The Artist's Sketchblog - Week # 1

So, for my seminar course in Digital Art I've been asked to either keep a sketchbook of project ideas/progress, or keep a blog that features some of my ongoing work.
Seeing as I already had this dusty old blog up and running, but haven't been doing much with it lately, I figured I'd just use what I already had as part of my seminar course (and this would be easier than keeping a sketchbook because I typically work out of four or five sketchbooks at a time). Consolidation of material via digital medium has proven to be much easier.
So, here we are-- Sketchblog #1.



The above image is one of the many scenes from the still-in-progress H1N1 animation (surface-adjustment stop motion) that I've been grappling with for the past several months.

Suffice it to say, the whole process is one of constant readjustment. I'm always having to stop and ask myself whether I'm getting off track or deviating too much from the original idea (and, if so, if this is a good thing or not).



Here's one of those readjustment sessions visualized. I do this probably once a week, and then post the spiderwebbing brain blurb somewhere near my workspace so that I'm up-to-date. This one is sitting on my desk right now next to my editing station of sorts. It may look like absolute chicken scratch to an outsider, but I understand where all of the arrows and squiggles and comments lead. It works for me, so I guess that's good enough.

Here are a few more images from my recent work on this project:

with purpose

Though I am not at home right now, I know that most surfaces in my bedroom are covered in a thin film of charcoal dust. It didn't strike me fully until I picked up a notebook and noticed that my fingertips had been smeared with black. I have been animating lately, and the tedious process of surface-adjustment stop motion animation is a messy one-- all scribbling and erasing and smudging and dusting off of charred vine and calcite chalk and graphite and loosened paper fibers. Today I will buy a proper mask from the local art store in town, not one of those basic "dust masks" that, even in wearing them religiously, still somehow leave me sore-throated and coughing and pneumoconiosis-symptomatic.

Yes, I want this project to be done, and equally so, I want nothing more than to scrub and power-wash everything. I have a little over a week of work time left.

Leafing through stacks of old documents yesterday, I realized how much the process of writing has continuously helped me to synthesize facts and deal with the stress and worry I so characteristically take on. I re-read some of my old poetry. It's funny how that works with me-- some pieces I realize are crap while others are vindicated. Most often, it's some combination thereof (i.e., I sometimes find gems in my writing amidst its piles of dirty socks).

Here's an excerpt from the first poem in a small series of pieces about my father and paternal grandfather. I use apples as a metaphor through which to explore their relationship, and my relationship with them.

"Grandfather first planted the saplings,/ knife roots gouging themselves deep/ into the Michigan soil. His sons later/ took on the burden of harvest, picked/ up fallen fruit in a storm of sharp/ words that, to my father, tasted bitter—/ like swallowing dark seeds full of cyanide./ No wonder he ran away at age seventeen/ to a desert where no apples grew, to paint/ still life after still life of perfect fruit, to grow/ capable of bruising his soft, red-haired wife."

My own analysis? Well, I feel the true strength in that segment starts at "No wonder" and not a moment before. Keep that, toss the rest? I might just have to rewrite this one, now.

Meanwhile, in the land of sound, I'm working on two projects. One is supplemented heavily with samples shared by the good folks at freesound, another is completely digitally programmed. I've a spoken word MIDI manipulation piece due this evening, and a remix due after that. For those of you interested, I'm working in Reason, DP by MOTU, and PureData.

And so, that all aside, there's also the question of teaching, preparing for my new class next semester.
Building syllabi. Writing teaching statements. Developing statements of purpose.

I like that phrase, and that idea: a statement of purpose.

That there is purpose behind what is said.

It also reminds me of the principles of mindful speech present in much Eastern philosophy, where words must pass through three gates (questions) before they are allowed to be spoken. According to this doctrine, you must ask yourself: Is what I am about to say kind? Is what I am about to say necessary? Is what I am about to say true? A fourth inquiry articulated by a 19th century philosopher asked whether speaking would improve on the silence at all.

I know I need to act with purpose more than I do presently, let alone speak and think (for what is thought, but internal banter?) with purpose.

Proactivity? Essential.

Stagnancy? Not allowed.

three seasons later

How to best summarize the months I've neglected to mention?

After Sundance last winter, I ended up spending some time in Utah, then moseyed back East where I made a stop in Pittsburgh. I spent a good portion of the spring between West Virginia and Kentucky finalizing the documentary, which we screened in-- what was it, mid to late May? Somewhere before then, I got word that I'd been accepted into a Digital Art MFA graduate program at Indiana University.

And here I am. I've been living in Bloomington since June, and I'll be here for at least three years.

Summer was slow and steamy, and in August I moved out of my temporary housing situation and into Skylab, a great old house from the 1920s that I hope to stay in for the duration of my graduate career. I'm not very good at accumulating furniture, so my studio hasn't really come together yet. That said, I do have a bed and a clunky old drafting table. It's a start.

I've gotten to know this unique little town over the past few months, and I'm finally starting to settle into life here. Bloomington has a remarkably vibrant music and arts scene considering its size and geography, and its eateries are notable, too. I've also managed to connect with wonderful people. I feel like I'm starting to establish a community. It's not huge, but it doesn't need to be. I'm not in a bad place. I'm slowly getting where I need to be.

Grad school, meanwhile, has been another adventure altogether. I'm struggling, admittedly, with the steepness of the learning curve-- I'm the only new student in this program who doesn't seem to have a formal digital technology/art school background. I studied literature in college for christ's sake. That said, I'm surviving. I'm not failing, just having to work extra hard. Welcome to graduate school, as my friend Lisa says. I'm also teaching, which is often frustrating with 60+ kids in the classroom. But then again, there are nice moments, and when it's good, it's really good.

Project wise, I've been doing a lot of stop-motion animation lately (a la the style pioneered by William Kentridge, graphite on paper, charcoal/chalk on paper) and sound art through my graduate seminar coursework and in a synth class through the Center for Electronic and Computer Music. Some songwriting, some poetry here and there.

I've realized I need to make music more present in my day-to-day life. Les and I need to play together, soon. Lots of my equipment is still in limbo in West Virginia at the recording studio, so I need to orchestrate a trip there minus vehicle (was in a wreck not too long ago-- my car was totaled and I've not yet replaced it). I'm thinking of maybe taking a bus and then renting a van once I get to WV. I'll figure it out.

Anyway, back to the world of academia. I'm off to a class.

Sundance 2009

This has been my best year out here so far, I think.

Not that things are much better per se than they ever have been as far as the festival is concerned (though HQ is more organized this year, and there seem to be less proverbial fires to put out). The greatest change that I have recognized is one that I myself have undergone.

Not being associated with a college is remarkably liberating. Previous years, I have felt somewhat tied down by being in school, and thus unable to consider actually pursuing any opportunities made available to me. This year I am unburdened by the prospect of returning to classes. It's lovely.

Aside from that, I find that I have much more focus this year. I know what I need to do, and likewise, have a pretty good idea about what I want to pursue in the film world. That said, I've been able to make some remarkable connections because of this clarity. Having the project from this past summer in Africa under my belt has also offered me a touch more legitimacy than I would have otherwise been granted. Now I need a finished product-- and that will come soon.

Anyway, my two favorite films so far at the festival have been: "Bronson" and "The Cove". The former is a narrative, darkly and richly done, about Charles Bronson, Britain's most violent prisoner. I don't know that there's anything about this movie that I didn't like, now that I think about it. Definitely one of my new favorites. Strange humor mixed with artfully chosen musical score (soaring opera, good 80s era electro, and so on), believable fight scenes, and then of course the remarkable performance of Tom Hardy, who beefed up substantially for the role. He looks downright threatening! I hope it comes to theatres soon so that I can share it with all of you. Supposedly it'll arrive in UK cinemas in March of this year. Suffice it to say, I am envious of the Brits. I want to see it again!

"The Cove" is a suspenseful documentary about the Japanese dolphin slaughter industry. It is exceptionally well made due in part to its funding from Lucas Light & Sound out in LA. (Wish all of us documentarians were so lucky!) But that said, it's a remarkable doc- something akin to Captain Planet meets Ocean's 11, and the lush cinematography doesn't hurt, either! It won the Audience Award at the festival for Best Documentary if I'm not mistaken -- and that award tends to go to genuinely good films.

If my opinion changes or these two are usurped by some other film(s), I'll let you know-- but so far I'm pretty solidly in love with "Bronson," and "The Cove" is worth seeing, too.

Right, more post-fest. All my love.

in limbo

Back in the United States now for over a month and a half. Both Mike and I have been recovering from the summer's experiences, though I don't think that either of us have quite gotten over the reverse culture shock of coming back to the United States, what with its clean water, antibiotics, fast food, SUVs, and oblivious citizens, nor the stark disparity between this world and Tanzania: our opportunities and conveniences and consumerism vs. their poverty and suffering.

Okay, so, maybe that's me making this a little bit more black and white, so to speak, than the issue really is. There’s poverty and suffering here in the United States, too, but the reality that most Americans probably couldn’t find Tanzania on a map is pretty disheartening to me.

Also, obesity is one of the biggest health care issues in the United States: illness and debilitation caused by, most often, an excess of calorie intake. There is a certain, undeniable irony in the fact that we Americans are dying from having too much food, while a good majority of the rest of the world is dying from the lack thereof.

As far as the projects go, both of us have been juggling writing/editing with college classes, work, and homework, (for Mike) and graduate school applications, funding applications, job-hunting, semi-homelessness (for me).

It's definitely challenging, and I fear more than anything else that people (namely, our donors) will not be sympathetic to my financial inability to simply sit around and edit all day, rather than attempt to pay off medical bills, apply to grad schools, seek alternate sources of funding, housing, etc.

Now I’m finishing up a ten-day stint in HD video editing training in Dallas granted to me by some very generous people at a production company down here. I've been mostly looking over the shoulders of broadcast engineers flying Quantel eQ editing bays. These are very high-end editing and color-correcting systems in video work, and as such are way beyond my financial reach in terms of what I’m going to be able to use to work on this little documentary (the new poor person’s editing studio: a Mac, Final Cut, and DVD Studio Pro, in essence), but I imagine that some of what I manage to soak up from this endeavor will translate into this project. I have learned quite a bit about HD color-correction (or color-grading, for those of you in the new school of digital video terminology), which will certainly help when it comes to cleaning up some of the rougher footage where, as was most often the case with Africa, I had little to no control whatsoever regarding location or lighting.

I leave Dallas tomorrow and fly back to West Virginia where all of my stuff (the cats, some boxes, the footage) is waiting for me. Over the weekend I'll transfer every bit of my footage to the external hard drive, and then, once I'm sure that's taken care of, probably hit the road and head down to Kentucky to begin some sort of translating, probably a transcription process at first, to be repeated at a later time and turned into subtitling, once I get all of the footage re-organized and a good storyboard set up using the documentarian's two best friends:

1) a really strict organizational system, and...

2) a wall full of post-it notes.

pangea

Got back to Berea in one piece, and was really quite thankful to make it there. I have my own issues with small-town-Kentucky, but they are minute compared to the somewhat uncomfortable relationship I have with West Virginia at times. As the late great Mr. Vonnegut would say, so it goes.

I leave in a few days to go back to WV and then fly out to Utah for the rest of the month. I'm sure it'll be a good trip, but I honestly have my reservations about some of the goings-on that I'll surely be paying privy to. AKA, paparazzi, celebrity-chasers, swag, etc.

Right now I'm up to my neck in Carillon, which means that I've been spending a lot of time surrounded by paper and photos at a table at Berea Coffee and Tea which, considering everyone knows me there, and considering the internet is readily available, has become sort of like an office for me over the past few days. Really my formatting ideas won't mean much until I meet with my wonderful editors. They're a team of superheroes. Sometimes I feel really inadequate as an Editor in Chief, but everything seems to be coming together, somehow, due mainly to them of course. The magazine is going to be much better this year, that's one thing I can be sure of.

In other news, that Dntel remix is coming along really nicely. Should have it on here mid February I think, as obviously I'll have no time to work on it while I'm at Sundance. I want a really organic sound, so I'm working with some recordings of wind chimes, street noises, some muffled beats, and I want to lay down a cello track (the final addition) after I get home from Utah. Right now it would be pointless, considering Beatrice (any cello over 150 years old deserves a name) needs to have her seams glued again, and that's not happening until after my return.

More soon.

fallen down house

After being away from home for four years now, I have to come to understand that visiting family has and will always be an experience of some sort or another. I'm in West Virginia at the moment, trying to breathe a bit before I pack my bags (Mike and I are leaving this evening).

It was a short trip this year (we drove in on the 24th). Anyway, I had to stick around Berea a little longer than expected this year in order to tie up some loose ends -- aka, I had to work on editing Carillon, work on the chapbook, take care of the cats, put together the new podcast, and then of course there's the new remix coming together: I recently acquired the vox track of Dntel's "Dumb Luck" from the album of the same name. I'll let everyone know when it's available.

Berea would have been a lonely place had it not been for the squatters. (Erin and Mike stayed at my house over the break - Erin for the first week before taking the train to Michigan, and Mike, well, has been camping at my place since the beginning of the break, and will be staying until the end, around the 2nd of January.) Good people = good company. Lots of really lovely dinners and hilarious conversations.

The drive to WV was uneventful aside from nearly hitting a beagle near Huntington.

The past couple of days in West Virginia, though short, have been pretty relaxing. Christmas, Mike and dad and I dug potatoes in the garden despite the cold, and then followed up our toiling with some time in the sauna.

Today Mike and I helped dad salvage wood from a house that had been torn down and then left to rot in a heap in Winona, a small hamlet of sorts a few miles away from us.

Winona is one of those little little impoverished creekside villages that seem to define rural West Virginia. Nestled in a narrow "holler" along a waterway that sinks into the New River Gorge, Winona is sweltering and a surreal green in the summer, full of timber rattlers and mosquitoes. Come winter the maples are stripped bare and the old narrow houses themselves, relics from when Winona was once a booming mining town, seem to sag even more than before on their crumbling foundations. The grayness of the place is startling, shaken only by the occasional bright red "rebel" flag, or, this time of year, large nylon inflatable Christmas characters - usually snowmen or Santa Clauses peppering the paper-strewn yards.

Mike and I were so taken by the strangeness of the environment around the crumpled house, by the bleakness and desecration of it, that we agreed to come back later for a photo shoot of the place, and did so.

Here's a photo from the trip. I'll put the rest of them up on Flikr eventually.

More eventually.