lessons on the half shelf

children and their art - fourth edition.

pg. 5
. . .art’s reputation must be due to the fact that it helps people to understand the world and themselves, and presents to their eyes what they have understood and believe to be true.”

pg. 8
“. . .art is an expression of a person’s reactions to experiences in his or her life, given form through the use of design and materials.”

pg. 9
“many innovations or movements in the modern era of art history began in revolutions against accepted artistic tradition or, in many instances, academic dogma.”

pg. 18
“the current scene in art is not dominated by a single style or movement, but exemplifies a pluralism that includes contemporary manifestations of nearly all that has gone before.”

pg. 19
“there is a time for children to focus on their attention on the external world and there is a time to honor their own dreams and inner desires; there should be opportunities to experiment with form; and there should be situations wherein the modes of one medium can borrow from another.”

pg.28
“since art is very personal, creative people must control the activities that engage them. to be in control of their work, artists must have freedom to choose both their subject matter and their manner of expression.”

pg. 29
“the freedom necessary for the success of an aesthetic act cannot be separated from the freedom of thought and action that is the prerogative of the individual living in a democracy. a fact generally overlooked is that art educators have been among the pioneers in developing a pedagogy compatible with democratic practices. what assisted them as much as anything else was their understanding that art could not be taught successfully unless it was presented in an atmosphere designed to develop individual and, in a sense, nonconformist expression.”

pg. 95
“art does not lend itself readily to rules and regulations, and any statement concerning principles must be outlined with caution.”

“should learners come to rely on the principles they have developed from their experiences to such an extent that they cease to look for new, deeper truths in art, their thinking will become stale. whatever universal beliefs we may hold about art must, it seems, be subject to continued revision and further inquiry. general truths about art, in short, must always be regarded in a pragmatic light. a principle may not be adequate when we have enjoyed new experiences and gained new insights into design.

the current attitude toward honesty in the use of materials reflects this idea. if we are still to hold to the idea that artists must respect the integrity of their materials and work from the accepted definitions of painting and sculpture, what are we to say of george sugarman, who paints his sculpture, or of marisol, who adds drawing to the same combination? should we adhere to the “rules” and reject their work, or should we keep ourselves open to the element of surprise and amusement when confronted with such combinations? obviously, today’s children should be prepared for the art of their time, and there is no reason why there cannot be room in their life for both the “integrity” of a fresco by michelangelo and the multimedia combines of robert rauschenberg. (we must bear in mind that in the opinion of many of his contemporaries, michelangelo violated the integrity of the human figure by distorting human proportions.)

each learner arrives at a personal statement of principles that reflects personal experience and its resulting insights. . .
. . .no matter what principles one may formulate, however, they should be employed only as temporary working hypotheses.”

glue

though few, the bonds i enjoy are absurdly dense and immeasurable. though, perhaps not entirely accurate to compare - my bonds are somewhat like a black hole: very attractive, lots of matter absorption, dense-like properties, infinite with no detectable beginning or end.  love is made of this kind of thing. an existence thrives on it.

shoulder over the shoulder

consistently often, i have chills of sorts. they are not apparent, and i'm not boisterous; sometimes i'm overwhelmed and i'll articulate more directly/physically,

if it's not the realization of how many hearts are beating at once, how fast the earth spins round itself(the sun, the galaxy, the universe), then it's how many blades of grass i'm seeing, how they all look like one, feeling all the itchy sensations in the skin, internal organs, cartilage movements, hairs blowing, sounds floating, colours trembling, things being

and i can feel the atomic presence - the connection. it's vibrant. it's tart. it glows. it blinds.
it says "there is no end to one thing, no beginning."

i may nod and whisper~

"it's fantastic and continually distracts me. . .  thank you."

poored

i'm poor, but i'm not dumps.

i continue to develop my ideas for these pieces i must somehow figure out how to build.  i talked about this with my friend "gold" at one point.  and just in that one talk i formed alot of structure for these otherwise ambiguous pieces.

through experience they (these pieces) have clobbed together into their own form of choice (it seem - it feels).  but they are currently beyond my skill to build as well as my wallet.
i've suffered a financial blow but my mind remains strongly on track.

in the meantime of repairing my broked wallet, i'm reading up on the various techniques it may take to build these pieces.  french carving styles, glass or plastic shaping resources and methods, mosaic tiling, lathe and plaster, wall papering, basic carpentry, etc.
additionally there is some historical methods and visual reference research i have to do.

the hardest part is the peripheral element.  i call it "peripheral" because it is an aspect of these pieces that they are familiar, "recognizable," but not upon close inspection.  not when you take that second look or get close.
"peripheral familiar" incidents is what i currently call these beasts.  "incident pillar"s are what i call their form.

my experiments continue.  sketches, research on real world occurrences of the "pf" factor; perhaps i should just call it the "pif" factor (composite shortening of peripheral incident familiar), experiments.

things are tough but i'm focusing on these expressions.  not just the pif, but all expression.

action packed.

silver naïf

we need to see each other

somehow beyond

what we each think

or know



we need each other

too much



when you are all

i am



we grow

spooky knuckle

i’m too happy to be sad.
no, correction, i’m too appreciative to find rest at any polar end; any end.
the way i see it, there are no ends. birth? death?
not: “in the middle,” “gray area”;
“all”
concepts, not beginning, not end; abstracts we arrive at to situate ourselves and make nice the continual congress held with instinct, intellect, intuition, wisdom, and the rest of the insinuate parties present.

my fragile outward crust gives fragile outward abbreviations
inept needles poking about exaggerations
trying to find the stitch in time to rhyme
along lines that cut the dime in half

my left nickel
upon a spooky knuckle
can be worth the whole of sentiment quilted in our nuclear present
its value sticks on the keys of our xyz’s

correction in the white out
noise of the clack and clack

the stable
where all rest just fine

and i’m screaming, “hay!”

tantrum epistaxis

i was crowded, and thought the world a bit tight. and right when i was getting ready to rip the mantle, my nose started bleeding. what timing!
my grays were so obliterated to black and whites that i stripped the threads and the earth reset.
just like that!
and i was all like "well shucks."

derivative of experience

the inflated planet above rolls around my brow; my lunatic infinite sil.  it happies my wig. shakes the knits in my knots waked - furious pans to sizzle the math of confusion; the hocks of nonsense. -to mix the stubborn real into my temporary excited calms.
enable is my palm, upended, to grab the ladle in the blind spot.  all amazed.  all at rest.  the rest.  of days.
i play my flute sharply-puncturing the 500-second flood into flat speed that flows and knows no frame.
it is my silver belt. for safety. for the sky.

hutchinson-bottled spirit

tonight i am imbibing from an 1800's hutchinson bottle.  i am attracted to certain things and this bottle style is one of those.  i've never seen this bottle before but it has many familiar, likable, tones that i respond instantly to.

i wanted to post this bit of stuff i wrote on the 26th but was unable to do so on facebooks limited "status" feature.  in ways, that is why i miss myspace as a medium for most of my friends and family.  i couldn't care less which of these mediums or methods worked, as long as the majority of those i intend to exchange with are subscribed to using them.

otherwise i could easily just write all these things down collect all the photos i feel to share and then find a nearby forest with arbitrary location and just dump it all there.  and then, only the really deserving of chance would find those words.  nonsense right?  indeed, how far does one take that line of thinking.

but for now here is what i wrote:

we are beings instinctually-tied to comfort, familiarity.  leap years are caulked in, calendars and week lengths are changed (maybe the 7-day should be reviewed?); time and association gifts lots of toys for everyone to play with.  arbitrary?  time is incomplete, it is a relative notion to provide us frames for expression of our observations and findings and statements of life.  space is likewise only relevant and not absolute as we'd like.  our earth spins as our latitudes command, all the while we spin about our solar neighbor, as we spin about our galactic neighborhood through an ever-changing address in the universe (tens of millions of miles displaced each day, x y z's never to be revisited).  but all the while we may have phrases and ideas such as "this was the exact location..." 
relative comfort benefits our shared knows of the lives we wonder in.  cherish, respect, appreciate, and enjoy the fabulous ingredients of existence; think beyond your do and do beyond your thoughts.


i believe i was responding to my frustration at the apparent lack of people who care to think things to any length of discovery.  maybe most people are too afraid of what they'll find.  but no, i don't think they are that aware, and only some of them do enough to find themselves too close to the edge of the world.  only so many learn that way "i'll never do that again."
and it's not just the meathead sports sorts that seem to be a cliche type these days(in commercials and around the lunchroom at works), i am disappointed in the intellectuals, or seemingly intellectuals.
i find that just because a person is "successful" published or "high achieving" does not mean they are a "thinker."  
it is incredibly frustrating!!  

to a certain extent you can only teach or explain something to someone, a human, so much.  humans have limitations to their biological(physical and mental combined) ability as any animal does.  to varying degrees we can employ our ability to learn a method or skill, to copy the actions required to do a thing, to get a result.  but even at that there are those who come up with less than satisfactory results regarding the success in the endeavour.

and i don't expect all humans to be able to be the same as all humans.
the abstract mind can think of things far beyond what reality can deliver - weltschmerz!  dang!
i just want my-sorts to get our crap together and find each other.  we are all out there in the world, time'sa wasting! 

words from m(my sil) somewhat about the above statement:  "those people, we people, we exist as certainly as the abstracts do. other people can seem to occlude us, in numbers and in seeming apathy, but we are out here." 

and regarding the people i am usually in contact with, that there isn't a sense that real communication is cared for, wanted, or felt - that most people ultimately act upon a want to "be heard" or to be entertained.  
also, that the way we think establishes reality. that sure, "it's all in our head" but then everything is in our head, even "given" concepts like time. so then, what is real and what is not? what is weird and what is normal? am i the one with the problem or is it the majority-else?
to that m said: 

"everyone has a problem, even if they don't recognize it, you know that.  comprehension, understanding, observation--all that good stuff, is an easy casualty."


my drink is done.  the night is young.  "my" night is young since i work the moth-shift(any customized shift that is neither a conventional "split-shift" or "night shift" but that still occurs in the darker hours mostly.)

most people don't seem to sense the effects of existence.  of perception and perspective.  of the world and it's prickle and tickle and meals of course.  "of course!"
i want thinkers and askers and those who demand "right" overeasy.  i want to share that breakfast we.
no more mournings spent with in/un-sensitive sorts who have better things to do than enjoy all existence and not just the blunt obvious artifacts.

 

accoutrement

shoes arrived just before christmas.  fortune, in a fortuneless time.  or a time with many failed endeavours.  but while the endeavours-failed, the experience is without value.  i have gained much observation and result.  i sense an enriched wisdom present.

if i failed to update this note, my eyeglass frames arrived and so soon i will fill the prescription.  money.  but things are on schedule or slightly ahead of.

fantastic sales at old navy netted some nice coverings for the coming chill(fortunately i know of certain locations that move my sizes and styles slower than others).  so far, the winter has been warm.  but winter is young yet and though the yield for snow may be frustratingly low, the chill does not care and will freeze our butts off just the same.

my beard continues it's journey, now - since the second week in october.  i just let it be what it will be. i try not to get in the way of it's nature.  
i find that i am a bit repulsed by decision and fuss of purpose and, well, basiclaly the human state of "me" and "mine" and "what i want"
i make do and tolerate this since i have the same feelings of "me."  i am "human."  we all have that state.
but i  don't feel so aligned or "easy" with  the emotion i observe versus the one that feels right or "easy" to me.  instincts such as emotion or breathing are not ones we struggle over to create.  we may influenece them after a time, learn their science, but for me when it comes to choice, i have a troubling layer.

jewelry.  i don't wear it necessarily.  hair styles?  not necessarily.  if i chose to cut then i am self-ish.  self-serving.  sure it is instinct to groom, to be healthy, to survive, etc. etc.
but there is a sense, a reaction, an emotion in me that does not like the sensation.
that i "like" something almost seems a choice.  a "me"ness.   
i live and sense, "liking" something is an observation of what one is familiar, attracted to, comfortable with, is conducive to or that brings positive results for the individual or what the individual assigns importance to.

some things, humans react negatively to if the nature is altered (piercing) while other things humans react negatively to if the nature is not altered (shaving).
and these ideals or ideas or associtions or whatever, are so fleeting.
i look at the "costumes" of the two last centuries.  i look at how we associate periods and times and romanticize stories by those costumes, those looks, periods of time now complete abstracts to all those living.  well anything 1930 and older.  only the living currently can express or appreciate the cosmogony, their bracket in time.  as they die, those brackets disappear.  recorded history even in the detail we have today cannot capture, for the new individual or the one existing outside of the bracket, the course of that context, that "personal bracketed cosmogony."

times change.  time is an abstract, it is relative.  we detect the changes assigned to the effect of time.  our perception of the indication that time exists.
words change meaning, clothing changes...  trends.  choice to subscribe or not to subscribe.

what a mess, i think.  so much fuss, i often say.  but it is the "way" of the bracket is it not?
and i'm continually in joy of it.  i sense it even when i cry out against it.  maybe i don't feel it is all right. it all often feels incomplete, failing to really capture what is going on.  or maybe it's that i'm surrounded by people who don't care or realize what is going on.  that they don't care to ask or question or search or discover.
maybe i'm  suffering rough edges from not enough like-minded rhythms around me.  no oil for my motors activity.

but somehow i persist.  not "somehow" because there is no question to why.  what i know is that "i work"

i am this way, that i am.  how far, how long does one question that?

am i questioning it now?   no, not really.  i am curious though.  but that is inherent.

i am material.  atoms perhaps.  bits.  stuff.  the same as what i observe.  

we each have this brain, this  "entity" physcally bound or enabled.  it exists amoung the mass of matter we call the human being.  the "body."

i move my hands each day and it is frightfully amazing. i can feel my pulse, i sense the movement of the universe.  i around it, or it around me?  science may prove all it wants, but what is science?  what is real?

does the continua exist regardless of our crap?  or does it all exist because of our crap?

i turn to share these happening thoughts with someone, this stuff of oddly-hidden pulses of the brain.

not until i take action, that is tangibley receivable, is any of it revealed, but revealed in wholly different ways - for the written word is not the way it originally appeared in my mind.  that stuff in the mind is unrecordable - for now. 

i must speak or write or record so that these thoughts may be shared.  because even at that, i have no one around me to receive these interpreted bits when i turn to phrase.

painting helps. drawing helps. finding mediums of expression. maybe that is why some of us become artists.  or display "artist" behaviour.  we just "need to" - it is a side effect, one could say, of the biological state or evolving genetic line that is in effect. 

this blog is labeled "exhaust" because it feels like that is what is happening.  expression in whatever form is an exhaust for the abstracts experienced in the mind. 

and once expelled there may be direct or indirect influence but the exhaust becomes static regarding it's existence in the mind - mainly , because it is no longer "in the mind" but "in the world" and separate from the mind's physical workings.  i tend to call exhaust "crap" or waste or trash, etc.  it is a statement of situation and not personal commentary.

so i will continue to express these ideas from my mind.  put them to tangible situation.   in whatever forms i am able to.

white noise

the "artist" i hope to be,

that i always have been

a hueman
is one that does not learn to paint
does not learn to be "artist"
does not have any singular purpose
but rather a purpose entire.
to live, and share, and reflect, and connect
and communicate and disseminate
those collected and experienced moments
of the abstracts of the mind
in the past, of the future, and with the present
-
to do so, utilize the surround to articulate
tangible currencies for exchange between the realms
of each of us. . . and whole of us.
whatever means to mean whatever needs.
-
a hue man "is" because of why? of what?
because they are published? represented?
raise high auction or attention?
because word or phrase exists to classify?
because they are known at all?
indeed, the artist makes quite a disturbance
even bereft of audience.
that an audience is enabled notice at all
is ultimately benefit to the audience, not the artist
-
an artist is the pearl no matter the beast
they are caste by

thus, it is the already-connection that benefits the

artist,  a benefit not sought - already ingredient felt

and known

perfect

i want to be as close to "black" as possible.  "possible"?
"as can be," then.
black as in "nothing."  as in "everything."
continua, the "always"
abstract befores and after, or our perception and ableness to dwell on them - confuse
or do they?  are the answers there?  always there? never there.
black is without spoil. black is initial, and whole.  white is stain and action and mess and fuss.
black is purity and all, not fragmented pieces holed up with intent and tions.
shuns? ..prevail in our human-intellected age.
instinct prevails with it's sex-induced propagation
but i am not so enabled with instinctual patrons.

litote commoner

all these compilations - age, incomplete times - ongoing.
i remain, myself.  despite myself.  never me, always change
rattles in the pocket.
upon the picks and knits of others, i remain
myself
but changing myself
amoung others
despite others
nothing to effort
every the effort demanded
but without condition

red seamer my

my bowler hides the cube
safely, softly, swiftly
i am protected by the same as that prevents
a mirror of tricks
a mirror that know balance despite intellects destruction
like the footsteps of instinct, my mirror in c'd keys feeds balance with instinctual confidence.
sex will out despite the grandioste plans of human intellect and so-called cultures.

fo' shoe

i had forgotten that i hadn't ordered my shoes yet!  additionally, i'd forgotten to write down on this blog-smear, that i had ordered my spectacles and they've arrived, just.

so i put in my order for some shoe.  i use zappos.  in the past there was another site i'd found that was cheaper than zappos, and between the two stores there were many styles available that neither would have had by themselves.  but over the last four years or so, i've come to like zappos.  perhaps a smidge of familiarity, some of it is the consistent feeling i receive from the design, functionality, service, range of styles available, and up-to-date-ness.

so shoe is on the way.  we'll see if all this christmas decemberist shopperism will slow the arrival of my new sole.
have to find a good optometrist to fill my prescription.  i don't just want any ol' shop.  i want a shop like the one i had found that closed a few years back.  they were so comfy.  a nice peculiar shop with huge spectacles outside for their sign.  i guess they were too peculiar.  visibility was not an issue.  just, maybe, they were too high-end coolness.

i had a rough weekend.  i fell down hard in ways.  but i'm still here.  the battle is an embrace, and i'm learning myself all the time.  new angles, new reflections.  realizations are vibrant these days.  i keep the momentum strong, it's important.  progress by action.  activity reveals much results which leads to much more stuff to make actions by.

oh, and dang it - rain again.  i've been waiting for snow.  i have the sleds a'ready, but no snow.  i've been looking forward to just the snow, something in me is not really caring about all this holiday stuff this 'round.  i like the season, i love the artifacts of culture and the fussery of all the do's of people.  i like the gaudy and kitsch of christmas and it's aggregated and confused state of association.
but for me, this year, just the snow.
i don't like being cold though.

otsu

乙(otsu) often appearing as a radical with other characters, this chinese/japanese character has been with me for some time. it can modify or mean all kinds of things, just like any word or character or piece of expression can do- especially when crossing over cultural or conventional lines. witty, with style, "b," ranking second, odd, quaint - these are some of the english equivalents to help describe what this conveys. "otsu" is not the only way it is spoken either; that depends on what characters it is radical to or placed amoung.

but i don't know japanese, so i will leave all of that research and curiosity to you to look up.

today, i am writing to talk about dinosaurs. specifically to express how, for whatever reasons, i tend to, or it turns out upon observation or discovery, that i like the odd, the rarefied, the quaint, the niche nook and shadow of things. i am not solely this way, but - on average, this is something that keeps occurring with me.

i remember when i was in my single digit ages feeling odd or that something was incomplete(my word i use now) or simply "not entirely right" when, in class there would be represented all manner of animal or idea but - not "all" that i felt or knew of. when the schools were teaching us about giraffes and deer and lions and elephants i was wanting to know more about kiwis and tapirs and other animals i could not name but had seen during my many travels to the library with my mom.

even later on in middle school and high school there was a very limited scope of information given about the world or ideas being discussed. this didn't change my curiosity and habits of discovery, if anything it showed me how important it was that i continue to self-study and ask everyone as many questions as i ever could.

often information or what someone says, professional or personal is full of leans and bias. and that's fine, generally it is not a mystery that we each are simply speaking of our own experience, filtered through what we each consider to be real. this can be overlooked however, especially if there is pressure from backers or supporters of what you are presenting - there is then pressure to support what you say or publish as absolute truth. confidence is good- important, but there is a balance to how you present something when sharing information or discovery.

dinosaurs though~
my earliest favourites were probably not dinosaurs at all but ancient sea reptiles(something they didn't teach at the time - everything was a dinosaur) such as tylosaurus or some sort of mosasaur. my first report and dinosaur fully researched was of deinonychus. this would've been around 1980 or 1981. i was captivated by the illustrations i had discovered (old gouache illustrated books from the 50s and 60s no doubt - i can still see the flying dinosaur with it's claw), but also in what i read about the dinosaur.

but short of being popular, the odd are left to be found by those who go searching for them. generally it is no accident or serendipity that i find the things i do. i could be dramatic or romantic and say that it is chance or serendipitous, but the facts support that the reason i will find odd things is because i'm looking for them(directly or indirectly). because i ask, and search, explore i inevitably discover equally odd hiding places of things related or not.

these peripherally-indirect discoveries happen all the time, every day. some more substantial, where they reveal whole ranges of paths to then research, while others are easily followed up on in one or two queries.

ancient creatures i love:

einosaurus: discovered in the mid 1980s but not named until later, this is probably one of the most irritating dinosaurs on my list. its rarity is not the sort that attracts attention. people may like the rare for rare or "being different"s sake, but not with good ol' einy. nope. this dino continues to be under-rendered and illustrated, though the united states did publish a stamp awhile back spotlighting this particular dino. as a note, there is argument about the differences of ceratopsids(dinosaurs with horns that look like triceratops) because some believe that some of the identified species are age variations of the same species.
my favourite dinosaur illustrator doug henderson, illustrated some drowned einosuars in 1988. i'd post a picture here but i don't have it digitally at the moment. i'll post a picture of it in a separate post later on so it's current as well as post it to this particular posting.

tylosaurus: not really rare but not as well talked about as plesiosaurus, elsamosaurus, or the big mouthed mosasaurs. tylo, is believed to have been a kind of ancient monitor lizard-like that returned to the sea.

platybelodon: a prototype (not necessarily ancestor) to the modern-day elephant, this guy existed during the miocene (a favourite time period of mine as well) from 5 to 20+ million years ago. lots of large and fantastic mammals during this time. many artists renderings of this creature have been very neat. there is still debate on the shape of it's face and possible trunk because of the various scar/markings on the skull from tendons and other attachments. i still like the short scooper nub that is illustrated with this creature. it's charming.

orthocone: a massive creature(cephalopod) that used to swim the paleozoic seas(mostly). my favourite ancient creatures are in the oceans.  i was captivated early-on by many of the underwater illustrations of ancient creatures or dinosaurs.  i probably have charles knight and zdeněk burian to thank for that.

exit-day philosopher

so here in the office i work, i regularly interact with a few associates to coordinate work and get necessary information for the night adventures of the insurance world. when i go to get the overview of the nightly itinerary and other bits, there are some fellow associates in the vicinity that i engage in mild pleasantries. of which, sometimes turn to mild stokes of philosophy.

i suppose november was a rough month for philosophical leans, because i was notified today that a couple-few of those associates had wondered where their end-of-day philosopher had gone. that i’d “been kind of quiet.” that i usually have interesting things to say or reveal.

it is curious how you can know something about yourself, know that others are also connected to you and that “it’s” not just about you, but still fall down on perhaps even the simplest efforts. actually, i thought i have been doing pretty well considering the stuff going through my mind recently, lots of flux and change, lots of exercising of habitual demons, etc.

it’s nice that i have a relative professional office-spaced rapport enough to have people communicate stuff like the above to me. connection and reflection help to keep one’s balance, to give gauge or key to stay on the right current.

sow the ends of a sad-sack

for fun, i calculated my own sad-sack date of death. or rather, the date that i would have to die on in order to not have a sad-sack death. this date occurs the furthest from my birthday but just shy of being over the halfway mark to my next birthday. this was based on or in response to the socio-conventional regard of the idea/expression “they died before their birthday.” usually it is a day before the birthday or wedding, etc. that has the most emotional or psychological impact from this scenario but i thought "how far does that extend?"

we will always die before a birthday as well as we will after a birthday. but to answer that arbitrary socio-bracketed concern, then one must die 5 months, 3 weeks, 6 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, and 59 seconds after their birthday (estimated to seconds only, leap year and other mathematical exceptions not adjusted for) for them not to have a sad-sack almost-birthday death.

for those curious, this means i have to live until or die on the evening of september 15. the year? well we’ll just see about that.

ha-ha ~ shooot.

turns of the canopy

the local maples fell into crazy over the weekend

the airs mad with confetti

exhilarant

". . . life is all kinds of ways, the way now is not set. we continually adjust and choose our days and moments. it’s an open story we write. and that is a gift of existence."