Site update: New video art stills posted to my site.

Click here To access a series of frame captures from the last year's worth of video art I have done. I have Quicktime encoded the lot of them and expect to have some samples up in the coming weeks. Let me know what you think. Post a comment or drop an email my way.

UPDATE Oct 4

I have posted Quicktime clips of the videos. They are all complete in duration though only low rez and smaller. Check them out and tell me what you think.

Long Weekend

Here I go...

I have watched Taxi Driver three times in the last few days. I decided to do a search for it and did not realize that it is a film often associated with John Hinckley and his attempt to assassinate President Reagan. Woah. I came across this letter, the one he wrote to Jodie Foster just before he was going of to try and kill the president. Spooky.

pyschoacoustic noise colors

A great mini description of colored noise...

Not by any means definitive, but interesting nonetheless.

A trip back before the Trip Home

I am due to be in Santa Barbara at the end of the week. Gram and Papa are celebrating their 50th Anniversary. It seems odd. Fifty years is quite a while. These days that would be a successful run for a major corporation, much less two people. There is something vaguely institutional about it: Come celebrate our Fiftieth Anniversary Sale: half off all Ladies' bowling shoes.

It is way too late to be carrying on like this, but I felt the need to acknowledge the weeks events and, specifically to comment on a chain of events that led me to this: Ascension which in turn led me down an oh so winding, crooked and lamenting path to Ashkelon Sain and his legacy in Trance to the Sun. What is particularly peculiar is that I "grew up" (if growing up takes place in your early twenties) in the presence of entirely too much meth, juvenile manic diary poetics and endless nights trying dearly to be as sensitive and Muse-ful as possible. I am feeling nostalgic and apologetic for this. I was, though tertiarily, a part of the "scenester" goth crowd in '94 and '95. We would spend time drinking Hot Spots shit coffee, full of speed and alcoholic nitrous excitement, smoking 20 or 30 cigarettes an hour, and really feeling on the verge of originality. Fortunately, I grew out of this, though there were some who I knew only as passing acquantance, who seemed like it was for real and it was a way of looking at the world that made sense. I think Ashkelon was like this, I didn't really ever know what he was about, except from what I could gather from his hanging around at Siena or Roma quietly taking in the scene. After spending the last few hours piecing together an image of him that speaks about his resilience as a musician and what he has meant to underground goth (darkie) music, I must admit I am impressed. I wish him luck with his future music projects.

Morning Pages

Julie Cameron, co-author of the Artist's Way is calling me to get it into gear again. Creativity is at a premium, innovation is of paramount importance, and I sit on the crest of a wave that is destined to crash without ever having began to think of swimming further out to sea.

What the fuck does that mean?

I don't think it means anything in particular. A vague and hapless attempt, perhaps, at trying to comment on the dire necessity that is my desire and ultimately, the success of my resilience as an artist, at least one in art school, who is trying to create meaningful work.

So?

I need to re-commit to the morning practice of writing three pages, long hand, every morning, stream-of-consciousness crap. It can serve as the journal space that I am in desperate need of, and it can serve to help alleviate some of the burden of the repetitiously considering the persistent thoughts that seem to adhere the walls of the house that is my mind.

Just in case you have Too Much Self-Esteem

It is just after first thing in the morning. I am doing various searches for various items, namely this, and, following a link came across Greg Pak, Filmmaker. He won a Student Academy Award, and is a Rhodes Scholar. I browsed the site. I perused former scholars and now sit with a pit in my stomach. I wonder what synchronous mechanisms are at work here?