Why I Fail

October 27, 2013

"Why I Fail." 12/8/12. Tempera, watercolor, oil pastel. 9x12".
“Why I Fail.” 12/8/12. Tempera, watercolor, oil pastel. 9×12″.

Initially, this was to be a painting of me and this girl, having a picnic under the shade of a tree. You know – cute, innocent. Except not really.

Toward the end of 2012, there were a couple times in the van when I took out my headphones and noticed that the female patients were a little more giggly than usual – and talking about trees. On both occasions, I was the only male in the van and had been listening to music but it was still pretty dumb insofar as it was painfully obvious. Trees was a code word (and not a particularly clever one). I didn’t say anything though (who was I to ruin their fun?) I just rolled my eyes and put my headphones back in.

But that’s how I got the idea and I thought was really clever. On the surface, it’d be really sweet and innocuous but – underlying that – something a little bolder. I wanted it to say, “Hey, I like you, you like me, we’re really cute together,” as well as, “I know what your little code word means and – oh –  here’s a picture of my dick — how ’bout that?“

So I set to work. First thing’s first: I needed to trace my penis (you know – the “tree” under which we’d be having our picnic). I chose not to start tracing from the bottom edge because I wanted to leave a little ambiguity. (Like, “Is this the whole thing? Maybe! Maybe not!”). After all, you don’t wanna give it all away, right? I still needed to camouflage it to some extent with branches and leaves, but I decided to draw the two of us sitting in the grass first.

I couldn’t fucking do it. I couldn’t get the characters to look the way that I wanted. I erased and began again over and over until I got frustrated. And then it occurred to me: this wonderful new thing (art) that had recently come into my life — I didn’t enjoy it because it was a way for me to showcase my dazzling fucking wit (or my penis), I enjoyed it because it was a way for me to legitimately work through my feelings and express myself authentically. This – what I was currently engaged in – was bullshit. And what do you know? Like so many of my mistakes and fuck-ups, both big and small, what was at the root of this misstep? My dick.

I changed course, painted without intent, and looked at the page. Yeah – there it was, right in front of me: WHY I FAIL.

—–

Aside from a commission, my first sale was for two pieces: this painting and a drawing.

My first sale as an artist was a painting of my dick.

The buyer had to have seen it, right? Jacob certainly spotted it when I posted it on Facebook back in December. I opted to respond vaguely with comments like, “Eye of the beholder, my friend!” (even when he posted his own derivative work on Imgur to support his interpretation).

I think I was scared because if I acknowledged  it, anyone that saw it could play mathematician based on the dimensions of the painting. Unless I also added that it wasn’t my entire penis. And then I’m suddenly the kid on the internet writing about how “my dick is at least this big (and who knows how much bigger?)!“

Which – now – I totally am anyway.

[By the way,  the answer: not that much].

tipjar

Diagram of Sickle Cell-Affected Brain

October 26, 2013

"Diagram of Sickle Cell-Affected Brain." 12/17/12. Colored pencil, ink, collage. 8x7½".
“Diagram of Sickle Cell-Affected Brain.” 12/17/12. Colored pencil, ink, collage. 8×7½”.

This was an assignment at the end of group one day. I forget the specifics, but I think it pretty much amounted to “here’s the outline of your brain – fill it in.”

While everything here is rooted in truth, there’s obviously a self-deprecating humor underlying it all.

I started to write up a statement but so much felt redundant when taken in conjunction with a lot of my other writing that’s already online here. Since it’s really sort of an index  of my brain anyway though, I decided to use this entry as a sort of directory. In the course of compiling it, however, I came to realize a few things…

First, I’m great at pointing out those weaknesses of mine that make me sympathetic (lovable), but am significantly less inclined to open up and and shine a spotlight on my more deplorable faults and flaws. Especially when it comes to dishonesty, manipulation, or anytime I’ve caused another person harm.

Second, when it comes to the things that have really hurt me: same problem. Hurts that I’ve conquered, I’ll talk about all day long because it feels like victory –  but the things that really left a scar: not so much. I’m embarrassed by them and they make me feel weak. (This is especially true of events from childhood that now seem petty or trivial).

Third, for a recovering heroin addict that still thinks about heroin on a daily (if not hourly) basis, I don’t seem to ever write about heroin, except in the past tense, like when I’m telling a story.

Fourth, while I’ve shared more of my thoughts on it than a lot of people ever will, I’m still pretty meek when it comes to writing about sex – at least relative to my approach to lots of other socially taboo subjects.

Anyway, here’s the little directory I put together with regard to each “segment” of my brain, as depicted in this drawing from December, although a few are either curiously thin or entirely absent…

Lovesickness (girls, relationships, and associated consequences)

  1. “Autobiography” (also re: “strategizing”)
  2. “Girls Are Not Pokemon”
  3. “Little Vomit-Colored Hearts”
  4. “Another Opportunity For Growth”
  5. “14”
  6. “The Island in Pinocchio Where Bad Kids Go to Be Bad”
  7. “Pulp”
  8. “Chrissy Fit”

 

Hope and faith

  1. “No Accident”
  2. “Maybe I Don’t Believe in God”
  3. “Everything Works Out Exactly As It Should”
  4. “Whatevermind”

 

Fear and doubt

  1. “Blueprint For a Successful Evening”
  2. “Ugly and Dreading Everything to Come”
  3. “Moving Boxes”

 

Peace / acceptance

  1. “Bug Problem”
  2. “Bright Side Nihilism: (Syria +/= Video Music Awards) < The Dog Peed on the Futon”
  3. “Whatevermind II (pinkhairdontcare)”

 

Staying sick

  1. “Still Sick (The Illest)”
  2. “My Treatment Plan”
  3. “All I Really Need to Know I Learned From a Drunk 14 Year Old at the Mall”
  4. “You Make Me a Worse Person (I’ll Feed My Negativity and Roast in My Fucking Hate)”

 

Self-image

  1. “Insecure and Overwhelmed”
  2. “Values Are For Shoppers”
  3. “Beachtown Graffiti”

 

Evil, sarcasm, provocation

  1. “Evil”
  2. “Merry Christmas 2K12”
  3. “Funny”
  4. “Toilet Humor (Sex With Children)”

 

Sex

  1. “Hard Feelings”

 

Neurotic and/or compulsive behavior

  1. “The No Self-Esteem Engine”
  2. “Walgreens is Dicks; I’m Irresponsible”
  3. This… what you’re reading right now… the fact that I’m still making this fucking list when I know that I really ought to stop, elaborate on the things that warrant elaboration and not just keep thinking up pieces that fall under each of these headings. But I’ve made it this far and I don’t want to feel like this was all for nothing….

—–

It was at this point that I paused and rewrote the introduction to this entry so as to include the things I learned about myself in the course of “curating” this directory. Although, remember – you can always use the search box at the bottom of every page to find content related to whatever you might be interested in. The tags just below the title of each entry can be useful too, although I haven’t always done a great job of using them as well as I really should. (I know of at least one tag that’s never been misapplied to an unrelated entry though)…

—–

tipjarThis entry is TOTALLY two to three hours past due but I was locked out of the site for a few hours on account of all the super 1337 h4x0r5 that have been fucking up my shit (and my webhost’s server) these last few days. I’m just glad they weren’t able to do any serious damage, so I’m not gonna bum out over the little stuff.

Diminishing Returns

October 25, 2013

"Diminishing Returns." 2/16/13. Acrylic paint, peptol-bismol, glue, on cardboard. 6x13".
“Diminishing Returns.” 2/16/13. Acrylic paint, peptol-bismol, glue, on cardboard. 6×13″.

Of the ten paintings in my series, “The Weak End,” this was the seventh. I had spent the last forty (of my waking) hours painting and it had begun to feel mechanical. I didn’t feel productive, creative, or fulfilled; I felt dull. “This is a television in the same sense that I’m an artist” means two things. First, that the thing in front of me, occupying all of my time, might as well have been a TV insofar as I had lost myself in it and was now just wasting time. Second, that while I might be performing the same functions as an artist, no one should ever mistake me for one; I was just some asshole, playing with paint, for nothing.

Initially, I titled this piece “Stop Now” because I felt like that’s what I ought to have done at the time. Instead, I told my inner-critic to shut the fuck up, set this piece aside, continued on to the last three pieces in the series, and – today – couldn’t be any happier that I did. While my self-deprecating title for this series of paintings is a reflection of my hurt feelings and self-loathing upon discovering (Monday morning) that I’d be moving out of Tranquil Shores, all of my experiences between Friday and Sunday (primarily comprised of this paint marathon), I think, were exactly what I needed to propel me forward and back out into the real world.

—–

This piece is available for purchase in my webstore

—–

The Weak End is a series of  ten paintings.

tipjar

All I Really Need to Know, I Learned From a Drunk 14 Year-Old at the Mall

"All I Really Need to Know I Learned From a Drunk 14 Year Old at the Mall." 10/25/13. Acrylic and spray paints, resin sand, and food coloring. 18x24" stretched canvas.
“All I Really Need to Know, I Learned From a Drunk 14 Year-Old at the Mall.” 10/25/13. Acrylic and spray paints, resin sand, and food coloring. 18×24″ stretched canvas.

Revision (10/30/13): This entry, as published, had no real statement or details. I wasn’t ready to share what was really happening at the time. I am now.

—–

It’s one thing to spill my own guts publicly – it’d be another to spill my girlfriend’s…

I guess the reasons aren’t so important – what’s relevant is that it’s been a rough week. As it goes at times like this, she pretty much shut down all lines of communication. She doesn’t say anything to me and responds to anything I say with as few syllables as possible. I (as usual) have plenty of work to distract myself with (and I did just that) but I did it while feeling shitty and unloved. We exist under the same roof, but totally apart from one another. Life goes on for the most part as if nothing’s wrong  but everything is very clearly wrong. The first couple days, I took it with understanding and compassion. And – to her credit – in moments, she catches herself; on Tuesday, she apologized for “being weird” and told me she loved me.  But it didn’t end there. By Thursday, I felt emotionally drained and physically exhausted.

Yesterday, I went to Sun-Ray and found out that I was about to have my first art show. I haven’t told her about it. I’m too excited, and  too afraid of how she might respond. Totally devoid of enthusiasm or support… I don’t wanna be in a position where I’ll have to figure out how to process something like that.

Maybe I should tell her and give her the opportunity to prove me wrong. But I just feel so detached.

After I got the news about Sun-Ray, I decided to budget in some canvases; I wanted to have a couple new pieces. I started painting this late last night and just finished.  It took me about ten hours in all. The smaller caption says, “I don’t need anything, I don’t need anyone, I don’t even care.” This is the kind of sentiment voiced by wounded little kids, shouting through their walls of affected apathy  – and by twenty-somethings soaking in grimy, self-loathing punk rock. (I ought to know, having been both).

It’s really easy to not care. It’s about the safest thing a person can commit to. It’s a middle road of low highs and high lows. Eventually though, it all goes grey; it’s not sustainable (or isn’t for me anyway). And the rewards that come from caring (from giving a shit)… I like to think they’re worth it – hard as it may be to recognize that while I’m actually down.

—–

Note: I feel obligated to remind anyone reading that this shit isn’t fair. My girlfriend is wonderful and human but – in any case – I’m pretty sure that, from her vantage point, things look a little different.  And I’m almost equally certain that she could tell this same story – just as truthfully – but with me as the villain. It just so happens that I have a website and she doesn’t. But my intent isn’t to cast anyone in a negative light, only to share my process. I hope that comes across and that no one takes this for anything more than a reflection of my feelings in a moment.

—–

tipjar

 

Bad Weekend

October 24, 2013

"Bad Weekend." 10/24/13. Pencil, pen, marker. 6x6½".
“Bad Weekend.” 10/24/13. Pencil, pen, marker. 6×6½”.

Like Bats 2013 fall tour posterLike Bats left to start their tour late last night. Though I recently made some adjustments to the cartoon I drew for them (for use as a tour poster) I was up before 6 AM this morning, so I figured I’d draw another cartoon inspired in part by one of the songs on their upcoming EP.

When I checked back in at Tranquil Shores (after getting kicked out) in October 2012, Like Bats had a show in Tampa just two days later that I was (consequently) unable to go to. It wasn’t until a month later that I found out they stopped by Tranquil Shores the next day to try and visit me. (Since I had just been readmitted, I wasn’t allowed visitors yet and they were turned away).

It’s been years since I saw Like Bats play live and I’ve never even met Matt and Alec, who stepped in when Kyle and Joey left the band. Seeing them play and seeing Mike and Dave (who’s on tour with them as usual) is one of the things I’m most excited about for next week.

It’s been a strange morning. (“Strange” being code for “I don’t feel like acknowledging what’s going on). When I first went outside today, it was early enough that it was still dark. And it was cold enough that I had to put on my jacket for the first time since February. I sat outside with coffee, pop tarts, cigarettes, and punk rock and thought about how much I missed rehab. A few minutes later, I realized I was sitting in some really shallow self-pity. I didn’t even know that I was necessarily upset, but I was embracing anything that made me feel sad – and reveling in how tragic it all felt. I was enjoying it in that way that kids like us do but – at the same time – I knew that a well-targeted attack/word could probably pull my pin like the Death Star and reduce me to a puddle – which would certainly take the fun out of it all.

I texted with a friend for a little bit and then drew this cartoon. I think I’ve got a grip on my day now.

—–

If you’re in any of these areas, go see Like Bats this week. They’re one of the best bands in existence today.

  • 10/24- Boston, MA @ Fort Warner w/Peeple Watchin’
  • 10/25- Hartford, CT @ Whitney House
  • 10/26- Brooklyn, NY @ Lulu’s
  • 10/27- Bethpage, NY @ Mr. Beery’s w/ Iron Chic
  • 10/28- Baltimore, MD @ Charm City Art Space w/ Sick Sick Birds
  • 10/30- Greenville, SC @ CFR
  • 10/31- Gainesville, FL / The Fest
  • 11/1- 10/31- Gainesville, FL / The Fest
  • 11/2- 10/31- Gainesville, FL / The Fest
  • 11/3- 10/31- Gainesville, FL / The Fest @ 1982
  • 11/4- Athens, GA @ Flicker Theatre and Bar w/ Two Hand Fools

Here’s the first song I ever heard by Like Bats; it’s called “Lousy” and I love it as much today as I ever have.

—–

If you missed it, go read the short story I wrote that Razorcake posted on their website yesterday. It’s about me fucking over Rational Anthem in the desert.

That Time I Fucked Over Rational Anthem in the Desert

October 23, 2013

rational_anthem_by_bambi_guthrie_thumbnail_and_top_image

In conjunction with my interview with the band (published in this month’s issue – #76), Razorcake Online just published a short story I wrote about one particularly ridiculous day on our tour back in 2009. You can read it on their website or you can even download it as an eBook! Technology, huh? Scope it out here.

One note: if this were written today, it’d have a radically different tone. My perception back then was pretty out of whack. I trust that you’ll be able to see through the author’s bullshit and identify the real villain and the real victims.

Update: The reviews are pouring in! (Via text messages).

Chris Hembrough says: “The desert story is really good. I got mad and then kinda sad and then kinda smiley .”

Dave Dillon says: “Read that story, its really great. I remember you saying you were writing it a long time ago. We’re hitting the road now. Youre going to fest right?”

Pete Stolp says: “Dude fantasy draft is going down right now.” [But he wasn’t on that tour so fuck him].

Whatevermind II (Pinkhairdontcare)

"Pinkhairdontcare." 5/12/13. Pen. 8x10".
“Whatevermind II (Pinkhairdontcare).” 5/12/13. Pen. 8×10″.

I shipped out the inserts for Rational Anthem’s Whatevermind LP this morning. Pictured above is the art that I made for those after I decided that my first attempt didn’t quite match the themes of the album.  The band should have the records for sale in time for Pre-Fest next week). “Pinkhairdontcare” is what some little girl nicknamed me while I was filming “No Real Than You Are” (or so I’m told). It was also the caption Van used when he posted his portrait of me on Facebook. My character wears a Rational Anthem shirt in most of his scenes so… – seems like an appropriate title.

Portrait by Van Jazmin.
Portrait by Van Jazmin.

—–

underwear_that_is_orangeToday’s been really pleasant. After the post office, I came back home to find a package from a friend, waiting by my door. Aside from the book and the “underwear that is orange,” it had a really nice card/letter. I also got a check in the mail and (now that my bank finally has a branch in this city) I was able to go deposit it. As you could probably tell from my newest painting, financial panic was starting to set in these last couple days. Yesterday, were I to set aside the money I’d need to pay my bills on the first of the month, I’d only have had five dollars to spare. And yet, one day later, I have enough of a cushion that I should be okay. I definitely still need to figure out some ways to branch out and sell more artwork because my current “situation” definitely isn’t sustainable but  I think things are gonna be alright (even if I don’t have any evidence to support that proposition!)

(I came up with an idea last night – something I’m planning on ending my entries with… While some people might find it objectionable, I’ve given it some thought and I’m comfortable with it. It won’t change the fact that I still need to “branch out” and reach a bigger audience, but it does have some potential to help facilitate that).

But anyway, riding around town, running errands – the weather’s nice, people are nice (they smile at me) – life is good. I was listening to Against Me! and it occurred to me that their strongest material is probably the stuff they recorded for Fat, which happens to be the period in which I paid them the least attention.

For example, is there any better sentence fragment than “…if this is how I communicate and demonstrate a love of life…” – from “T.S.R. (This Shit Rules)?”

And while I think their weakest releases (outside of the really early demos) are New Wave and (to a lesser extent) White Crosses, there are a handful of really strong songs there. I remember when WC came out, Taylor fucking hated whenever I’d listen to “Bamboo Bones,” mostly on account of the lyric, “what God doesn’t give to you, you’ve got to go and get for yourself.” I found it amusing – not because I wasn’t equally put off by all things even remotely religious or spiritual at the time – just because it was so against the grain. (I like anything that fucks with people just a little bit). It’s kind of brave in that sense: to sing about “God,” in that way, in a band with an audience like Against Me!’s. I don’t know what meaning the songwriter attaches to the word but, when you throw something that vague (and bold) into the world, you can bet it’s gonna be spun all kindsa ways by all kindsa people. Today, I like that lyric a lot.

I don’t really use the word “God” these days but, in the short period in which I was, I liked it. I might not have had the same meaning for it as anyone I spoke to, but it connected me with people that I don’t usually connect with – in a way that I don’t usually connect with anyone. And like today, it just felt nice. Pleasant.

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