Friday, January 27, 2012

The Great Marionette

I've been contemplating this thought that we're manipulated by art and design, and they seem to be everywhere. It's the language of our culture painted by the most apparent and unknown artists of our time. Because of them it's in the everyday things that we so commonly see. I feel as though we look through the lens of our nature and the promises and longings of our culture.

Growing up, I was unknowingly curious about such things. I didn't know anything about art or design. I didn't know anything about architecture, impressionism, post-modernism, or realism. All I knew was that these forms resounded with who I am. Art was something that I did, it was a part of who I am and what I'm able to create.

The distinction I found isn't that art and design are not mutually exclusive ideas, that art and design are merely ways that we're able to identify our world. I notice that when I see natural formed objects, I experience something. It could be a feeling mundane or ethereal, the matter is that there is a feeling. That there is an expression, that there is something intrinsically moving about it to me.

Art tends to be inclined to be an ends of it's own means, aesthetically in it's own way to be beautiful in itself. I think that the idea of something being or becoming art is that the ends-of-it's-own-means is it's value to the perciever. Simply put the value of art is the message it conveys to it's audience; however, the audience weighs it with such personal intentions or inclinations. At that moment, that value is subjective, hence, the "intrinsic" meaning of this art or design is dictated by one's experience.

So this manipulation that I speak of is that art and design are made with their own intentions. That these intentions are used by the artist or designer to convey emotions or ideas into our cognition; that maybe we could inherit or empathize with the ideas that they've presented.

My last thought is that the ultimate manipulation that the role of an artist and designer is to emulate beauty. I feel and think that when we do so dutifully such the form of beauty, we've only imitated an experience of a close form we've abstracted an insufficient but tolerable understanding of beauty.

The idea of the great marionnette is us who are utterly moved by man made things that he is hindered by the strings of misunderstood beauty.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Blind Writing

Every now and again-- actually I should say, usually, I do a writing exercise which involves turning my laptop's screen completely off and just writing. I had an blog filled with this content. I write a concept down that I don't quite fully comprehend until after I had finished a piece. I feel comfortable with only a few of the things I write in this manner. And a few of these that I'm actually willing to share.

I call this process, "Blind Writing." This afternoon, I wrote something that I realize would be interesting to share... here it is:

I walk around the velvet room, not hearing an echo, or the voice of the one who loves me. My eyes start to weep of this unpredictable heart's unforgotten sorrow. I'm mindful of it. There's a sense to which there's no home for this heart. An endless romanticized living.

I am lost in heart, I am lost in thought. The cavalcades of the what could have been, rush to me like horses in war. Trampling the grass and breathing cold air. Then my flags waiver in the wind, a quiver of a bolt is what grazes my skin. I am losing. Whereas to not fall in love would have been a dream, but this dream is a war that I want to lose.

I become a prisoner to the army that followed. It's infringed on my very being, they tease me and withhold the reason for their reproach. They loot and plunder my very treasured heart. I am bound to be poor and destitute. I'm humbled by this force, and yet, as a man, I fight it. This is the war. This is the plight of the kingdom of broken voices.

You are the night that was inevitable. The sun rest, and you had shown yourself cold. I befriended the very notion of you, darkness. There were enough stars and candle light. I'm persuaded by such beauty. I've forgotten the battles we've had, I had lost memory of the prison, the torture.

I am in this velvet room, midnight blue is what you've shown me... you are midnight blue.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Lately Music

I recently read an aquaintance's recent blog post about the music she's been listening to. I was reminded of my post earlier last year, "Sounds I've Been Listening To," and I thought it'd be a great idea to write about music once again.

When I think about music, it reminds me of food. I don't feel as though I can ever get away from music. There's sound all around me. It echoes in my ear. I'll hear the wind speak and the water drops. There's a rhythm there, I'll be familiar with it. When I'm without it, I feel as though life would be less experienced, in knowing there are these unseen forces that would compel me to feel alive.

In a sense, music to me is like food. I feed on it, I gnaw on it's meaning, the ideas it presents me. My relationship to it is as a means to an end, of enjoyment and enlightenment. Music is also quite communal, like food. We can prepare ingredients for sophisticated dishes, or the simplest feast. We can experience the food together. I know that we can do the same for music. We can participate in hymns and worship, or the most derelict of songs. The opportunity to be in community, and relationship with each other through both artistic forms, food and music, are ever so present in our day to day.

I feel as though I've lost myself in some thought again. It'd be a good time to re-focus on what I'd originally intended on writing of... these are the sounds that feed me.

La Liste de Musique

(Pardon the French, I felt it appropriate.)

Unlike my previous list, I want to keep my critique of the music brief and let the artists speak for themselves. These are the sounds I've been listening to lately (in no particular order):

The Barr Brothers

The Barr Brothers

Photo by: Andre Guerette

This band feels like a strange anomaly. Here are a few song suggestions:



Photo by: Portia

I think everyone knows Feist... right? I've been enjoying her latest album Metals recently.

  • How Come You Never Go There
  • The Bad in Each Other

Joe Pug


Photo by Your's Truly... Aaron Delani

I have much to say about this particular artist, but I really want to let his music speak for itself. Look for:

  • Unsophisticated Heart
  • Hymn #35

If you visit his website, you may still be able to download his album/ep for free. It's worth it.

Preacher's Sons

Preachers Sons

They really need to do music full time.

I've seen them live since their full album release. I'm really excited to hear their second album/ep coming soon.

Allo Darlin'

Allo Darlin'

Twee pop... and it makes me happy.

What are the sounds you've been listening to?

Do, Make, Live

I'm compelled to make. To create, to do, to be, in a place where I can design and build things that make life... better. Right now, I have no big idea of how things will work out or what I'll do. I have a few projects in mind that feel quite daunting. There's something about the idea of making something that gives me a feeling of life.

I like that feeling. I feel blessed to come in everyday to work and have a direction as to what I'm helping build. Nowadays, I feel like building my own-- I dont know, outside of work. So, this has been my ordeal for the past few months. I just started doing... I lead with my body, and my mind, redesigning my whole website and the different parts of it. It's still a work in progress, but, my dear, it's come a long way. I'm proud of my work. I test the design, over and over again. I feel quite fulfilled because of it.

So, I wonder, what's next. I have a few things in mind. I don't know if they'll be successful. I don't know if I'm going to be able to execute the other projects in the coming months with the diligence that I had to produce this website. I guess I'm just going to have to do and figure things out later.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012


SOPA Would Do This

Dearest Friends,

I love the internet. I love the kind of freedom I people have to be able to share ideas. I love the fact that it's created and cultured a whole community of thinkers, makers, doers. I love the idea that it breaks down cultural walls and through this it connects different cultures. There's this air of freedom that we all inherit because of an open web.

I wanted to write you, to let you know that there's something happening with our mostly open web. Congress is trying to pass a bill that could potentially censor our open web.

Call to Action:

We need to do something. We need to say, act, and really do.

Please visit:

Monday, January 16, 2012

Cheers, There's a New Year

Where is this thought. I know I had it right here. I placed it's most apparent reflection on the top of my mind. This was me right now. This a part of my time perceived. This was the likeness of my self. The faults, a feeble frail, flatulent, feverish, facade of a frolicking gray matter. I'm lost in incomprehensible thought.

I think of growing. Whether or not my past actions will be judged by another. I think I'm growing. I think of the past year and all the unfortunate things that could happen to me, I feel as though I've been through the wilderness and back. The grass was there at times to graze on and live by. I kept moving, seemingly a graveyard appeared by me and the ghost that had haunted me is the piercing thought of what could have been. I spent my year there and the daunting weight of all that had been was the pulse of my heart.

There are a few things I can surmise from the past year. It's overwhelming to think of at times and so easy for me to deny. But I've grown to know who I am in such melancholic events. In such tiresome, low, and sharp rhythmic blues. I've come to know the faithfulness of God through friends and my family. It's become apparent to me that I'm jaded and changed.

There's hope here though. I feel it. This year... this year is good. This year has been amazing. Each day unfolds with such surprising life. My soul feeds on it. I long for it, there's a light there. I wonder at times if I can ever be the good parts of who I was. I wonder if I'll do the right things.

Cheers, there's hope in this new year.