August 28, 2013

retro post. --->do something


I have a mad love for 

Martin Luther King, Jr. 

In honor of today's anniversary of...

I Have A Dream. 

Here is a link to an older post I did in 2011. 
out of left field. because I adore that man and his amazing wisdom and grace. 

(remember it is an older post from 2011. so, I do not have a cold. nor do I have a new series coming out. what I do have is work with an amazing theater collaboration project coming in DEC 2013. my brother's wedding. updates on camps from the summer. illustration. design work. and hopefully soon, Pumpkin Spice Lattes.) 

more later. 

it is impossible to type well with paint and glue on your hands. 


August 16, 2013

un.interested in being underwhelmed.


for the love. 

expect more.

(when did people get so content with that small little feeling deep down that whispers- I NEED TO ESCAPE.  you should be living so amazingly that you simply dont accept that little feeling's existence.

i mean sure. go to the beach for a weekend. run to your friends kitchen for pancakes. 

those things are glorious. 

but not because you arent wholly thrilled with today.

more like... because you can do anything today.

and not to be ignored- you can FEEL anything today.


the escape feeling... dumb. 

the possibility feeling... great.

OPPORTUNITY and POSSIBILITY are so often forgotten. 

and the escape thing. is often confused with the need to impress someone other than yourself. 



The inability to see POSSIBILITY right in front of you. is a shame. 
the possibility to have a richer day. 


And I am (arguably) not talking crazy here. please. read more posts if you think im naive. 

I have been dealing with one humbling situation after another lately. 

and when you add them up as a collection of capes. and when you have good friends who hear you and then laugh. even through your embarrassment. It is the grandest. 


every day I am just totally un.interested in being underwhelmed. 

this is one case when you should be less tolerant. 

and expect more.


for me. Spectacular things only.

August 1, 2013

my heart beats faster on a normal day.

we are starving for stories.




I think... If I were to write a paper right now on what propels art. or artists. or the viewer of art. or the collector of art. or the person who " isnt into art " but passes judgement on that "stupid line on the bare canvas." 

it would be story.

because we are starving for stories.
 if they are hard to understand or nearly impossible to relate to, it makes us a little mad. or a little frustrated. or... it is easy to say. thats dumb.

except. I am not writing that paper. I am only really happy I had that revelation.

 while it makes no difference to anyone. it does help clarify my inability to relax. fully.

because I have so many to tell.


and fake.

but real.


i mean. dont get me wrong.
I am completely happy doing relaxing things. 
even probably happiest at a food cart festival on a blanket with a beer and a taco. I. AM. GOOD. at finding the best things.


I am talking about the part of me on the inside.


I am not entirely sure why I am the kind of person who sits up at night too excited to sleep.
but if you are too. you get this.


wait... one more thing.

tomorrow is going to be so exciting...


Why memories and things race around in my head until I make something or 
write something or tell at least three people.


I see things. and then I find myself unable to sit down


Literally. I have a faster heartbeat. 
I am very aware of it when I try to take a nap. I am not that good at those. 

But when my art life (not really distinguishable from my real life) is rolling along. and feels right. it reassures me.

just like J.D. Sallinger. he reassures me too. 

That my heartbeat is actually spot on.



Although I am not entirely sure of everything I want to say...
                                                             I am entirely sure that I have something to say.

lots of somethings.


In school we are given these launching points. projects. deadlines.

We are told to think about certain things. make something. then come back and tell everyone about it.

Somewhere along the line I never got the memo that no more projects were due.

I am over here constantly turning in papers to my fourth grade teacher Mrs. Prial.

and screaming to my mom who is sitting in the shade at Aunt Sissy's neighborhood pool. LOOK AT ME. WATCH THIS ONE THING. ONE MORE TIME.



 I go under the water.



and pop back up.







in other news. related. i swear.

my oatmeal pie intake was tripled two weeks ago. in one day alone.

more on that later.

See, I have been spending a lot of time this summer with little artists that ADORE making things and I tell them.




i love music. almost more than everything.