaking. He kept commenting on how crazy it was to be speaking with him when there’s so other many artists out in the working art world. He knows he has talent and he knows he can speak to his process and inspirations. I knew he needed about thirty minutes to warm up and admit it in beautiful words. And he did.
He spoke of his inspirations, touching lightly upon his father’s influence at an early age up to his current working relationship with other artists such as the bass player Jaco Pastorious. He mentioned famous names such as Francis Bacon, Michelangelo, Jimmy Hendrix, and even Martin Luther King, whose every speech he has recorded on audio tape. He talked about his favorite forms of inspiration which are simply looking at art, noting what he sees and why he sees what he sees.
He tried to explain his process, which seems like something too strong to put into words. Felipe has the same drive his father possesses – the need to create – the need to make something. He draws constantly, referring to things he sees in front of him, and sometimes a literal translation of his dreams. His dreams are a big influence and he often paints what he saw in his thoughts while sleeping. In his gallery shows he often leaves out his sketchbooks for visitors to see his process.
He’s taken on a new direction with his work of the past year. He’s gone from an illustrative, petite detailed, colorful style to bolder shapes, larger proportions and abstract approach. It’s a very new look from what I’ve seen in Ric’s possession the last few years. Felipe feels it’s the artist’s necessity, and almost responsibility to change. He describes creativity as constantly evolving, with artists having the ongoing problem of creating something and “screwing with it.” He finds his influence to change mostly in people – his family, his church, his colleagues and even his pets. He calls his family experience a “bigger bag to dip into” for life experience. It was beautiful to watch him describe his sons’ evolvement in their own drawing skills. His best way to be the best artist he can be is as he says, “to experience life.”
I stayed with Felipe for almost five hours that day. I could have filmed more, but felt the family tugging at him from behind the studio door. It was a Sunday and I was afraid to interrupt to much of his family day. I left with the feeling that I knew I had something great on tape. I intend to document him again, maybe visiting in the Spring when he’s working out in his barn. I felt our conversation was so strong that I knew before I’d film him again, I would have to edit this quickly and then set it aside to digest.
I bike almost every day on this sunny hilltop (captured here with my iPhone). I don't know why today's excursion reminded me of a post I wrote in October of 2006, when a crew first broke ground to clear out over 200 acres on the hilltop.
Perhaps it was the new footpath they put in, which let me approach this full view of the new condominiums, now for sale.
I'm sure the sales pitch includes the view of the sunset, which is about the only point I can't argue–it is spectacular from the very top.
The ex moved out, and took his 3 TVs. You don’t care. But if one day you’re in my situation–home with no TV and 5 cats, just keep in mind the following things you could be doing…
Buy epoxy. It’s awesome. It fixes everything. But keep the cats away.
Inhale epoxy. Just do it.
Look at fish tank. Don’t clean it, just think about how much time you now have to clean it.
Turn on deck lights. See if snow has melted.
Look at cable box and wonder when you’ll either cancel or buy new tv.
Plug in cable box if you really care about what time it is.
Weigh-in the cats. Note the black one weighs more, but looks slimmest. Make note to self to buy more black pants. Maybe furry black pants.
Change every bulb in every light fixture.
Turn on deck lights. See if snow has melted.
Go to the gym. They have tv! Late night choices are: “16 and pregnant,” “Charlie Rose,” “Glee” or some random republicans. Definitely opt for Charlie. Hope that Matt Damon isn’t on–spin bikes don’t fair well with dramatic pauses.
Clean stainless steel stove. Every day.
Go to basement. Grab flashlight. Seek out all illegal items that ex-bf claims he hid from you and could never find. Imagine your next party as a scene from Boogie Nights involving a small Asian man.
Turn on deck lights. See if snow has melted.
Think about hiring 3 strong plumbers with big wrenches to come fix the leaking radiator–yes just one radiator.
Read Suburban Essex. 17 times. Realize all the activities you’ve been missing around town…. The Stroke Club, Self Help Amputee Group, Yoga for the Face–yes, I said face… and even Lunch with a Leprechaun–which, I kid you not, offers “kid friendly sandwiches.”
Write a blog post about things to do when you don’t have a TV.
If you're one of my 3 friends reading this, you know I own iPawz.com, essentially a blog for all things pet. My good friend with an active blog on all things brand often complains about PR companies sending non-personalized releases. I get many for iPawz, but now, I feel there's nothing lower than mom not even knowing my name. PR peeps, don't use generic greetings, Bill and I will make fun of you.
Hi !
I was searching for pet care bloggers when I came across BLOG
NAME {uhm, my blog name is iPawz}. We know how much a pet is a part of the family and you want to buy them
all you can – but that extra cost can add up fast, especially when
you’re on a tight budget. If you want to keep on spoiling your pooch and
pampering your cat without breaking the bank… look no further than to the
Coupon Mom Show! In the episode airing next week (Thursday February 25th), Coupon Mom shows her viewers how to spend smartly on pets so that the WHOLE
family gets what they need without putting the family in the financial
doghouse.
As a pet blogger, I thought you might be interested in
learning about and sharing this episode with the readers of BLOG NAME {uhm, my blog name is iPawz}... yadda yadda.
It's now my favorite dog-walking time of year when fireflies are screaming in their loudest illumination. What is usually a dark, rock-tripping stutter through an empty field late at night with my greyhound is temporarily lit by what looks to be millions of little light bulbs known as fireflies, lightning bugs, and even glow worms. (They're actually beetles.)
I have to admit my captivation. I'm lucky to live in a very private wooded area where these bad boys can go nuts blinking their little butts on and off. Literally. I mean, literally they're bad boys - one theory is the males are blinking the brightest in the taller trees while the girls stay low, setting off a more seductive blink. If human interest were only so obvious. I digress.
I think even my dog is hypnotized by the spectacle. But then again the light show has me so mesmerized that Rocky now has all the time in the world to do his business. There's no rush on these evenings - I've forgotten any late night fear of wild dogs, rabid raccoons or foot-stomping deer. This is Soprano land in North NJ so there's also suspect cars slowing down once in a while.
No fears on firefly nights. Their massive cluster of lights is beyond any more desciptive words. I thought about trying to capture it on camera but I know I can not do the visual any justice. I tried Googling some firefly images and found no photographic evidence close to what I witness, but I did find this pictured installation from the 2004 Whitney Biennial. "Fireflies on the Water" is an installation with 150 lights, mirrors and water, by Yayoi Kusama.
Finally, I found a close approach to reality, but I doubt anyone sauntering through the Whitney is looking down and whispering "Go poo."
I feel like Jack Torrance when it comes to writing my MFA thesis - even just the summary of it. By definition I don't procrastinate. I just can't get it done. I surf around blogs, museum sites, writers' journals.... like I'll find some answer to kick start summarizing the ideas in my head.
Well I did come across this little gem. It's the Pantone Color of the Year for 2009: PANTONE 14-0848 Mimosa. Amazing. It's a slightly brighter chroma than my studio walls. I'm now surrounded by a color that "exemplifies the warmth and nurturing quality of the
sun, properties we as humans are naturally drawn to for reassurance."
In NJ that's equivalent to Hollywood Tans. In 8 minutes I'll be ready to write.
Some compelling images from the recent recovery of Flight #1549 in the Hudson. It’s the kind of stuff you can look at now with interest because nobody died; The scene becomes one of morbid curiousity. It gives you a rare glimpse at the people who actually have to clean up a mess like this after the TV crews are all gone. It’s also interesting to see really good photography of an event different than the way you initially experienced it. While cell phone journalism will become even more widespread, there’s a difference between capturing the moment—and capturing it well. (Via.)
My TV was off and I saw no light, but last night I was visited by a poltergeist. It was a friendly one. I can tell there are many happy spirits here around my house which has been standing since 1892. I was at the end of a dream when a strong physical presence took over and awakened me. A presence was at the foot of my bed, persistently tugging at my left foot. It was a friendly tug. Not a "get out of bed now" kind of tug, but more like a "hey, wake up" kind of tug. Of course any kind of tug made my hair stand up and senses alert to anything I could see or hear in the dark. It was frightening for about 30 seconds, then I realized if the presence could speak it would say "Hey, wake up and update your blog already."
"A robber who held up a bookmaker's shop in Leicester with his girlfriend's vibrator has been jailed."
Ok. Another area of England is safe at night.
"Sentencing him, Judge Philip Head said: "It's right to
record that you did not have a firearm but you pretended you had and
intended that those you confronted believed that you did, and it must
have been truly terrifying for them at the time."
When looking for commuting info to NYC from NJ - found this gem right smack in the middle of the DeCamp busline website:
"In May,2006, DeCamp instituted a half-fare student ticket program that
we believed would promote and benefit those seeking a higher education.
Alas, society has once again proved itself unworthy and completely
abused this program so badly that it will now be discontinued."
CBS’s Les Moonves blames their evening news ratings on his view that people just don’t want a woman in that anchor slot. Nooooo. It’s way more simple than that. First of all Les, the format of your show is what’s killing you. Boring, staid, depressing. Factor in the internet, where people can get your news half a day earlier and you’re DOA. But, if you insist on staying with the format, your other major problem is that people just don’t want their news read to them off a prompter by someone with less personality than a Disney animatronic. Especially someone who comes off as being too smug.
She did well on the Today Show. The format was perfect. She could do serious segements bookended by humerous ones. Turn on the charm when she had to, yet also be firm with politicians when they were giving her the runaround. Problem is, the nightly news doesn’t allow for that back and forth dynamic. It's major event of the day followed by serious issue followed by secondary major event of the day followed by still another serious issue.
Maybe, you get one human interest segment at the end. By then however, too much of the brooding she’s perfected has sunk in and not even a segment on the world's largest corn husk in Iowa can save her at that point. Ironic that she was on the network with Tom Brokaw, who could come into your living room, sit down and have a beer with you at the end of a long day, because she seems to have learned nothing from him.
Katie comes in and tells you to take your feet off your own coffee table. Ain’t happening, especially in flyover country. Which is really too bad. She has the ability as an anchor, she just needs to lighten up and stop trying to prove she belongs.
And Les needs to back off and stop forcing a square peg so much. (via Drudge)
I knew that whole ‘King of the Jungle’ thing was an act.
Amazing video showing the exception, not the rule to
what you find in most National Geographic clips. Summed up quite elegantly by one YouTube commentor:
I have a birthday arriving in a few days - that makes me a Taurus. I've read a few astrological descriptions that claim we Tauri choose our words wisely, therefore often opting to say less as more.
I'll use that excuse to explain the lame 'ol statement every blogger makes at one point on their keyboard: "Gee it's been a while since I've posted."
But I have no real excuse. I make time to work a 12 hour day. I make time to watch the Sopranos once a week. I make time to go to the gym twice a week. I barely made time to make it to my grad class this semester. I make time to feed the pets, walk the dog and clean up the dead mice my cat leaves behind.
Things I don't seem to have time for - gardening, more walks with the dog, relaxing in my yard, soccer, filming-shooting-writing personal work. I actually enjoy writing - more than I'd expected. I write more in my head than on paper but I'm trying to flip that around. Maybe I'll make it some sort of birthday resolution to re-prioritize my time.
Of course I'll be sure to make time for my pedicure this weekend before heading out for a birthday celebration.
Found this amusing map floating around -it's supposedly from National Geographic's February issue. Yes, I represent part of that big fat orange circle in the Northeast.
Short of switching coasts to LA or the predominantly gay San Francisco, it looks like there are really big single Texas boys hanging out in three of the largest "fat" cities in the US... otherwise I can find gambling addicts in Vegas or some overcooked tan single men in sunny Phoenix.
Perfect blog post on this Good Friday... Here's a man with way too much fat on his hands. Check out Robert Bolesta's Value Pack fonts. As Bill stated when he sent this to me, it's awesomeness.
Stories like this one horrify me. Rat poison was found in pet food blamed for
the deaths of at least 17 cats and dogs, but scientists said Friday
they still don’t know how it got there and predicted more animal deaths
would be linked to it.
Major brands like Eukanuba and Iams are affected.
A complete list of the recalled products along with product codes, descriptions and production dates was posted on Menu Foods' Web site. The company also designated two phone numbers that pet owners could call for information: (866) 463-6738 and (866) 895-2708.
Holy crap. Literally. ASSuming this is a joke or a lame attempt at viral marketing, although I'm afraid it's not, a woman in LA is claiming her dog's rear end - butthole included - resembles an image of Jesus Christ. How do I even finish writing about this. I'll just let you see for yourself.
That's right, Bill, this MUST make your list of weekly WTF.
NJ Govt. Warning: Being a redneck may be hazardous to your health
Squirrel hunters: drop your weapons! Squirrels being caught near a toxic waste dump might contain lead. New Jersey is advising that adults eat squirrel no more than twice a week and even less for children and pregnant women.
Uh, Ok.
"We've known for a long time something was wrong here, we just didn't know what it was," resident Myrtle Van Dunk said.
Wake-up-call to Myrtle - Of course there's something wrong. You're eating squirrel!!
His twelve cent noodles definitely helped me during a rough 2001 web agency year, but now I prefer a little less salt and MSG. Farewell to the king of Cup Noodles. Amid bad 1998 web design, you can surf his company site for Ramen recipe ideas...
Ramen on a salad. Ramen on pizza. They list lunches, snacks, and even main dishes.
If you're up for some Mexican flavor, try Top Ramen Olé!
You do not like them? So you say.Try them! Try them! And you may.
Uh, I don't wanna look either, buddy, but you're too damn funny not to post.
I went to flickr. I wanted to start a new group of public images to help out a friend who does great work. I researched what was out there in the construction field. I started searching for the terms "carpenter", "construction", and the like.
I soon learned that a search in flickr groups for "blue collar builder" lists results with a group actually named "You Wearing A Glass Bowl on Your Head"
I have no idea where "blue", or "collar", or "builder" falls into this group's keywords (except maybe the blue towels), but it's entertainment that can't be coached.
If you're into latex fetishes (or maybe silicone, rubber, or vinyl), have fun searching flickr groups for simply "blue collar" (check the #1 result). It's closely followed by a group on
Beaded Knitting & Crochet.
Needless to say I was too disturbed to create my own group so I'll venture back at some point. I have to wonder - don't those guys in latex overheat easily? Especially when they're photographed on a latex sheet...
Jogging has actually become the easy part. I started jogging outdoors last Spring - maybe three or four times a week. Once I got on a schedule, it was easy to keep up.
No resolutions needed for that one.
Then I saw Winter approaching and bought a treadmill in October. I know myself well enough that if it drops below 50, I ain't running outside.
The treadmill has a lot of speed settings, a sturdy belt, even a built-in fan. I'm on it almost every day.
No resolutions needed for that one.
It's not getting on the treadmill, it's what I do when I'm on it. I must watch TV. No biggie, but I'm always watching cooking shows. By the first quarter mile I'm dreaming of braised lamb, Lidia's chicken with rosemary potatoes, or homemade pasta. By the first mile marker I'm too hungry to run much further, but I have a kick-ass four course dinner planned which will, for sure, negate all calorie-burning efforts.
One time I tried changing the channel (dangerously while running). The remote dropped, spun off across the room and left me to cringe at a group of spoiled brats in "House of Carters" for half an hour.
I did manage to change up my running scene a bit. I was pretty much forced to. Living in a house built in 1892, a few electric outlets are bound to trip here and there, sometimes cutting my fast pace to an immediate zero. Thank god the dog has learned to get up out of my way in a hurry. The new treadmill room has no TV... for now. The electric runs great, but now I'm facing another tempting sight - the bar. And mind you, until after my run, a fully stocked bar. Doesn't a good girl who runs every day deserve a glass of wine or two... or three...
What's more worrisome about losing a USB drive: your 4 GB of data on it, or the $38,000 diamond case containing the drive? That's a tough call.
This “Ice” USB drive is made of platinum and hand set with 350 white diamonds, for
a total weight of 5.8ct. Made by mii Stor, it's at least upgradable so your bling won't ever be last season's technology.
The Teletubbies are bouncing for joy! It's not the purple purse-toting teletubby that makes kids gay (though the jury is still out on The Wiggles). It's soy! Wow. Who knew.
Some jackass is actually making the right-wing embarrassed. A WorldNetDaily commentary is claiming "There's a slow poison out there that's severely damaging our children and threatening to tear apart our culture. The ironic part is, it's a 'health food,' one of our most popular."
"Soy is feminizing, and commonly leads to a decrease in the size of the penis, sexual confusion and homosexuality. That's why most of the medical (not socio-spiritual) blame for today's rise in homosexuality must fall upon the rise in soy formula and other soy products."
Had enough? I have. I'm going to cleanse myself from reading way too much conservative material by enjoying some liberal Oreo cookies, and maybe a glass of milk.
Schoolchildren from Caversham have discovered a new theorem that solves an extremely important problem - the problem of nothing.
Side note to those who actually make it through this article: Calculators get an error when a number is divided by zero. Hmm. If I have a brownie, and want to split it in 2, I now have .5 (if I keep half for myself). If I do not want to share my brownie (which is closer to reality), then I want to divide my brownie by zero, or nothing, and I still have 1 whole brownie to myself, but not for very long. So why isn't 1 brownie divided by zero = 1?
Being a college adjunct professor, I understand the stress for students at this mid-year point. So here's some exam cheat note hints - Cheat notes should be really, really small, and written in a direction that you can easily read - oh, and not so permanent.
Baked and basted in apple cider-brown sugar-apple jelly mix, topped with garlic and Jamaican allspice, stuffed with peeled, cinnamon-sprinkled apples... I was so proud of my first turkey - and 20 pounds strong at that.
So proud that I twisted myself over my counter and angled my camera phone just right so I could catch a photo of my dog peeking around for a begging glimpse at my tasty accomplishment... without noticing the cheesy product placement I left (quite obviously) in the composition.
That is, big in fame, recognition, success, and more importantly, self accomplishment.
The average age of my students was 20 when I taught them at School of Visual Arts from 1996-2003, and I was only a handful of years older than the first crew in 1996. As any professor knows, you come across many types of personalities that fill the seats surrounding you. Some were not mentally prepared to pursue a life as an artist, as their passion was lacking, but there were a few students in which I had full confidence in seeing again, outside of SVA and the education walls.
Brian Finke is one of those memorable students. His outstanding environmental portraiture photography seems to pop out at me in occasional Nike ads or stock books.
Another former student, Manuela Paz, has a photography opening Nov 8 at Gallery W 52 in NYC. She's kept my email for almost 7 years, and sends updates on her work. I'm proud of her continued success, and hope that maybe somewhere in the back of her ambitious college memories, she and a few others remember some of the lessons from their energetic digital photography teacher.
After recently catching Opie and Anthony's new and honest TV commercial, I think that maybe HP can save some money on slimming effect filters and headache on the negative outcries they're getting by doing one simple step - load that O & A commercial onto every camera. Let the masters of verbal assault tell it like it is to those in need of some pixel pressing.
That's my mom's favorite phrase when people ask where my creative side stems from. That's actually a funny question when you think about it. And we've all heard this one that she follows it up with: "I can't even draw a stick figure!"
Today my dad would have turned 71. And in January it will be 19 years since he died. Since he may not be able to appreciate my birthday wishes, here's a post for the creative dads out there who may have young kids, adult kids, awkward kids, athletic kids, obnoxious kids or scarily, maybe, like my friend Bill, artistically talented kids. Creative dads: teach them, and better yet, keep doing it yourselves. They'll remember the little things.
Perfection in my craft. Straight lines without rulers. Drafting, woodworking, pencil drawing, light metering and even composting - I learned all by observing the master himself. He was a man of few words. So here's a few for him...
Happy Birthday.
ps. props to the mom - she taught me to use more than a few words.
When the need to destroy precedes the need to create
On his 80th birthday, photographic artist Brett Weston fed sixty years worth of his negatives into the large fireplace in his home in Hawaii. Some of the negatives didn't burn immediately. So Weston doused them with kerosene.
Surrealist author Franz Kafka requested his writings be destroyed upon his death. Were it not for Kafka's close friend and editor Max Brod, no one would know anything about Kafka's writings, which have come to symbolize modern man's anxiety-ridden and grotesque alienation in an unintelligible, hostile, or indifferent world. That would be a shame to have missed. I digress.
These artists are among the many whose self accomplishment is attained through the act of creating... producing... building... filming. Weston proved his strong belief that photographic prints should only be made by the hands of the person who created the negative. He was disgusted at his brother's greed in regards to his famous father's negative collection, as his brother would reprint works of the late Edward Weston and sell them for thousands of dollars each.
So when does the need to create get superseded by the need to destroy? There's many situations, one which I sadly witnessed last week in North Caldwell, NJ. The greed to build. My creative working space includes a large 40 inch window that, at times, shows imagery better than anything available on television. It's a view to 300 acres of woodland open space. Well, as of last week, there's now maybe 280. The other morning I wondered what 2 men with medium sized chain saws could possibly do to my view. Four hours later I knew they could completely alter it. Trees were killed. Rabbits ran scared. Fox and groundhog holes got sealed by trucks with four foot wheels. Birds nests came crashing down. Cicadas flew off in fear. The deer do not understand where their grazing land went. The elegant, long-winged hawk no longer glides above it all.
But I'll soon get to gaze out upon 27 luxury estates. And within a few years, beyond that I can walk my dog up to a group of 140 age restricted town homes. I won't have to worry about deer ticks. I'll just have a few more cars at each new stoplight to help all the new traffic, which may help slow down the cars which kill the deer crossing the roads looking for a new home.
In his mind, the builder will have created an awesome masterpiece. And he'll keep going as long as he finds more hawks soaring in slow motion.
doych is written by me, Joanne Borek, a creative and user experience director in the interactive marketing field. All things creative. All things digital.
The digitally all-inclusive me can be found here: joanneborek.com
My friend sent this. I was NOT looking for it:
When looking for commuting info to NYC from NJ - found this gem right smack in the middle of the 
Holy crap. Literally. ASSuming this is a joke or a lame attempt at viral marketing, although I'm afraid it's not, a woman in LA is claiming her dog's rear end - butthole included - resembles an image of Jesus Christ. How do I even finish writing about this. I'll just let you 
His twelve cent noodles definitely helped me during a rough 2001 web agency year, but now I prefer a little less salt and MSG. Farewell to 
Uh, I don't wanna look either, buddy, but you're too damn funny not to post.
The Teletubbies are bouncing for joy! It's not the purple purse-toting 
Schoolchildren from Caversham have discovered a new theorem that solves an extremely important problem - the problem of nothing.
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