Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Funny thing about Christmas
My Christmas gift list is relatively short and simple, as far as Christmas lists go. The 'rents, the Twins, my friend's 2 daughters, and now my BBBS little brother. Not too bad, since none of them ask for much and most of them are fairly easy to shop for. Unfortunately, spending money on others makes spending money on myself that much easier. Almost subliminally, I tend to spend a great deal of money on myself around the holidays. Whether it be a new STi drive train for Scooby (Winter of 2006), or a pair of Fat Daddy 50-spoke wheels for Audrey (this coming Saturday), or countless other examples of holiday spending splendor, loosening the purse strings to give makes firing up my desire to receive that much easier.
I suppose this is one of the advantages of always being single at the holidays, I can count on others to get me the things I need and for which I have no desire to shop (i.e. clothes), while I go about spending the big bucks on the things I want most. Of course, I realize that engaging in such blatant materialistic indulgences is the antithesis of spiritual ascension, but I'll be damned if it doesn't become difficult, particularly when the gifts in question will end up being parts of the machines that go vroom.
Of course, I have to find a way to justify spending such ridiculous amounts of money on machine components I have no real need for. Luckily, I am not ever short on justifications. This year, my reasoning is that I have survived one of the most trying six months I have been forced to deal with in a long, long time. From problems with people, to problems with work, to the mountain that is school, to seemingly endless sources of stress, it's been a rough term. What do I have to show for it? A pervasive sense of alienation, physical manifestations of stress overload, and 4 more 4.0s.
Is it all worth it? Absolutely. If I can keep this up for one more year, I will have a genuine shot at graduating near the top of my class, which should go a long way toward redeeming myself in my own eyes for having wasted so many opportunities before finally embracing this one. If I manage to graduate at or near the top of my class, my odds of being accepted to SAIC, RISD, or Yale certainly start to look better. Some of my instructors are starting to take notice of my work and my confidence in that work is starting to grow, so opportunities to show may start to appear. I'm busting my ass, and work is doing its best to break my spirit, but persistence is essential in the pursuit of transcendence. After all, everything that troubles and soothes is temporary.
So I choose to reward myself for my persistence as a form of encouragement, the carrot before my horse, if you will...and even if you won't. The Fat Daddy 50s are gorgeous, laced wheels that give nostalgic bikes like mine just a hint of gangster. To be honest, the deal I'm getting on the Fatties is so good that I'd be a fool to pass it up, particularly since these are the wheels I have envisioned going on the bike since I first crossed paths with a picture of them back in May. Sometimes you just have to move when an opportunity presents itself and this is one of those times. Besides, no one else is going to buy them for me! lol
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Now playing: Ben E. King - Stand By Me
via FoxyTunes
Labels: Christmas, life, school
Monday, December 10, 2007
Wherefore art thou Optimism?
It is when we are in danger of giving in to hopelessness and cynicism that we are most free to rediscover possibilities. We are less constrained by what we believe we might lose, while being more focused on those things that carry real meaning. When the struggle to find external sources of hope becomes difficult, or even impossible, we must look within, and find a way to be our own engines of strength. We must find coping mechanisms, otherwise we risk being swept away. It is so easy to stand at the brink of giving up on humanity, and it seems more difficult to step away from that ledge all the time.
Whether we realize it or not, we all yearn to find a situation where we feel a sense of belonging. When we are not in that space, it is inevitable that our internal drive for contentment will begin generating subliminal pressures, which begin manifesting in the form of stress and malaise. Regardless of what our useless minds are telling us, our guts will make it known when things are right or wrong. Right now, things are obviously not right for me here. Sleep and I have not ever had a good relationship, but we are hardly speaking these days. Late to bed, early to rise gives a burned out drone red-ringed eyes. The idea of making a fresh start elsewhere is increasingly compelling to me.
So the rumors I have been hearing that another round of layoffs (this time referred to as 'outsourcing') might be on the way haven't distressed me much at all. In fact, the idea of voluntarily being laid off has become more interesting all the time. I spend nearly 8 hours in this office, and during those 8 hours I am filled with a desire to be somewhere else. There is so little reason for hope here that the situation has become pervasively miserable. My gut is generating so much pressure to leave that I am literally knotted up with tension. This place is a miserable world to be in right now.
Outside of work, school sits as a reservoir of hope, but I have very little affection left for my surroundings. Aside from family and a very few friends, there is not much keeping me here. There simply is not enough of what I am looking for to be had here. I want to be surrounded by people who inspire me to hope and dream, not to despair and surrender. So few people I know seem to have any strength or vision, I can hardly relate with their motivations. I feel as if my optimism is constantly under attack by a massive propaganda campaign that would have me believe life is about unfulfilling jobs, dysfunctional relationships, unmitigated self-interest, rampant materialism, and celebrity worship. Aspiring to anything more is a fool's errand and should be discouraged at every opportunity!
Obviously, I can't escape any of that through geography, I know that people are like this everywhere, but the real trouble is rooted in my struggles to escape within myself, or through my interests. The pace of my art production has picked up significantly, but the quality hasn't improved as much as I would like(of at all), so there is a persistent frustration that multiplies in and over itself. I love riding, but time, weather, and circumstances prevent me from riding as often as I would like. I write…probably much more than is necessary…but the relief is short lived, if there is any relief at all. I workout, but not as often as I used to, and I can feel the difference, physically and psychologically. In general, I feel totally uninspired by my current circumstances, so something has to change.
Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange
A walk on part in the war,
For a lead role in a cage?
Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd
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Now playing: Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
via FoxyTunes
Friday, October 12, 2007
One more class in the ledger
Still plenty to go, but for the night, I'm breathing a sigh of relief at having put one more class behind me. I'm betting that this will be another A for the transcript, which makes me smile inside and out. :) I'm really starting to understand just how much I missed by not going directly to college with the proper mindset. If youth is wasted on the young, wisdom is wasted on the old. We live and learn, at least one would hope that we learn, but it's a damn shame that it takes some of us so long to get our ships sailing with the wind.
I had a conversation last week with a husband of a fellow art student. We were attending my drawing prof's opening night reception, talking art, artists, and eventually philosophy. I'm assuming that anyone bothering to read this knows me, so you know how susceptible I am to philosophical conversation. Somehow the conversation rolled around to sailing, and we started talking about the personality types that spend their lives sailing against the wind, but in this context we were talking about people who waste massive amounts of effort to achieve minimal gains. Afterward, my sleep-deprived mind started working on itself and I came to realize that I have been one of those people most of my life.
My entire 20s were spent going upwind and getting virtually nowhere. Were they wasted? I guess that depends on who you ask. I have gone on about the could have and maybe should have beens before, I would be dishonest if I were to say that such thoughts aren't still lingering in my mind. Make no mistake, I am not bemoaning my fate(so to speak), or beginning to regret the larger part of my personal history, that's not what I'm on about at all. What I am talking about are the years spent ignoring life's beauty so that I might stare intently into its ugliness. All that time surrendered to the world's soiled inhabitants, working a thread of my own making into a blindfold covering all of my eyes. It's nothing but a shame.
We do such things to ourselves in the name of whatever emotional movement happens to be harnessing our youthful energy at the time, not ever giving due time to seeking our own true nature. So blind, ignorant, and enthusiastic, we stumble headlong into traffic. Is it any wonder so many of us are hit, ending up husks on the side of the road?
But tonight, at this ever advancing age, I'm 18 again, but this time, my eyes are open and I'm headed up the sidewalk for some pizza. If I were to return to the sailing metaphor, I would say that I am coming about, and that is only a matter of time before I put the wind at my back. Over 12 years on, and I am effectively hoisting the mainsail so that I can start sailing from the point at which I should have started. I suppose it's better than being miles off course, but it's certainly not as gratifying as being a thousand miles closer to paradise. Three more class to wrap up this term (Expressionistic Drawing, Painting Workshop I, and Visual Problem Solving), then we begin the final year of undergrad work. Hopefully it will be a beautiful journey. If nothing else, I'm old enough to enjoy the scenery.
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Now playing: Mad Season - Wake Up
via FoxyTunes
Thursday, August 09, 2007
I may end up teaching
Getting your Master's in Fine Arts is neither an easy, nor an affordable task. In fact, earning a MFA from Savannah is said to be a massive amount of work, and I know for a fact that the money is no trivial matter. That said, holding that MFA in my hands is exactly what I intend to do, so the money and the work will have to be expended. The thing is, a MFA doesn't go far in the "real" world, where MBAs are a dime-a-dozen and our soulless, corporate overlords scoff at the very idea of art having any value beyond wall adornments to be shown off to friends at dinner parties. Art, to most of modern America, is a joke, but that is more a statement on what a joke our supposed culture has become, than on the overall significance of art as a form of human expression.
So what do you do with a MFA? The first thing I plan to do is walk around and tell all of my friends that I have one. Next, I will have to start looking very seriously at teaching what I know about art to others. Now, it was not ever my goal to be a teacher, but after talking to a couple of profs with their MFAs, it is probably the most viable option for making a living and using the degree for something other than a conversation starter. After thinking about it, and a conversation or two with mom, I came to realize that teaching has its perks.
It can be steady work. In fact, my drawing prof has a steady flow of classes at Eckerd, as well as the Dunedin and St Petersburg Fine Arts Centers lined up for this term. Getting on staff full-time is a difficult proposition, but art is a flexible world and as such, one must remain fluid within it. The big bonus is, of course, Summers off. In my mind, this means travel. Assuming I find steady work at the collegiate level, I should be able to squirrel away enough money to evacuate Florida each Summer for parts of the world as yet unknown. I plan on hitting Europe next year, and am seriously thinking about a trip to Egypt in 2009. Beyond that, there is more Europe, perhaps a trip to Alaska, Australia, maybe even Hawaii someday. Who knows, that's the beauty of it. Each year I want to make it a goal to visit different locations around the globe.
At 30 years old, I'm nearly as free as most people are at 18. I have come to understand this as a gift from the Fates. They have given me a chance to live the life I should have in my 20s, but granted me an opportunity to grow in confidence and wisdom, so that I am now better able to understand and embrace said offering. No children to feed, no wife (or ex-wife) to check myself with, and no mortgage to pay. For someone who couldn't imagine surviving my teens while living them, I would have to say that I am in a fairly fortunate position. At 18, I was too busy wishing for the Big Sleep to bother planning for what was to come, and it cost me. The rest of the world has passed me by, and I waved with a smile as they steamrolled at breakneck speeds down life's one way highway. But in rushing past, they have opened up other avenues to understanding. They are out of the way, which means I'm free to explore the scenery that I might have otherwise never noticed. My 20s weren't a total waste after all.
I have to tell you, it's a nice feeling. The subliminal pressures to achieve standard benchmarks are totally gone now. Let the material and tangible measures of a life be someone else's problem. Of course, there will be a price to be paid, but if never marrying, or living a more traditional life, means I might be able to see the world, it seems a small price to pay. Scott and Laura have the repopulating-of-the-Earth thing handled, and honestly, I'm not sure this world has a use for any other examples of my genetic code. In reality, sacrificing that form of stability is the one potential downside. I'll eventually do all those important things, like paying 3 times my current rent for a shithole apartment that is exactly the same size, or smaller, than my current living quarters. I'll have a girlfriend to kick bruises into my soul from time to time, and might have a car payment again one day, but that's the extent of the concessions I am interested in making to modern conformity. If I am going to live a finite existence, I'll be damned if I am going to fill it up with ordinary. There's enough of that going around as it is.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Grass hopping
I am the grasshopper and I will freeze, should a truly harsh Winter ever come my way. That’s the conclusion I came to this weekend as I rode down to pick up my resurfaced backrest pad and passenger pillion. The bike looks great with its new seat and accessories. I will have to get a picture online sometime soon. Thirty years old and I have very little in the way of material worth. My income is above average, but nothing special, I own no home, no land, and have very little desire to purchase either. There is no real reason for me to nest, beyond the investment angle, but housing is such a questionable investment, in the long-term, it’s just not something I am interested in. I am the grasshopper, and I recognize that the ants may be wiser.
It turned out that my trip down to St Pete at 9:30am was to be the start of a relatively long day riding traffic in the unrelenting Florida sunshine. Once everything was bolted back together, I headed North toward Clearwater via Gulf Blvd and the beaches. Had to meet my professor, so that we could work out the terms of the independent study I will be doing this coming term. If I am going to be a functional artist, I have to find a way to be more expressive, so we outlined a course of action that should help get me there. It should coincide very nicely with the painting workshop I have this term.
Speaking of school, the aforementioned professor mentioned that SCAD had posted a job search seeking 12 professors in the St Pete area, which is great news, because that is a strong indicator that their plans to open a St Pete campus are further along than feasibility studies. Doing a Master’s degree there might be realistic after all. This was definitely a big of good news, given my previous thoughts on the matter. I would still like to get away from here, but not having to pick up and move would be a financial relief, as I could continue to finance my education with my current salary, which should allow me the funds I need. Doing my graduate work through SCAD would be ideal, so I’m really hoping it all comes together.
I would end up putting nearly 200 miles on the scooter Saturday, all of it spent riding traffic, and much of that in the Summer sun. By the time I went to Biff Burger’s in St Pete in the evening, I was starting to feel the effects of fatigue. For the first time, I felt the need to buy earplugs (because of the wind, not the exhaust, believe it or not). I will have to write about riding with earplugs some other time, as it changes the experience drastically. Leaving Biff’s, I made a wrong turn and ended up headed Southwest into St Pete, rather than West to the beaches, which had been my original intent. This little sojourn forced me to take the big slab 275 North and cost me an unknown amount of time. I had to take a break on the way, because of fatigue. By the time I rolled into the driveway, it was after 11:00 and I was spent. The new seat and backrest combination are awesome! Without them, there is no way I would have been able to put that many miles on. More and more, an Iron Butt ride to Key West is calling my name…
Being the grasshopper, I might just have to pack up and make a long weekend of it one of these days.
Labels: life, motorcycles, school
Friday, August 03, 2007
The plot thickens
Got a laugh at my own expense this morning. As noted in one or two my previous posts, I wake up each morning to the sounds of Fisher and Boy of the 97X morning show. A vast majority of the time, I give little or no attention to the subject of the moment, but this morning they were running a call-in contest searching for the oldest male still living with his mom/parents in the Tampa Bay area. Today’s prize was a pair of concert tickets to one of the larger shows coming to town…I can’t remember which at this point. Now, I’ve gone over the reasons for my living situation, so I’ll save the explanation/justifications, because the phone calls that began making it to air made any justification I might have irrelevant. As far as the world is concerned, these men are my peers, and in some ways, my people. The more calls they fielded, the more pathetic things became, but I couldn’t help but laugh.
The contest was inspired by an AP story about a 61-years old man who still lived with his mother, received an allowance, depended on her for his meals, etc. The calls start coming in and the bidding, as it were, starts at 27 years old. Quickly things advanced to 29, 31, 33, and so on. I had to leave for the office before the contest could reach its conclusion, but I’m guessing they found someone in their 40s or even 50s before wrapping up. I was taken aback at how few of the 30-somethings even paid rent, and they all seemed to be jobless. The 33 years-old didn’t even have a high school diploma. I laughed, because like or not, these are my peers. These are the men strangers will associate me with. Finally, I have a peer group! What a relief it is to have people I can relate to. :)
In related news, I’ve decided that I am going to do a Masters in Fine Arts, and that I am almost 100% certain that I will be doing it through Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD). I dreamed of taking classes there as a kid, and it seems reasonable to make that happen now that I am older and wiser. There had been talk that SCAD was looking for Florida facilities in order to open a satellite campus in the St Pete area, which would have been ideal, but that talk has since died down and things are now looking doubtful. This means a move to Savannah will be in order, should I decide to do my Masters there. USF has an excellent MFA program, but nothing like what is available at SCAD. The more I think about the possibilities, the more attractive the idea becomes.
SCAD is located in the heart of Victorian Savannah. The college has created something of a bohemian environment in which students of art can congregate and expand their collective understanding of what it means to be an artist. I’m told the area itself is beautiful, the residents being more Mayberry than Desperate Housewives, and the general vibe being more laid back, old-South, than sprawling metropolis. When I think about the possibilities, I get excited at the idea of getting away from Tampa’s vacuous ‘culture’ and diving into what sounds more and more like a tiny, artist’s retreat. Of course, the costs of getting a Masters at SCAD will be nothing short of exorbitant, but life is short, money comes and goes, and I’m bored with business anyway.
So my plan is starting to become more defined. First, I’m going to change my business major to a minor, thereby making it possible to finish my VA degree next Fall. By that point, I should have the Harley paid off. With a little luck, I will have six months or so of rent saved up, so that I can find a part-time job in the area. This means I will have to quit Nielsen…I’ll miss the salary, but not the work…and take out some student loans. The loans would be a nightmare and are the last thing I would actually want to do, but given the expense of attending SCAD, I won’t have a choice. With enough aid, grants, and assistance, I might be able to keep the costs from going stratospheric, but there’s no way I will be able to avoid digging a hole of debt, should I have to move to Savannah.
Bonus: Georgia has some awesome roads to ride on, I wouldn’t be too far from home, so weekend trips back to town wouldn’t be unreasonable, and I’d be away from the malignant nature of Tampa’s populace, which would certainly do my spirit some good. Ironically, it looks to be an almost sure thing that Scott and Laura will be moving back to the area, which means the twins would be nearby and I could potentially be moving away. What are the odds?! Hopefully, SCAD will come to St Pete and all of this talk of moving will be made moot, though I do have to admit that I would like to get away from here for a year or two.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
These things happen
Let's say you are on your way home from a get together for PEL visual arts students and staff in Saint Petersburg. In hopes of staying dry, you are skirting a Summer thunderstorm that looks as if it is on the verge of dumping a significant amount of water onto everything in your immediate vicinity. Maybe you lose track of which street you're riding on, but notice that signs for the interstate are pointing straight ahead. You follow said street to its terminus, in this case an interstate on-ramp. Perhaps this on-ramp is your desired destination, or mayhap it is the final access to a stretch of concrete leading you on a one way journey across 9 miles of bridge whose other end is the last place you intended to go on this particular outing.
So I'm riding over the Howard Frankland on an unplanned field trip to Tampa, cursing loudly into my helmet, and thinking of the middle-aged sport bike rider who left his soul on the Frankland's pavement a couple of weekends ago. It was a typical sport bike accident: high rate of speed+car=afterlife. Statistically, interstates and bridges are two of the safest places to ride, since there are typically multiple lanes of traffic, all headed in the same direction, with no intersections. But the Frankland, the Gandy, and the Courtney Campbell aren't just bridges providing convenient links between South Pinellas County and downtown Tampa, they are race tracks to those who are inclined to open the throttle and tempt the Fates.
There have been a number of sport bike accidents and fatalities on local bridges lately. On the one hand, it is a tragedy, because the people involved are typically young, though middle-aged men seem to be having their share of high speed physics lessons as well in recent weeks. On the other, it is difficult to feel sympathy for someone who was rushing along at a healthy 120mph+ in traffic on the back of a motorcycle. It becomes a "just because you can, does not mean that you should" situation, which can have catastrophic results.
Thankfully, I had no incidents going across. Along the way, I decided that the best plan was to take a trip back to Clearwater via the Courtney Campbell Causeway, so I hit Tampa, effectively turned right the feck around, and came back. Luckily, this one way ticket almost made the trip worth it, as the sun was about an hour and an half away from setting when I started out, so there was a golden sheen over the Bay waters, which looked almost azure through my sunglasses. The breeze was steady, everything had the smell of fresh rain, but the roads were dry, the temperatures were tolerable, and traffic was sane. I ended up riding over 20 miles East/West, and covering about 8 North/South. Not the most efficient way to get home, but these things happen.
I'm more convinced than ever that my seat needs a total rebuild. If I were 5'8" and stocky, it would be perfect, but I'm nearly 6'3" and long-limbed, which makes anything more than an hour in the saddle exponentially more uncomfortable, the further I ride. The seat goes for a custom rebuild and cover this coming weekend, so the bike will probably be down for a full week or so, but it will be worth it once all is said and done. My ass and lower back can't wait!
Labels: motorcycles, school
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Finally, some positive/non-emo thoughts
Found out that I officially picked up another "A", this time in my Principles of Marketing class. I didn't quite get maximum points, but I was within spitting distance. It was a ton of work, but the instructor was excellent and the class really was a learning experience. I enjoyed it enough to consider a job in marketing, which is something new for me. So far, so good, as far as the grades are concerned. I'm stoked that I've been able to keep my GPA where it is, but I'm worried, as this is only the 20% point toward completion in my degrees. There is still a long, long road to go. Can I keep it up, I think so. I'm really looking forward to finding out. :)
Labels: school
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Harmony
My drawing professor is an interesting guy. He's relatively young, 30-something, but is a combat veteran, long-time artist, and has competed in mixed martial arts competition. He is also a spiritualist, with strong feelings for the Eastern philosophical traditions. Needless to say, we have no problem finding interesting things to talk about. For instance, as class ended for the night this past Monday, the concept of peace came up. Art Prof proclaims that the idea of peace is ridiculous. Not only is it ridiculous, it is unnatural! Always being up for this sort of discussion, my curiosity was peaked, so I asked him to explain.
The gist of his idea was that peace, in and of itself, is an unnatural condition for any animal species. Nowhere in nature is there peace, as we perceive it. Ants are among natures simplest insects, but they are not ever at peace with one another. Ants, should they encounter a potential threat or food source, will almost certainly attack said threat or food source. This reaction is an instinctual act to better protect the ant's self-interest. After all, the fewer competitors he has to worry about, the better his chances of finding resources needed by the colony. His killing is motivated by a hard-coded instinct for self-preservation, which is ultimately serves to sustain his species. All through nature, similar violence and focus on self interest is present, from lion prides and hyena packs to lone sharks and dolphin pods. Nature is not made of peace and understanding. On the contrary, nature is often cruel, merciless, and always indifferent. Nature just is, nothing more, nothing less.
So if peace is an illusion, what is real? Harmony, was his reply. Harmony, as in nature will find a natural balance, a state of harmony, if left to its own devices. The interrelation of its various elements will be anything but peaceful. However, they will naturally settle into a state of harmonious balance. One species will feed off another, but the natural push-pull of population density will limit greed and gluttony. If they consume too much, the predators will starve, eventually killing each other for sustenance. Should the prey grow too populace, the predators will up their reproduction and kill rates, to regain the balance. Typically, a natural biosphere finds a settling point where there is balance and harmony throughout the food chain. Nature does not know any other way.
I knew where he was going as soon as he started and agreed wholeheartedly. Peace is impossible, and I think we all know it on some level. Man will always find a reason to destroy Man. This has been the way since the dawn of humankind. We will not ever know peace, as we are products of nature, but the higher price of our intellect is that neither will we ever know harmony. Ours is a species that has been out of balance for thousands of years, if not longer. A vast majority of our species cares nothing for balance. For most, it is not even a consideration, as its importance does not register in their psyches on any conscious level. Eating, drug use, exercise, nearly anything can, and inevitably will, be taken out of balance by people. It is a side effect of our ability to reason and rationalize.
Which leads me to the idea that our discord with nature is a byproduct of rational contemplation. Where nature shows us the way, we reason a way to somewhere entirely different, losing sight of the essential beauty in the natural order, thereby surrendering any hope for harmony. This is why many Eastern philosophers have referred to typical Western philosophies as being too top heavy, which is to say all brains, no gut. That second center of consciousness, or dandien, is an ancient, spiritual counterbalance to the brain's constant push toward the illusion of control. In Eastern faiths like Buddhism and Taoism, the brain is a processor of illusions and half-truths that spends its entire existence trying to convince the spirit that this world, this reality we experience with our physical selves, is all that the universe has to offer. In making this claim, the mind finds solace in an illusion of understanding, which breeds a sense of control and mastery.
Our brains constantly remind us that life is temporary, that the gelatinous mass floating in our spinal-cerebral fluid is Us. The brain and its accomplice, the mind, conspire to betray our spirits, forcing us to fear the temporary nature of this existence, thereby making us their slave, as their finite existence is all that we have. That is where dandien serves to restore balance. Dandien is a conduit through which our spiritual energy influences and attempts to balance the motives of our mind. In this way, the physical and metaphysical components within each of us interact. Theoretically, they would find their own harmony, and we would be at ease with ourselves, but in practice, the two are constantly giving and gaining ground. The idea of competing influences is prevalent through nearly all faiths and philosophies. The Yin-Yang is a good illustration of this duplicitous swirling, which explains its prevalence in Eastern doctrine and symbology.
Where am I going with all this? Isn't it obvious? I am not in harmony. There is no denying that I am incredibly top heavy, and I am not certain there is much to be done about that, at least willfully. I have been confused by some things lately, and have tried to give a more attentive ear to my gut, but I've found that I struggle to find any satisfaction, because my head continually gets in the way. I find myself having a hard time reading peoples' true intentions, so I assume the worst until given a reason to believe otherwise. Some of that is a natural reaction to the inherent selfishness exhibited by all people as we pursue our own interests. In that context, caution seems utterly natural to me, neither right, nor just, but natural. Remember that nature doesn't care about abstract judgments like right, wrong, or the gray between. Nature has no use for things like righteousness, honor, and justice. Neither, for that matter, do most people. And in the end, none of us can be perfect...we can't even get close enough to have a shot at holding it in our hands.
So how do we find harmony? We seek the balance. How do we do that? That is the million dollar question and the answers are all contextual. At this point, I would be satisfied with a little quiet time away from people on an abandoned beach. I'm not talking Robinson Crusoe, but a little Blue Lagoon would work for me, sans any human beings. People are such a struggle for me right now that an empty island with plenty of edible food and drinkable water would be totally refreshing! No one to criticize, to manipulate, to make demands of, or to obstruct my way. It sounds like a dream, like paradise. Obviously, this sort of thinking is fueling things like my desire for a motorcycle, and my decision to join the BBBS. I want so badly to find some good in this world that I find myself longing to escape even as I am driven to dig deeper in hopes of contributing some good of my own.
Labels: general, life, school, spirituality
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Working the Way
Goddamn have I been busy. Between the usual work and working out, I'm now doubled down on drawing projects each week. Pile on the weekly reading/project requirements for my marketing class, and I'm barely treading water.
I think I've come to the conclusion that hope is life's ultimate paradoxical concept. It can sustain us, or it can whither our spirits. The longer you hold on to hope, despite overwhelming evidence that it would be better to just let go, the more tortured the circuitous inner dialog you maintain will become. Then you run into people or circumstances that exacerbate the push-pull of your thoughts and what was already a disenchanting line of thought metamorphoses into something altogether melancholy and exhausting. What am I talking about? None of your business. :)
Today I'm grooving to Teddybears, an electronic band of as yet unknown origins (I'm too lazy to look them up). Cadillac made a commercial for their new XLR featuring Teddybear's track "Punkrocker", which includes vocals by Iggy Pop. To say the song is catchy would be like saying Iggy Pop is looking a little thin these days. Check the commercial below and tell me you aren't headed directly to your nearest torrent site for a quick download.
Looking at this spot with my limited knowledge of marketing, I have to say that it is a brilliant piece of audio-visual advertising. The track suits the imagery perfectly..."See me driving down the street/I'm bored with looking good"...and associating Caddies with maturing punk rockers is a stroke of genius. I wouldn't drive the XLR, but I will admit to liking the CTS-V quite a bit. Would I pay $50k for said sedan? No, but then I will have spent nearly that on my Subaru, once parts, labor, repairs, etc are all factored in. Something else to think about...
Aside from work, school, and sleep, my life has more or less ground to a halt. Things at the office continue to decline, as morale is at an all-time low and sinking fast. More work, less money, and sweeping change are stressing the entire department. We're still one person short, still training the new girl, and could potentially be losing another analyst to a field job...which of course pays better than what we are able to offer. The situation is becoming rather pathetic. Out of necessity, The Chancellor and I are bearing most of the burden right now, as we push to get New Girl up to speed. Who knows when we'll fill the empty cubicle next to hers. Fun stuff! It seems like only yesterday I liked my job and enjoyed going to the office...the only constant is change, I suppose.
Labels: general, life, school, video, work
Thursday, December 28, 2006
The cost of revolution
When World War II ended, a bunch of imperfect men came home to an imperfect country and started reproducing like rabbits. Eventually, those offspring would grow into their teens and reject a majority of their parents' value system in favor of the better living through chemistry/free-love approach to societal ascension. Of course, it failed miserably on most fronts. Where women's lib and the civil rights movement were positives, the abandonment of traditional values, rather than a progressive evolution and refinement of the old ways, was a total disaster. Forty years on, America is a drug plagued, crime ridden, divorce happy, sociological mess.
Sure, America was a sexist, racist place, particularly in South, in the 1940s and 50s. And those serious flaws needed addressing, there is no valid argument to be made otherwise, but it is HOW the ideas that led to those much needed social reform were abused and distorted in the larger context that ultimately derailed society. We're reaping what the drug-soaked 60s, hapless 70s, and greed-fueled 80s sewed.
Where the bad was discarded, as it should be, the good was also tossed aside, and we were left with what amounts to not much of anything. Society could have taken a turn and chipped away at rigid conservativism until it was something more tolerable, instead America threw away just about everything and tried to start over again. A 60% divorce rate and all-time highs in drug abuse, STD infections, and an ever widening gap between the wealthy and the "middle class" speak volumes about the success of said revolution. America got exactly what it wanted, a sex and drug fueled culture with a foundation made of selfishness and shortsighted social policy.
What started this whole rant? A discussion at the office this morning centered around modern relationships. Sometimes it doesn't take much to get me going. :)
On a completely different note, I finally got confirmation that I managed two more 4.0s this past term. With the visual arts side of my grade finally coming online and a class in the principles of marketing on tap, I'm optimistic that I can keep things rolling into Summer of 2007. We shall see.
I doubt I'll be updating before New Year's, so have a safe and happy one if I don't see you before!
Labels: life, relationships, school
Saturday, December 16, 2006
A quick tidbit
Apparently, Eckerd College is one of the top-20 "wired colleges" in the entire country, according to PC World magazine. I knew the library was wired for serous broadband and that they had coverage at each satellite campus (I've used the wireless a few times during classes in Palm Harbor), but it would seem that the place is loaded like few other schools in the USofA. Considering that East Lake High School had 2100 students when I graduated in 1995, it's pretty impressive to see a school with only 1200 resident students make this sort of list. There was a brief snippet about in the the St Pete Times here.
Also, my boys (and girl) in Murdok will be playing Jannus Landing tonight. If you're not aware, they are entered in the Bodog Battle of the Bands and will be competing for a trip to LA, along with a chance to compete for a $1m record deal tonight. Should be a good show. The below Myspace bulletin says it all:
Feeling down, spiritually lost, or sexually confused? Do your friends demean you? Has society tossed you aside like the contents of a 17th century bedpan? Fear not fair brother or sister, there is a place for you in this world amongst a people headed to a land of spiritual enlightenment and total joy. Where is this wonderland and who are these people?
Venture out to Jannis Landing tonight and witness the birth of a new era in human history, as Murdok (Kodrum for those reading this in a mirror...we know who you are and we will find you!) takes to the stage to invoke the powers of Zeus himself in their effort to rock your weary braincase with the scintillating sounds of kinetic magic that have created such whimsical poetry as The Bubble Gum Princess and "The Polka Song"! I ask you, who doesn't have a passion for polka? You must be there...
Do not miss this opportunity to be touched by the labia majora of God herself!!! Bask in the mucosal deliverance only a supernatural, vaginal cleansing can bestow upon you!
Doors are at 5:00pm. Murdok is scheduled to begin their sermon at 8:00. The Great Goddess will make an appearance at 8:15p, Great Labia of Goodness at the ready! Be there, or be somewhere else, brothers and sisters!! The Day of Reckoning has come! Join us and be cleansed!
Labels: general, life, music, school
Monday, December 11, 2006
What's irony?
An internet nudie girl with the word "Respect" tattooed about five inches above her exposed labia majora. Seriously?
Anyway, I had an unfortunate conversation with the New Girl at the office today. Strippers, I see them as tragically wounded souls unworthy of my money or my time, but most normal guys see them as the stuff dream fucks are made of. Nothing like a well worn, cocaine dried, heavily perfumed vagina to get a man's mouth watering! It's a sad truth, one that probably makes me look like a pathetic loser who rents a room from his parents so that he can finish up a pair of degrees about ten years too late, but in yet one more way, I am not up to average/normal guy standards. I digress.
The point is, strippers are empty, soulless women only interested in the money their clientele provide, in much the same way that their clients are only interested in the whorish fantasy that their naked, often drug-addled bodies provide. Some guys like to pay to be teased, a few like to ante up and get a little polish job in the VIP room, and a rare few will even go the full monty with a sleepover chaser. I didn't get the stripper thing at 18...in a society like this one, why the hell would you pay???...and I don't get it now, but then, I don't get anything anymore.
So I toss out a few clever zingers, some over the top condemnation, and a little bit of smartassery, just to amuse myself and anyone within ear shot. That's when the New Girl gets quiet. Now, I'm nearly positive she has never danced...not that she's not an attractive girl, she is, but she seems like someone who genuinely has her head in the right place...and I am not making a guy allusion to my lap, so get your fecking mind out of the gutter. But she got quiet after that, so I'm fairly certain I said something offensive...not sure if she had a friend who stripped, knows some strippers, or generally did not like my bluntness on the matter. At this point, it's no big deal, but I made a note to myself: watch the stripper thing.
Luckily, I am under no such obligation here. Now I understand that the money is great, the hours are short, blah-blah-blah, but seriously, don't most people see strippers as being just a rung above outright prostitutes? Am I the only one who sees this sort of thing as being just a rung above back alley blowjobs and cheap motel bang-busing? Is it crazy to think that stripping is about as morally justified as selling crack? For some reason, I think that I am probably devoting too many brain cycles to this sort of thing.
And maybe I'm just uptight. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the nude female form and I really enjoy sex, but I can't see paying to experience either of them. You can see naked girls for free, just log on somewhere and sex is everywhere these days...it's just a matter of having the right partner in your lap when the club's last round of musical crotch grinding stops. Why pay? And why should we show these sorts of people respect? Respect is earned, not given, and it can be lost as easily as it can be gained. I look at the girl who works two jobs through school, drives a 10 year old car the entire time, and sacrifices where she has to in order to achieve her goals as someone worth respecting. What about stripping is worthy of respect? And who in their right minds respects an internet nudie girl who tattoos the word respect on herself?
More important questions have never been asked.
On a positive note, I just got an A in my stats class, which made the day worth struggling through. I'm guessing that another A in my Environmental Perspectives class is to be expected, but I won't know until Thursday. Scooby is alive and WELL these days...complete with 6 forward gears, instead of 5...I like. :) The supplies list for my forthcoming double art class arrived last week and it looks like the term is going to be very interesting. Perhaps I will do some modeling, though I would have to on high alert at all times...you never know when one of the ladies in the class might go wild and ravage me right there in front of everyone! It's hard being a moralist and so damn sexy...but it is my burden to bare. Don't believe me? Just check out my Myspace...hell yeah, dead sexy.
Anyway, that's it for now. Back later...
Labels: life, morality, school, strippers
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
About those travel plans
I’ve decided that a trip to London and Paris in 2008 is in order. Eckerd has a term abroad requirement as part of its international business program, and I had been looking at doing a week in the Bahamas to fill that spot in my course list, but the visual arts program’s academic advisor mentioned that I could knock out an art history, my global perspectives, AND a term abroad with the classes tied to this Euro trip. The choice became obvious, and two weeks in London and Paris are now the thing.
In some ways, this trip will be a reconnaissance mission. The feeling that I need to get away from here for a while has become a pressing one and I have been rolling around the idea of living in Europe for a couple of years, post-graduation. My understanding is that Europeans are every bit as commercialized as modern Americans, and that the moral social fabric is stretched even thinner there, but none of that is really a problem, since I wouldn’t be going for the people. It’s the history that draws me. I want to see the castles of England, the Louvre in Paris, and Rome’s ancient architecture. I would love to see the work of Michelangelo, Da Vinci, and Bernini up close and in person. Seeing a Formula One race at Monza or Monte Carlo has long been on my list of things to do.
Basically, I want to see all the places I have read about my entire life. The US has become this spiritually vacant, morally crippled, socially divided, generally unpleasant place to be. Maybe getting away for a while will help me rediscover the good in living here. At this point, I’m no longer sure. It may be that I move away and stay abroad, only coming home to visit friends and family. There is so much world to see, and so little time for seeing it, I’m afraid I might have already spent too much time in one place.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Getting back to being an art geek
There was a time, back when I was more depressive than aggressive, that art was my thing. It was my therapy, my pastime, my constant companion, and one of the few things that I was absolutely sure that I could count on. Of course, it was also one of the things I took for granted. Which made my slow drift away from the graphic process that much easier, in hindsight. It was always something that came easily, but it was also something I did not properly pursue and explore. Like a long-term friendship that had been neglected, my ties to art eventually weakened and nearly disappeared altogether.
That's changed over the years. I came to really miss the creative sequence...the sporadic moments of inspiration, rouging out sketches, refining the image, the fits of start and stop...more or less everything that comes along with actually creating something. And it is no revelation, the idea that creating or building something is a magic every human can appreciate. We are most fulfilled when we are engaged in positive, constructive processes...it's a universal truth, regardless of what the cowardly cynics and stunted souls have to say. When you discard all the distractions, all of the mundane, disposable bullshit, you are left with the things that give weight to our souls and make our eyes yearn to be open. In my case, that is art and the creative process. I decided some time ago that it was time to get back around to taking care of that itch.
Art is one of the few constants in our species' erratic history. From ancient humanity's cave paintings through the Renaissance to our modern "culture", artistic expression has been with us from the beginning. It's a shame that there is so little value put in it today, but I think that is more a commentary on modern society than evidence of art's actual value. After all, how much credibility does a society like ours really have where value judgments and worth are concerned?
I met with Lin Jorgensen, the academic advisor for Eckerd's PEL Visual Arts program, this morning. She is most definitely an enthusiastic, invested artist. I have always enjoyed artists, because in some ways, I have always understood them a bit better than most people. I wouldn't classify myself as an artist, but I would one day like to. So I registered in two art courses next semester, which should counterbalance the two business courses I will be taking. The soul's expression and the soulless, balanced against one another. That works for me, to be honest.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Time keeps on ticking, ticking, ticking...
All of Scooby's drivetrain components have been ordered. They should be here the third week of November, or so I hope. Some of the bits have already started arriving, which makes me eager as Hell, despite the hefty payout. Step 1 in my 2-part plan for street driven insanity is now half complete. It is only a matter of time...MWAHAHAHahahahaaa.
Right...so anyway, school is going well. The Stats class has turned out to be much more enjoyable than I had previously thought. This week's "assignment" was to head on down to Neiman-Marcus, have a look at the Philip Stein timepieces, ask a few stats-related questions, and grab some documentation. For those that haven't heard, this watch is supposed to be something of a miracle. Supposedly, it acts as an electromagnetic field sink, meaning it pulls electromagnetic(EMF) field energy out of your body, when worn. Why is this a benefit? Well, EMF energy is bad for you, apparently, and the Philip Stein Teslar line of watches are exactly what you need to protect and fortify your well-being against this invisible killer!
According to the pamphlet entitled "Life, Electromagnetic Energy and your well-being", which published and distributed by the watch line's manufacturer, electromagnetic fields have been linked to Alzheimer's, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and even Cancer. I wasn't aware of this, but it is in print, so it must be true! Needless to say, I was eager to try one on and see how they felt. To be honest, the models I looked at were very nice timepieces. I especially liked the blue-faced, stainless stell, chronograph with stainless steel band. It felt hefty and solid, which is good, because I would want to feel like I am getting a fair amount of metal when I spend $1500 on a watch. The cheapest watch I tried on was $1000, the most expensive was just under $3000. They were all very nice, not Rolexes, of course, but more than nice enough for this prole.
Since the beneficial effects of the watch are only apparent after an extended period of use, I can't speak to the power of their EMF absorption. What I can talk about is the "cellphone demonstration". Apparently, this is the demonstration that made the watch famous and got it featured on Oprah (who owns every female face combination available, according to the helpful folks at Neiman-Marcus). What the salesperson does is have you stand with one arm extended, and other hanging at your side. They then proceed to press down and tell you to resist. Empty-handed, I resisted pretty well. You are then instructed to pick up your cell, holding it in your off hand, while you extend the other arm again. The salesperson presses down again and this time I was unable to resist the pressure at all. I was skeptical, but curious at this point. He then had me pick up one of the Philip Steins, while still holding my cell in the opposite hand. This particular watch was a round faced piece, rimmed in diamonds, that came in at about $3k. Of course, when he pressed down this time, I was able to resist easily. It must be magic! Or not. I'm thinking this is more a demonstration in leverage than a demonstration of the effects electromagnetic fields have on our body.
During the empty-handed demo, he pressed down on my extended arm near the area where the forearm meets the elbow...a little short of halfway down my forearm, biased toward the elbow. Next time, when I was holding the cellphone, he was much closer to my wrist, putting my shoulder at a greater disadvantage, mechanically. Did I mention that each time my arm was extended, my thumb was pointed down? Well, it was. Finally, when I was asked to hold the Teslar in my extended arm, his hand was much closer to my elbow, giving me back a lot of leverage. I didn't call the guy out, but I definitely made a mental note.
If you're curious about the brand, I recommend checking it out for yourself. They are stylish, with a bias toward classic, rather than trendy, and the cellphone demo is worth a go. If nothing else, you could confirm my observations about hand placement and start a debunking movement on the web. Or not...
So things are going well. I'm feeling good physically, staying focused mentally, and perpetually working on the spiritually. Good times...