Magniloquent Excrement

Totes.

2010-06-03T15:32:00.000-07:00

Lying on my back on the tile floor, I was looking through the sky light. Blue atmosphere filled the frame. Suddenly, a black bird zoomed across it's field. A half second of life in otherwise stillness. Where it came from, where it was going was not represented, only the action of going. Its birth and its not illustrated. I've been thinking about film. A film can only show you a slide of reality. A snapshot. Oddly, critics like to call certain films a "slice of life" but not other films. I want to see a film that is the entirety of life. Even projects like "Boyhood", Richard Linklater's chronicle of a boys life from 6 to 18, while ambitious, is still only a slice of life. I think it is enough to be content with this. Reality is unwieldy and says nothing, whereas film is usually meant to express a point of view about life.
What are we trying to say about life? Is it important to have a specific point of view before you gather specific images and sounds to present? Is it enough to let these images resonate their own meaning after they have been complied? Why do I find certain images interesting and others not so much?
I'm not sure if I even really want answers to these questions. I think I just need to let go and let my art happen as it happens.

bleh.

Final project

2010-05-26T18:05:00.000-07:00

HIVEMIND

http://www.vimeo.com/12065965

weird media

2010-05-02T12:19:00.000-07:00

Laser engraver plays Super Mario theme from Jedediah Smith on Vimeo.

2010-04-27T06:18:00.000-07:00

I'm interested in the concept of "hivemind" and the awareness of collective consciousness within the group. Hivemind occurs when a group, however large, finds themselves so caught up with like-mindedness and encouragement of the group, they fail to achieve alternative discourses. This is seen, mainly within the contexts of message boards and other internet groups. I will be creating a film describing this phenomenon.

I have been infiltrating particular internet group, such as reddit, 4chan and digg to further understand their specific groupthinks. I will also be (re)reading "Infotopia" by Cass R. Sunstein and "Madness and Civilization" by Foucault.

I think the idea of the hivemind quite obviously lends itself to the "weaving" and "liquidity" concepts. The Internet makes it quite simple for users to submit ideas to the group and have them adopted or rejected almost instantaneously. There is discussion, sure, but it does not take a democratic vote for the group to decide on a subject. Once the faction makes a decision, the rest of the group nods their heads. The information is everywhere, all at once. How? Why?

The film will be "experimental" in nature and lacking much of anything resembling a story. In this way, it will differ heavily from what I'm learning and working on in "film school"

I will base my success on the aesthetic pleasure I attain from the piece and how clearly the visuals express the idea I've previously stated.

-bbbbbbbb

SATURDAY NIGHT MACHINE CHILD

2010-03-30T06:16:00.001-07:00

Go forth kids! Have a fun time dayz!

The Hook-Nosed Ruler of Swamp Hell

2009-03-05T05:49:00.000-08:00

Let the chemicals on Squire Mountain erode and decay. Hear sirens roar over the blue cracks illuminating foreign lands. I'm an iron hook in the kings mouth, rotting hell spans under and through malignant beef: golden and dripping light. Gas mask bubble in and de flates hanging off the side of his hanging mouth.
"Come here", saying harsh.
"Shut up and let me do this", slithery and sour.
Bones turn and grasp dick septer, huge ruby red boldness and salivate smile. Gelatin ankle sinks through straight surface and blinks. One quick swipe before vaginal walls collapse on the wine bottles.
The death of the hook-nosed ruler of Swamp Hell rings and reverberates in marrow and red curtains in front of yellow wooded floors.

Learning To Love You More

2009-02-24T16:30:00.000-08:00

http://learningtoloveyoumore.com/index.php

This is a world wide generative art project led by Miranda July. (Filmmaker, performance artist, goddess) Every few months she puts up new "Assignments" to which people from all over send in their versions of the instructions. Sometimes the results can be mundane, sometimes their really interesting. They already have a book out of the stuff. Take a look, it's really cool.

TAKE THIS ONE TWO

2009-02-19T14:56:00.000-08:00

I started off unsure.
I asked Kat to do really odd things that I made up spur of the moment. Then, while shopping with Brooke, I took a lot more video of food, lobsters and other patterns.
Then, while at Kinko's and borders I took many pictures of chests and more patterns. Also trees and the road.
Then i edited all together in quick succession. Then played it in class.

If you haven't noticed, I fucking loathe explaining the process. I like talking about art, but taking it step by step like this is just silly. It's like, here's the magic trick. here's how it's done. awful.

I'm trying to figure out a way to make this more bearable.

TAKE THIS ONE

2009-02-19T14:34:00.001-08:00

We started off by thinking about social mores and laws.
We continued by thinking about perception of pain.
We decided it would be interesting to give a building the appearance of wounds.
Then we decided we would get in trouble for so much meat on poor, bared walls.
So we decided we would make the buildings poor wounds external. We wanted to show the process of decay to the people who were currently experiencing it.
We bought chocolate syrup, food coloring, corn syrup and turkey necks. We already had saran wrap and string.
We woke up early and put together around 15 bags of bloody, gooey necks. We then ran to the Commons' second floor and hung them from the railing. There were about 8 hanging from the commons.
Then we hung some from the bridge. There were something like 7. I had to run and set up my other project. Sometimes there's no time.

When we finally showed the class our meats, the Man came to ruin the show. While exhibiting the bridge, a copper came and thought they were some sort of destructive weapon. (I guess. ) We were told that the Commons meats had been removed by some cleaner people. I was disappointed. The bridge still caused something of a system and certainly lasted an hour. So, mission completed, I guess. I wish we were able to leave them up longer. But now they're in the hallway. So hopefully we will get to see them get more awful.

I DONT JS EXOPLAIHNF SIERYT

2009-02-03T06:29:00.000-08:00

I find it hard to explain myself. I really don't want to. The point is that I've been thinking a lot about MMORPGs as generative art and the way the facade of choice affects children. Whether it be World of Warcraft or Pixie Hollow, we're seeing a malleable, fictional universe unfold for anyone who desires it. But aren't your choices still limited? Aren't you still bound to the will of Blizzard? Or Disney? You're a cog in their generative art machine.

This hurts.

Long live the new flesh

2009-01-29T06:21:00.000-08:00

I want to tell you about a growing subculture among our female youth.
http://pixiehollow.go.com/
Age old tyrants, Disney, have created an online militia they call "Pixie Hollow". Taking a short visit to Pixie Hollow led me to uncover their strange practices.
First, you create your alter-avatar. You start by choose your assigned power. You have the choice between Water, Garden, Animal, Light and Knives. I chose Water. Then you choose the anatomical proportions of your pixie. This is a little uncomfortable, so I will skip it.
Then you dress your minuscule wood nymph. I became meticulous about this step and added unnecessary trinkets and accessories. Already I was being grasped by the fantastical hand of the Hollow.
After this you must obey a randomized machine to choose your name. You can't just type in, "Floggerman" as I was hoping to. You must choose a combination of two of around 80 "faerie" names such as "Nightshade Pumpernickle". Goddamnit. After struggling with the desire to run from this, I ended up naming my avatar "Twilight" because that's pretty.
Finally, they turn you loose onto the pixies woodland world. You begin by collecting worthless objects like twigs and raindrops that you eventually trade for weapons and, presumibly, drugs. As I tirelessly searched for natural debris, I was cojoled by other fairies. They asked me if I wanted to be friends with them and if I wanted to play hide and seek. I smartly realized that these were obviously code words for their devious schemes, so I retreated in fear of capture.

Squeamish analgesics.

2009-01-26T20:44:00.000-08:00

You don't want to see want I'm about to show you. Fair enough. Don't look at it. What about it makes you ill? Which human process affects you with such a malignant force? Don't pretend that you're an "artist" when you're not. When you can't even stand to experience what I experience every day. When you can't look down the esophagus of the wolf that brings you kindness. When you can't see through this bullshit. Don't talk to me about what art is. You don't know what it isn't.
This is anger.

This isn't.
I like it when what you see grosses you out. I like it when you feel something. Even if you don't like what you feel. Look at that guy who's naked! Look at red balloons in sequence. Look at this fairy that came out of my pocket.
Tell me. Tell me what you see.

Hmm...

2009-01-15T06:43:00.001-08:00

I think I want this.

Refreacted

2009-01-14T16:49:00.000-08:00

This is a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy o a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a coy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy o a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of a journal entry I used to imagine when I was 7 years old. In my memory, it said:

"Frankfort is a long way from New Zealand. That's why, when you close your windows at night and you feel the strange sensation that you just ingested a living entity, you realize that we can't be together. I used to by you cigarettes and then gum so that your father wouldn't know you were smoking. I held you up on the carousel so you could pretend you would actually amount to anything. But now, in the gray light of this dressing room, we push our lips together and hope for the best."

Put your bones back together. We got though this, just like I said we would. Doubt me again and I'll kill you for real.

-Rock Man On Off

I'll tell you what it is.

2009-01-13T06:05:00.000-08:00

It's a single swamped fly in a hotel bed, floating acid in a shot glass and holding up his head.

Let's not scold each other over sold angles and sought after salesmanship. It doesn't really matter what comes out of you. The sound of horns is the same as a siren and the colour of scorn. It folds and bends around your head and spins through the synapses of those around you. Why get catty over who meant to? Who sent who? Let it become what it will anyway.

It's a folding, breaking ice cube tray, falling through the cracks in the gray cement under the hay.