27 June 2007
I drew this at work the other day.
See, I'm very very happy. On Friday (which coincidentally was my birthday) I received the news that a "database error" had caused me to receive a rejection letter in the mail one month ago. And actually, the Nova Group wants me to come work for them teaching in Japan.
It has taken me a few days to accept this new good fortune, and crawl out of the crippling depression the initial rejection caused, but now I'm feeling quite good. I even smiled on my drive to work yesterday. It was an evil smile, but a smile nonetheless.
24 June 2007
17 June 2007
Drawing comes easy to me. I always find it diffucult to explain myself.
I consider myself an illustrator. Ive found my way here because of my affinity for comics and pens. Also, Ive never liked the elitism of fine arts. My art is just as valid when photocopied/scanned and distributed to the public. I do not want it displayed in a room with white walls, entrance fees, and folks with plenty of leisure time. I want to make everyday, everybody art.
I do not want to blanket myself in faux-depth.
Fine Art is like religion in that way.
Youre faking having an "experience" of feeling something more than what is there in front of you. Or maybe you really do think you feel something, cause youre supposed to, and everyone else around you does.
With technology zipping pixels across continents in zero-point-zero seconds the old need for visiting paintings is gone. We are pretending! (How impressed can you really be at a van Eyck painting anyway, when you're reading this through a lit up box in your fucking office!)
Painters are like priests, we allow them to have mystical powers and insights. And the art community, the disciples, and these writers and critics formulate all sorts of arguments to exalt these paintings to a higher, spiritual plain. There is a whole economy and society that depend on us believing in them. Paychecks depend on it, art is really really real.