Tomorrow, Today

I've noticed a correlation between times when it's raining and the frequency of my blog posts. The same holds true for when I am ill. So today is double-trouble in that it is both raining am I am recovering from a bug. So I dust off the blog and take it for a stroll.

Dear Planet Earth:

You are beautiful. Everything about you is wondrous, down to the little weird things like dirt, mud, and rotting leaves. Even in your mundane aspects I can find merit. When I spend any amount of time amongst your splendor it never fails to leave me with a feeling of peace.

You are a good planet. I'm sorry we keep ruining you with all the horrible detritus of human civilization, things like oil spills and toxic waste to name a few. Let's never pretend for a second that our current way of life does not come with a cost.

We'll wreck your ecosystems on a whim if we think there's something of value that can be squeezed out of it. We cause extinctions. We are your most destructive biological inhabitants. Viruses ain't got nothin' on us. We're too in love with the sound of our own voices.

We're sorry. I promise we'll try harder from now on.

With all our love,

The Humans

Cafe Con Leche

Thanks for the comments from yesterday, guys. I started to reply there and quickly realized that it might as well be today's post. Anyway, here goes:

I agree with you both.

I've been thinking about it in terms of throwing and catching a baseball. Your brain is capable of making near-instant calculations for a throwing/catching solution, and then your body acts. Based on the subconscious velocity/distance math, it's a given that the ball will be launched in the correct direction with the appropriate amount of force*

I don't think much really changes if you stand there at length, thinking about "how" you'll throw the ball. Just toss it!

So yeah, I'd like to apply the same logic to aspects of living.

*That is if you've familiar with the baseball, surrounding environment, gravity, wind, ect. the object should still go in the right direction.


Anyway, I finished another Spanish exam this morning. It was a rough one, but I studied, so curious to see what the grade will be on that one.

After class I had nowhere in particular to be, so I walked with Mike and Olin around campus for a bit. I talked about the shape of my life these past few years, the convenience of attending/teaching in art school , and the paradigm shift that brought me back to these halls of learning.

It felt good to talk about art school. I remember everyone there always pointing to New York City and crying out, "This is where all the real important stuff is happening in the art world! How can you be on the cutting edge of culture if you're not there? What?-- You don't even make regular pilgrimages to the Mecca of Art to prostrate yourself before all that is relevant and witty? Bah! Begone, foul Ohioan peasant!"

If you haven't guessed, I'm happy to be away from that. Very happy. Even as we walked by Hopkins, where I could look up to the 4th floor and see the windows of my old studio, I knew I've made the right decision.

I still see myself as an artist. But as far as the Art World (captial "A", capital "W") is concerned, I am living off the grid with friends and family in a life that is much more challenging and rewarding. We'll just have to see where the art goes from here. We're invested in a lot of passionate, creative people.

Scribbles to Feed Your Belly

I feel like someone threw a switch this week that made everyone in my Spanish class become good friends. Three of us realized we have all at one time or another in ancient history played Magic: The Gathering, which immediately bound us together like blood brothers.

My family is getting together for more festivities this Memorial Day weekend. We may opt out though, since the drive down eats up a large portion of the day and leaves us exhausted by the time we get back to the city. Esther's hitting the road for her cousin's wedding in a couple of weeks anyway, so I reckon she deserves at least one weekend off from taking a trip.

Last night's bible study was entirely dedicated to our friend Holly giving a presentation about her proposed mission trip to parts of Asia. It was an informative evening but I was a bit disappointed that we didn't get down to having any real theological discussions. I need to know more about this Jesus fellow: What's he want with us? What's his plan? Why does the mere mention of his name evoke so much negative emotion from some people while others drive around with "WWJD?" bumper stickers on their cars? Do my friends, family, and colleagues think I'm lame for reading the Bible? Does Jesus think I'm lame for playing Warhammer 40k? Does he have a blog?

Here is Jesus.

Here is Christ.

Here is Sam.

The Strands

Last night in small group we were posed the question, "What is your life's mission statement?" and then went around the room with each person briefly rolling out their life philosophy. I was surprised by some of the responses, mainly because they confirmed what I had already suspected. It was the same validation you get from watching puzzle pieces slide into place, and made all the better because you realize you love these people for all the things that make them unique.

My wife's response was one beautiful sentence, "I want to help people." Wonderfully straightforward. Unrehearsed. From the heart. I admire her for that.

Meanwhile, various concepts race through my head trying to dredge up an appropriate self-proposed point of existence: rehearse, edit, rehearse, edit. Okay, got something. With my feet propped on the coffee table, I speak my heart:

"I've always felt that I was a leaf in the wind, with no real plan. Just experiencing life. But
now that I'm a Christian, I trust that there is an intelligence behind the currents, and I go where I'm sent with new purpose." Rehearsed, but still true.

I usually have a cup of coffee in my hand during group. It's my prop. I wave it in the air to make poignant gestures, or take a long sip to emphasize a point (also for hiding my expression when courtesy demands it). Not tonight though, drinking caffeine in the evening throws a wrench in my sleep schedule and these days every morning is an early morning.

Dark Paths and Something Bright

Today I wield procrastination like an aluminum baseball bat. And I swing wild, not really aiming-- the real aim is to exhaust myself before I accomplish anything of import. The bat feels good in my grip.

Inevitable that more marching orders are coming down the pipe, regardless of how much I fight. School is coming, one way or another, in a week. Thank God. Thank God for new purpose and a plan that points somewhere.

Like bouts of microsleep, my mind will glaze over momentarily throughout the day with the prospect that I have failed in some way, that my proposed career as an artist has died without getting started. My eye twitches in spasmatic protest, and the brooding evaporates.

In fact I am pleased with the course of my life. The relationships with my friends and family have changed, matured with a deepening bond as we all get older and a bit wiser. We helped our friends move over the weekend and I can honestly say the pleasure was all mine. Here's what the Bible has to say about friends:

Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for he who loves his fellowman has fulfilled the law. The commandments, "Do not commit adultery," "Do not murder," "Do not steal," "Do not covet," and whatever other commandments there may be, are summed up in this one rule: "Love your neighbor as yourself." Love does no harm to its neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law. -Romans 13:8-10

As a final thought, note the distinction between "love your neighbor" and "love your friend." Friends are natural and easy to love. Example dialogue between lifelong friends: "What's that? Why sure you can borrow my Ren & Stimpy DVD's, do you mind if I help myself to another cookie?" "Why certainly old chum! Go right ahead!" ---The real task before us is to love our neighbors, which is a way to say every other person. That's much more challenging; I've had to cancel all my complicated revenge schemes with this newfound faith.

Second final thought: That love-your-neighbor-as-yourself commandment doesn't say anything about trying to convert new proselytes every time you find yourself in a theological discussion with someone who has a different belief system. Instead, we should give each person the due respect and honor they deserve, and let them make up their own mind. By keeping God's commandments, your example makes following Jesus an attractive option, but let people choose for themselves. Religion is a lot like the balance between spouses in a marriage: unnecessary pressure creates friction and resentment, but mutual respect for one another's individuality and constant support make for a relationship that can only grow better with time.

OMG, I just blogged on religion. :O
Religious Blog Statistics
Capitalized God: 3
Angel Sightings: 2
Colons used: 7

Swim

I've been swimming on a regular basis at the YMCA since family and friends pitched in together to get me a membership for my birthday. It could well be my favorite thing in the entire world. Something about swimming makes me complete. You put me in the water, and suddenly I get it. Life makes sense.

I don't swim for the exercise. Well, that's not entirely true, but it's part of it. Although I can't help but notice some new defininition in my arms and shoulders, and experiencing the secret human glee that comes with getting into shape and seeing improvement.

But the real reason I don the swimming trunks and take the plunge every morning is the simple harmony involved. Mind, body, and soul unite for one purpose: locomotion in a suspension. The great secret is that real swimming is almost effortless. This isn't work. It's pulling oneself along in a weightless universe. Simple motion and peace. I recommend it to anyone. Can't swim? Learn to swim. Do yourself that favor. It's really pretty great.

Running on Idol

I've got to stop building these models. They are infinitely fun to make, and therein lies my problem. I'm afraid they snare too much of my time and energy. So while the end result is something very cool and unique, it still manages to somehow turn in on itself.

I find myself being coaxed into an ever-narrowing channel with each new project. Every time I embark upon some new feat, a little granule gets left behind and I fear I'm losing touch. Devoured by mediocrity: the worst way to go. And it's not about finding fame and fortune. Nor the praises of peers. This is about the talents we bury in the backyard. Things like true compassion, patience, sacrifice, and integrity. And that's just for starters, kiddo.

Remember that we are surrounded by idols to small gods.

Landscape Life

Nothing much to share today.

I am surrounded by a landscape that continues to reshape itself into new configurations.

The familiar and nostalgic reemerge time and again, combine with some previously unexplored terrain feature, fade into the distance.

Paradox: There is no reason to take a step in any direction because the world moves of its own accord. Or adversely, you wish to remain close to a significant landmark, in which case it is your prerogative to give chase.

Hopelessly, vigorously, I leap up a waterfall like a deranged salmon.

Musing on the Past

It's been two years since our last trip to China. Sometimes it feels like longer. I was browsing through our photos from the trip and found this instance where we're perched on the edge of a cliff with the monstrous hills of northern Yunnan Province looming beyond. My green-on-green earth-tone garb fails to camouflage me here (seeing as how the boldly-dressed lass at my side announces our location from miles away, but that's another matter).

So yes, I'm digging out old photos, feeling nostalgic, and getting a headache trying to remember the specific locations represented by these images. It's funny that I feel I've actually blocked out or forgotten a lot of this trip already. The pixels nudge me along, and I'm thankful for their existence. I don't take many relevant pictures on trips these days. Maybe I should get back into the habit.

On the tangent of habits, I've noticed that I could use some serious discipline in my life. I've always been too sporadic an organism-- like an amoeba on a sugar rush or some other equally random thing. It's a mode that served me well back in school: wake up early on Monday, go to school for twelve hours, come home, sleep; wake up late on Tuesday, go to school for two hours, come home, eat large burrito; wake up on Wednesday, go to zoo, ect.

Unfortunately, we humans get squeezed into all kinds of odd schedules. I worked for the company Randstad as a temp a couple months back. For that brief stint I was no longer a sporadic organism. I was mostly domesticated and on-time. I clocked in every morning at exactly 8am, save for one day that I was 3 minutes late and forced by a small-dwarf-type-supervisor-thing to fill out paperwork explaining why I was 180 seconds tardy. Interesting that the tardy forms took much longer than that to fill out.

No wonder those trips to China feel like they were so long ago. I think God's trying to break my pride with this exercise. 'Here, try some humility for size,' he says. 'It builds character.'

Hmm... I'll keep working on it. As things stand, I'm human.. and quite fallible-- a work in progress.

And so the open road beckons.

A Career in the Arts

Ever since I was a wee lad, barely old enough to hold a pencil, I have never stopped making artwork. It's what I was made to do, otherwise I would have given up long ago and pursued a career in boxing or some other respectable life dream.

Intent on seeing this art thing through, I went to college for six years, collected a B.F.A. in Art (Painting) in 2004 and my M.F.A. (Painting & Drawing) in 2006. Give me a paintbrush, charcoal stick, glue gun, or video camera and I could make you something nice.

So where am I now? Mostly unemployed, scrambling to make ends meet. I calculated today that it would take me selling a new painting or sculpture every month for $5,000 to break even with the costs of living. How, you ask? Galleries that provide shows for artists typically take a cut of anywhere between 50%-60% of each sale made. That would leave me with $2,500 to $2,000 per piece sold, not even factoring in the taxes taken out. My family's total monthly expenditure is in the ballpark of $2,200 a month. That's still cutting it close.

Even if it was possible to sustain such a remarkable turnaround rate as $5k worth of art a month, where does one find a market? I'd need to look in several cities. When a gallery and artist form an alliance, you can expect to see exhibitions by that artist once a year at most. Any gallery worth their salt would also prohibit the artist from showing in any other gallery within 50-100 miles of their location to prevent others from capitalizing on their investment. Fair enough, business is business.

Next, we look at the cost of exhibiting in other cities. Shipping artwork is expensive, and increases the likelihood that a piece will be damaged en route to a location. I imagine this is where it pays to have dear, true friends working in these gallery positions. I wouldn't have the time to drive the work cross-country since I'll be busy meeting studio deadlines and mailing out slides to new cities.

A person capable of showing and selling their work to such a degree has the potential to build a market for him or herself. With notoriety, one can expect natural cost increases to reflect demand. Here is where artwork prices are buoyed to ridiculous heights, and the wistful dream of hobnobbing within the high, dark bastions of New York City's art elite is realized. And who wouldn't like to be bourgeois? Most likely, this brief flare of popularity and its subsequent passing would be far too damaging to a human being. The rise and fall of an ego is a great and terrible thing. It may be better to live in obscurity than be contorted by such forces.

Another option available is to simply make the artwork and let everything else follow. If you could look into the future and tell me I'll never sell another painting, would I stop making artwork? I don't think so. Making stuff makes me happy. It sucks that I can't make a real living off of my work, but there are worse things out there.

Thanks for reading.

Contemplation

I think it's possible that my life runs in thirteen-year-cycles. At present I am 26 years old, that would put me on the threshold between the end of one cycle and the beginning of the next. As we all know, it can be a bit frightening to come to an end. What is the conclusion? Is there any net gain? What did I learn? Is it tax deductible?

I’m wondering how I measure up. Hindsight shows that from the age of 13 to 26 I've found a variety of ways to entertain myself. I’ve spent many of those years in school. I’ve eaten many strange and delicious things. I was an art instructor at OSU for a couple of years. The next year, I dressed “office casual” and worked a crap job scanning documents for a mortgage company. Those were the high and low points of my career, respectively. On the homefront, I’ve been married for two years, and I rededicated my life to Christ less than a year ago. All-in-all, I'm certain this cycle ends on a good note.

I'm sure that more interesting things happened, but there will be another time for musing about the past. For now, it’s time to focus on the next cycle of my life. There’s a lot I’d like to get done between now and 2021.

The Stagnation Lie That We Thought Up One Day

I'm done hemming and hawing on the topic of personal stagnation. I voiced it out loud today just to hear it filtered through my ears. (as this debate has been more internal than anything else) And it's crap. And I'm a crazy person for ever letting myself dwell on it. End of story.

Well, technically, "end of chapter" would be a more appropriate phrase here, as there are new challenges ahead. Vast clouds sail toward the horizon, and I dare myself to race them.

I look around the studio today and realize I've never actually stopped making artwork. Yes, the context has shifted, and you won't find much more substance than "Ooooh, pretty," but I thank the Lord for hot glue and sheet styrene because I'm doing what I've always wanted to do. I  thank the Lord for all the people in my life who push me forward. We're there for each other, and we love what we do.

Consequently, I'd like to thank the Lord for the gardening shears I use on a daily basis that simply refuse to break.

The Good Fight

I'd like to discuss the progress of my new war on Hedonism. I'm not sure it is going very well for me. The battle plan was simple: wean myself off of the diversions that serve no function other than "pleasurable distractions." In concert with this tactic, I had planned on devoting more time to building a dedicated daily routine of dutiful living. (that's a lot of D-words)

In this I have failed. My inner Hedonist has hijacked the motivation centers of my brain. These pleasurable distractions are too alluring. The Spear of Consequences lies broken at my feet. I have lost the Gilded Helm of Charitable Living. Why am I so irresponsible? Why am I lazy? God, help me. I want to make beautiful things again.

My New War Against Hedonism

I'm back from my vacation, and I have decided to declare war on Hedonism. It's a natural progression: vacation, and then war. It's time to start fighting the good fight.

Wielding the Spear of Consequences, and the Gilded Helm of Charitable Living I will cast down the bastions of selfish overindulgence and dedicate more of my time to aiding those in need.  

Hedonism is the philosophy that pleasure is the most important pursuit, and can be found here.