I've always had a very busy mind. Sometimes too busy. I try to quieten it with activities, distractions, exercise and sleep with varying degrees of success. Of course, making art is a great queller.
When I was younger, I would very easily be distracted by women. What a glorious distraction they are! I was able to keep myself busy running around chasing them, trying to escape them and making whoopee with them in all it's wonderful varieties, sexual and otherwise. These days I have quietened down somewhat. I'm not a young buck anymore and although the interest from my side has only waned to a degree the interest from the fairer sex has diminished substantially. A woman in her thirties is going to want a man in his thirties. Same for forties - it's only natural. Guys who are fifty plus can still be of interest but they need money, status or power. Personality alone will not get you across the line like it did decades ago. I have accepted this truth and focus my energy on generally enjoying life, nature, relationships without the constant sex drive. In some ways it's a relief. My mind, too, has quietened down to a manageable level. I remember in my 20's and 30's it was at times like a wild horse. I was worried. I got did anxiety management courses, saw counsellors, did therapy, yoga. It all helped. There were some times I doubted I would get this far. Now that I am here I feel happy to have survived. I've seen and done plenty. Now it's time to concentrate on creative output. I have been an artist, writer and performer for over thirty years. It's who I am. I embrace it fully now and seek to use the wisdom and experience to create work that will exhilarate and delight. I want to reach my potential as a creator, fulfill my ambitions as an artist. Make the sort of stuff that I always dreamed of seeing - on a wall, in the cinema and in books and comics. The apprentice
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(You don't want to become one!)
How to avoid? Try not to get captured in the first place Do this by: Laughing a lot, staring truth in the eye If you are captured, struggle to escape: Dig a tunnel in the night Join forces with others - they can help Friends and family are your allies Talk your way to freedom Share what is inside of you that troubles Search and find, invest in love and goodness Be nice to people, play with kids, spend time in nature Exercise more than normal Read books of quality, read comics, too Be creative - anything expressive - release Do not become A prisoner of yourself Found these old chestnuts in a box this morning. Six of my zines from the 90's. Used to love making them. Contents included poems, comics, short stories, funny lists and monologues. I used to print about 200 copies of each and hand them out for free. Altogether did about 45 different issues. The first and longest running title was 'Free Spirit'. In 2001, I compiled the best of the written work into a published book, 'All I Ever Wanted Is What I Know I Can Never Have.' It was a limited run of 500. All gone now.
Zines were a pre internet blog, I guess. Now I just got this. Press post, upload a pic. Full colour, published immediately. I have seen the future and I like it! It's good to be really excited about things! In the grammar of life exclamation marks hold an important place! They say young writers tend to over use them, abuse them, as they likely do their genitalia. But this is not a bad thing. It is natural. The younger you are the more excited you tend to get about things. What you don't know when you are young is that when you get older there are less things that make you excited - and we are no longer talking sexual here. We are talking general.
Things that stimulate and engage still occur and can be discovered, of course, but they are less frequent. It's like the saying that was so popular at the end of last century: BTDT. (I can't bring myself to typing out the actual words - it's not a phrase I never used or liked. It certainly did not excite me. Not like some phrases, such as the 70's classic - 'Keep on Truckin' often accompanied by the wonderful Robert Crumb illustration.) Whatchu talkin' about, Willis?! I guess I'm saying to anybody young - enjoy getting excited about stuff - and doing new and heart fluttering things. Life is stimulating in other ways as you age - but it is never as eye-poppingly vibrant as it is in the first few semesters. I had to cross the fjord
Enter a new realm Dance with fools Be reborn I found a new love I lost all I had On a deadman's gamble And it wasn't so bad I lifted some spirits I spat in fear's face Without too much effort I avoided the race The sunshine was sparkling The water was chilled Art and music were playing My inner child was thrilled We all love the weekends When we can be free Frivolous and festive The way we're born to be Dedication. Commitment. Passion.
Mix together. Be consumed. It's easy - after the first 30 years! Devote yourself to expressing your truth and vision through the arts - and whatever else happens in your life, there will always be a reason to live. (This has been an unpaid announcement.) In social terms you may be a povo, but in your heart and mind you will be a king! I remember the exact moment it started. My brother, Mook, showed me two photos of himself - one in a giant field of flowers somewhere in South Australia and the other abseiling down a cave hole. Both were taken while he was working as a production manager on a Japanese ad. At the time he was working in Tokyo for a local production co. I was working as a freelance illustrator, just back from a year and a half in Tokyo. The pictures stirred my hunger for adventure. You get paid to do that? I asked. Any chance I can come along and help out next time?It was the beginning of a decade of awesome experiences together. All across Australia and NZ. Got to captain a snow mobile in a blizzard rescue, reverse bungy jump, visit Whaling towns, sleep underground in Cooper Peedy, chase the Indian Pacific overland from Sydney to Perth... I consider myself very lucky. Met and befriended some awesome people, too. And all from a little tingly feeling, an intuition when I saw those pictures. I knew I should join in. One step. Just ask. You may well receive.
I like painting skulls. They have had an allure since I was a kid. Nothing to lose, I guess, when you are already dead. A symbol of our mortality - but also a brazen laugh in the face of death - an invitation to live on the edge.
As can be witnessed by my portfolio of work - I also like painting skulls with meat on them - often referred to as 'faces'. I've been drawing faces - copying them from comics and magazines since I was about fourteen. I find there a few things more dynamic and engaging. Evocative, full of character. Somehow, skulls too, can have plenty of character. ---------------------- I was thinking when I woke up this morning about the process of writing this blog. Why I do it and what I anticipate can be gained by it. One thing interesting, I can say is that I recently found an journal from when I was about 24 - in a poem I was questioning why I write - why I speculate about existence - asking what it all means. I really enjoyed re-reading what I had written from the perspective of nearly three decades later. Some of my questions had been answered, some of the mystery of my future - now lived and revealed - has filled in the blanks of my anticipation from back then. I can really feel the youthful exuberance in my wanting to know what was to come back then. I have done many things, experienced much over the last few decades. Some of it much more exciting and wonderful than ever expected. Some trying times, too. Worse than anticipated. Of course, for every path chosen, there are ten others that are sacrificed. When one gets older it's easy to look back at certain forks in the road and think 'what if..." I have been keeping journals - of my thoughts, poetry, ideas, short stories, comedy bit, etc all the way through. Most of them are buried away in storage. One day it will be fun to read them. I think its a good practice to keep them - I certainly enjoy it/ couldn't do with out it. And now with this blog - a welcome edition to the recorded speculation, headspace diary - I am able to add fresh artworks - often used as a catalyst for free associating / writing whatever comes out. So what is to be gained? It doesn't matter. It's worth doing. It's a form of mining. For what? For veins of truth, profundity. It's rare to strike and the work is labour intensive and a bit messy - but there is a chance of striking gold - a fresh revelation, an epiphany, soulful nourishment. You might even uncover an old skull Carry on, son
Take the next step forward Life is a journey You pay the price When you can afford it Little by little The world opens brightly You'll find yourself one day When you're not grasping tightly Don't be afraid There is no need to fear Trust in yourself And then disappear Into a new dream Let's call it your life Till you wake up tomorrow And dream in the light Carry on, son Your footsteps are soothing And old man is waiting To hear your heart beating Your choices and actions Will dictate your path You'll know all is right If you can cry till you laugh Feel all the love You can while you are living Give, give for good Find things to believe in Do what you know Is proper and right Be the man who inspires One who lives in the light Carry on, son Carry on, son You are doing alright It's not always easy to keep up your enthusiasm. But it is essential. Just like with marriage, kids and .... you have to commit to your art for it to work out well.
Along the way there will likely be grants denied, missed prizes, flubbed sales, lack of interest, failed exhibitions - this is starting to sound like my resume - and times of self doubt. But cheer up, pup. Stick out that tongue and get back to leg humping (analogy for making art). It's what you do best. Actually, it's pretty much all you are good for. As Henry Mitchell wisely noted: "All anybody needs to know about prizes is that Mozart never won one." (Neither did Henry - but that's another story.) When things don't go according to your (lack of) plans, just shrug (metaphorically is fine) and go back to what it is you love most. Making pictures. It's what you were born for and it will likely be your salvation. Re-ignite your passion, pup! Made friends with this dude through facebook. He posts his new paintings periodically and whenever there's a new one - like this - his latest - I get blown away. Can't quite put my finger on why I like them so much - but I do!
The artist's name is Mark Keilkucki and this painting is called 'Drifting'. His work is for sale and very reasonably priced I think. If I wasn't a povo artist and instead a wealthy collector, I'd be snapping them up with glee and relish. Have a look at his site and witness his fine form and style. There's one in particular that fully blows me away. See if you can guess which one it is. (Click on the image to link to Mark's site.) Ahh.. the grand illusion. We live it. It's a divine concoction, a gargantuan giggle just beyond grasp, an immense, epic narration that never lags or falters.
Spellbound! Even in my most lucid moments, I feel like the miniscule fleck I am when I try to comprehend the nature of existence. So why bother?, one may ask. And the answer is - a lot of the time I don't. But it is in my nature as an artist, philosopher and poet - to do so. The eternal quest for meaning, answers, validation. It's clear to see that it is a noble pursuit but one that will never end in any lasting resolution. Don Quixote springs to mind. Glorious madman of resounding sanity! And that's how it should be, damnit! An infinite mystery, that folds in on itself, over and over, forever. Again, so why bother? Because we can. Because we must. Because we like to. Perplexed by the complex puzzle we are addicted to mortal attempts to uncover clues that will get us closer to solving it. It's something to do. Something to enjoy. It makes you feel alive. And what is being alive if not deeply speculating on what it is to be alive? Excuse me, I think I will have some breakfast now. Philosophy so makes thee peckish. Uncovered one of my journals from 1987 today. I haven't seen it since then - so was fun to flick through. I have to be honest, I was hoping for/half expecting some gems of genius - but they weren't to be found. Perhaps they fell out or evaporated over time!
What was inside were a number of poems, some song lyrics, two short stories (one unfinished), and about a dozen 'snippet' single frame comics. It was vaguely interesting to catch a glimpse of the headspace of the 'me' from 26 years ago. I can objectively report that I have matured to a degree since then and that my work has improved in scope and delivery. Other than that - still doing pretty much the same thing - making art, writing fiction, creating comics.... Did this one today. Got a lot of satisfaction from the outcome. I really like this image and look forward to re-interpreting it into a large canvas.
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ART GETS ME HIGHAuthor & ArtistLewie JPD Archives
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