Category: Blog

Whtevr Yr Srchng 4

27/6/2017

I wrote a card the other day to my teacher, Tyler, at SAE where I am studying electronic music production. It was a brief note, thanking him for sharing his expansive knowledge with a selfless patience, empathy and his own easy style. I bought it from the Op shop for 50 cents. It had penguins on the covers, about 20 of them, 6 of them saying 'Cheers!'

What I noticed as I jerkily dragged the pen up and down and sideways across the glossy white rectangular paper to form the words is how out of practice my pensmanship is and realized that, apart from filling in a rare form here and there, it has probably been a couple of years since I've actually written anything on paper.

It's all iPad and computers these days, texting on the phone (Samsung Note), emails and poetry, essays and short stories in Pages. My typing speed is probably up there in the 40's by now. With delete, copy, paste, highlight and move, easy access to online dictionary, thesaurus and rhyming apps; using technology is smooth and productive.

It used to be that I kept hand written, hefty journals. Carried them around with me everywhere and wrote in them daily. Somewhere storage, stashed in boxes, they still exist - comics scrawled, ideas jotted, poems composed. From about 1980 to the mid 2000's. I'm not sure how many - fifty, a hundred?

Now my stuff goes straight to the cloud. I churn stuff out much faster, more consistently. I love it. The process has been streamlined. After decades of scratching and scribbling, I am happy to be speed tapping and screen reading.

Then there is this blog, Art Gets Me High. My forum for art/life/creativity related thought and feelings, like this. It's an outlet that I started on a whim and has now been ticking over for going on four to five years. I would not have written the contents herein in my journals. The immediacy of the connection - from my thoughts to immediately published online incites a directness, an enthusiasm and encourages off the cuff expression.

Truth is I don't know who exactly reads my stuff but it doesn't really matter. It's just nice to connect. To have a voice. To fill the void (my void, our void, the void.)

One thing I can find out is how many weekly visitors and page reads the site gets. There's some graphs and some numbers. I like to check them every few days just to see. The numbers have been steadily growing over the years and sometimes a sudden spike will surprise, perplex and mildly delight me. Someone is reading it. I'm not wasting my time. (Not that I ever thought I was. Numbers don't lie. Not like words can. Ha ha. Of course they can. It would be funny if actually they were randomly generated all this time and in fact the whole site was never even uploaded!)

The info page also tells me the origins of the visitors and pages landed. The other interesting thing that I noticed the other day is Search Terms. This month's one was pretty funny: theo single bed frame cream. What the?!

As best as I can work it out - the tag from Theo came from the name of the headmaster of the National Art School I attended in the early eighties. Single: my relationship status. Bed: where I love to spend much time. Frame: they hold my artworks. And cream: hmmm... with my ice coffees - but did I tag that?
Anyway, quite a search term. I wonder what that person was actually looking for. And when they landed on my site - did they read any of it. Get into it? I like to imagine they did. And that it liberated their minds - changed their lives forever. That's what it's for.

It's changed mine.

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We'll See

24/5/2016

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Last week, a twelve year old boy in Taree set fire to an important infrastructural cable box and cause a massive internet outage stretching all the way up the north coast. This included Mullumbimby. So we were without connection for about 24 hours +.

At the time, I didn't know it was the whole area down and tried various measures to investigate and fix what could have been just our household. Nothing worked. Offing and onning, plugging and unplugging; the usual stuff. Resigned, I just did other things with my time.

I am happy, of course, that it is now back on. Being online is fun. There are limitless pathways in all kinds of directions. Facebook, movies, news, editorials, humour, messaging friends, social updates, things for sale... Like I said; limitless.

Anyway, before we were reconnected, I thought back to the early days, back when I was in my teens and twenties. There was no internet then. Not even computers. And no mobile phones. It's weird to consider that now.

What was different? Well, for starters there was considerably more inter-personal relating. I refused to have a television for almost a decade. (I hated commercials. And the sameness and constriction, lack of choice of TV - especially back in the 80's.) So, there a lot more reading going on. And other simple pleasures like listening to music (records), staring at the covers, perusing and considering lyrics, making sculptures, making zines, painting, doing outdoorsy things.

Because it was harder to contact each other, we tended to stay in hubs, connect and co-ordinate activities together. It was surprising 'primitive' comparatively, for lack of better word. One could also say more grounded, basic, simple. And these are not bad things. In fact, they are overly diminished these days. A re-balancing is in order. (But unlikely.)

I'm a big fan of technology and use it often and thoroughly. I use my iPad to make music, I draw comics and create complex collages on my large screen phone. At home, I'm on my iMac in the evening, on Photoshop or Indesign, or scouring the net for juicy new things for a good four of five hours. I love the fact that I can have facetime with my brother and his boys in San Fran, that I can email my Mum a few times a week, send images via text, bounce emojis back and forth with friends, enjoy the variety of posts of my fb crew. I missed all that shit when the net was down. I noticed it's absence.

I even love the way I can write this journal, this blog, sitting in my room in my tiny town on the coast of Australia and post it upon completion and know that within minutes my friends in Japan, the US, Sweden, Germany, Brazil.... wherever... can read it, absorb it, comment if they want.

This kind of thing was unthinkable back in the late 70's and 80's. Now it is common. But still a thrill.

I am glad, though, that I was able to spend my first three decades in a simpler time. It was a good grounding. It was a different place. I appreciate both sides of the coin, equally. What is coming up is anyone's guess. Well, not really... we know some of the big stuff... augmented reality, 3D printing, electric transport, drones, flying cars, etc. Advancements are getting faster and faster. Hopefully human consciousness and awareness will stay aligned, at least catch up, so that everyone can have a fair go. At the moment, the imbalance is obvious, unjust and unsustainable. The ones with power are lacking in ethics. Oh, yeah, and our environment, the planet, seems to be heading towards possible self destruction. That.

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Something Weirdly Wonderful

22/6/2015

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Ultimately, that's what these blogs are. Written expansions and extrapolations of what is going on in my head. Probably only a few percent of the total is being recorded - but that is better than none. Also, usually it is a collection of the quality thoughts of the day. Why waste time writing down lesser observations, if more illuminating, enriching ones have occurred? But still, they are just one man talking to himself about what he is thinking, sometimes feeling/doing.

So, why bother? Well, good question. Why bother, why take up the time, the space? Because.... I am compelled. As an artist I am compelled to not only study and absorb as much as I can about others (especially interesting characters), but I also turn my dissecting, analytical gaze upon myself. And why not? I have full access. (Or think I do.)

It's not an ego thing, believe me. My ego - though at times certainly robust - especially around the 30's - is no longer a driving force or even a major consideration in my daily existence. It has been beat out of me. Life has battered it down, thrown it around and crushed it enough times now that it nows that it best just lie there and chill the fuck out.

These days I run on other juice. Higher plane stuff. Not lofty - hyper spiritual, dogmatic, superior or religious - just humble, glad to still be around, the simple things in life are the best, nature and children are delightful, I hope I can get through today without stress kinda existence. Many of you will relate, I am sure. Life teaches us all the same lessons. We just learn at different rates.

So these conversations with myself are something that we all do. I have just chosen to record some of mine. For amusement, research, prosperity's sake. I don't have a bank account to save money in, so I write a blog. It's a different kind of value. Someone expressing their truth. Someone connecting human to human without expecting anything in return. Someone expressing their limitations, their insecurities, their imperfections, their mundanity, their loneliness, their vulnerability along with their dreams and aspirations, their curiosity, their passion for play, for freedom, for truth.

What I always wanted, really wanted from late teens on was to break through, to transcend normal boundaries of consciousness, to access the pure stuff, the essence. I had a thirst for knowledge and experience that was unquenchable. I listened to, read, watched any and every bit of other creator's outputs that I could access. What were they saying? Had they been able to go further? And how? I was inspired by some books, some records, some movies. They possessed elements that were juicy, inspiring, dark, moving, strange, unique. Each was a piece of a giant puzzle. A puzzle way too large to even contemplate putting together. Still, I collected the pieces in a ferocious frenzy. And in the meantime, I lived out the daily drama of my life. I tried to keep it simple but life is never simple. And in retrospect, I am glad. I learnt most from the the gnarliest encounters. I grew most when it hurt.

Now, I can see the bigger picture. I have placed many of the pieces into position. Of course, I am still collecting. Everyday, in fact. But there are not as many pieces available. There are some gaps in the picture that I know should be filled but I cannot access or find the pieces. I have an inkling, though, of what I am looking for. And more to the point, I am happy to finally be assembling something, something that makes some kind of sense. At least to me. Perhaps only to me.

I won't try to describe it. In fact, I can't. Not yet. But I can create little pieces. Pieces of my own. My artworks, my daily comics, these blog entries. One day, they can be added to the bigger puzzle. They will fill in the final blanks. And then the picture will be complete.

That's a while off yet. I know because I can see how much needs to be done. And knowing that I have to do - that I have a mission to create pieces of juicy, dark, inspiring, strange, moving and unique pieces - not only to complete my own picture but to help fill in gaps in those of the new seekers, other foragers, hungry freaks - to now know that things are coming full circle brings me great relief and satisfaction. I am a part of something. Something weirdly wonderful.

Hang on. Have I just been talking to myself?

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self study

11/11/2014

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“Somewhere in the archives of crudest instinct is recorded the truth that it is better to be endangered and free than captive and comfortable.”

Tom Robbins said that. He's a wonderful, joyous, rollicking writer if you are ever interested in a fun and enlightening read. 'Even Cowgirls Get the Blues', 'Still Life With a Woodpecker". From down south USA, wrote his best stuff in the 70's. (What a decade!)

So, I read this quote and it resonated. Yes. Even when I am not writing in this blog, I am thinking about it. I'll get a subject and mull it over in my own mind. (For my personal enjoyment/distraction/development.) Then I will ask - is that something worth writing about? Is it going to shed any light for anyone? Is it something that, if explored in text, may expand, form tributaries, perhaps lead to somewhere interesting and engaging?

Sometimes I am feeling a little blah and I can't be bothered. I let the thoughts come and go. Sometimes I think it's not interesting enough to share. Sometimes I think: meh, what's the point? Really? The internet, the world is full of stuff that people write and have written about internal mechanisms and observations - why crowd it out even more?

That's why this quote kind of got me. Some things - especially truth - need to be released and shared. Who knows the result of their liberation from captivity. Isn't that the whole point of setting something free? You no longer control it. It can run wild. It is no longer yours to have expectations of, influence.

With all the bullshit in the world today, morsels of truth, honesty are a refreshing and enriching change. What is the point of reading all that crap in the papers, the bad news, all those pumped up, vapid articles in mags and on web sites about so-and-so doing this or that scandalous thing? Garbage.

We are glorious, enlightened, miraculous beings. (At our best.) We deserve to surround ourselves with - as much as possible - things that are lucid, pure, worthwhile, enriching. We need to elevate our consciousness - individually and collectively - to spearhead our way to a more enlightened humanity.

That is why I write in this blog. A tiny little voice, not practiced or showy, with nothing to promote or sell, no agenda. This is not PR. The is just a simple soul in a big complex, demanding world - like a bird, making a little chirp - before flying off, up into the sky. Back to hovering above the earth, in the clouds of imagination and freedom. A little, melodious, simple, one or two note song from the heart. I know there are other birds around, just like me. And some of them will hear my sound and find comfort.

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face addict

17/7/2014

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It's interesting. I have noticed something. Over the past six weeks, I have been spending my art hours doing portraits. No other imagery - just pictures of faces. I have been doing an average of four a day and have done over 160 of them. I have had a period of faces-only before, a few months ago, when I did 80 of them. This time, I wanted to do outdo myself and I have.

I have always loved drawing faces, starting from when I was twelve or thirteen. I would copy them out of comic books and magazines. They hold so much life and energy. Each one has a personality. There is lots of mood and so many ways you can take a portrait and portray a person.

The thing is, and this is what I have noticed: since only having faces to chose from as my daily output, I have been posting significantly less often on this artgetsmehigh blog. Often I would drag and drop one of my daily artworks and just start writing in response to it - a meditation on something, a poem, a memory... but with the faces, I am not so inclined. They do not encourage me to respond in the same way.

I do enjoy doing them and looking at them afterwards, as well as seeing them all lined up together, but they do not spark the same response in me that the random pictures do. I'm going to curtail my face marathon soon, I think. Maybe once I hit the 200 mark. Or maybe it's too late and I am too hooked in.

Addicted to face.

Addiction has to be faced.

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Whtevr Yr Srchng 4

We'll See

Something Weirdly Wonderful

self study

face addict

ART GETS ME HIGH

Author & Artist

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Whtevr Yr Srchng 4

We'll See

Something Weirdly Wonderful

self study

face addict

﻿ART ﻿﻿﻿GETS ME﻿ ﻿﻿HIGH﻿

﻿﻿Author & Artist﻿﻿

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ART GETS ME HIGH

Author & Artist