Tag Archives: featured audio

Artist Statements, Current Journal, Expressive, Post-Treatment

Beyond the Pink Cloud

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"Beyond the Pink Cloud." 12/8/13. Acrylic paint, oil pastels, ink. 18x24".
“Beyond the Pink Cloud.” 12/8/13. Acrylic paint, oil pastels, resin sand, ink. 18×24″.

From my journal yesterday, immediately after finishing this painting:

I’ve got some cute little one-liners. I’ve got some snappy phrases that sound cool but don’t really mean anything. I don’t want to bullshit and I don’t wanna tag this with something that doesn’t represent it.

It took FOREVER to paint. So many layers, so much starting from scratch.

The truth is I’m sick, on the couch, and nothing is in my head. The truth is I’m not always SUPER BRILLIANT. And I don’t wanna not create just ’cause [whatever]. But I don’t really know what’s driving me right now. Maybe it’s just ’cause it’s what I feel like I’m supposed to do at this point. Which is lame but maybe that’s okay. I don’t know. Do I take a break or do I just keep going? Having a cold sucks. Feeling crummy physically is fucking with my ability to DO, which is fucking with my emotional well-being. Tomorrow I’m gonna get dressed and pretend I’m fine. Maybe I am. I guess?

I HATE giving the impression that I’m not doing well, especially when I’m not not doing well. I just have a cold! But if “success” is doing well (being happy) maybe it’s also being okay with acknowledging little hang-ups and demonstrating a progression beyond the pink cloud.

Maybe I’m too caught up in impressions in the first place. Living under a spotlight (even a little one) has its drawbacks. I hate feeling like (or realizing) that it’s influencing me in what I do or how I do it but – honestly – I wouldn’t be pushing myself like this if I didn’t feel like there was some expectation that I “produce.” Is that good or bad? I wanna call it ambition but it makes me feel small (I’m not a famous/important artist); it makes me feel like a joke. But I’m not. I’m okay. I just need to chill out.

It’s a fine line between humility and insecurity – between arrogance and self-esteem. I get carried away in both directions. I don’t need to “tenth step” my every thought / impulse. Hey, Sam: relax – everything’s cool. I know.

—–

I saw this article today about creativity.  There were two statements I really identified with.

  1. “The study shows that if you have the sneaking suspicion you might not belong, the act of being rejected confirms your interpretation. The effect can liberate creative people from the need to fit in and allow them to pursue their interests.”
  2. “To live creatively is a choice. You must make a commitment to your own mind and the possibility that you will not be accepted. You have to let go of satisfying people, often even yourself.“

That last part seemed especially relevant right now, given this new painting and last night’s journal entry. As I wrote about it, on the canvas [near top-center], “I can’t get to a place where I feel okay with what I’ve done.”

It made me think about what it means to be “beyond the pink cloud.” I think it means accepting that life isn’t always going to be 100% awesome all the time. I used to think that the most a person could hope for was “to be happy 50% of the time.” I don’t think that’s true anymore, but I still think it gets to something that might be true. I think a good aspiration might be “to be 50% happy all of the time” – by which I mean: even when things aren’t going so great, to be able to pause and recognize that I’m at least 50% okay… that some thing might be wrong – but not every thing is wrong; most things are okay.

—–

“Fragile is the hell we make for ourselves when we acknowledge that the spotlight’s on.” – from Fuck You, Ms. Rochelle by Dillinger Four

—–

  • Last time I was sick, I made this.
  • The range of textures (and the shadows they project) make this a difficult piece to photograph. I’ll be getting a better photo when I go to the print shop so I’ll replace it then.
  • Signed 12×16″ prints of “Beyond the Pink Cloud” are available in my webstore. Hit me up if you’re interested in purchasing the original 18×24″ painting.
Artist Statements, Expressive, Inpatient, Stories

Little Red Boy

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"Little Red Kid." 11/6/12. Crayon. 11x8½".
“Little Red Boy.” 11/6/12. Crayon. 11×8½”.

This was a treatment assignment, one morning in group. To draw a portrait of my “inner-child.” Or – more accurately – to let my inner child draw his own self-portrait (using just a few crayons (of my choice) and my non-dominant hand). So… this is me at age four.

There’s not much I feel like writing about it beyond that explanation, so here’s an excerpt from my “life story.” Since I’m pairing it with a drawing of me as a kid, I chose a part about my childhood but not that particular age.

—–

Sometime during third grade, it was decided that I’d test for Pine View, the “gifted” public school in south county. IQ of 140 or higher required for admission. My parents wouldn’t tell me what I scored because they didn’t want Racey and I comparing.

I started fourth grade at my new school and was relatively okay with the change. I got along with the other kids better than I had at other schools and some of my friends from the last one had made the switch as well. There was one important difference. I had always been the destroyer of other students without even having to try; I constantly got the best grades on everything with very little effort.  Some of the kids here though were smart. Maybe even as smart as me. That would’ve been okay had they not also been extremely motivated. Like me, they enjoyed being the best. Unlike me, they were willing to work for it. In hindsight I can also see that they had something with which I was almost totally unfamiliar: an alien concept called “self-esteem.” They wanted to get the highest grades they could, but seemed less concerned with how well their peers did. I, on the other hand, would be thrilled with any grade – no matter how low – so long as nobody else got a higher grade. They wanted As; I wanted to win the contest in my head. I needed to win the contest in my head. I may have been an uncontrollable, argumentative, morally-challenged basket case of a nine year-old, but so long as I was smarter than the other kids, that made it all okay, right?

It was time to buckle down, put in the necessary time and energy and learn to be proud of my achievements independent of the performance of my peers.

Yeah. Right.

I’m not sure if I was aware of it at all at the time, but I called an audible and went with a brilliant alternate strategy. “If victory’s not guaranteed, just don’t play.” I may not even know how to play chess, but if I never sit down at the board, all you can do is guess. I could be terrible but I could be Bobby fucking Fisher. Prove me wrong. You can’t.

From that point on, I did a half-assed job on everything. I was still well-spoken enough for everyone to know that I was intelligent; I had just opted out of the contest that might have given someone evidence that I wasn’t the most intelligent. The kids at Pine View loved to accuse each other of having parents that bribed the psychiatrists who administered their IQ tests for admission. I had the lowest grades in class, yet no one ever pointed at me. “Sam’s smart, he just doesn’t care.” Nothing could be further from the truth. I cared a lot. But what else could I do? Try, and risk failure? No way. These kids can’t think they’re better than me. I can’t think these kids are better than me.

—–

When fourth grade started, there was still only one band that I really gave a shit about. A couple months into the school year, they put out a new album. I had a bunch of favorites but, on the day I got it, the best song was “Brat.”

—–

Signed and numbered prints of “Little Red Boy” are listed for sale in my webstore.

Artist Statements, Cartoons, Post-Treatment, Punk rock

All Better

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narcotics anonymous NA blue book text cartoon
“All Better.” 11/12/13. Ink on book cover.

It’s not my favorite thing to acknowledge but I hit the reset button on my clean time over the summer. I was up to eleven months (which shattered the old record of thirty-one days). In any case, I’m back up to 103 days now and, today, I went to my “usual” NA meeting. It’s the only one I’ve ever been to in Jacksonville. As I sat there, I scribbled on the cover of my text.

“This is my first meeting in five weeks. Did I mention yet that I haven’t seen my counselor since September? How strange that I forgot to mention that…”

—–

I was listening to this song on my way home tonight. It’s got a couple lyrics that’ve always stuck out to me. I don’t always relate to them as much as I used to, but I still love it.

I can see the question across your face: “How can you live so trivially?” I’ve got my ways and I’ve got my techniques… Our lives are built on hurt and shame; it doesn’t mean they’re not okay.

– Dead Mechanical, “A Great Lie”

—–

Today’s piece reminds me of one from March, “My Treatment Plan.“

Artist Statements, Expressive, Outpatient, Punk rock, Status Update

Shit’s Perfect

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"Shit's Perfect." 2/27/13. Acrylic paint. 12½x4”.
“Shit’s Perfect.” 2/27/13. Acrylic paint. 12½x4”.

One of the assignments given at Tranquil Shores is to make something representative of your higher power. Back in February, somebody tipped me off that there was a huge foamboard by the dumpster. I went to check it out and found it captioned (in stick-on letters), “My Higher Power.” I wouldn’t normally think anything of somebody tossing some project but – in this case… this person’s higher power was in the garbage. This person’s higher power was garbage. How great is that?

Anyway, I cut it up for “canvas” and over the course of the next couple weeks made a few new pieces by painting over the photos and other crap they had glued to it.

Aside from something I made in September 2012 that’s covered in song lyrics, this is the only thing I’ve ever made with text that  I knowingly stole from somewhere else. (It’s from the chorus of “Mobbed By the 3s” by Toys That Kill). There’s just something about the phrase “shit’s perfect” that’s – well – perfect.

‘Cause it is perfect. Everything is. Good shit, bad shit, even literal shit – it’s all exactly as it’s supposed to be. And – on the other side of the coin – it just sounds snarky as fuck. Like, “Oh yeah, of course – shit’s perfect.”

And who doesn’t love some snarky bullshit?

Artist Statements, Cartoons, Post-Treatment, Punk rock, Status Update

Bad Weekend

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"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.

Punk rock, Status Update

Minor Threat and Ramshackle Glory

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My friend, Kyle, has me listening to Minor Threat for the first time in years. And these days, I can’t think about Minor Threat without thinking of a song by Ramshackle Glory (that’s one of my favorites). Here are two songs with selected lyrics from both.

Minor Threat – “In My Eyes”
You tell me that nothing matters
You’re just fucking scared
You tell me that I’m better
You just hate yourself
You tell me that you like her
You just wish you did
You tell me that I make no difference
Well at least I’m fucking trying

Ramshackle Glory – From Here to Utopia (A Song for the Desperate)

I’ve been listening to Minor Threat records all day and – shit – if I do not know every word. I sing along, as I tie off. And Ian screams he’s “out of step,” as I throw the cotton into the spoon and draw up into the syringe. I’ll know just what he means until I hit a vein. After that I won’t have to bother with knowing who I am, for a while at least. In a moment, the whole world is gonna melt around me and I’ll swear I don’t miss it, as I lie to you tonight. ‘Cause I’m afraid to look the world in the eyes. If nothing’s gonna change, well, then I ‘d rather die. … I’m too hopeless to look for a solution; I’m afraid that if I found one I’d be out of excuses for the way I waste away in the gutters that I chose, like fashion accessories to go with my dirty clothes. …
I want something more than an apology to say, when I look the world in the eyes. I’ll tell you, man – my friend William came to me with a message of hope. It went: “Fuck you and everything that you think you know. If you don’t step outside the things that you believe, they’re gonna kill you.” He said, “No one’s gonna stop you from dying young and miserable and right. If you want something better, you gotta put that shit aside.” ….
I’m not saying that we can’t change the world; everybody does at least a little bit of that. But I won’t shit myself – the way I’m living is a temper tantrum – and I need something else to stay alive. … I know it’s hard to give a shit sometimes, but promise me we’ll always try. ‘Cause I don’t wanna hate you and I don’t wanna hate me and I don’t wanna have to hate everything anymore.

—–

  • For more Ramshackle Glory, hit up their Bandcamp page, which has a ton of audio as well as links to buy physical records.
  • For more Minor Threat, visit your local mall.
Artist Statements, Cartoons, Punk rock

Ali-Jae

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"Ali-Jae." 7/22/13. Pencil and pen on newsprint. 8x13".
“Ali-Jae.” 7/22/13. Pencil and pen on newsprint. 8×13″.

I sat next to Ali-Jae in fifth grade science class. She knew who No Use For a Name and Ten Foot Pole were, which – of course – automatically made her the coolest person that ten year-old Sam had ever met.

About ten years later, somebody told me: “Ali-Jae is a Republican and a Christian now.”

I thought they were fucking with me! But it was true! I figured it was some kind of a weird phase; it’d only be a matter of time before she snapped out of it and went back to normal.

But she didn’t… Instead, she became a major obstacle in my endeavors to brand all Republicans as soulless destroyers of human life and (to a lesser extent) all Christians as passive and thoughtless. There was just no way to reconcile her existence with my ideas. Eventually, I had to grow up (just a little bit) and change the way I thought about other human beings.

Which is bullshit, man. (Life is so much easier in black and white).

Oh well – it’s still cool. People are people, I guess.

—–

Speaking of which…

The final lyric in this song (“People” by Andrew Jackson Jihad) – “I have faith in my fellow man and I only hope he has faith in me” – (I think) is wonderful. At least in an aspirational sense. It’s not too far off from something I wrote in my statement for “Tola’s Approach to Demons”:

I don’t believe in evil. I don’t believe that there’s such a thing as bad people. I have to think that way ’cause if I’m wrong, then I’m most certainly evil (I’m definitely a bad person). But I try really hard. So I give other people the benefit of the doubt. If someone does something fucked up, I choose to believe that they’re doing their best. (Their best just happens to be pretty terrible relative to average/acceptable standards). I try to keep that in mind whether we’re talking about some asshole on the sidewalk or someone like that kid that shot up Sandy Hook. It’s hard to give everyone that credit – that empathy – but I try. In return, I hope to get the same.

Humanity (as well as perception) are at the heart of a lot of Jihad songs. In “This is Not a War” (a song about the Occupy movement), Sean sings: “There is no enemy, there’s only dummies that also love their families.” And the refrain they’ve used more than any other is: “It’s harder to be yourself than it is to be anybody else.” So long as I remember to give that to other people at least as often as I give it to myself, that’s… – it’s not a bad mantra.

—–

(Somebody help me out… I could’ve sworn that lyric was used in a song before “Distance” and “Big Bird” but now I’m doubting myself).