All This Spying Hoopla

This whole subject I have kinda stayed way from. Mainly because I don't really know which way to go on it. I don't naturally align with every right wing concept. I don't always go blindly into fire at the request of my govornment. My days doing that are over (Marines). However, I get really apprehensive when I listen to the left, or any of the liberal and especially the social democrats views. Neither side has convinced me. ANd usually in that case I feel the need to just keep it as is until such time as I can be convincingly swayed. One thing I know is this. The constituion, the Bill of Rights, all of our early documents, had one underlining and important characteristic in their design. Do not leave the trust soley up to the govornement. Make sure the people can always stay in control. So far, according to all evidence I have seen, which is not necessarily all of it, there have been very few cases of the FISA courts turning down requests for wire tapping. so that makes me wonder what the need is for the President to have to bipass the courts. It will be interesting to listen to the State of the Union Address tonite to see what President Bush says.

Broke Back Oscar's

Are you kidding me? 8 Oscar nominee's? Now I Admit, I have not seen Broke Back Mountain yet. I am waiting for it to come out on DVD. Primarily because it is too political a film. I did the same for The Passion, and For Farenheit 911. These movies are important movies, This I do not dispute but to go see them in the theatres, seems to say that you support it some how. And I did not support either of those afforto mentioned movies. But the question I have is, wether or not this movie truly is the "Best Picture" of 2005? Was Heath Ledger the "Best Actor" of 2005? Not even close. Now I know some people might challenge me and say that I am only disagreeing based on the fact that some are calling it a "Gay Movie". Well, the people that really know me know that I do not care about such trivial matters. I have many gay friends and they surely know that I support gay rights. However, I believe in a bigger picture that Holly wood is trying to create here, in the fact that politics has now entered into the Oscars like never before. It seems to me, that the Academy cares little for quality, and more for impact, the mainstream big name nature of this movie has enough momentum of its own to officially open the gay niche to mainstream. It doesn't need the help of 8 nominations. I only hope it does not recieve all 8. It most certainly will recieve some, but hopefully the hard work and talent and creativity of the other movies that used the old tried and proven methods and stoylines will recieve their due as well. Another example of how "anything is art" except the old stuff. Once again, it is only in pushing the enveolope that "true art progressess" (catch my sarcasm)

Why Drive Alone dot com...

I am not against what these guys are trying to do, per se. It is just that I really like driving. I like driving by myself. I like being the master of my destination, I like the radio set to my stations, I like my unused passenger seat filled with my crap. I don't have to listen to people struggle to create a conversation out of thin air because they feel the need to hear their head rattle, or they are to uncomfortable with silence to just sit there. Actually, I am one of those that hates silence, But I love the freedom of blasting my Tupac, or Aerosmith, or Michael Jackson ( yes I said Michael Jackson, I don't know, when I was 8 years old, he really seemed to speak to me, when he sang, "your butt is mine..." it was all over , I was hooked and still am.). Any ways, That is why I drive alone. Seems like another socialist propaganda to make the "have's" have to share with the "have nots". Main reason I like to drive alone... Cuz I can!!! and here is a good place for non believers to start looking at to start their conversion process.

Going to Hong Kong.

This Morning we are getting the last bit of things done before our big trip to Hong Kong. I got a new suit that is phat. Sarah is getting a new dress. While we are out we are going to go see King Kong finally. We have been trying to see that movie since it came out. I have to get a hair cut, we have to look for a larger memory card for our digital camera, and maybe an extra power pack for my DVD player, assuming it works in Asia. We also have to clean up the house; Sarah does not like leaving with a dirty house. We leave in 3 days. Work has allowed me to go and I spent the last month and a half working extra so that I could make up for the twelve days I am missing.

Dumb Drunk Guy

So tonight I was on my way to my meeting in Spanaway (which in and of itself is a feet of danger and daring, that are of Puget Sound is quite rundown) and I was pulling up to an intersection. As I was doing so, I noticed the thunderbird in front of me weaving left to right on the road. I really didn’t think much of it, thinking that perhaps he was just changing a CD or answering a cell phone. You know how we all can get a little wobbly while we are answering our phone, changing our CD’s, and drinking our Latte’s all at the same time. But when the light at the intersection turned red, this dumb ass did not stop. In fact he plowed right into the car in front of him. This happened right in front of me and I waited to see the drivers get out and start to do the routine of exchanging info. But it was then that it dawned on me that this guy was toasted out of his gourd. This thought was enforced by the guys in the car behind me who mentioned that they had already called the cops on him when he rear ended someone else earlier in the night. Then suddenly, the girl that was in the car that was hit, shouted not to let him get away. This guy actually had the nerve to try and drive away. The cops had just shown up right as the thunderbird swerved out into the other lane and took off! The cops hadn’t realized this, so I jumped in my truck and chased after him, but unfortunately, I lost sight of him immediately because I was trying to make sure I didn’t hit any one else, and obey the lights. But the story has a happy ending, for as I was turning around and heading off to my original destination, I saw a cop car speeding past me in the direction of the thunderbird. Another drunk off the road.
I don’t really know why that is such a big issue too me, but I hate drunk drivers. Admittedly, I myself drove intoxicated once when I was in the Marines. But I was so scared, and so un-able to stay in control of the vehicle that I never did it again. And I had enough sense to eventually pull over into a super market and walk the rest of the way to the barracks. I retrieved my car the next day. Every time I hear of friends doing it, I chastise them for it; I certainly let it be known that I do not see that as responsible behavior. There are a lot of things that are funny, and childish, and irresponsible, yet don’t harm anyone. Sitting around and laughing about how tanked you were driving home one night is not one of them. Any how, that was the excitement for the evening.

Challenger, 20 years ago.

I can't believe it has been twenty years ago. This even was the first tragic, and traumatic event I ever witnessed. I was in the 5th grade. One of the very popular 6th grade instructors invited us to his class to watch the shuttle lift off on his old ass TV. His name was Mr. Piper. He taught my little brother, my uncle (12years my senior) and my mom. And he started at that school when my grandmother still worked as a receptionist there.
Anyhow, he had this ancient TV, and he would allow his students to watch current events sometimes. As a kid the challenger was my favorite shuttle. I used to draw pictures of the challenger all the time. In fact the earliest memory I have of drawing is those pictures of the challenger. I used to, like most kids, think that space travel, and space ships were the coolest thing in the world. And I sat with my eyes glued to the TV at the awesome display of force as the behemoth shuttle was engulfed in smoke as it began its slow ascent away from the space station. And I watched with incredibility as it went faster and farther up into the air.
Then without even understanding what was going on in front of me, it burst into a ball of flame and smoke, and i watched stunned as the two booster rockets shot off in crisscrossing paterns. The shuttle had exploded.

I dont really know what kind of impact that had on me. I know that I feel sad now, and I know I never drew a space shuttle again. 20 years, man,

Barstow Guy Makes it Big!!

SO I found out from the old man a couple weeks ago that an old high school aquaintance plays proffesional football. And it turns out, that he is quite the up and comer in the NFL. His name is TJ HOUSHMANDZADEH and he is a Wide Reciever for the Cincinnati Bengals

Revolutionary Swimwear!!!!

One thing to say:

"Honey, Does this swimsuit make me look fat?"
"No Dear, your Fat makes you look fat."

Don't Pass Gas!!!

What the heck is this . Is this for real? You have got to be kidding me. Maybe I am slow, but are they refering to actual farts? or is this some weak analogy to get people to quit smoking? I read the brochure that they provide, and I am now convinved it is about smoking, but what a lame, and ineffective ad campaign.

How in the HECK do I get back in Shape

I have been slipping further and further into a state of unhealth. When I was in highschool I used to run Cross Country and it kept me bone thin. Never drank soda, never ate carbs except on the night before a big race. After high school, I went straight into boot camp, where I actually gained weight (muscle) and got out of boot camp weighing in at a fierce 145 lbs. at 6 foot 1 inch, that is pretty skinny. 3 and a half years later when I got out of the Marine Corps. I had only gained 20 lbs.
But in the period of the last six years I have ballooned steadily upwards to 250. Now I know that the numbers aren't what is really important. But I still use it as a gauge since I feel tired just going up my stairs at home. With my busy schedule, and my work where I just sit all day in front of a computer, I have had a hard time burning the fat, and building my endurance back up. I love running, I hate wieghts. I love hiking, swimming, walking, inline skating, and biking. But just have not been able to work out a routine that includes excersice. I might have to wait until this current project at work is done and then implement some new routine at the begenning of the next project. At any rate, that is what is up for me this morning.

Digital Art 2

And now a few more images. The first one is more of a joke at work. While animating a deer, it became my nemesis, since animation is a new field for me it is extrememly stressful. I am up to the challenge, but only because I can make shit like this to vent. It is 3D, which is why it is so stiff and blocky, we work very low poly. The textures are very small also, which is why it is so pixilated, but I used those wierd attributes to add to the flavor, somehow the over saturation in Photoshop and the gritty back ground from one of my traditional paintings, really added to the drama of the image. needless to say i feel I got my "issues" worked out. I still hate the deer though.

Digital Art

So here are some more digital pieces. I prefer to use more traditional mediums that I am more comfortable with, but I have reallly started to have a good time with the Wacom tablet, and apply a traditional technique to a modern canvas. Because of the nature of my work, everything is done digitally. Most of these pieces were done very quickly in the span of an hour or two.

Why Does Defining Art Matter?

Well in the words of Saladin, in Kingdom of Heaven, when Orlando Bloom asks him what is so important with Jerusalem?
"Nothing.... Everything!"

It is important to know where you stand, what you are creating and why you are creating it. For what purpose and for what use.
I am not necessarily stating that lines should be drawn in the sand, or that a war is in our midsts. I am merely trying to bring about awareness. In other discussions, there has been much ado about the political nature of this kind of discussion. That is not the case in the way I look at this topic. We, Society, have been in a seemingly grid locked debate about what is art. The most popular answer seems to say that everything is art. The problem with that answer is that, a majority of the time, this is not truly what they mean. When groups that follow the " everything is art" ideal are looked at closer, what they are really saying is that anything PROGRESSIVE is art. Anything that does not "move art forward" is looked down upon. In other words, the traditional, classical, realists. In some arguments, they are called Kitsch, tacky, even ugly.
My job, I feel, is to present to you some new ways of thinking around these subjects, not to make you choose, but to just be aware. Commercial art, for example is not seen as fine art. However, the high society that supports supposedly "fine" art, will allow commercial art to be considered art, albeit a lesser art. Well, thank you very much, but I will just prefer to not be an "artist" but a craftsman. Illustrators have had to be dead forever to be considered "artists” at least in order to be put in galleries or museums, as if that is something to boast about.
Be an artist if you must, be a craftsman if you must. But know the difference; know where you stand in the society that will label you. And even though you might think labels are unimportant, that does not change the fact that they are there. As an artist, or a craftsman, it is my duty to be real. And sometimes I have both hats on. But they are distinct hats. And that is vitally important to understand. It will make you that much more powerful an artist or craftsman. Of course as most of my posts are, this one is quick, random, and all over the place, so respond with questions and clarifications.

A Series of Random Paragraphs

The following is just thoughts from my head and heart. But they can be very triggering for various reasons. The truth and perspective of life from a soul that is in pain or is recovering from extreme trauma is only meant for other that have been in the same spot and are looking to relate to someone. So you have been warned.



There is none so fair as that of the voice of the one you love. Softly speaking, barely above a whisper, the words that melt your heart and soothe your soul.

I kissed you on the forehead this morning, you were sleepy, and you were soft and gorgeous. You were delicate, I thought to myself, how beautiful and wondrous this woman is in my life. I kissed you good-bye, and briefly envisioned all the things that could happen to me today, all the challenges, all the trials, and my mortality. I jerked suddenly in my shoes as I thought, I wonder if I will get to kiss you on the forehead tomorrow morning.

My breath stopped in my lungs as I came around the corner of my cube this morning. I felt the air nearly stale in this space that is meant to be my joy, my happiness. There is the computer, that ominous and beautiful machine. The screen peered out at me like an evil ghoul in the night. And yet I was drawn to it. Like I was drawn to the edge of a cliff. "Just one peek over the edge, I promise to hold tight to the railing." The urges in my gut caused me to quiver in my step, my confidence waning. Fighting the onslaught of images from the day before that seemed to flash, half in my mind, and half projected on the blank screen, I forced myself to approach it, knowing that this beast carried with it the tools necessary for me to complete my tasks at hand. Feeling physically ill, the taste of bile was present in my throat as I turned on the machine. I did so carefully, with all the respect that a lion tamer would use with his beast, knowing full well that the lion raised in captivity is never domesticated, trained only at its leisure, and willing to turn at the drop of a hat. As the screen lights up, its color reflects in my already glossy eyes, And so my morning begin

Have you ever seen an aborted baby?
It is sad,
It is this little life,
That was,
Now it is a bloody pulpy mass floating in the toilet.
With nothing left but torn places in an emotional heart.
And wondering,
What would have been?

A beating heart is interesting from the perspective of how it feeds the body the fluid it needs. But the constant spasmatic and violent thumping of rich blood soaked muscle contractions seems more the type of thing that defines my head. Even the color, the deep red. Visceral. Dark.


Sitting on the edge of consciousness I watch my life thru my own eyelids. Feeling like a quadriplegic in my own body I can’t move. The sensation of numbness crawls across my entire body from my heart and loins at the same time. Soaking my entire body from the inside out in a thick heavy blanket. Not the type grandma would make. Because although it is all too familiar, and seemingly comfortable, it is elusive and slippery. It lasts but a second, soothing all, than washing away into the deep recess of my mind like a billowy, shady, grey fog. Leaving my blood shot eyes continuing to peer thru my eyelids. Sprawled out in a bathroom stall, I try to “soak” in some sort of “glow” it is already gone. My backaches, my mouth is dry. My head throbs, and my mind is already playing tricks on me, am I in reality? Or did that just pass. Was that brief few seconds the only reality that really exists. I don’t know any more, and it scares me. Paranoid, I go back to work, after all I have a job to do, don’t wanna slack.

emotion,
an ocean
with flowing waves
with winds blowing
it saves
like the sighs
we make
to buy us a break
like signs of life
the life we take
in the wake
of strife
like a knife
it waits
cutting the cuts
gutting the guts
ripping and stripping
tripping and whipping
sipping and flipping
you the bird
word,
not a word
a phrase
rhetorical haze
metaphysical phase
my centrifical ways
will amaze
experience it
you chicken shit
cock sucking trick
feel it
feel it
feel it
the thoughts
like dots
on the ocean,
its your emotion
with flowing waves

You don’t know the pain I have seen. And the pain I have caused, just to be mean.
I mean the pain I see I seem to believe, is the result of relief I think I need.
I see the world rot beside me, I wonder why we fought and died, we sought the good fight and died on a good night.

Im a changed man, and no body knows it.
Gotta new game plan, my attidtued swhos it.

A vigor for life I don’t wanna die
Flyin high as a kite but Im a lost guy

Lookin for a man in my life that wasn’t there
A father figure, that I couldn’t bare.

Fuck a friend, in the end a hug and a chat would a been a lot better


They call me a souljah, but I want to rest.
I thought I told ya, I took my test

Let me alone and let the peace grab hold
Thro me a bone sos I can least get old

The challenges have been far to many and mighty


The depths of my mind are
Closed to me.
I search the world around
Trying to see.
But I cant
So I wait
And I shant debate the hate
That I feel.
In my heart

Ther the truth lies
despite all the lies
I tell my slef to avoid.
To fill a void
What ever shall I do.
Have faith
Have courage, I have naivete
Cant you see
Blame me, but don’t try to be me.
Don’t see me
Stay away lest you fall in and I win.
The great manipulation is on, and we both fell head over heels for it.

Ther is something beyond my gaze.
It eludes me all my days
And though I try to clear the haze
I realize quickly that blindness stays.

I have no patientce. I want it now.
I know what it takes I just don’t know how
To ask, will you be my friend,
Will you be to the end
Can we be together in silence and I not try to run away.
Can we avoid the violence and in peace stay
Can we sit together and wtahc the sunset,
can you be mad a t me and I not know it yet.
And laugh at your jokes, and hold your hand firm, and hope upon hopes that I can learn to be your firend.

I hide in my soloitude there in fron of you. Wondering why you cant see
The pain is so real but, you will not love me if, you see it and share it with me.
Unfinished words that tell volumes of unfinished stories of my life in dangers path. In my own path.
Sickness and disease have racked my head and heart, and I prey for someone to come and take it away. I stand in my head shouting to you for help thru lips that do not move, dare not move unless you see me as weak.
I stand in judgement of myself by watching you look at me. I see through your eyes in my head at a mess in front of you.

I hide in plain sight behind jokes at my own expense. Laugh, that is good, I made you happy, I am now happy. We area all happy. Will you be my friend?

Thank you, now I am in, and can steal your innocence and anything else of value I have then blame it on my naivety and my in ability to be human.

Forgive and forget, me.
You live and you learn, I learn to live as I live to learn.

I watch you watching me and I know what you are thinking. But I cant tell you in case I am wrong, or right. Because I don’t want to be either.

My madness
My sadness
My badness
My gladness
My random acts of
Flatulence
That escapes
the gapes
of my
pie hole
why so
frightful?

My mind has seen the glory of the coming of my insanity, panicly and franticlly I cleing to my reality
But slowly all goes grey and my heart begans to pound, my truth is not my truth.
Glory, glory Im a nut job,
Glory, glory Im a nut job,



Analys the annual lies I tell my well self that speaks well itself to no one but my lonely head.
Going back to the line before, I find my mind like a soldier at war, has scars and bars and all sorts of barriers, ferry the weary thoughts thru areas across the sea of my cloudy and pouty exsistence.

I find an escape from the harshness of life by searching the realities of my mind.

I miss my granddad.

All at once the way is clear.
I lie down and have no fear.
The truth behold has now been shown
And truth be told the angels have flown
For in my eyes I see the light
Lord please guide me, thru the night

This, my path, the way is clear
The lord hath taken away my fear
And now I lay me down to sleep,
The pain I pray, will cause no peep
Soon tis true my soul departs
I leave behind broken hearts.

A life long lived and truly blessed
I tried to give and passed the test
Love I’ve known, and held so close
A jealousy is shared by most
The fortunate one with gifts abound
Rest now easy in the sacred ground

And as the days sun rays set low
I wish to let you all to know
Don’t mourn for me, I lay in peace
Don’t cry at all, let the tears cease
Think of the day I touched your life
And share that with my loving wife.

Politics

The following was found at www.carolliebau.blogspot.com :

Can't slip nuthin' past those Democrats and their friends in the press. Today, Ron Brownstein notes a very valid concern: That the Democrats' over-the-top attacks on President Bush's efforts to protect America (including the NSA's warrantless surveillance of international calls)"may allow Bush to portray Republicans as stronger than Democrats in fighting terrorism, as he did in the 2002 and 2004 campaigns."Well, yes, and reality would, in fact, play a pretty significant role in such a "portrayal."Are they just figuring this out? Others gleefully noted some time ago that the Democrats were marginalizing themselves once again.

http://carolliebau.blogspot.com/


Assuming I understood Mrs. Liebau correctly, that she was in fact pointing out the obvious, which is that the democrats are continuing to slip further and further into a parellel universe, I agree with her totally. There is only a slight percentage of them (Democrats) that seem to be of the more traditional democratic belief that was philisophically different, yet remained grounded in reality. Those days are gone. And before too long we will see this country slip from a (majority) two party govt. into a single party (Rep) govt. then very quickly explode out into all the other little parties. I think our friends in the democratic party will soon become a minority even against the fringe parties. Any how, I enjoyed Carol Platt Liebau's opinion.

Art Critique (Finished or WIP)

So this posting will be about Art Critique. Rules are fairly simple, I will submit some of my work to be at the mercy of the critics. And will be willing to critique any that is sent. Please, if you are critiquing, share with us all what your qualifications are to be critizing someones work, and include a sample if you can. For example, I am an artist at AMAZE Entertainment, I work on 2D concepts, 3D modeling, Texturing, and animation in Maya. I use Photoshop and a Wacom Tablet for my digital work. And I paint on the side with a mixed medium technique taught to me by Bruce Sharp, my mentor, currently of Flying Labs, formerly illustrator and portrait artist for hire. I have a BA from the Art Institute of Seattle. Got it?
so here is my first piece, un finished, but the only new thing I had to get the ball rolling. Fire away.

Art, what is and what isn't

Okay, so the first thing that comes to mind is my most favorite subject. Art, and what is and is not art. This is a subject I have spent many years pondering with my friend Aaron, and by and large, we have narrowed down the field quite alot. But Aaron and I still differ on a great many things. and so this posting will get into some of those debates. Maybe with this "blog" format we will be able to organize it better than the random hundreds of pages of emails that we have written back and forth. Anyone that is a registered user is welcom to join the debate. and it is free to register. Just remember it is my blog, and I reserve the right to be a stingy little cry baby if I dont like what you are saying!
Art, is a concept that largely was created by two events. Despite what most people think, which is that art has been around since the caveman days. That belief is taught in schools and so therefore is the dominant belief. But it is a wrong one all the same. First the impressionistic artists, Monet, Manet, and the like, which was encouraged by the french Salons that were selling paintings as decor rather than important spiritual, and personal communication, as it had been in years past. The concept of the Salons can be traced back to one of the most influential families in the history of painting and art, and that is the Medici family. And the second reason, and most damaging, would be the philosophies of Immanual Kant and his essay entitled the Critique of Pure Reason. Kant and his philosophies have done much for our society, and where he was right on many things, he was not on a few others, we have chosen however to continue to buy into his philosophies, because they make more sence and are easier to accept. illusions are always easier to accept than truths. Kant discuss's what is beauty and what is not. Unfortunately I have not finished reading this critique because of many readings I am in the middle of at one time, and so I cannot speak with confidence on that aspect of this discussion at this time, ( but soon). However, it does not take a rocket scientist to see the de-evolution of quality, and mastery, of communication skills, on the canvas since the publication of this crituque to the masses.
However, I have been looking into the recent forms of illustrative and commercial art as the true evolution of what began hundreds of years ago with the rennasance, and even more powerfully with the Baroque periods and artists like Artemesia Gentillischi and Carravaggio, or Vellasquez, and the ever overpopularized Rembrandt, who I feel is as brilliant as any other, but takes more credit for things that he was not the originator of. much of the "mood" and lighting that made those paintings so powerful came from Carravaggio before him.
Anyhow, I got off on a tangent. what is art then? That answer you will have to gather as you continue to piece it all together thruogh this discussion. because it is everything, and nothing, depending on the side of the fence you stand on. it is insult, or honor, it is garbage, or creme de la creme. But one thing that art is not...it is not what I want to do, I don't do art, I am not an artist. I am painter, or an illustrator, to be an artist is an insult. because it lumps me in with all the crap that goes to the museums and hangs on the walls. The dot in the middle of the canvas, is just as important as the months it took to realistically portray a figure, and to have that figure be able to speak to the audience with true, and pure emotion. A dot will never do that. In fact the only thing that gives that dumb dot any worth, is the museum that is willing to put it on its wall and the patrons it convinces to come look at it. And the only message it is trying communicate, if any, is: "Am I art, what do you think?" a question that seems to have been repeadely asked over and over again for the last 60 plus years. and all it seems to be doing is asking, not even caring for the response, if any.
This is where Ego comes into play, which contributes to what is and is not art. There is rarely any humilty in an artist that hangs that kind of filth on a wall and claims to be great, or even worthwhile. in fact he/ might scream from atop the hills of martyrdom, that he is the epitome of "starving artist" funny, I have never heard the term, starving commercial artist, or starving painter, because they can let go of their ego. They can find work, and they can stay true to themsleves at the same time.
Reality is the basis of which all paintings should be done in. And in two aspects, the subject matter, and the execution. And it should always be communicated from the heart of the painter, in other words, the painter should not be painting Christ on a cross, but himself, a painter should never paint a child weeping, but himself. A painter only knows himself. He is only completely at one with himself. And all that he paints, he starts with himself. There currently is a need in our society to relate to pain, we spend so much time running and hiding from it, that someone needs to have the courage to explore their own pain and paint it. This is what is the most famous paintings of our current time. And will continue to be until they take over the walls of the museums. In truth, I dont feel that it would ever be appropriate to hang in a museum. It should always be an intamate showing, privately funded. censorship is not allowed whatsoever, funding can never influence results.
Last thought. If you criticize my spelling, grammar, or punctuation, you will not be welcome here. so get over it.

Intro

SO this is the begenning of Sketch entering the world of Blog's. Not sure what to expect, not sure what to write. But we will see what happens. This first posting will be simple so that I can check it out and see how it all works. But, my plans for this blog would be to share my thoughts, my writings, my views and opinions. My stories, my poems, etc. isn't that what these things are for? topics like politics, philosophy, art ( what is and isn't) and much much more.