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Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Open Studios 2009

This weekend I am participating in an Open Studios tour in my building. There are a slew of artists living in this building and for the last bunch of years they have organized an Open Studios weekend in conjunction with a similar event at the Brooklyn Waterfront Artist’s Coalition building, down by the waterfront.

I designed this poster as an easy to reproduce 11"x17" piece.

The doctors are saying to one another:
“You see Dr Pinkus?
This is why you don’t teach
a ten ton gorilla about
performance art and
then screen ‘King Kong’”

“I just wanted to open
him up to new experiences
and give him a sense of
his heritage.”

Monday, May 11, 2009

Just listen

Kierkegaard once wrote in his journals:

“…the true relation in prayer is not when God hears what is prayed for, but when the person praying continues to pray until he is the one who hears, who hears what God wills. The immediate person, therefore, uses many words and, therefore, makes demands in his prayer; the true man of prayer only attends.”

I designed this to chastise myself:

Sunday, May 3, 2009

The writer who never wrote

A writer was waiting for a story. He waited and waited. While he waited he contemplated how much he despised waiting around. After a while a story walked up. The man was so excited. He began thinking about how he would tell the story. He couldn’t decide. There were so many good ways to tell it. While trying to decide he contemplated how difficult it was to have to decide. Why couldn't he just be inspired? So he waited for inspiration. While he waited he contemplated how much more infuriatingly frustrating it was to wait while indecisive and uninspired than it was to wait for a story. Waiting with something to lose is always worse than waiting with nothing to lose. After an intolerable span inspiration peeked out from behind the corner. Finally! Inspiration had arrived. The man turned around hastily to handle introductions. He was eager to get started. But the story was gone. Now he had inspiration but no story. He threw up his hands in desperation. "You see now?! This is why I never write."

Extra parts

After decades of genetic experimentation the world is unfit for traditional humanity, now referred to as Obsoletes. Earth, if it can still be called Earth, is controlled now by the successful experiments, Superlatives. Of course, as with all rampant technophilia, there are many more unsuccessful mutations, failed experiments, and dead ends than superlative outcomes. Subcultures and gangs of Runoff or Side Effects begin to form and threaten the New Order. What did you expect?