Flipping through channels last night, I came across "Control". Whether or not you are familiar with or a fan of Joy Division, this is a must-see. The performances are astounding. The actors learned to play their instruments and sing, so the performances aren't dubbed. They are sublime.
This is the tragic story of a talented man, a short life, and an enduring impact. Put it on your Netflix. Set it on your TiVo. Do not miss this cinematic gem. That's an order.
Control itself is a funny thing. We lose it, give it up, or it ends up making us freaks. It's something you love (when you have it) or hate (when it's out of your hands or lorded over you). It's one of my favorite things. It's also something I'm learning to let go of. But, even that's a form of control, no?
Things are in a little bit of a spin for me at the moment. In a good way, though. My pet project just got a huge boost, which means a lot of work to do in a short time. Thus, my posts here will be a little less regular...but hopefully a bit better. There are no guarantees on that, however. I'm just being honest. I hope you will stay tuned, though. There will be interesting developments I hope to share here.
A lot of things will soon be out of my control. It's wonderful and knicker-twisting. I just hope I'll wear the dark circles well.
RUAWAKE...a wake-up call column of questions, answers, celebrations, fascinations and philosophications.
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label art. Show all posts
16 January 2009
23 September 2008
Not Sure What's Next
I'm kind of not sure what's going on with me. Perhaps it's a pseudo-corporate rebellion, a compulsion or obsession. All I want to do is listen to words of Trent Reznor and look at the art of Chuck Connelly I long to buy. When my hair grows out, I totally want him to do a portrait of me. If you are familiar with his art, you'll know there's no vanity in that desire. No telling what the end result would be, and that's the part I like best. (And, if you're still wondering what to get me for Christmas, there's another idea.)
Maybe I'm tapping a different creative vein. Since I'm stuck in re-writing purgatory right now, I can't move on to something new. This isn't a bad thing. Not this time. It's actually fantabulous. My "baby" is getting some attention, so she needs to be nipped and tucked. Hollywood likes it tight, you know. But, that means my creative brain can't move forward. It's revving in neutral, wheels spinning, and I'm beginning to jones. My right brain needs a fix, and bad. Picture Ewan McGregor in "Trainspotting". Not the nude scenes, but the part when he's going through heroin withdrawals. Not the worst toilet in Scotland scene, the one with the creepy creeping baby. Well, Ewan-as-Renton writhing in the bed is my creative lobe aching to move on to something new, but minus the profuse sweating and awful wallpaper.
Two more stories are brewing in my brain, and I've had to press pause. There's nothing worse than that. It's like cutting off circulation to a limb. The creative equivalent of all-dress-up-and-no-place-to-go or blue balls. It's pathetic. And you begin to panic because you are afraid that when you go to reach for it, it will be gone. You'll catch a glimpse of its back as it walks away from you, holding its middle finger high. Therefore, you can't let it all go. You become something of a "chippy", using just enough not to get sick. Because I can't tap the vein I want or give it what it needs, I've started using Reznor and Connelly as my Methadone. Their art is so visceral I feel like I am in the creative process when I listen to it or look at it. It's kind of groovy. Though, listening to Nine Inch Nails after midnight isn't highly recommended. It's like having a venti-triple-shot latte. The nights have been productive, but the mornings are rough.
With Trent and Chuck serving as surrogate mothers for my next two pieces, I'm not sure how they are going to turn out. I hope half as eloquent and interesting as those two gents are. But, I think the romantic-comedy in the hopper will be a tad outside the box.
Maybe I'm tapping a different creative vein. Since I'm stuck in re-writing purgatory right now, I can't move on to something new. This isn't a bad thing. Not this time. It's actually fantabulous. My "baby" is getting some attention, so she needs to be nipped and tucked. Hollywood likes it tight, you know. But, that means my creative brain can't move forward. It's revving in neutral, wheels spinning, and I'm beginning to jones. My right brain needs a fix, and bad. Picture Ewan McGregor in "Trainspotting". Not the nude scenes, but the part when he's going through heroin withdrawals. Not the worst toilet in Scotland scene, the one with the creepy creeping baby. Well, Ewan-as-Renton writhing in the bed is my creative lobe aching to move on to something new, but minus the profuse sweating and awful wallpaper.
Two more stories are brewing in my brain, and I've had to press pause. There's nothing worse than that. It's like cutting off circulation to a limb. The creative equivalent of all-dress-up-and-no-place-to-go or blue balls. It's pathetic. And you begin to panic because you are afraid that when you go to reach for it, it will be gone. You'll catch a glimpse of its back as it walks away from you, holding its middle finger high. Therefore, you can't let it all go. You become something of a "chippy", using just enough not to get sick. Because I can't tap the vein I want or give it what it needs, I've started using Reznor and Connelly as my Methadone. Their art is so visceral I feel like I am in the creative process when I listen to it or look at it. It's kind of groovy. Though, listening to Nine Inch Nails after midnight isn't highly recommended. It's like having a venti-triple-shot latte. The nights have been productive, but the mornings are rough.
With Trent and Chuck serving as surrogate mothers for my next two pieces, I'm not sure how they are going to turn out. I hope half as eloquent and interesting as those two gents are. But, I think the romantic-comedy in the hopper will be a tad outside the box.
30 November 2007
A Day Without Art
The first day of December is a day of remembrance. “World AIDS Day” is also “A Day Without Art”. Back in 1989, many artists chose to honor those lost to AIDS by not creating on December 1st. Theatres went dark. Galleries closed or shrouded the art. While some artists choose to show commemorative work on that day, others still choose not to create on December 1st. I am one of them.
Having gone to an art school, there was no way not to be touched by HIV/AIDS. While I have known many friends and acquaintances who were positive or had gone full-blown, I can’t say that one has died from it. But that’s only if I don’t count a suicide. I remember the pre-“cocktail” days when the loss of from AIDS was massive. There was a time when every obituary in the trades was a loss from that disease. Gratefully, that is now rare. But AIDS is still here. And, like most things from the 80s and 90s, it’s having a come back.
Condoms, people. Wear them. If not for fear of HIV, then what about Herpes, Chlamydia or even Syphilis, because that’s making a come back, too? I’m not about preaching abstinence. Sex is a fabulous part of life. I’m no saint, but I’ve not been able to master slutty. I am a natural born serial monogamist. Even my one-night stands turn into relationships. I’m so not one to judge, but I am one to question: Why wouldn’t you use a condom?
First of all, it takes away the question of who will sleep in the wet spot. Secondly, guys, it takes away the question of if she remembered to take her pill. Unless you’ve had a vasectomy, boys, a condom is the only way to be sure she won’t get pregnant...and even then you need to know how to use it right. Thirdly, there isn’t that much of a difference. Just find the condom you like best. I’m a Trojan fan. Don’t like the Durex, though.
We all would like to think we are bullet proof, or at least Teflon coated, but we aren’t. AIDS testing is no longer vogue, but it is prudent. And, for me, it is required. Until there is a committed relationship with all the proper paperwork, a raincoat is proper attire.
One boyfriend took my request as a bit of an insult. He asked me, “Why do you need a test? Do you think you might have slept with somebody wrong? I mean, I was in a relationship for seven years. I know I’m clean.”
I reminded him that his ex cheated on him, with at least one guy he knew of. Which goes to show that you might be monogamous, but that doesn’t mean your partner is. My point was that you never know until you know, and the only way to know is to be tested. It’s not about being “dirty” or sleeping with someone “wrong”. It’s not about judgment but knowledge. He saw my point and went willingly to the doctor. The swab up the urethra was a little surprising, but I reminded him what women go through for our annual pap. We both passed our tests with flying negatives, as we expected and, at the end of the day, he admitted his respect for my insistence.
To me, it’s not about expecting doom, but respecting yourself and those you love, or hope to one day. And, it’s a true test to see how much that person respects you. If he or she can’t commit to taking a test at your request, that can’t bode well for your future. And are you really willing to risk that?
Whether you choose to create on December 1st or not, please take a moment to think about how far we haven’t come in reducing HIV and AIDS. Then take a test. Or take someone to take their first test. Or buy a value pack of condoms and shag your lover senseless. However you chose to do December 1st, I wish you good health.
For information on free testing, visit: http://www.knowhivaids.org/
Having gone to an art school, there was no way not to be touched by HIV/AIDS. While I have known many friends and acquaintances who were positive or had gone full-blown, I can’t say that one has died from it. But that’s only if I don’t count a suicide. I remember the pre-“cocktail” days when the loss of from AIDS was massive. There was a time when every obituary in the trades was a loss from that disease. Gratefully, that is now rare. But AIDS is still here. And, like most things from the 80s and 90s, it’s having a come back.
Condoms, people. Wear them. If not for fear of HIV, then what about Herpes, Chlamydia or even Syphilis, because that’s making a come back, too? I’m not about preaching abstinence. Sex is a fabulous part of life. I’m no saint, but I’ve not been able to master slutty. I am a natural born serial monogamist. Even my one-night stands turn into relationships. I’m so not one to judge, but I am one to question: Why wouldn’t you use a condom?
First of all, it takes away the question of who will sleep in the wet spot. Secondly, guys, it takes away the question of if she remembered to take her pill. Unless you’ve had a vasectomy, boys, a condom is the only way to be sure she won’t get pregnant...and even then you need to know how to use it right. Thirdly, there isn’t that much of a difference. Just find the condom you like best. I’m a Trojan fan. Don’t like the Durex, though.
We all would like to think we are bullet proof, or at least Teflon coated, but we aren’t. AIDS testing is no longer vogue, but it is prudent. And, for me, it is required. Until there is a committed relationship with all the proper paperwork, a raincoat is proper attire.
One boyfriend took my request as a bit of an insult. He asked me, “Why do you need a test? Do you think you might have slept with somebody wrong? I mean, I was in a relationship for seven years. I know I’m clean.”
I reminded him that his ex cheated on him, with at least one guy he knew of. Which goes to show that you might be monogamous, but that doesn’t mean your partner is. My point was that you never know until you know, and the only way to know is to be tested. It’s not about being “dirty” or sleeping with someone “wrong”. It’s not about judgment but knowledge. He saw my point and went willingly to the doctor. The swab up the urethra was a little surprising, but I reminded him what women go through for our annual pap. We both passed our tests with flying negatives, as we expected and, at the end of the day, he admitted his respect for my insistence.
To me, it’s not about expecting doom, but respecting yourself and those you love, or hope to one day. And, it’s a true test to see how much that person respects you. If he or she can’t commit to taking a test at your request, that can’t bode well for your future. And are you really willing to risk that?
Whether you choose to create on December 1st or not, please take a moment to think about how far we haven’t come in reducing HIV and AIDS. Then take a test. Or take someone to take their first test. Or buy a value pack of condoms and shag your lover senseless. However you chose to do December 1st, I wish you good health.
For information on free testing, visit: http://www.knowhivaids.org/
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