The Dark Places

In my experimental media arts class we were asked to create a 90 second video using only appropriated materials that gave new meaning to the material. I chose to work with the music videos of some of today's most popular female "singers." Here's what I ended up with:

Interiors and Exteriors

In my drawing class, we were asked to create both an interior and exterior psychological space. It was intended to be an exercise in perspective.  My professor had previously suggested that I might enjoy working with scratchboard, so I decided to try it out. She was absolutely right; I think I have found the new love of my life. I would recommend it to anyone who enjoys experimenting with new drawing materials. It's essential a black board and you use special tools to scratch the black off, revealing the white below. I think it's an especially wonderful material for those of us who do a lot of visible cross hatching. That's what I do mostly, so lucky me. For my interior space, I chose to draw a section of my niece's bedroom. Here is an in progress photo:

And the final product. This took me about 3 hours to finish. The bad thing about scratchboard? There's no erasing. So that can be troublesome.

The inability to erase was a much bigger issue with my exterior space. For this, I simply drove by some lovely old houses in St. Paul and picked one I thought looked a tish bit spooky. The angles of the house and all the various vanishing points meant one thing: way more planning time! Before I actually permanantly scratched lines into the board, I used white charcoal to draw the lines and double check angles. Here's an in progress for this one: 

And after way too many hours (I'd say at least 13), the finished product:

In my opinion it was definitely worth the time (and the hand cramps, since I essentially did the entire thing in one day) but I would warn you, it's not for the faint of heart or the impatient.

Pretty Music: Husky

This is an all around beauty. See them tonight in Minneapolis. I'll be there!

Toddlers and Tiaras

Happy Halloween (almost)! Here's a painting I did last spring, based on the regrettably popular TLC show "Toddlers and Tiaras." It's 3 feet by 2 feet on wood, so it's definitely larger than life. My intention was for it to be a commentary on the themes and values American parents are presenting to their children as desirable, and whether or not it's appropriate for their age. Obviously Toddlers & Tiaras is an extreme example, but that doesn't mean it isn't happening in smaller doses in our own houses. Additionally, what does the fact that we find such things entertaining say about us, as viewers?

Up next, "Here Comes Honey Booboo." Not seriously, but...I wouldn't rule it out as a possibility. There is nothing worse in my mind than watching a show, depicting genuine human beings, solely for the purpose of laughing at their "sad" lives.

Beware What Lies Beneath

My attempt to paint an octo-UFO. Is it sinking into the depths of the ocean or rising from the water, about to fly home? We shall never know. All a bit of silliness really.

The Street of Crocodiles

I enjoy finding stories within stories. The following drawings are based on words I pulled from the pages of The Street of Crocodiles.

his irritation was lost in a maze among his pillows, carved with distaste and his eyes spread over lonely monologues merged with smiling mouths, engrossed in his anger with ears.

he was himself only a wandering black void. we all felt that.

monsters, hissing greedily, would conjure up from nothingness these blind buds of tin branches, which flutter in the air, guided by ageless egyptian eyes.

we forgot him.

Existence

We are
This pimpled ill-conditioned
Mere excess of comfort;
Is this a dawn of a new state
Or a form of no touch torture?
For you will find we out trip
All praise and make it halt
Behind us - flaunting
Superiority even as we laud.

(So many words,
What I want but cannot say,
Come down on me at once.)

I need my pillow angel.
Ready to drop upon me
when waking, cry to dream.
Do I evade
The clogging of awareness?
Conscience.
Me:
A deeply superficial person.
I am or they are superficial.
I remain home dying my eyebrows
To measure them in inches.
Them: the metronome of society.
Flying smoothly
These depths of heights
A dream.
But shallowness deceives,
So we dumbly stare
Finding space measured
Not infinite.
The crust of our stance
Rings. Shatters
The ever opened eye,
Giving blindness, not light.
Shutting the shades.

I need never be ashamed
Though we are nothing
Longing nothing
Proud of ignorance,
For I am two with nature.