SAVE

 

I was typing an artist bio for a group my friend Melanie Tjoeng is starting called Commune Collect, when I realized the "save" icon for Word 2004 is an image of an old floppy disc...

"How curious," I thought. "I am barely old enough to remember the floppy disc and I'm 26. I wonder what kids think that grey brick save icon is trying to be?" 

This icon has literally zero contextual relevance to a school age kid's repertoire of images. Without some prior knowledge of its place in history as a technology once used to store data, the floppy disc icon offers no visual cues as to what it is or does. I know I'm not the first to realize this. I'm sure the contemporary lack of a  universally recognized symbol for data storage is the plight of every Word software programmer. And on the far off chance one of them views this or any other blog addressing the issue, it will surely be salt in the wound. whoops. 

So whats the solution for when there are no people to explain what a floppy disc was? Maybe by then we wont have to click "save." Maybe our brains will think it, and it will be so. But in this mental clicking process will the brain picture the icon of the floppy disc or merely picture the word "save" to initiate the command? I kind of hope its the floppy disc.  

Analog Sunshine Recorders: "Come Together"

...a rapid fire two week project. Two people, one roll. With zero knowledge of what was shot the first time through, and often using vastly different image capturing devices, we hoped for those happy double exposed accidents. The results ranged from magical to non existent overexposure, but the concept of coming together was apparent beyond the prints. The random film share process brought everybody together; strangers, old classmates, new photographers, closet Boggle wizards, et al. A nurturing nest of photographic exploration was formed if you chose to help build it. Beyond the prints and the nest, we are coming together to aid our Japanese brothers and sisters. Ze cash monies from prints sold at the show will go to relief efforts in Japan.

Opens Friday April 29, 2011 at The Peace Cafe and runs until July1.

 Serendipitous photographic occurrences...

first exposure Natalie, shot straight 35mm. second exposure me, shot on Holga.

 

First exposure me, shot on Pentax 35mm. second exposure John, shot on TLR toy, i think? too lazy to scan and scrounge through the rest of negs for this one...

Just a little taste of whats to come from the 30+ participants. get excited. Come support Japan, the Analog Sunshine Recorders, and sample The Peace Cafe's yummy selection of vegan delights.

When I'm at the pearly gates, this will be on my videotape.

Too often my house becomes merely a place to lay my head after a long day. It doesn't get the celebration and appreciation it deserves. I love you home. You have 4 awesome walls and a killer roof. You cradle 7 humans, one dog and three cats in your cozy wooden embrace. You have the best Mobile Command Post in the world. You have a bad ass tree house...complete with a saxaphone playing enlightened inhabitant that tonally delivers equal parts psychological warfare and classy jazz lounge vibes on the daily. My life would be boring without hearing "The Flintstones" theme song, "If I Were a Rich Man" from Fiddler on the Roof, Sade's "Sweetest Taboo", followed by cochlea searing "experimental note finding" hour...in that order. 

On most weekends, I feel like I reclaim everything about this space that evades my work trodden weekday brain. It comes alive. It begs to be played with, if I'm willing. I remember that I have a bike, and surfboards, and cameras, and masks & fins, and bathing suits, and outdoor showers, and beach, and shells, and hiking trails, and friends, and time, and beauty all around me. and I remember that I am blessed. and that everything is good.   

love shack

Ke Nui Rd., Paumalū, Ko`olauloa, Oahu, Hawaii 

holgaroid experiment

view from on high

digitizing the family tree 1.1

This is my mom. She is a babe.

This pumpkin pie haircutted freak coulda been my dad. dodged a bullet there. jesus 

Some photos she took that i like.

digitizing the family tree 1.0

This is my dad. He is a mad scientist.

self portraits circa late 70s

Some photos he took that I like. 

 

I love the passing of time...

Days of Old

I'd give all wealth that years have piled,

The slow result of Life's decay,

To be once more a little child

For one bright summer-day.

Dared to Leap

Cousin Barnsy in Shediac, New Brunswick, Canada

Summer 2008

Today while cleaning, I found myself sorting through old articles and handout packets from high school creative writing class (yes i still have these items.) About once a year I'll bring it all off the dusty shelf for some inspiration...and of course to have a good laugh at myself back in the days of my boundless mental wanderlust and crappy angst riddled poetry writing. I found the above passage from Lewis Carroll's "Solitude" scrawled compulsively over an entire page...geeze

Train Station Experiments

There's something about trains and their place as the veins/bowels of a city that I've always admired. The musty damp pavement. The specific ambiance of inorganic lighting and shadow play on the walls, encased in a patina of grime associated with the perpetual motion of human life. The aroma of industry carried on the winds of passing cars. The perceived element of danger. The awkward social exchange shared/avoided by its passengers. The tunnels are alive and I'm in love with them.

A few experiments over the course of some days spent in transit in Sydney: a terrific city with tremendous public transit.

The waiting game

 Décollage

 Ang and Raquel probably sick of me sneaking photos

looking for her train ticket

Moments before boarding, in a drunken rage, this woman nearly fell in between the train and the platform. It was horrifying. I was too scared to take a direct photo of her, but i think the reflection works in this case.

Central Station

fresh off the plane. first night train to the ferry

passengers

 

 

Lost Another Soldier

Oh Rui, where do I begin. I finally got around to visiting school yesterday. The past few months have been trying to say the least. But alas, i returned to see the defiant walls of our medieval cinder block sanctuary, and I sauntered in through the drawbridge underbelly that is the sculpture loading dock. I expected to hear your voice radiating off the cement, filling the first floor with laughter and/or fear. Your voice's command was a gift and you used it wisely. Also I anticipated the great "Rui hug." The kind that engulfed me in the best of everything you were and made me feel like I was home again. Then Bronson told me you were gone. fuck. I shoulda come around more often. I didn't even know you were sick.


There are so many things I want to thank you for. Most notably, my degree. Without your raunchy comedic relief in critique, relentless daily professor heckling, and of course endless snack sharing; I never would have made it through. I would have been too quiet and intimidated to try for big ambitious projects or apply for BFA...and too hungry to stay awake.  

Ill always remember and thank you for our back breaking hours spent wall building and grass braiding at peles chair. That project changed my artistic practice and my life, as well as morphed my understanding of you...

 

...For crocheting a doggy condom/lipstick case for snoopy, actually implementing it, and then circulating these incriminating photos

..For this piece. It was so powerful watching its construction/reclamation of heritage and pride.

.  

...For your remarkable talent as a ceramists and for the many gifted mugs that will forever caffeinate me.  

..For being your amazing brilliant twisted self all the time without apologies or excuses. 

.

For delirious after hours studio conversations, toiling over the finishing touches of some project we'd procrastinated for three weeks. For the laughter. For the mochi crunch. For all of it. I love you. goodbye

seriously...

 

Mission Statement

San Francisco, CA

September 2010

YABBIE Dabba Do

 

The Glass is Always Greener

The Snake Pit
 Bray's Creek, NSW, Australia 

July 2009

my neighbors might be funny...