"It's Ironic, because I'm not really any of these things..."
"Look - bullshit, you made the shirt, because you knew it'll get you laid."
"It's from a comic book!"
"Someone's going to read that and you want them to feel sorry for you. Wha wha wha."
January 2009 Archives
This print is actually available to purchase, here.
This is a boring description of it:
"A small gesture of kindness and generosity"
A somewhat surreal scene of plant-like arms protruding out, offering up a simple gift of a sunflower, without any rhyme or reason and totally by surprise. This series reflects my own gift and flower giving experiences over the years and the innocence and selflessness I try to emote will giving them. In a sick and sad world, it's always nice to be giving just a little gesture of kindness.
The print is made from an original crow quill pen and ink drawing by myself.
Printed on 14" x 17" Strathmore "Wind Power" (paper is made using renewable energy resources) Bristol 100lb Acid Free paper, with a Vellum finish - it's a really nice paper with a little tooth and has a very nice surface texture, with the ink likes to sit well on.
The print itself is about 12" x 16", centered on the paper, signed/dated/number in pencil on the lower side. This series is a run of only 250 prints.
The print is five colors (blue, green, yellow, flesh-tone and black), hand printed, one color at a time in a very time-consuming process (no machines, or even a rotary press! or anything like that). Each one is slightly, ever-so different, but the registration of the colors is really tight.
The ink is actually top quality acrylic paint with really excellent light-fastness qualities.
Makes a wonderful gift and all the materials are of archival quality.
This print was a very very long process to make. Here's the five separate drawings:
One
The picture above was taken in a drawing class at the University of Colorado, Denver on the topic of, Gesture Lines. (Here's a better shot of the drawing)
The other artist shown was, "Luis Jimenez", who I know from his, "Mustang" sculpture near the airport - a sculpture that took 16 years to complete and actually caused his death, while he was working it. Thirty two feet of sculpture, falling and crushing you.
Damn.
Good slide show company, no?
I bought Pablo's, "Breakfast Blend" coffee yesterday. It has a lovable dinosaur on the label and that's all I really need. What I didn't understand was, it's Crack. I am cracking out at the moment.
I decided to go to the library today.
I was almost out of the door and I decided I also needed to go to the bike shop, so I got the wheel I needed to get rebuilt and then decided I should go there, first, just in case. (timing)
So, I did - I told them, "build this really strong" and they were like, "OK - we'll call tomorrow for a quote" I go - "Oh and I need tubes and a patch kit", since I go through about a patch/day these days. I've been riding on two, TWO flat tires for a week now, just too lazy to change them and without any patches to patch them anyways. Um, thus the purchase.
So, I'm about the leave and I realize I forgot my lock at home, so I said, "Fuck, I forgot my lock and I wanted to go to the library and get some coffee and eat some food and buy some fucking PANTS (although I didn't forget my pants at home) and drink more coffee!"
"Yeah, like YOU need more coffee - here, borrow this one"
So, they let me borrow a lock.
I went to the coffee shop - and bought some coffee, drew drew drew and went back to my bike.
It was laying next to the bike rack, um,
without being locked - just next to the pole....DDDDDDDUHRRRRRRRRRRRR.
It was a great, "I'm completely out of my mind" feeling. I think when you drink too much coffee, you just start dreaming, while being awake and the weeks past have been full of this, for me. Everything seems extremely boring and normal, but with odd coincidences that I can't explain - but the coincidences themselves are also extremely boring
But, but! before all that, I went to the library and actually - successfully, locked my bike to the bike post.
I went to the "Bring your books back here" station and told them I had a major debt I'd like to pay. I was hoping they'd be sympathetic, seeing that it was in collections and there was a random, $20 fee on my tab. They told me that was because of collections. Damnit. Damnit!
So, the guy wasn't sympathetic, even though I told him all I was going to get was comic books - since boy, was this guy into comic books! But I lied, I also looked for a John Fante book, but they didn't have one - except in the Young Adults section... wha? But that wasn't there, either. But it said it was, but it wasn't. Hmm.
I left and there was a pretty girl next to my bike! Pretty girl. Next to my bike. Next.... to some dude.
Like,
in my way.
They were talking about screen printing. Oh! Oh, how I wanted to interrupt them and tell her to, COME WITH ME AND WE SHALL SCREEN PRINT AND MAKE BEAUTIFUL LOVE AND BEAUTIFUL BABIES TOGETHER. I was even wearing a shirt I had screen printed. It had a picture of Jack Kerouac on it and mentioned, "Naropa University" - it was my unconscious library-fine-wing-man shirt, in an attempt to get a lower fee - as if, if I wore this shirt, they would KNOW I meant Library Business.
But... I didn't say that COME WITH ME line, I just gimped along, since my knee sucks.
Oh! The funny thing was she was trying to get OUT of the conversation, which I thought, poor boy... - the way I knew this was her excuse to leave was, "I gotta get to Kinkos in time" - but Kinkos,
Kinkos is open 24 hours, even the one on 15th is open until 10:00pm. It was 6:00pm at the moment. Poor girl. Stupid boy.
Oh and the girl from the bike shop called - I had forgotten the patch kit and it was now taken hostage and won't be given back until I give the lock back.
......
There was one day, I went into the bike shop with a lock and came out, without it, so I went back in and the lock was gone - gone! - someone had stolen a locked lock from me, while I was at the bike shop.
......
A week or two ago, I couldn't find my Gym ID - I looked everywhere. For those of you that know me personally, you know that I am not an organized person, but there's limits to this disorganization. For example, I just keep the gym ID in my bag at all time - not because I think I want to make impromptu visits to the gym - like, I'm downtown all of a sudden and have a hankering to, take a shower! - the ID is just small enough that it stays in one of the pockets of the mess bag. When I need it: it's there.
I couldn't find it on that day - so I went to the gym without it, but prepared: "Here's the receipt, I got the membership a month ago, I can't find the ID - DO YOU HAVE A LOST AND FOUND?!"
The girl checks, says, "I don't have it", says this time AND ONLY this time, I can go in to use the gym but NEXT TIME, next time, have the ID, or no entry - blah blah. I see the same 10 people at my gym, I see the same four people working for the gym, so it's not like they have never seen ME.
Laster that week,, I went to go to the gym and of course, I forget about the lost ID, and go, "Crap. Crap!" and I bone up the $15 for a new ID - but not before saying, "Here's my money, but look, I'll get a new ID, as long as you're POSITIVELY SURE it's not here - I've turned my place upside looking for it - and it's not like I have a big place", and they said they didn't have it and... - wait. This makes no sense anyways, since if you get a new membership, they give you an ID anyways, but since I had an old ID from my OLD membership, they just re-used that. What I'm thinking, I should get a $15 discount, or $15 tab, or - but I digress.
So I get the ID the next visit and two days later I get a phone call,
"Hey this is the gym, we have your ID - it's been here for *weeks*. You can pick it up, if you want...."
I put down the phone and I just about threw something out of the window.
...............
I went to the coffee shop today - leaving, as I said, the bike outside, unlocked, for anyone to take - it's a great bike! really... and inside there was a man and a woman - they met online, it's really obvious - and kinda cute. A coffee shop isn't the worst place to find out if the dude you just met is a serial killer or not - this guy definitely wasn't, but they weren't doing much with hitting it off, sadly.
It's always weird to hear the, "introduction" speech, I've heard it a thousand times. The guy must have talked about tango dancing and tango partners and how he can dance with his best friend and not feel all uncomfortable and all that and blah blah blah.
The guy wasn't wearing socks.
It's January, and the guy wasn't wearing socks. So it's 70 out. I don't fail to put socks on - ME! King Slob. They don't MATCH, but, hey!, they're on.
Anyways, they mentioned the Denver Turnverein, which I used to go to, that few years I was some sort of Swing Kid! Not in any sort of social butterfly sense - I *hated* asking people to dance and I *hated* when people asked me to dance. I know, it's weird - I'm weird. The Turnverein is an old German hall though, as weird things in Denver go, it's a needed stop, if not for the wall Bavarian paintings in the basement, slowly peeling off, celebrating much simpler times.
So I get coffee somewhere ELSE - and I'm sitting outside - it's nice and all it's too crowded inside and I'm reading, and there's a group of 3 or so girls and they all met online as well - you can tell! You can tell, because they always ask what the hell everyone is about, for the most basic things, like what you're REAL name is. And then, THEY mention the Turnverein - and it's the same conversation, the same thing, directly from the guy at the previous coffee shop - and I'm looking for light switches to flip up and down to see if I can control the ambiance of the environment.
.............
A got a card today in the mail, it had a heart drawn on the back. It had my first and last full, real name on it, but it forgot the zip code. Someone else, in a different pen, filled that part in.
Inside, was a card from my ex-roommate, the one that I didn't get along with very well.
It was a thank you card. She thanked me for sending a juicer she forgot when she moved. Awwww, shucks.
Then, I get an email from her b/f, my OTHER ex-roommate a minute later. He says he bought something for her online, but forgot to update his address, so it's coming here to Denver and not Austin and oh - would I be nice enough to mail it over when it does come?
..............
Last Friday, speaking of online dates, I had one kinda/sorta - but I knew she only wanted to be friends - which was totally completely cool and fine and whatnot. What was strange is that my roommate also had one - and there was potential for more.
This was more like his first online date meeting-together type of thing and I laughed at him. Because, I'm a major asshole.
I did bid him good luck, we both left at the same time. I went and picked up my friend and I rode her to a cuban restaurant on the back of my bike, all downhill.
We went over a bump. I think I said, "Bump!" after the fact - and we almost biffed it - like, emergency room is next on the agenda, type of biff. But, we didn't and we had so-so cuban starters. Meh. Cuban food can be really bland done badly - it's as if the restaurants are afraid to use lard in the beans, or something. The place was called, "Mojitos", which was interesting, because I met the girl in real life a few weeks before, while she was making mojitos at a party and after 6 of those, I forgot her name and had sex with someone else. Which was a bad idea, through and through. That's actually why we decided to go to, "Mojitos", it sounded like a bad idea.
After dinner, I guess girl had to do some work, so I went home, called my room mate while doing it (riding home) - as if it was the call you give to the person on the blind date, so if the date isn't going well, they can make an excuse and get out of it.
But, he didn't pick up.
In fact, at 4:00 am, he STILL wasn't back, so I thought, he was either dead or getting beautifully drilled. I thought well enough with either outcome.
Turns out, he was at the airport. Apparently, this girl is A-OK. They were at the Cupcake Shop and she kept looking out of the window - she was an adamant people watcher. She asked my roommate, "Do you know where my favorite place is to people watch?"
So, to the airport they went. To watch people. On Saturday Night. And no one was really there! Because no one flies on Saturday nights!
And after that, they decided to go watch the sun come up. AWWWWWWW BLEEEEEEEEECCH!!! and they were just about to go up Lookout Mountain or something when,
My roommate's car ran out of gas.
I guess this same girl was at the Halloween party - the same place I first wore that Kerouac shirt and she hangs out at the coffee shop - the same coffee shop that has cracked me out tonight.
...........
Yesterday I rode one-legged a few fucking miles to a design slideshow thing. It was fucking weird. I got there early, to grab a seat, since the leg doesn't do well bent. I'm royally screwed with that knee. I'm there to meet someone, but it fills up quickly and as soon as they get there, there aren't really any seats, except ONE, the one right to the left of me and I feel totally and completely awkward - I'm taken back to grade school, where all I was, was totally and completely awkward and at twenty-seven, NO ONE wants to hang out with me, or talk to me, or fuck - sit next to me. But this isn't true, I was here to meet someone and now they can't, since they came with two other people and there's only one seat left and and and Gah!
And then, walks Andrew. So, right before the slide show Thing starts, he sits down.
I don't really remember where - I think during the slideshow about dead birds this artist mounts on sticks, for a series called, "Birds on Sticks", he gives me this bit of information,
"hey, you know So and So is preggers!"
Which is crazy, since my last actual Valentines date with this girl - I think we went out for 5 weeks or something. We spent the night cracking those Lifesavers candies that spark when you click them and trying to take pictures of it happening. And we actually did, which was the scary part. She bought me oatmeal - Irish Oatmeal. For Valentines. (I bought the Life Savers). We broke up because of Wasabi Peas. (the sound of crunching on them, at least) and I think, I lack on my part, to have any sort of board game available. Roller skates? Got them. Riot Helmet? No problem. A deck of fucking cards? No can do.
What made this all other-worldy was the guy that was telling me was the guy who took her virginity - as if it's this weird powow - the guy that took this girl's virginity is telling another dude that tasted, say, from the same cup, that this girl is now knocked up.
And I'm looking at dead birds on a gigantic screen.
I really wish her well. In the scant time we hung out, most of what she talked about, was having a child, but no Father (I said I'd be interested in being that, "No Father", Feather), really, and traveling, with the child and having this child experience most of the World before hitting grade school. As far as I'm concerned, that ranks up to the top of the list of How Cool Can Your Parent Be?
...........
The other night I bought groceries at 12:30 am on a Sunday. I walk in and nod to the nodding off security guard and I collect the things I want. The isles are blocked completely with new stock on one end, so I double back on each and every isle.
No one at the automated checkout counter, so I begin scanning things, balancing on the platform without a plastic bag, since the machine will freak out if I put my own on. And I bring my own.
I pay, re-bag my things s-l-o-w-l-y and go over to the center desk, pull my receipt out of the machine, then sign my own credit card slip and take my own receipt.
It's quiet here, just a few box knives, ripping apart tape and a few squeaky wheels. The lights are as intense as ever.
I leave.
...........
I keep finding articles about a police officer that shares my first and last name and reports of him, killing people. The last one was a nineteen year old.
No charges are ever filed.
It's depressing.
...........
Timing gets all weird, sometimes.
...........
I've been thinking about hexagons a lot. Along with triangles and squares, I think they're also tile-able. But, Pentagons? Dunno - I don't think they can tile (only using pentagons - regular pentagons), but OCTAGONS?! No way. Try it.
I used to really be into non-periodic tiles. Did you know the Sierpinski tiling used to be the design on toilet paper? Sir Sierpinski sued them for... something. That's some shit.
I wanna buy Tangrams. And maybe SUPER tangrams! God, I love tangrams. And psychological puzzles. I used to have lots of those. Guess what my Father did.
Today, I drew a balding man, with pigtails, blowing a huge pink bubble-gum bubble. His neck was long and serpent-like, and his body was that of a colorful turkey. The turkey's leg was standing on a business man's head, and this business man's body ended right after his tie started - sort of with cut-lines - like in a pattern. Onlooking all of this, was a blonde-haired woman, with a tiny waist and enormous thighs, and flying above all this was a birdie thingy, like when you put your hands together , in a pose you would use to make a shadow of a birdie with two hands and there was a biplane, sky-writing a cartoon-looking cloud in the sky.
do you remember this?? sorry it took a couple years!
Front:
Back:
My apologies for what look like extremely in-fashion jeans. The "stress" in them is actually holes from wearing them every day and riding a bike - I didn't buy them like - they're just the only pair of jeans I really have.
I know it looks glamourous, but when I was passed out in an alley-way with the shirt on, later that night, I felt anything but.
And I couldn't find anyone yet to model these shirts - maybe I'll try to sell them, or punt them off to friends, if I can find anyone that wants them-
Senior Friends:
Helena's Angels Dance Academy:
These t-shirts were all made using parts of designs of t-shirt screens that I picked up in Thorton, Colorado of all places, one day. I bought them by the truck-load - $5/each. They're all from a screen printing business that was sold and 300 of the 900 or so screens they had were being sold off. I picked up around 60 of them.
Some of them are really beat up and I haven't needed to reclaim all of them yet - a lot of them are still covered in Plasticine screen print ink, which is a bear to get off and extremely sticky, old tape, which is even harder. So, they sit on my tables, for a while
The other day, I bought some t-shirts - a few $3 shirts from the thrift store and a few shirts from American Apparrel - THAT bill come to over $100 (#$%&^%#!!!) and I took them to my studio to print.
I had the idea to do collages from all the old designs - some of these original designs are just too golden to pass up and I started making a simple, one-color t-shirt press for this job.
Before that, I've been literally, stealing a board from somewhere - large enough to fit a t-shirt over - but not any larger and I'd put that t-shirt/board on the ground and just sort of, eye-up the design with the shirt and have someone else press down on the screen, over the shirt/board as I squeegeed the design on. I'm not really one for special techniques...
The t-shirt press I made wasn't too much more than two boards (shelves really - the kind with that slick white coating), around 16 inches wide attached by a 2 x 4, also 16 inches wide on one side, so you could slip a shirt on one side, and attach to hinges to the other and be able to bring up and down your screen onto the shirt.
I was getting pretty near to finishing my little crafty endeavor and I thought I was pretty damn smart for making such a simple little thing -
when I realized, it wasn't going to work with what I wanted to do with this project. You see, the designs on these screens aren't in any sort of logical place and I was going to put them on the shirts, well, wherever the hell I wanted and the wiggle room my little press (and any t-shirt press, really), was going to be measured in sixteenths of an inch. I needed feet. Fuck.
In a stroke of dumb luck, I realized, that if I don't attach the hinges to the bottom board of my press, but rather on the table, I could have a solid and stable place to put my screen, and the press itself could be completely mobile - all I had to do was find the perfect place to put the press underneith where the screen would be dropped down and I could put the design that could be anywhere on the screen, anywhere on the shirt.
This worked really well. It was also extremely time-consuming and my entire day, including making the press, yielded only three completely unique shirts. Ha.
One of the problems is that for each design I put on, I had to clean off the screen and the squeegee, put back the unused ink, dry the shirt and clean up the area on and around the table enough, so when I move everything, I'm not inadvertently putting ink where no ink belongs. That first shirt is screened front and back, with six different colors and seven different designs. Talk about an insanely fun thing to do. Going this slow - a pace that would bleed a professional screen printer is somewhat a way to meditate. I didn't necessary plan any of these designs - I just lined the screens up against a wall, lined my inks on a table and went, "hmm..." and fifteen minutes later, another part of a design was on another shirt.
I also gave up the idea of getting these designs aligned just so perfectly, since you can't see the shirt well underneath the screen you're going to line up and my hinges are really shaky and lame and it's just best to give up some anal-retentiveness and pop a color down.
A lot of screen printing is involved with the craft of getting a good registration of the designs separate colors onto the shirt well. This couldn't ever be a goal, since none of these designs belonged with each other. There was no wrong way - everything could just be accidental. You also really only have one chance to do it - there's no easy, "undo" in printing like this.
I know at least, I'm heavily absorbed in a world of computers with multiple levels of undo's and histories, version control systems, branches, forks and backup copies saved on disks, tapes, DVD's, CD's and printed out. Making one of a kind collage from tools that were invented to facilitate the mass production of an item is certainly an interesting idea.
I'll have to say one of my greatest influences for making these shirts was from Ryan Wheelbarrow's (We_RD f_Ck_R) designs - and a shirt I bought from him, a very very long time ago. His designs, though are more deconstructive than mine, I obviously tried to make sense and create relationships from the collages images and the collages words - perhaps to a fault. I think Ryan is also a lot more free in how he manipulates and uses the screens. He also takes far more drugs than I do and hangs out with many more pretty women.
I think I just re-invented something.
Justin cleaned up the code and I made this.
#!/usr/bin/perl
use strict;
use lib qw(/Users/alex/Documents/perl/vasarely-pompidou-effect/lib);
use Pompidou;
$|++;
my $limit = 153;
my $i = 0;
for ( $i = 0 ; $i <= $limit ; $i++ ) {
my $t = ( $i * 5 );
my $pomp = Pompidou->new(
image => 'image.gif',
threshold => $t,
max_width => 960,
max_height => 540,
num_columns => 70,
);
my $img = $pomp->transform;
open my $fh, ">", $t . '.gif' or die $!;
binmode $fh;
print $fh $img->gif or die $!;
close $fh or die $!;
print $t . " Complete. \n";
}
print "\nDone!\n\n";
