Make sure to click on the attachment and take a listen. Thanks.

This song began one evening while Joel and I were listening to different sounds and beats on his production equipment to fit a song I had written several years ago. After trial and error we put together the rhythm (drums/bass) and realized it was becoming it’s own piece. The bass line is taken from chords of the old piece, but the entire sound and character of this one no longer sounds even remotely like what I had written prior.

The next step was the creation of the melody which came pretty naturally; humming along to the bass/drum track until it was ironed out and flowed. Joel and I like to record as we write and often listening to the development of a part after it is complete can lead to other creative ideas or pathways. I have seen that occur a few times already, leading me to follow alternative creative ideas I may not have seen otherwise. Initial vocals and lyrics were developed next. Constant repetitive humming along as I played the base line on the piano, I began to sing different words to different  song sections. The word “sideways” was the first to really take a strong place, followed by the “pray with me” line. Joel and I quickly agreed we liked how the two sounded and the rest of the lyrics were written around these words. A theme was becoming evident; one of judgment or a request for redemption/salvation. The questions we asked ourselves, “Who wanted to be saved?” and “what role does the vocalist of the song take on?” We played with the idea of gambling but ended up focus more on the concept of organized religion. Three verses of lyrics have been written, but in this draft recording there is only one verse. This is because we are still formatting and developing the actual musical track.

Joel and I have very different musical pasts but it has been very exciting to bring those two pasts together. We have a few pieces we are working on right now and it seems that there is a strong blues influence along with perhaps a hip-hop undertone. I’m very excited to see where these pieces develop as we brainstorm and create together.

The most thrilling part of the experience to me thus far is the creation of the song meaning and how different pieces can be tweaked to emphasize a specific message. Also, the way I can witness our different styles merge is very satisfying. My least favorite aspect is posting incomplete work. haha. It is frustrating not be able to have all the lyrics up there at this time and I want to reveal where we are headed with the piece to everyone who listens. But, the point of this blog is to discuss the process so I will just have to be patient…. not my strong suit.

His powerful imagery is so environmental and present that it leaves me pondering the question, “Does 2-dimensional art really do enough to incorporate the viewer?”

I choose The Hunter as the focus of this post because it highlights the contrast of his soft style with the harsh content. Here, a fluffy monster holds a knife, glaring menacingly over a hedgerow. These images take a childlike subject matter and make it creepy. Good work, sir.

Visit Dan May at his homepage.

a couple days (months?) ago, caleb ross was giving us his thoughts on what constitutes art and Art (notice the capital ‘A’).  in short, he relays that ‘art,’ while it may be personally relevant, adds more to one’s decor than to global conscience.  and, ‘Art’ inherits “proper noundom” (caleb’s words) because of its social, political, or otherwise ‘greater’ importance.

i believe that art, generally, is quite subjective, and what is important, what most distinguishes the two is audience relationship.  it is possible that one person may have no reaction at all to a particular piece of art, and another may be profoundly moved by it.  and even though one may completely fall in love with that art, there may be no other significance, no meaning, no assets gained by the greater good or that global conscience (or consciousness, even).  another governing aspect, i believe, is the artist’s motivation: the compelling force, the passion behind the creation.  (here, we are getting closer to subject of the post)  take arts and crafts, for example.  each time i visit an arts and crafts fair, i am dissappointed to find no arts,  just crafts.

it’s a quick overview, yes, and i would love to hear everyone’s thoughts on the matter.  what i am posting, is what caleb’s commentary initially reminded me: Komar and Melamid’s project at the Dia Center for the Arts.   There, they posed the question, “what if art was made for the general public?”  but is it not?  surely, we have all seen the same manufactured framed prints sold at department stores: cafe style canvases, novelty signs, the B/W photo of a small girl in which her hat remains pink…….  the list goes on.

Komar and Melamid took it another step, though.  they partnered with a survey team and set out to find what people most wanted in their artwork, and what they least wanted.  questions of color, subject matter, size, and more were answered in 14 countries, and via the internet.  from these questions and answers, they  created 30 paintings.  each country’s (and the web’s) most and least wanted artwork.  above, we see the two created from the American survey.  so with topics in mind, the question is this:  would these paintings be Art?  or merely art?

thoughts on what constitutes art aside, i find their project compelling, intriguing.  i found it remarkable how similar many countries’ most wanted paintings were (places like holland not withstanding).  and i agree with many of my friends, that the least wanted paintings, as a general statement, seem to be more creative, to contain more substance, even, as artwork goes.  but remember, shawn, these surveys were done of the general population (ah, yes, the general population).  not of artists, or of collectors, specifically.  and arguably, the survey size wasn’t a significantly large proportion of that general public.  (1001 americans were surveyed for this project.)  Still, the paintings for Turkey, USA, Iceland, Russia, and France are all radically similar.  Nearly identical.

perhaps it doesn’t answer the question of what constitutes art, or Art.  and if Art is a single work, from inspiration to creation, by an artist, regardless of intrinsic, existential, or global meaning, then it basically just shows us what people use to decorate their livingrooms and bathrooms.  but perhaps there is a question answered.  one that may have not even been asked.  perhaps it shows us how few of us there are, that can string logic from arbitrariness, find meaning in the abstract, and not only crave, but live with a pure necessity for creativity.  follow the masses and you may find a great number of men chewing and spewing the rhetoric of one leader.  but if you are truly searching for knowledge, you may be lucky enough to find many individuals who can help you discover the questions you should be asking yourself.

you can find komid and melamar’s projects here: http://awp.diaart.org/km/.  along with the paintings, they have also created a shorter project:  the most/least wanted song.    check it out.  (Also, caleb, if i have misquoted or misrepresented you in any way, pleas correct me.)

What began as an evening meant only to satisfy a curiosity became an inspiration, as so many unexpected events do, and is ultimately the reason I am writing now.   I have known many self proclaimed poets in my life, some authentic and some merely wanting to be.  I have rarely been captured by a poem,  although I have read many good ones, and I was not expecting any revelations this particular evening.   But when I heard Mary read hers poems, it was as if I could see the words rising up to paint the picture and coming back down again to rest on the page.   She wrote of trees and flowers, animals and insects, light and darkness.  Everything I saw in my mind’s eye was so vivid it seemed to take on a surreal quality that nearly stopped time.  I knew that I too wanted to create beauty such as this.

Mary not only shared her poems with us, but also lessons she had learned in her long writing career which related to any kind of creative process.  The ones that impacted me the most were; to be patient in resolving problems, to not always strive for perfection but instead strive for what works, and to make a date with your own creativity.  Creativity is always working she said, but you must find it.  After the reading, my friends and I stood with the books we had just purchased and waited for them to be signed.  As I approached the table, I opened the book to the first page and asked her to sign anywhere on this first page.  She promptly turned to the third and signed there.  I cannot help but smile when I remember this image she painted for me.

Cigars are a Pavlovian seed for my writing. I see one, smell one, taste one, and immediately I want to write. A trip to the local humidor for me is like a trip to the library for most writers.

My standard make and model is the Drew Estate ACID line. But as prices continue to rise (due mostly to increased tobacco taxes, which I am okay with), I’ve been forced to be a bit more scrupulous with my choices. Yesterday, while perusing the lower shelves, I happened upon a brand called Ramrod. What struck me was just how aesthetically conflicted this stick of a cigar seemed. It’s ugly. But still it’s a cigar (re: it has an inherent beauty). It’s like Demi Moore’s kid, Rumer. The second surprise: this thing smells bathed in bourbon. Drunk uncle style lacquered in vaporous, hot bourbon. But truly, Ramrod had me at “ugly.” I’m a sucker for the outsider.

I parked in my hammock, opened a beer, and settled into Ramrod and a notebook. First, the cigar is a bit lengthy, feeling more like the Virginia slims of cigars than the Marlboro ruggedness it promotes. So, considering the physical rigidness of the wrapper, I manned-up the situation by simply snapping the stick in half and lighting the resulting frayed end.

The taste is not nearly as potent as the scent suggests, which is probably a good thing. The liquor bite still stings the back of the throat, even if the taste is flighty. I wouldn’t call this a comfortable smoke, though to people looking to wear that ‘down in the gutter’ persona for a half hour or so could do well by Ramrod. That time, thirty minutes, is comparatively long for a cigar of this size. Ramrod has a surprisingly slow burn (most discount cigars are made with “filler” tobacco, which allows more air for a faster burn).

I think I could habitually carve out a few pages with a Ramrod.

The style here is almost illustration, but with more vibrance and depth. The iconography

used in the work speaks of a post apocalyptic world that is almost inevitable. His technique to deploy such metaphor is very much akin to the surrealists and to me seems to have touch of Rene Magritte

One of my favorite features of his work is the prevalence of vivisected ecosystem.  It references the scientific illustrations we’ve seen in textbooks, but doesn’t airbrush the details. Its as if a little piece of our planet from 50 years into the future was placed under a slide.

With such relevant topicality its no wonder that he’s getting so much attention.

*To see more of Keyes’ work go to http://www.joshkeyes.net/. I highly recommend it!

Your Bother In Arms

JS

While most of Fouquet’s photography relies in equal parts on the people and settings of New Orleans, with a oft-nod to the romanticized flapper-era persona she herself portrays, this particular piece, “Two Birds,” disregards setting in favor of rare intimacy. The classy female profile directly opposite the disheveled raven imply more than it literally states.

Perhaps it is Fouquet’s fiction writing which has drawn me to this photo in particular. Her collection, “Twenty Stories,” which I review in more depth at Outsider Writers Collective, is filled with similar character sketches, wherein the implication of relationships is often more important than the literal stories themselves.

Visit:
Kristin Fouquet’s gallery
Rank Stranger Press (“Twenty Stories” publisher)

Buy “Twenty Stories”:
From the Author
From Amazon.com

Take Jason Heuer’s Perforated Heart design, in which he takes the literal interpretation of the title to create an image with a perforated stroke. His original concept, which called for die-cutting the individual perforations, was deemed too expensive. But the compromise – a negative relief style to imply perforations – still intrigues. Had the cover been full of holes, the brilliant red cover color would have been all the more justified. Still, as seen here, the concept works.

Perforated Heart, with it’s recessed perforations, is as close as a cover design can get before it transcends the 2D format. And when that happens, we get legitimate book art objects.

Read more about the design from Jason Heuer himself, here.

Over the years, I have added another step to the formula: civil disobedience/public performance. I’ve started shoving my poetry and art into the public realm, like a child that can’t get enough attention. I am taking back my environment, one line, stanza, or symbol at a time. Most see a drab concrete structure, but I see an open forum.

While I have ventured into spray-can art, I’m not particularly fond of a medium that wastes so much paint and is so dependent on calm winds.  I have also spent some time in holding cells, which is more torture than watching TV, and as a result I try not to get caught. Hence my recent use of the paint pen. Get in, get out. Hell, I can usually write something while in the middle of entire crowd without anyone taking notice until later.

I started on my most recent tear this summer, while I was wandering through an undeveloped area of Spokane, Washington. I was barefoot, shirtless, and under the influence of a potent, psilocybin tea. After wandering for hours alongside a narrow river, I climbed the bank to find a road. From the road was an panoramic vista with a view of the valley below and the mountains on the horizon. At the side of the road and in between large, volcanic boulders was a lone bench on a square concrete slab. Like a cut-out from downtown, dropped in the midst of nature.
 
There were countless numbers of better places to sit and enjoy the view, but the bench beckoned, as if to say, “It is acceptable to sit here.” The bench seemed to be implying that sitting elsewhere in this “free country” is not allowed. I thought of the power of suggestion and how we as individuals are conditioned by our society to fall in line, autonomously. I decided to point out what had just become obvious to me. “It is acceptable to sit here X” I wrote, and I saw that it was good.

I am hoping that once thoughts have been provoked, the status quo won’t be enough anymore.
-But to be completely honest, I do it just for the hell of it.

Being the poem,
JS