blastedgoat

the window glows
a blizzard blows
the t.v. snow
obstructs my view
you lay beside me
a cat indents my pillow
i hear strange storms
thunderous snow
expecting 13 inches
in the morning
a cold snow globe
we are shaken & covered
with sparkling confetti 
death is beautiful
winter is a parade
of freezing white beads
when the eye closes
mesmerized by static

I attended the Vets for Freedom Iraq war forum in order to learn from
the firsthand experiences of those who have served in the military. I
feel it is important since being a soldier is a completely different
experience from my own. I’ll admit to being a little bit of a dreamer.
I hold signs at peace demonstrations and talk to members of the
community who are against the war. I felt strongly against the war as
a high school student. I was harassed by classmates when I wore a
homemade badge bearing a peace sign and the words “Don’t attack Iraq”
in the days following the President’s decision to invade. I felt this
war would distract Americans from real crises facing our country such
as education, health care and morale in general.

Who knew we would still be fighting a war based on lies, even after
those lies were exposed? In these five years, I have seen friends put
their lives on hold in order to serve their country. While I can’t
understand their decision, I respect and admire them. I support our
troops, and I don’t feel supporting them means I have to support the
war. They fight so we can “peacefully assemble” and exercise other
freedoms assumedly given to us as American citizens.

I was inspired when I heard the words of fellow student, Ranya Ahmed.
Ranya is Muslim and left her home in Bahrain to seek an education in
the United States. I have always wanted to study abroad and have a
great appreciation for interactions I have been able to have with
people from other countries. Ranya spoke on the pro-war side, which
had only two voices, compared to five voices supporting the war. She
was raised in a mixed religion family, her father being from Iraq and
her mother, from Saudi Arabia. Ranya spoke to the horrors she had
witnessed first hand, volunteering at a hospital when she returned
home. She admitted that it is “hard to see” but she has seen and
treated their wounds. The problem is, war doesn’t only wound those
involved, it kills them. It kills them in numbers that quite honestly,
I can’t register. I cannot fathom 4,000 American deaths, it makes me
sick, sick of war and sick of people who want to keep losing lives for
‘100 years.’ Read the rest of this entry »

In the deadest dream of winter does all
descend in slow motion? Snowflakes
suspended in midair, wood creaks
as frost clings to branches. Life hangs
but from a spidery thread. Drops of water
freeze to gems plummeting toward
solid ground. A tiny leaf trembles;
still connected by a slender stem,
it snaps in two– the leaf floats
away, a staggering ghost.

This play was performed in an intimate setting that caused the line between audience and action to blur. The action of the play was situated so that everyone had a unique perspective. The seating mirrored the v-shaped stage that was set with a piano, table and numerous rocking chairs. Everything was strikingly monochromatic. The whiteness of the character’s dress and surroundings did not always suggest a pristine world with pure figures gave off the air of dinginess.  The set had a certain amount of fluidity to it; this made the play artificial but it was balanced by the “reality” of servants working behind the scene like little mice, cleaning up after everyone. It was necessary to move the set around by people who seem connected in some way to the action. The space is “magically” transformed several times throughout the play which adds to the feeling that time has passed. I found the contemplations of the characters and their conversations with each other to be interesting. I noticed similarities between this play and Chekhov’s last play The Cherry Orchard which are both preoccupied by the deteriorating wealthy class in Russia as well as the passing of time. Russian literature to a large degree is about suffering but also learning from suffering if you want to survive. Overwhelming emotion and lack of continuous action on stage might have annoyed some people but I don’t mind listening to people talk, as long as they are talking about something interesting. I found the to be very much so and could tell the actors were submerged in their roles. I loved the leaves in the last scene which were symbolic of the approaching coldness of winter. The falling leaves also foreshadowed the death of the Baron and gave it finality. What was supposed to be happy ended on a sad note but the characters are strong and go on. Music is essential to Russian culture and its presence throughout the play emphasized that cultural difference. They sing, they experience loss and they live on to see more winters, more suffering, more death. I was impressed that the production was able to pull off a play as grim as this one with a cast of such young actors. Their ages certainly clue the audience into the sense that the scene is entirely constructed; as did the strange hanging lamp in the bedroom. What was so impressive to me was how they captured their characters quite well and presented the heavy themes of Russian literature in a fairly believable way.

Sticky vinyl backseat bomb
pops: bedroom fireworks
seen from a two-story window…

In the last week I have discovered that bad luck comes in streaks, but so does good inspiration. That might not always be a fair trade but I’ll take whatever I can get at this point.

I am supposed to be talking about the lecture on political illustration, and I will, because it was one of the highlights of this semester and it has been one small piece to a larger puzzle I have been working out for the past few weeks. After dealing with some car trouble I decided it was time to get down to business with finishing up my graphic design materials. I typed a mediocre review of the lecture; focusing on the unveiling of the Ralph Steadman painting. I left my computer for mere minutes, resting on the kitchen table and returned to find the screen black with a white blinking line in the left-hand corner. Unfortunately nothing could be done, nothing can be saved or salvaged and I am devastated now that my $1000 investment only lasted two of my four years in college. However, I am not completely out of the game, I had a lot of things backed up, including copies of all my graphic design problems including the old version of my website, of course. I feel horrible for handing in things that are unfinished but I know I must hand something in, if I get a bad grade I will just do better next time, and I still have the experience each problem taught me so I am trying not to stress the small stuff. Things happen.

I thought of typing this assignment on my new typewriter, which is actually my used typewriter that I picked up at Goodwill the other day for $4 but it’s new to me. I figure it is a safer investment than my $1000 hunk of junk Toshiba laptop that is now a dusty electronic paper weight. These things should upset and unravel me, and I would have let them if I had not discovered something else this semester.

I didn’t discover Ralph Steadman or Hunter S. Thompson this semester but I did start reading of a lot of Thompson’s writing and even turned in a paper (which I suspect I might fail) that I wrote in Gonzo style. Seeing the Steadman reminded me why I came to college, to see things, see and learn things I couldn’t learn on my own. This semester taught me that I must learn them on my own. I am paying to wake up early and go to classes (some of which mean little or nothing to me as a person or an artist) why do I need these classes? I wondered this for a long time, and now I have the answer. I do not need college to learn, I can learn on my own if I am interested. I need college for guidance and experience and to help me learn and see things that I might have never known existed. I want to be a writer, you can’t teach someone how to do that. I won’t say you are born to do it, it doesn’t work that way either, you have to want it, really want it. I am going to more actively pursue writing and art in my daily life, having it drilled into my head by teachers isn’t working for me anymore, I have to pursue it, make it what I do, constantly. I want to thank you for your instruction and patience with me while I have come to some realizations and revolutionized the way I approach learning. I have been lazy in the sense that I am paying for this education, I am paying a lot for it. It is time to make the best of it. Read the rest of this entry »

Introduction to the Form and the Power of Music
While most of the music video world is concerned with the promotion of a song some directors consider their creations artistic endeavors. Music videos are short enough to have an impact yet long enough to allow for the construction of a coherent story. There are components every music video must contain but there are countless paths a director might take to achieve balance between promotion of the artist and expression of the music. The meaning of a music video or “promotional film” resides in the combination of music, lyrics and images. There are roughly two categories they tend to fall into: performance and conceptual. I will focus on conceptual videos that implement techniques found in “legitimate” films or make a statement beyond that of shameless self-promotion. I will present videos that cross the threshold of “trash” and enter into something much deeper.

Great music videos have the capability of provoking responses much like a great films might and are becoming increasingly accessible in the technological age. The history of the form is interesting as it pulls from many traditions and techniques of filmmaking. Modern music has gone beyond the world of “music television” and onto the internet. Some music fans want to do more than simply view the video; they embark on an artistic endeavor of their own by creating “fan-vids.” Homemade lip-synching videos have also become popular recently and are part of a growing trend of viewers that choose to manipulate images and music to create alternate videos for their favorite songs. Many fan-vids feature popular songs and clips from t.v. shows or anime and have caused various copyright issues on video sharing cites like Youtube. Much of this insight can only be gained from a long love affair with the form and a few copyright issues dealing with videos uploaded on my own Youtube account. Through studying the roots of video making I have gained a greater appreciation for those music videos that inspired me as a teenager and got me through a difficult time in my personal life. I will provide links between my experience and what I have learned this semester to show the merit of several so called “promotional films.” Read the rest of this entry »

I wasn’t upset by the ending of the play, it was more fun watching the reactions of people who clearly were expecting something else. The murder was subtle at first, the music added to the creepiness, the lighting especially added to the mood. A few individuals snickered and someone who was really confused blurted “Is she dead?” I enjoyed the “slow motion” sequence which combined exaggerated actions with pulsating rectangles of colored light. The fact that the lighting became to unrealistic at that moment emphasized the artificiality of the play and elaborated the ridiculousness of the plot itself. I try to imagine what went into making the set and am always looking for mistakes. I listen and watch for missed lines or cues, and any set or prop malfunctions. I don’t do this because I like to complain about every little thing but because those things are part of the experience of live theatre. The directors I have worked with stress that if “you can see the audience, they can see you” which isn’t always literal but it serves as a reminder that you must be alert at all times and fully submerse yourself into your character or role. I watch for actors that merely “deliver their lines” as opposed to those who genuinely interact with others.

I liked the quirky story of a song-writer zookeeper with a crazy a wife named Bananas and a girlfriend named Bunny who nibbles on a large carrot she pulls out of the refrigerator. The song Artie wrote in the tune of “White Christmas” reminded me of the songs from a play I was in during my junior year in high school. It was a comedy about a musical called Sing On! In the play a group of actors and technicians put on a musical written by an untalented, overbearing playwright named Phyllis Montague. All the songs in the “fake” musical were reworked tunes of Stephen Foster with lyrics by her equally untalented nephew, Monte Montague. The musical was about Queen Elizabeth, the supposed virgin Queen of England and her rumored “affair” with Lord Essex. At the end of the musical within a play one of the two actresses who play the role of Queen Elizabeth in the play has a baby just offstage prompting Phyllis to do a quick rewrite of the finale song. The whole cast and crew celebrates the birth of Violet’s new baby boy with a song to the tune of “Camptown Races“. From memory I can still recite the last few lines:

Though Queen Bess insisted on less sex, Essex,
told her single life’s no fun, let’s be a pair,
‘Cuz if they didn’t share, the royal line stops there.
So they decided they should have a son…

Well, you get the idea, I still remember quite a bit of it six years after I was in it, probably because it was such a strange play. I think those are the kind I like the best and The House of Blue Leaves definitely fits into that category.

Abbot, Rick. Sing On!: A Comedy about a Musical, Samuel French, Inc., 1991