A pretentious poem.

He said:

There is no sense in retention of pretension;
Holding back the ecstasy of self to please unnamed gods of vice.
There are others that would tell you, tell you different advice.

There is no sense in retention of pretension,
It is all a lie.
There are others that would tell you, tell you without telling you why.

There is no sense in retention of pretension,
Vein attempts to fool.
There are others that would tell you, tell you only to make you their tool.

There is no sense in retention of pretension,
To thine own self be true
There are others that would tell you, tell you this is a lie -
and that will only make you blue.

*Blaaargh* It's art!

Art. I want to talk about art. Specifically, my art. First some background.

My time at Kwik Dry is closing... slower than I had thought. It turns out the one coworker, who was the catalyst for my leaving, has been fired because of some poor choices that involve the law. Basically it's really dumb what happened, but now his life is infinitely more complicated. I can't say that I am not satisfied with the outcome as I saw it coming. I hate to say this, but it's like there is a serendipity or karma in the universe and I got to witness it first hand (the phrase "I am Jack's smirking revenge" comes to mind to quote Fight Club). I do wish he didn't have to have THIS happen though to get his.

Also I have the Life Insurance Check that should allow me to float for the next few months. I do not have to leave Kwik Dry right away, but I do not like the hours I am working. Up to ten hours a day is too long and too much to give. I am usually too tired to create after a full day. Also I have to sort out the intellectual properties of my own designs I made on their computers while off the clock. One way or another they will be mine officially. Another thing to consider about getting my art groove is that I have finally began to properly recover from my previous relationship and get the beginnings of a sense of self again.

Right now, it seems to be about organization and the focus I need to accomplish the goal of being artsy yet financially independent.

I am reluctant to go full tilt into shirts because I have reservations about the Vinyl printing process, and I am sketchy about silk screening. I would love to do digital printing, but the 10 grand you need to get the machine and not to mention the cost of inks is a setback. I love to design the shirts, and I could go to Cafe Press or some such, but I do not like their costs. I could design shirts for other websites, I would get paid, but I could not make the design myself any longer. I also do not like to deal with inventory and having surplus shirts that I have no idea when and where they will sell. I love to design shirts for other people, but again the Vinyl process is limited... in fact they are great for work shirts, but not the artistic designs me and mine would implement. Also until I sort things out at Kwik Dry (who owns Dyno Graphix) and my original designs, I am not certian what I can can't do and not cause drama for myself or someone else.

So shirts are awkward at the moment and have been. They do make money though... and I need that.

Then there is art.... I love to make shit up. I love it. I love to write characters and motivations. I love when I write something and then it makes sudden sense with other things I write and they seem to go together seamlessly. I also like to draw pictures with these particular stories so you can see and feel what I see and feel. This makes me think comics are the way to go because I really love to study story telling. I have never written a proper comic though and I want it to be extraordinary to whomever reads it. I want them to have as much fun and think as much as I would with it.... This is a bit daunting for me. The time and it would take to put out issues or a webcomic is what unsettles me. I do not have a proper income and I am usually so exhausted with my day job that thinking about it at the end of the day becomes an exercise in tedium. Also there is always the terror of not finishing what I start. I hate that when other people do it, and I especially hate it when I do it. The flip side of this is that I know I could write a great story, I have been studying everything about writing for a couple years now, and I am gifted with words -at least that's what I believe - so a really good gripping comic might be something worth doing. Also writing at least two graphic novels - Necromancy High School and FLLOYD the Mutant Coffee Table are on my bucket list. This I think is just a matter of commitment... and I need a good plan to make it happen. I also have issue with the actual nuts and bolts of comic design. I have several books on the subject, but it's like the difference between having a map of a place and actually being there.

Then there is Art art. I love to draw some very silly shit. I get all caught up in it and I love it when it's stupid. That's because I believe that humor is sacred and that not enough people take it seriously as a vehicle for enlightenment. Which really, by it's nature, I understand why. For me however it allows me and others to tell the truth about us and our world without causing a holy war, a revolution, murder, or a billion other awful things we do to each other when our "truths" clash. The trick is while I want to draw and paint really stupid things, I have this need to be taken seriously, and the only way I can think to do that is do art people would just respect. Things like portraits, fruit bowls, and lighthouses (at least here in Toledo!) etc. The only way I can think of to merge the two together is to render a really stupid subject (Robot monkeys fighting Dragon riding Ninjas) and compose, render and detail so deeply and beautifully that no one could question it's quality and integrity. The only problem I see is, frankly, I am not that good of a painter. I can draw and sketch like a badass from the deep, but acrylics are not my thing I guess. I can also render some awesome stuff digitally, and when combined with my pencils and inks it's looks pretty tight if I say so myself. Although I was pleased with my water color pencils... and I like Pastels alright. The only thing I worry about is the cost of the supplies or the cost of making prints if I work Digitally.

So this is one big Blaaargh of my opinions about art and what I think is working for me and holding me back. The right now issue is what will make me money, the middle term is what do I want to focus on, and the long term is... still up in the air. The hard part is finding how I work, although comic art seems to be my strong point right at the moment. I will focus on that for now.

Now if I can just focus and stop playing that goddamn Bejeweled game!

Time to "Drive"

It is 1:08 in the morning on an early Tuesday. Fall is in full swing. I just finished being a Screamster and I made many friends. I am tired. Kwik Dry is ending this week and I will have to scramble to build the rest of my life.

This summer was so crazy! Between what was, for lack of a better term, an epic emotional breakdown, and just getting kicked in my metaphorical balls repeatedly. I sit here on the verge of a big empty space. It's like being on a ledge with a bungee cord I made myself and daring to jump.

I have quit Kwik Dry. I HAVE QUIT KWIK DRY! There is a big sense of: "Oh what the fuck have I done?!" because I do not have another job lined up, but I do have an insurance policy I cashed in that will last me a couple months. I have my studio for now, I have shirts to sell, I will have time to do my artwork, I can literally find ANY job and do it full time and still make more than I did at Kwik Dry. So in addition to "What have I done?!" there is this big beautiful sense of taking my fucking life back.

The day I quit there was that "tornado" storm that never really happened. I was working with my one co-worker who I am at odds with. The sirens went off at the Franklin Park mall and he flipped thinking we were going to die and wanted to go home. He called our office and they said not to worry and to do the job, the storm is far away. I did not know exactly what was going on so I I felt it best to hole up in the mall as opposed to getting pissed at what our bosses said and driving off "to go home" and then erratically going to the customer's house. I was calm through all this drama until he spilled my coffee by bumping up on a curb in the customer's neighborhood. The sky was dark and wind blew everywhere. It was then I lost my temper and said to either pick the mall or the customer's house (because it was 1220p and the job was at 1230p) to get somewhere where we are not in a van in a storm that could go very wrong. He started flipping out about how I was over reacting and afraid of the storm...

Let me say this. I never drove a car until I was twenty-nine. I have walked miles through ALL the weather North West Ohio can offer. I really DID walk five miles in the snow during a blizzard. I have been out in thunderstorms, blistering hot days, and some of the most beautiful weather situations I have ever seen. I knew this storm was nothing.. or at least I suspected - but with sirens going off, it's better to be safe than sorry.

So as I argued with him about his irrational stupidity (and he retorted about how I never listen and that HE is in charge), it occurred to me this was the third strike with this individual. There was an incident involving vacuum levels and an another incident where he pushed me in a customer's house (I did jump a shark that day on my own, but then he jumped a bigger shark...) I am glad the customer was not home when it happened. To this day I cannot believe that even happened, or that I never made him eat a steering wheel at a later point.

Third strike. While he's sitting there bitching about how I am the one over reacting I realize the song by Incubus - "Drive" has hit home in a very serious way. So while in the passenger seat of the van, I decided to quit. I had a plan...

In the customer's house, there was a simple job before us. Berber carpet and no furniture to be moved. As you probably know I am talkative. In this place, I was quiet, still, and resolved. While my co-worker was out in the van getting supplies I asked the lady for a garbage bag. I knew I would be walking later and I did not want to get my books wet (I had left my backpack at Cedar Point by accident). We completed the job and did well. We had a big gap and I knew we were going back to the mall.

In the mall after we separated I went to JC Penny's and bought a new laptop case to put my books in. It was pricier than I wanted, but durable and I was off the map anyway.

The time came to go to the next job which was three rooms - and I told him that I quit and I'm going for ice cream. I was going to tell my bosses after the ice cream (maybe before) that I am putting in my two weeks. My co-worker believed I was mad at our bosses, and I let him believe that because he is not someone I respect enough to tell him the truth. I know he would just get pissy in the mall and I don't need to deal with someone who is supposed to be "in charge" having a fit in public.

So on my way to Cold Stone to sort things out through pumpkin ice cream my big boss calls while I am in the bathroom. I explain to him the situation to a point and tell him I will talk later.

I eat my ice cream, which tastes like freedom - not exactly our forefathers-and-flag-waving-freedom, more like: "you are out of society and there is a no man's land before you so anything could happen sort of freedom." Which I actually enjoy in a sort of determined fatalistic way. Once you accept something as an answer, all the consequences -good and bad - are yours... which means now that that's sorted out you can plan from there. It's refreshing to take one's life into one's own hands sometimes.

After this ice cream of freedom, I walked to the office from the mall (about 7-8miles), met some lovely ladies at a gas station, the skies dark and light above me - dark, deep rain beginning to clear... and I discussed my future at a place where I worked for the past six years where they taught me so much... and why it's time for me to "Drive".