genius

a true genius. who can be said to be/have been a true genius? who is more of a genius, VanGogh or Einstein? given the close line between madness and genius, can it be said that the two are linked? are all geniuses, to a degree, mad? if so, then is the madness a result of the genius's depth of intellect, or is the intellect a result of the ability to look maddeningly deep into the mind?

why are artists generally the outcasts of their time, yet masters of the future? do they have an insight into the future that the average being lacks, or is it just a coincidence that starving artists only gain fame postmortem?

what allows some people to create and others to appreciate? why are most members of society completely out of the loop? is creation simply a product of the ability to be completely honest with the self?

take music, for example: why can some people understand why Hendrix was so amazing, yet others only like him because it is cool to like him, as if he is baseball card or brand-name? one person might hear one of his songs for the first and only time, and be so moved and touched by it, but not know it to be a popular song, yet other people can own a copy of every Hendrix song ever recorded for the sake of having an extensive collection, but never listen to the songs, and never feel the soul-altering melancholy in each guitar solo?

will every generation listen to and love nirvana? or will they eventually fade out? what truth is there in "smells like teen spirit" that touches whole generations. young children who cant understand the lyrics, have never seen the video, and have no idea what a mullato is, but still feel the frustration and energy of the music?

how can people study art their entire lives, and never make anything worth notice, but others can pick up a paintbrush for the first time and create a masterpiece? does everyone have the potential to create, or is it an innate ability that some select, lucky people are born with, and that some may never realize.

are people born with a talent lucky? is it actually a pain? does art come from pain and profound sadness? can art come from happines without being contrite and forced?

where is the line between technical ability and soul? and how do i cross it?

as promised...

I promised a few examples of my moleskine work from my first notebook, so I will keep my promise. all of the ones posted have already been on my flickr page for quite some time, so check them out, but here are a few for the blog.

hello, blog

I'll skip the excuses for being a poor blogger and just get right to business....

1. The United States just elected its first black president, and I feel that I should at least say something about it, so bear with me:

I will not say who I voted for or what I believe, in an attempt to avoid random angry comments from people. I will say, however, that for the first time in a long while, I have hope. I am so tired of hearing how horrible our government is, and hearing that things need to change, and I am just happy to finally hear that change is coming. Even bad change is change, and anything that changes has a chance to make something better. I wish The future President all the best, and I hope that he may be numbered among the great in our History.

2. I have a job. after what seems like ages of joblessness and searching and interviewing, I have landed the perfect job as a Graphic Designer. I am so excited to have finally reached the point in life where I will no longer have to wait on tables or hold temporary jobs just to make money for gas. This job comes with an arsenal of fantastic benefits and perks, and I could not be happier.

3. Troy bought me a flickr pro account today. randomly. So that means that I have something to keep me occupied until I start my new job, and I will be scanning in my moleskine paintings. I also no longer have to delete pictures just to add more. so keep an eye out for flickr updates.

4. Troy and I have been re-thinking the marriage thing. I mean, the marriage is still on, its just the Wedding that is up in the air. There is alot to consider, but I think that, once we make the big decisions (venue, food, day) things will be fun, and much more easy. and, FYI, i do not want to hear wedding horror stories. I wont say that mine will be different, because I know it wont, but I refuse to allow fear to run my wedding.

Now, if I could just afford the dress I want. Believe it or not, it is part of the Disney's Princess collection. It is beautiful, but I am afraid of the price tag.

5. We have begun working on our future home. Its a complicated narrative, so I'll save it for a later day.

6. I have finished my first moleskine book. I'm addicted, and I'm glad. The motivation and creative outlet is good for me.

7. Maryland might get its first snow flurries this weekend. Not sure how I feel about it yet. I'm not really ready for it.

8. "If All Goes Wrong" just came out, and of course Troy bought it that day. If you are a Smashing Pumpkins fan, or just a fan of music and the artistic struggle behind good music, you should see the interview with Pete Townshend and the documentary. Genius. BIlly Corgan always has a way of taking my own personal beliefs and putting them into words.

9. The Pour House closed down. The Pour House is a local coffee shop in my town, and, while it was always packed with obnoxious teens and the prices were pretty high, it was still a local business beloved by the community. I spent the better part of my highschool and early college years there, and now I cannot believe it is gone. I have been going less and less in the past few years, but it felt good to know that the place would be there if ever I needed it. NOt to mention, now, that is one less local business. some person's savings and dreams, devoured by the economy. As much as I love starbucks coffee, I would rather see the local starbcks shut its doors, at least starbucks has a chance to come back. a local business, however, cannot just bounce back, it sucks up every resourse the owner has, and then thats it. I try my best to patronize local business as often as possible because they have more integrity and sincerity toward customers than a giant corporate chain. But, alas, the pour house is no more.

10. Gas is currently 1.97 in my home town. How crazy is that? I do not even know what else to say about it. lets just leave it at this: I hope it stays that way.

11. finally, a word about football: HURRAY RAVENS. lets just keep moving forward and I'll be happy.

thats it for now. good day to you, my random reader.

9. Art, and, subsequently, my molskine project

little known fact about me: I paint. not only do I paint, I do all sorts of art, everything from pixels, vectors, water colors, charcoal, paper cutting, clay, acrylics, sewing, crocheting, and whatever else I can create with.

I am not vain enough to boast about my artwork, and most of it is a form of self-expression, but I have enough of an understanding about things like design and color theory to do pretty well for myself. Not to mention my love of studying art history and the different periods, styles, and masters. Ever since I could remember, I have had a brilliant eye for color. I still think I belong next to a printing press checking colors. I have a great appreciation for the subtleties of color and how pigments mix.

Lately, I have been playing with mixed media and paper cutting. I love to paint news print and create collages and paintings with it. I am forever obsessed with childish colors (not to mention painting childish subjects like my still-life of Mr. Potato Head for a painting class)

But I am just as inconsistent and lazy with my art as I am with writing (and if you read my blog, you understand exactly to what extent I am inconsistent with things that I enjoy doing...i.e. when is the last time I posted a blog?) so the problem exists that I can never make myself sit down and create something. therefore, art as neglect.

my new project is a moleskine notebook. on a whim, I bought a mini watercolor moleskine notebook, and I am trying to fill a page once a day. of course there have been gaps, but, having bought the book on 9/6/08, I have been pretty consistent, painting, sketching, or mod-podging a page almost every day so far. (we'll see how long that lasts). the best part about the book is that I can create small sketches before pulling out a canvas and spending all of my time on one big project. Big projects are daunting, so this allows me to get my ideas onto paper, and not have a mess and lost time.

not to mention, it is 100% portable. grab a brush or two, my watercolors, and the book, and im ready for a long weekend away from my desk.

So I love art, crafts, design, ect.


as a side note, perhaps i shall begin posting my moleskine pages as I finish them. hmmmm...

promises are like snowflakes-forgotten as soon as they melt.

i specifically remember telling this blog that i would not neglect it after graduation. (and, incase i didnt remember saying it, i can at least read it 3 posts ago) I feel bad for telling such a terrible lie to a blog that has been nothing but polite and receptive to me. i will not promise it again, that would be like promising to hold down the shift key when i type "i"; it wont happen, no matter how hard i try.

but i will try my best to keep up with it. i find that i am a better person when i blog, and that i get more done. lately, i have done nothing of substance...unless you count my attempt at chineese paper cutting. here is my cheap photobooth picture of it because i dont feel like scanning it right now, or getting out my camera. i'm pretty pleased with it, but only as a beginning.

which brings me to my fixative rant. So I bought a can of prismacolor fixative last year for a design class (fun with mounting posters and stationary on black board stuff!!!) and have only used half of the can. now, a year or so later, the fixative has no tacky-ness to it.why? infuriating. i may write to the company and demand an explanation. politely.

in the mean time, i had a chick with an umbrella that needed mounting. so, as an impatient person who could not wait until i made it to an art store to buy another can (of a better brand, obviously) i had to find an alternative...and any artsy person will tell you that, other than duct tape, the only other emergency option, and general fixer of crisises, is Modge-Podge. thats right, i used modge-podge. my thinking is that the poor paper-cut was only a trial, and not worthy of waiting, or of a special trip to the store. is it right to favor one piece of art over another? should they not be treate equally, regardless of time spent, and general happiness with outcome? is not all art a reflection of self, or feeling, or some such thing that should not be judged or ranked? is it like favoring the thumb of my right had to that of my left hand? all is part of me....

regardless, I was not going to make a special trip to the store for it. modge-podge it had to be.


in other news, i am still looking for a job. i feel that i will perpetually look for jobs. thank the internet gods for craigslist.


stay tuned for a post featuring more lomo pics. i have quite a few that i am quite fond of. i make no promises as to timing and speed, but i do promise that they will eventually make it here. what else have i to do anyway, jobless as i am?


it is safe to say, then, that, barring the acquisition of a good job, the pictures should be posted soon.

manifesto for one's purpose

i like to think that there is a purpose to everything that every individual does. if not, then bring on the brave new world. but as a dreamer, i cant settle for what i get.

I have never been so deeply moved, disturbed, actually, by any class I have ever taken. My contemporary Literature class is slowly driving me crazy.

In the class, we are studying the common themes and concepts behind literature of all genres written in the past 20 years.

common themes include:
1. failure of a character to connect with other characters
2. inability to show emotion
3. disconnection with the world
4. rape, hate, crime, psychotic behavior, abuse, distrust, ect.
5. death
6. the acceptance of the inevitable, example: death is part of life, death makes life
7. the down side of liberation movements
8. selfishness
9. mistrust, and why mistrust is intelligent
10. the lack of value in love and human relationships
11. lack of hope
12. loss of faith, innocence, life, meaning

all of these topics are things that surface in one way or another throughout current writing.


as a writer (i.e., one who writes) I am discouraged. I never thought of my writing as adhering to any of the topics above, and yet I see, after looking at my writing through the lense of contemporary literature, that my writing is overflowing with many of those things.


After some consideration, I see that I have fallen into the trap of becoming a product of my environment. I write what I see and live through. I write about the ugliness of the human race. The downfall of education, the inevitability of death, and politics. I write about the same things that other people write about.


I cant allow myself to believe that this period in which I live will be defined as a theory of literature hundreds of years from now. Students will take some archaic class that covers my contemporaries. perhaps, instead of the Victorian, modern, post modern, renaissance, Marxist, structuralist, classical, post colonialism, semiotic, or new historicism, we will be called the "hopelessists" or "destructionists"

is there any way to change that? no. literature and art reflect the time in which it is created, but also change the time. Picasso painted in a time of great turbulence, and so his painting was chaotic. "guernica" is a perfect example. He painted a war in the most chaotic, and color-symbolic way he could. his painting reflected the war the way the war created the painting. literature is the same way. literature reflects the time, but also changes how people think.


I wish I could be so brave to think that I could change the way literature works. perhaps, in my own small way, I could.


after waking up at 4am this morning from a bad dream, i decided to consciously change my writing.

for a long time, i viewed writing as something that is very much a part of the self. i still think that way, but i understand that, like the self, writing must undergo change. static writing is boring and useless. so i want to change my writing to still follow the way of my contemporaries (because i have no choice in the matter, mostly) but in a way that allows hope.

I am at a point in my life where i refuse to settle into this American hopelessness. I cant do it. I cant look at the world as something ugly and full of hatred. I am a dreamer, and as such, i need to believe that there is a purpose, that there is meaning, that life is not defined by the absence of death.

I cant give up on hoping that the world is beautiful.


I want to write the way I want to think. but when the world around me is going to hell and people are becoming more hateful and self-centered, selfish, disconnected, i need to hang on to what i have and what i know to be possible.

I want to surround myself with beautiful things. I want to write beautiful things.


i cant avoid writing about how ugly the world is, because the world i live in is ugly. no way around it. and a story without conflict is a story without change, is a story without a story, is a story without purpose. i cant write empty stories. everything i write, fiction, nonfiction, poetry, or even expository writing, has to have a purpose. I have no time for stories about a cute little kitty or unicorns. i despise fiction about empty subjects.


i want my writing to have the weight of lead, but also a sense of hope. damn the contemporaries for creating a world of writing where denouement is not part of the plot line. nothing should end without some sort of resolution. i see the point of doing things that way, but it is sloppy, and it doesnt leave hope. there needs to be hope. i will not live in a world that has no hope.


so, i have thought about my writing and what i want to experiment with next. what is writing if not experimentation? i change my style every time i edit a story, why not change my style in terms of content? forget adding imagery and poetic device. i want to change my place in literary history. not that i expect to become part of literary history, but i feel that i need to take into account that my writing may (if i am lucky) one day reach beyond the small circle i live in. and if it does, god willing, what will people say about it. where will i fit? writing is something that can easily become a legacy. music is too plagued with luck, and art is too critical, but writing is a possibility for recognition, especially posthumously. the editor of the urbanite said that the first thing you have to do to become one of the greats is not to write fantastic pieces, but to give up the obsession you have with air. who knows where my writing will take me, or where it will go without me. but if it goes even as far as one small college lit magazine, or as far as the new yorker, or to whole books, or just my own portfolio, i do not want to be lumped into the same burlap sack with those who write about a lack of hope. they are dragging us down just as much as the topics they write about.


so. i want to write some stories where the situation is serious and the suffering is great, but the setting and description downplay it. i want to use that hemmingwayish understatement to hide the importance of the situation and to focus on the setting and characters. he was a master. perhaps he was much more ahead of his time than we thought.

I dont pretend that i will ever become a great writer, or that i will even be recognized for my writing. i actually doubt that i will. but the point is that i need to look at my writing more seriously, or else i have wasted my degree before i have even gotten it. and in that sense, i need to write something that makes me feel as though i have done something good. and if writing a story every now and then that has a little bit of beauty and hope in it is as far as i can go, then thats all i'll ever need.

gone gone gone

i finally recieved my certificate and pin for Sigma Tau Delta. Nothing like a pin telling you how special you are to make one feel a bit less discouraged by the hateful institution of education. The STD honor society really doesnt mean very much, not as much as the Alpha Chi society, but it still feels good to be acknowledged.

Tonight is a lunar eclipse. the moon is currently red and completely covered by the shadow of the sun. How awesome is that? I have never seen one. Ever. I wish I had a better camera to take a pic of it. I have m Holga, but I doubt the picture I took will turn out right. but we shall see.

Spent some time with Heather tonight. She's an awesome chick. I hate girls, so it always amazes me when I can sit and talk and laugh and fee completely comfortable with another girl. I had a fantastic time, and it really felt nice to get out of the house and stop feeling sorry for myself and being sad about Troy being gone. We do have quite a bit in common, right down to a hatred and subsequent crusade in Highschool against a hateful coach/english professor. Aparently we were both telling him about himself in the same year (semester, perhaps) and didnt even know it.

It feels good to make new friends.

I think thats what I love so much about my classes this semester. I feel like I have college friends. I had them at Carroll, but that was closer to Highschool than College. I do miss those friends though. Some more than others.

I have never been a fan of Zeppelin, but this robert plant/allison krauss cd is amazing.

I havnt had a "troy is gone" song this time. When he was in Mexico, the song was Ava Adore by the pumpkins, but this time there is no ipod, and very little music in general. I think that has been part of my problem. more music starting now. though I will still refrain from picking a song. Ava Adore is ruined. It makes me sad. (but I still love it). I have been listening to quite a bit of Sigur ros, but thats not new. They are the only band I consistently listen to at all times and no matter what.


I am finally cleaning this garbage disposal of a bedroom. It makes me sick to sleep here. I have no idea where the energy came from, but I am gonna get back to the beast before I lose the little bit of motivation I have.

Speaking of motivation, I finally made some sort of painting. I guess it would be a mixed media painting. Fairly simple (though it is reversed in the picture) I'm pretty happy with it. It is a terrible Oprah club book that was horribly written, cut up, water colored, and modge podged to canvas. The idea came to me in a dream, to be completely honest. It feels good to have one of the many floating images out of my head and off my chest. I have accomplished something, even if its something small and trivial. I love how something so simple can still be pretty and art, and is still an expression of myself and what I feel. I call it "A Novel Romance"


Love it.