Thursday, March 24, 2016

to talk about the weather

When I find myself talking about the weather, the me inside my mind is screaming, "ABORT! ABORT!" 

I really don't want to talk about it, it is like a sign post for mundanity. The Tears for Fears song, Head over Heels begins to play in my head. Which encapsulates, my awkward self  and my ability to verbalize all the awesome things I think about.

And here we are...I am talking about the weather. Again.

However, I noticed a weather related anomaly. See you can spot it in the following examples.






Weather and seasons fluctuate all over the globe. Just sayin'.

Friday, March 11, 2016

the horrors of clickbait

I detest clickbait. Honestly, who started it? I would like to have a long conversation with you about your relationship with the Devil.

And it's getting worse.

I see images of celebrities that are alive and well, the caption reads; SHOCKING SUICIDES!

Really? You aren't even trying to create content now. You just want your ad money.

The thing is we give these people a reason to do this. We keep clicking. The solution is to stop.

However, if you are like me and you have the self control of a rhesus monkey (macaque) on speed. There is a secondary suggestion/solution.

Once you find that awesome video or news you were actually interested in, take the time and repost either the original content or perhaps a NON clickbait version.

It will make everyone happier in the long run.

Thanks.

Monday, March 7, 2016

words, art, and smut

When I was very young I remember going to the Milwaukee Art Museum with my family. I have three distinct memories from this trip.
1.) Eating an ice cream bar that was in the shape of Mickey Mouse and wondering why they didn't make it a Picasso ice cream bar. It was an art museum after all.
2.) Seeing the painting St. Francis of Assisi in His Tomb by: Francisco de Zurbarán Which is still in my top ten favorite paintings.
3.) Seeing a giant vagina painting. It was not that subtle Georgia-O'Keeffe-is-it-a-vagina? kind of painting either. This was a -- in your face, look at it, these are all my lady parts -- kind of painting.
My mother went into full panic mood. As if me seeing a paint vagina was going to scar me for life. If anything, it made me want to look at it more. I wanted to know why it was so upsetting. I was a girl. I had one of those. What was the problem? I mean it wasn't like it was a H.R. Giger painting. Have you ever seen his painting Penis Landscape? That might have been something to keep my young and impressionable eyes from.

Proceeds to post this (NSFW 18+) the Dead Kennedy's poster for Frankenchrist that highlights Giger's Penis Landscape.

Without going into the long history about the connections between art and sex, (Which includes; The Catholic Church going all whack-a-mole on statue penises. Degas's fascination with ballerinas and their ankles. And a lot of weird Warhol films.) I will say that I take perverse satisfaction when art and sex overlap.

I have mentioned before (in previous blog posts) that I read a lot of garbage. Also, I have a soft spot for REALLY terrible smutty novels. (Yes, I read 50 Shades of Grey. No, I didn't like it. You can read my thoughts about that here.) So, when a smutty novel series comes out. I read it.

Why am I bringing this up? 

I started reading the Calendar Girl series. (Which is....meh.) In the book February there is a really excellent interaction between a French artist and the main character. She asks him about a tattoo he has. It is a quote by the French writer Jacques Prévert. (I have no idea if this is a legitimate quote or not.) This is how he responds,
"It’s mostly of a poem about people viewing Witold’s paintings. Roughly it translates to:

The mystery of everyday people
Painted with love in the furtive silence
And the obsessive noise of the street.
You follow their progress,
But you have only the back view of them, and like them,
You will give a back view to other visitors
Who will take your place in front of the paintings.

It reminds me that many will look at my art, the images I capture or paint, and sometimes, part of the experience will be when another person captures that person viewing my art. It changes what they see. So now, the art is viewed in a way that the person standing in front of it, becomes part of it.” February By: Audrey Carlan
The quote (and the whole concept of interaction between creator/viewer) is fascinating in it's own way and I find myself thinking about it a lot.

Friday, March 4, 2016

Favorite childhood things - Part II

I realized after posting my favorite childhood song in Being incomprehensibly different or Favorite childhood things - Part I, that I should post other songs that were important to me as a young person. So here they are. Enjoy!

Artie Shaw - Nightmare

Shared to me by my grandfather who taught me about jazz and Peggy Lee.


America - A Horse with no Name

One of my fathers eight track favorites. Yes, even though I was born in the eighties my parents still had their precious eight track.


Enya - I Want Tomorrow

This is probably in my top twenty songs of my life. I don't remember how I cam across it. I do remember that I had it on tape and it the first thing I replaced with CD. 

I'm sorry in advance for the questionable music video. It was an eighties thing to make videos that were a poor attempt at plastic avant garde.


Dolly Parton - Coat of Many Colors

As I live in Texas now this might not seem so strange. However, I was in the suburbs of Chicago and country was not cool. New Kids on the Block was cool. Regardless, I will always be a Dolly fan. She gets me. I get her. Word.


Astrud Gilberto & Stan Getz: The Girl From Ipanema

This was my grandmother's favorite song. She'd hum it a lot and I always thought it to be so exotic and lovely. 


And of course these two songs are is my favorites from more my preteen years but, I still consider them major songs in my life.

Robin S - Show Me Love

This was all over the radio like early nineties in Chicago. For some reason, I felt everything she said even though I never experienced anything she was talking about. 



The Damned - New Rose

My friend's eldest brother was a punk. He would make me mixtapes and try to turn me into his little punk sidekick. It half worked. This was one of the songs that I was really into from his tapes.