Tag Archives: featured audio

Artist Statements, Inpatient, Intentional

Spoiler Alert

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"Spoiler Alert." 11/3/12. Watercolor and colored pencil. 12x18".
“Spoiler Alert.” 11/3/12. Watercolor and colored pencil. 12×18″.

Alexis was planning on moving back into her parents’ house when she got out of treatment. She had the option of moving in with her grandmother, but didn’t want to for reasons she’d never really explained to me. When I’d try to talk to her seriously about why it was so dangerous for her to move back “home,” she’d use her little-girl voice, make puppy eyes at me, and say things like “But I wannnnnnna.” It was frustrating. I cared about her. If she moved back into that house, she’d be living with her sister, who I had also been in rehab with. And unlike this girl, her sister had never shown any interest (that I’d been able to pick up on anyway) in getting clean and getting her life together. Alexis was different. She had the potential to do really great things with her life really soon. Her insistence on moving “home” was the only indication that was wasn’t 100% set on really living. On being better.

“If you move back home, you know how that story ends.” She looked at me with a mock I-haven’t-the-faintest-idea expression. “No? Can I ruin the ending for you? You fall back into it, violate your probation, and go to jail.” She shrugged me off and kept trying to be cute. It was still more than a month down the road and – shit – she was pretty good at being cute. I gave in, laughed, told her we’d “revisit the subject.”

As time passed, I’d continue to let her know that I cared and try to lead her in a better direction but – ultimately – I knew I had to accept that it wasn’t something I could control and do my best to not stress out about it.

In the end, she moved back home and fell off, just as anyone could have predicted…

And now, she lives behind bars and gets to be a cautionary tale on my fucking website.

Which is so stupid and tragic and… insignificant.

I don’t know. It is and it isn’t – and it’s [whatever] to [whoever]. You try and make sense of the world… I’m just gonna stick with the comfortable little philosophy I’ve developed. Or maybe I’m just gonna elect not to think about it.

—–

She and I used to sit in the courtyard at Tranquil Shores and listen to records on my little portable turntable. Here’s the first song from one of the albums we spun the most. I love it a whole lot, but it makes me kinda sad sometimes.

“710” by Sundials

—–

That same month, she asked me if I’d make her a bracelet like the ones that I wore. The only reason it has my name on it is that she specifically requested it. I applied the color (which is hair dye) with a q-tip and a sewing needle.

Intentional, Post-Treatment, Stories

Calvin’s Alprazolam

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"Calvin's Alprazolam." 7/3/13. Graphic design. 4x2".
“Calvin’s Alprazolam.” 7/3/13. Graphic design. 4×2″.

I played Calvin Mather in the short film “No Real Than You Are.” During the four weeks I was in town to work on the movie, I tried to pitch in with whatever I could to be helpful. This is some of my “prop work”: a perfect replica of a Walgreens prescription label. Every detail is exactly as it would be if Calvin were… you know… not a character in a movie. That’s the address and phone number for the Walgreens closest to the address I chose for him (my last address before going to rehab in December 2011). It was a shitty little box of a studio apartment that had mushrooms growing out of the carpet. I pulled ’em out, sprayed fungicide and other assorted chemicals, but they’d always grow back. Eventually I relented and just accepted them as part of my home. I kinda liked ’em.

So while this isn’t anything like my usual “art,” I think it counts. I didn’t have a scanner so I had to create it from scratch – and everything is 100% dead on. (Go ahead! Pull out a prescription bottle from Walgreens and see how it measures up!)

Another project I did for the movie… The night before the filming of the first scene in which a character would be sniffing oxycodone, I found out that the powder the crew had been planning to use (instead of real drugs) wasn’t going to work. So Chris Spillane and I went to Walmart at 2am and bought vitamins, food dye, hose clamps, bowls, a lamp, and a lightbulb and cooked up a pile of “oxycodone” that looked extraordinarily like the real thing. Walmart probably gets its share of sketchy characters during the third shift, but I think Chris and I won the contest that night. We both had a pretty good time with the whole thing. I remember laughing a lot that night, especially while we were still in the store. Back at the apartment, I was reminded of being a seventeen year old drug dealer, cutting cocaine with vitamins and acetone.

A couple days later, when we ran out of the stuff and needed more, I had Chris – plus Tola and Alex (the production designer and leadman) – sitting on the floor in my apartment, grinding away at vitamins as I mixed, colored, and cooked them. It felt like I was actually running a fake drug manufacture scam!

I would have loved to have been the cashier that rang us up that night.
I would have loved to have been the cashier that rang us up.
I had to sleep with this light on all night so that it'd be ready to go in time for the shoot in the morning.
I had to sleep with the light on so our “drugs” would be ready for the shoot in the morning.

In case you’re wondering… while this is what went up the noses of the actors that sniffed “drugs,” it is not what my character was injecting whenever he did a shot. For that, I used blue Gatorade. While there were some concerns that injecting Gatorade might be dangerous… Back when I was shooting heroin everyday, I was pretty shiftless; if there was no water within reach but a bottle of Gatorade sitting next to me, I’d just put that in my spoon instead. Electrolytes are good for you, you guys.

—–

  • “No Real Than You Are” is currently raising money to help with the costs of post-production. If you’d like to contribute (or just watch the trailer), check out their Kickstarter page.

—–

Bent Outta Shape fans will probably enjoy that the RX# on Calvin’s prescription is telephone spelling for “IYDKMRNIGE.”

Current Journal, Expressive, Outpatient

Acceptance, Surrender, Resignation, Shit

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My counselor said I seemed different today. It wasn’t a change for the better. If I had to name it, I’d call it “Defeat.” I haven’t surrendered but there’s this bit of quiet resignation in me. I fight for myself but I think there’s a part of me that doesn’t actually believe I can win. I work toward my goals, I work for the life I want (everyday — and all day). But these goals may not be attainable. They’re as conceptual as my “belief” in a higher power. They are tools that keep me moving — they give me a reason to live, but they might not exist beyond that. My destination may be farther away than I’m able to travel in this lifetime.

"Acceptance, Surrender, Resignation, Shit." 4/16/13. Oil pastels, marker, pencil, pen. 6½x8½".

“Acceptance, Surrender, Resignation, Shit.” 4/16/13. Oil pastel, marker, pencil, pen. 6½x8½”.

I started this piece in February but struggled with it until it was finally finished in April. It seems appropriate here.

This entry is very much a continuation of its predecessor, earlier in the hour.

—–

This song is playing and I like it.

I’ve had an idea for a Crusades comic in my head for months now. Maybe I’ll actually draw it one day.

—–

Current Journal, Status Update

Journal: September 25, 2013

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I feel sick to my stomach but the problem is all in my head. Funny how that works, huh?

I remember when I used to directly address with total transparency whatever was crushing my fucking soul. These days, I don’t have the guts. I can’t handle the consequences.

This strikes me as the kind of shit someone writes or says when they’re relapsing. I’m not, but this is probably also the kind of shit someone writes *just before* they relapse.

Luckily, I know myself well enough to know two things. 1) If there were drugs right here, I’d be fucked; but immediate and effortless accessibility is a prerequisite for me to fuck up in that way. 2) I’m a fucking basketcase, overly invested in the present moment. So while I might feel like I’m in crisis right now – realistically – I’ll paint a fucking picture, go to bed, and tomorrow I’ll be manically happy about some stupid pop punk song and be okay until the next time something brings my regularly simmering gloom, shit, and misery to its boiling point.

I’m gonna go play with some fucking watercolors.

I don’t like this version of me. I don’t like that I allow things to affect me in this way. There have been moments when I’ve shown more strength than I am right now. I hate that I’m talking like this again. And so shortly after acknowledging and writing about the last time I found myself here.

Countdown to the feelings of shame, embarrassment, and regret consequent to writing this entry… 5, 4…

I have friends that call me when they’re in a rough spot. I have a lot of friends that turn to me when they’re struggling. But I don’t turn to anyone. I turn to the fucking internet. I don’t have the courage they have. Why am I better at being a comfort to others than I am to myself?

This song just came up on shuffle.

An F.Y.P cover by Off With Their Heads.

Artist Statements, Expressive, Outpatient, Punk rock

I’m Also Available to Babysit

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Just a few days after moving out of Tranquil Shores, I went to Artpool’s “Crafty Fest” to try and sell some of my paintings. I didn’t put my most “offensive” stuff out, but – early in – a kid came up to my table to look at everything with parents trailing behind. When mom and dad got closer I watched their faces change as the content of my stuff registered in their brains and they quickly hurried their kid along to the next table or booth. And then I watched this same exact sequence play out over and over throughout the day. So – right there at my table – I painted something new and laid it right out front.

"I'm Also Available to Babysit." 2/24/13. Acrylic on (what was) the front cover of a hardcover book. 9x12"
“I’m Also Available to Babysit.” 2/24/13. Acrylic on (what was) the front cover of a hardcover book. 9×12″.

A month or so after I made this, I got an email from Mike Duda asking if I still had it and how much I’d want for it. I think that was the first time someone had hit me up like that, so it was pretty great. That Mike is also responsible for writing and recording some of my favorite art (in his band, Like Bats) just made it that much cooler.

Here’s “The Last Catholic in America,” the last song on Like Bats’ debut full-length, Midwest Nothing.

 

Artist Statements, Cartoons, Inpatient, Punk rock

I’m a Fucking Artist, Guys

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"I'm a Fucking Artist, Guys." 12/14/12. Pen. 2x3".
“I’m a Fucking Artist, Guys.” 12/14/12. Pen. 2×3″.

I was sitting in someone’s coin-out [rehab graduation ceremony] and feeling a little upset over a girl [shockingly out of character, I know] and trying to do something productive. I had zero ideas though. I mean, once you’ve made ten or eleven pieces, what is there really left to do as an artist?  “What do other assholes draw?” I thought.

Campbell’s soup cans! Because it’s like… really clever, right?? Really, I just figured it was one of the few things I stood a chance at drawing somewhat recognizably.

When I was done, I wasn’t upset anymore – which means that this cartoon has basically the same story as HALF OF THE OTHER stuff I’ve made.

Which is cool…

 ——

Just recently, I realized that I stole this caption from Dear Landlord. Right before Dream Homes came out, Zack posted something online about the tracklisting being changed. The song “Bong Hits” was instead going to be titled “Rosa” because – as he put it – “We’re fucking artists, you guys.”

But the song – if any – that I might have thought I was ripping off is by Barrakuda McMurder.  It’s off Traffic Street’s 32nd release and has what’s probably my favorite title ever. Stream “Oh My God, You Guys, My Job Is So Annoying And My Life Is Seriously So Hard (You Guys)”  on Bandcamp.

Shoot me an email if you wanna buy this drawing for $2,000 (or a 4×4″ print for $50).


warhol parody campbell's soup

Artist Statements, Current Journal, Expressive, Inpatient, Photographs, Punk rock

Valuable Feedback

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It’s Tuesday – my one day of routine. I got home from my session and my meeting and found a package waiting for me.

Rumspringer's "Staying Afloat" LP and split 7-inch with Sister Kisser. Low Culture's "Screens" cassette.
Rumspringer’s “Staying Afloat” LP and split 7-inch with Sister Kisser. Low Culture’s “Screens” cassette.

I’m pretty sure that the colored vinyl has been sold out for a good while now, which would mean that Chris (of Dirt Cult Records) sent me one of the copies he had set aside – unprompted… because he’s a sweet, wonderful human being and probably figured that it’d make me smile.

Also, I know this is silly but (even though I’m sure it has nothing to do with me) it makes me happy that Rumspringer still use my handwriting on their records, inserts, and other stuff.

Low Culture is the new(ish) band from Chris and Joe of Shang-a-Lang. “Screens” is their debut full-length (CD/LP on Dirtnap; cassette on Dead Broke) and it was produced by Mark Ryan of The Marked Men, which is a really excellent pairing for them.

Here’s a stream of the Sister Kisser / Rumspringer split as well.

And here’s the only other piece to slip through the cracks early on (like “Dear Diary.”) It’s the fourth painting in “The Weak End” series and the text says, “WHAT YOU DO IS.”

“Valuable Feedback.” 2/16/13. Acrylics, resin sand, and fabric dye on cardboard. 16½x18”.
“Valuable Feedback.” 2/16/13. Acrylics, resin sand, and fabric dye on cardboard. 16½x18”.

When I threw this online before, I just noted the title and the text in relation to lyrics from “48 Doublestack” by Rivethead (We’ve rejected what you’ve got to show for the trade-off: a life spent just waiting for orders and taking the shit from the parents, the bullies, and bosses. The fault’s no one’s but your own ’cause you couldn’t stand up and say no). Which makes me feel a little… um… redundant, in light of “Stand Up and Say No,” “Mowgli,” “Whatevermind,” and (probably) a few others that escape me at the moment.

Anyway, this was an expressive process. I played with colors and shapes, then looked to them to lead me forward. I saw this slug-type character, reclined, which brought to mind someone who (so far as I could tell) did little but recline. And criticize. And had been offering a lot of advice lately. Which has always struck me as funny: the way that thoroughly unhappy people tend to give advice.

I won’t say whom I had in mind when I made this. Only because I think the negativity that’d come with the disclosure outweighs the value of the honesty and release that I’d get from it. And I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. This is, after all, a mean painting. And I was feeling mean when I made it. Because my feelings were hurt.

That’s the way it goes. Someone’s hurt. They respond with anger, to hurt the other person. Who then responds in the exact same way. It’s a sad, ridiculous cycle.

I can honestly say that I could make the disclosure (without ill will) at this point, but I can’t control whether this person would recognize that. And I’d rather not fan a flame / keep the cycle going.

—–

“The Weak End” series includes: