Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Giant Robot X Lumbang
Giant Robot #61 greeted me from the mailbox yesterday! I absolutely LOVE this magazine. I'm so inspired to make art, make a statement, and even just to live every time I get a new issue.
#61's cover has one of Philip Lumbang's uber-polite bears that can be seen in galleries and on walls all over LA. Inside there is an interview with him by Eric Nakamura. Lumbang talks about inspirations, the original Cartoon Network + Hanna-Barbera, and making art on the street. He also talks about his days at Studio Number One and what it was like working for Shepard Fairey.
Check it out!
"I'm not trying to say that I'm the shit or that my crew's the best. I'm just trying to sprinkle some smiles around the neighborhood."
-Philip Lumbang
for more info: click here! ----> philiplumbang.com
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Taco Bell = Art Theives
Open letter to Taco Bell: You Suck.
One of the biggest things that annoy me that corporations do is try to make money off stolen creativity and hard work. Really irritates me to madness. Being purposefully employed by a horrid corporation is hard enough. However, if you have made the choice to take the difficult, less-traveled road and avoid being one of the zombie suits only to have your art and ideas ripped off, then that blows even bigger time.
Taco Bell has made the decision to do this above-mentioned sucking. Someone in their marketing department thought it would be a good idea to steal the unique, artistic creations of Kidrobot founder Paul Budnitz + artist Tristan Eaton and use it as their own. In an effort to be “cool with the kids,” they have undeniably copied the iconic Dunny to make what they are calling “Bellhedz.”
See? It’s hip and fun because it has a “z” in the name and “head” is misspelled. AND there’s “3”s to replace the “e”s!!! Don’t you want all 32 of these crappy knockoffs?
Even the packaging style is copied.
boo: Taco Bell’s “B3llh3dz”
On September 4th, Kidrobot held a “Death to False Vinyl” protest in NYC. To promote the event, they knocked-off Taco Smell’s promo art using the real deal Dunnys.
This would be like McDonalds selling fake Gucci or Wendy’s trying to get in on the recorded-from-your-theater-seat movie market.
Really Taco Hell? Really?
One of the biggest things that annoy me that corporations do is try to make money off stolen creativity and hard work. Really irritates me to madness. Being purposefully employed by a horrid corporation is hard enough. However, if you have made the choice to take the difficult, less-traveled road and avoid being one of the zombie suits only to have your art and ideas ripped off, then that blows even bigger time.
Taco Bell has made the decision to do this above-mentioned sucking. Someone in their marketing department thought it would be a good idea to steal the unique, artistic creations of Kidrobot founder Paul Budnitz + artist Tristan Eaton and use it as their own. In an effort to be “cool with the kids,” they have undeniably copied the iconic Dunny to make what they are calling “Bellhedz.”
See? It’s hip and fun because it has a “z” in the name and “head” is misspelled. AND there’s “3”s to replace the “e”s!!! Don’t you want all 32 of these crappy knockoffs?
Even the packaging style is copied.
boo: Taco Bell’s “B3llh3dz”
On September 4th, Kidrobot held a “Death to False Vinyl” protest in NYC. To promote the event, they knocked-off Taco Smell’s promo art using the real deal Dunnys.
This would be like McDonalds selling fake Gucci or Wendy’s trying to get in on the recorded-from-your-theater-seat movie market.
Really Taco Hell? Really?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
choose-your-own-adventure family
Tuesday everyone left me. and did I panic?
yes I did.
seriously though...
I had an awesome extended weekend with two friends (who wish to remain anonymous) and my love. We had fun catching up and cooking and planning our next meet-up (complete with costumes ...more on that in Oct).
We went shopping at Ikea. They don’t have one in their city. It was a touch-everything good time had by all. I was scolded for getting into one of the beds. Later in the parking lot, a woman rolling forward in her SUV without looking tried to run me over. She got the “wtf?” look while my companions laughed their asses off by the car.
On Monday we went to an Indian restaurant with our friend Maryanne. I really have come to love Indian food. One of my favorite things to do is eat out with friends. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter where (within reason). It’s really about the conversation and connection to great friends.
I savored the last moments with these friends Monday night.
Then Tuesday morning came, and one at a time everyone left me. You know that saying about not knowing what you have until it’s gone? Well, it’s not exactly like that. I’ve always appreciated these very special humans in my life. I did, however, have some things to think about for the rest of Tuesday.
So here it is:
I’ve come to realize that there are advantages to being rejected by your biological family. You get to choose your own! Rather, sometimes they choose you. Life becomes a “choose your own adventure” of sorts. Yes, there is a bright side to your family telling you to go to hell every time you speak to them.
For my “birthday” my parents gave me the first present they have given me in probably 15 years. It’s a lovely (faux) leather Bible and it’s really a gift to themselves. This book I received in August. My birthday is in April. At least the got the first letter of the month correct. Inside were inscriptions with instructions to read and learn how to fix my broken soul.
My father, who has beaten his offspring to the point of broken bones, left me this gem: “Sin will keep you from this book, but this book will keep you from sin.” I wonder if he thought of this book as he punched me in the face in front of the church when I was 15 then left me there bloody and swollen.
My mother wrote, “I have no greater joy than to know my children walk in truth.” This is coming from the woman who lies every time she is asked by the police or friends about things that have gone on in her home. This is the same woman who couldn’t stop gossiping and spreading hate to save her life. (I’d say “for a million dollars,” but I know that she is definitely motivated by money.)
So truth it is, but I’m sure it isn’t this brand of truth they were wanting. Still, it’s truth, although I’m actually keeping it very mild for the purposes of this blog.
Don’t want to go too far.
My point in this is that I’ve been given the best gift from the universe. I’ve been given the opportunity to choose a custom family of my own. I realized this standing with our visitors in our kitchen. We were assembly-lining the jalepeños for frying: I prepared the sliced peppers, then another put on the egg and panko, while another fried them. Someone was also making sauces for dipping. In the middle, I was struck with this thought, "THIS is my family!"
I have an amazing group of friends. I am grateful for the fun, intelligent, grounded, talented, supportive, and forgiving peeps in my life.
My choose-your-own-adventure family has never left me bloody on the ground. We have never told each other to go to hell. We would never tell someone they are a failure at life. We don’t love conditionally. We do things for each other that help us get through this life.
I love my modern new-fangled family
and they actually do love me.
yes I did.
seriously though...
I had an awesome extended weekend with two friends (who wish to remain anonymous) and my love. We had fun catching up and cooking and planning our next meet-up (complete with costumes ...more on that in Oct).
We went shopping at Ikea. They don’t have one in their city. It was a touch-everything good time had by all. I was scolded for getting into one of the beds. Later in the parking lot, a woman rolling forward in her SUV without looking tried to run me over. She got the “wtf?” look while my companions laughed their asses off by the car.
On Monday we went to an Indian restaurant with our friend Maryanne. I really have come to love Indian food. One of my favorite things to do is eat out with friends. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter where (within reason). It’s really about the conversation and connection to great friends.
I savored the last moments with these friends Monday night.
Then Tuesday morning came, and one at a time everyone left me. You know that saying about not knowing what you have until it’s gone? Well, it’s not exactly like that. I’ve always appreciated these very special humans in my life. I did, however, have some things to think about for the rest of Tuesday.
So here it is:
I’ve come to realize that there are advantages to being rejected by your biological family. You get to choose your own! Rather, sometimes they choose you. Life becomes a “choose your own adventure” of sorts. Yes, there is a bright side to your family telling you to go to hell every time you speak to them.
For my “birthday” my parents gave me the first present they have given me in probably 15 years. It’s a lovely (faux) leather Bible and it’s really a gift to themselves. This book I received in August. My birthday is in April. At least the got the first letter of the month correct. Inside were inscriptions with instructions to read and learn how to fix my broken soul.
My father, who has beaten his offspring to the point of broken bones, left me this gem: “Sin will keep you from this book, but this book will keep you from sin.” I wonder if he thought of this book as he punched me in the face in front of the church when I was 15 then left me there bloody and swollen.
My mother wrote, “I have no greater joy than to know my children walk in truth.” This is coming from the woman who lies every time she is asked by the police or friends about things that have gone on in her home. This is the same woman who couldn’t stop gossiping and spreading hate to save her life. (I’d say “for a million dollars,” but I know that she is definitely motivated by money.)
So truth it is, but I’m sure it isn’t this brand of truth they were wanting. Still, it’s truth, although I’m actually keeping it very mild for the purposes of this blog.
Don’t want to go too far.
My point in this is that I’ve been given the best gift from the universe. I’ve been given the opportunity to choose a custom family of my own. I realized this standing with our visitors in our kitchen. We were assembly-lining the jalepeños for frying: I prepared the sliced peppers, then another put on the egg and panko, while another fried them. Someone was also making sauces for dipping. In the middle, I was struck with this thought, "THIS is my family!"
I have an amazing group of friends. I am grateful for the fun, intelligent, grounded, talented, supportive, and forgiving peeps in my life.
My choose-your-own-adventure family has never left me bloody on the ground. We have never told each other to go to hell. We would never tell someone they are a failure at life. We don’t love conditionally. We do things for each other that help us get through this life.
I love my modern new-fangled family
and they actually do love me.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
i know
Fiona Apple should be in the encyclopedia under the heading New Blues Masters. Long before Amy Winehouse and Corinne Bailey Rae hit the scene, Fiona was cranking out the smoke and piano sound. She made room for them to come along and emulate the old school jazz but in a super current fashion.
I love them all truthfully. There’s something about that music that knows how I feel on my bluest Mondays and grayest Sundays. It gets inside my head and reads my mind and tells me what I’m trying to say.
The first time I experienced that clairvoyant music I was listening to Charlie Brown records as a child. From those I discovered Vince Guaraldi, the musician that gave Charlie Brown and the gang it’s special character. The Vince Guaraldi Trio made music that made dialogue obsolete. I hear that music and see Charlie’s frustrated face and I know how his soul feels.
What amazes me is that 20 years before I was born, Vince Guaraldi was making music that still has that effect on me. How did he read my mind and know my moods so many years ago?
That’s how I’ve always felt about Fiona Apple as well. The only difference with her is she speaks the new language. Modern times have brought women to the writer’s table, and this blues singer doesn’t hold back language or subject. It’s a perfect combination of the sound I love and rebellion.
Although she is often remembered as part of the rash of girly acts that appeared in second half of the nineties, her sophistication and talent set her far apart. Her second album title sums up her individuality and early maturity:
When the pawn hits the conflicts he thinks like a king
What he knows throws the blows when he goes to the fight
And he'll win the whole thing before he enters the ring
There's no body to batter when your mind is your might
So when you go solo, you hold your own hand
And remember that depth is the greatest of heights
And if you know where you stand, then you know where to land
And if you fall it won't matter, cuz you'll know that you're right
I believe it may hold the record for longest album title ever.
The last track on this album is a song that allmusic.com calls “a modern standard.” I agree. It’s one of my favorites. Even if sometimes it does leave me crying on the floor...
So be it, I'm your crowbar
If that’s what I am so far
Until you get out of this mess
And I will pretend
That I don’t know of your sins
Until you are ready to confess
But all the time, all the time
I'll know, I'll know
And you can use my skin
To bury your secrets in
And I will settle you down
And at my own suggestion,
I will ask no questions
While I do my thing in the background
But all the time, all the time
I'll know, I'll know
Baby-I can't help you out, while she's still around.
So for the time being, I'm being patient
And amidst this bitterness
If you'll just consider this -even if it don’t make sense
all the time- give it time
And when the crowd becomes your burden
And you've early closed your curtains,
I'll wait by the backstage door
While you try to find the lines to speak your mind
And pry it open, hoping for an encore
And if it gets too late, for me to wait
For you to find you love me, and tell me so
It's ok, don’t need to say it...
I Know by Fiona Apple
I love them all truthfully. There’s something about that music that knows how I feel on my bluest Mondays and grayest Sundays. It gets inside my head and reads my mind and tells me what I’m trying to say.
The first time I experienced that clairvoyant music I was listening to Charlie Brown records as a child. From those I discovered Vince Guaraldi, the musician that gave Charlie Brown and the gang it’s special character. The Vince Guaraldi Trio made music that made dialogue obsolete. I hear that music and see Charlie’s frustrated face and I know how his soul feels.
What amazes me is that 20 years before I was born, Vince Guaraldi was making music that still has that effect on me. How did he read my mind and know my moods so many years ago?
That’s how I’ve always felt about Fiona Apple as well. The only difference with her is she speaks the new language. Modern times have brought women to the writer’s table, and this blues singer doesn’t hold back language or subject. It’s a perfect combination of the sound I love and rebellion.
Although she is often remembered as part of the rash of girly acts that appeared in second half of the nineties, her sophistication and talent set her far apart. Her second album title sums up her individuality and early maturity:
When the pawn hits the conflicts he thinks like a king
What he knows throws the blows when he goes to the fight
And he'll win the whole thing before he enters the ring
There's no body to batter when your mind is your might
So when you go solo, you hold your own hand
And remember that depth is the greatest of heights
And if you know where you stand, then you know where to land
And if you fall it won't matter, cuz you'll know that you're right
I believe it may hold the record for longest album title ever.
The last track on this album is a song that allmusic.com calls “a modern standard.” I agree. It’s one of my favorites. Even if sometimes it does leave me crying on the floor...
So be it, I'm your crowbar
If that’s what I am so far
Until you get out of this mess
And I will pretend
That I don’t know of your sins
Until you are ready to confess
But all the time, all the time
I'll know, I'll know
And you can use my skin
To bury your secrets in
And I will settle you down
And at my own suggestion,
I will ask no questions
While I do my thing in the background
But all the time, all the time
I'll know, I'll know
Baby-I can't help you out, while she's still around.
So for the time being, I'm being patient
And amidst this bitterness
If you'll just consider this -even if it don’t make sense
all the time- give it time
And when the crowd becomes your burden
And you've early closed your curtains,
I'll wait by the backstage door
While you try to find the lines to speak your mind
And pry it open, hoping for an encore
And if it gets too late, for me to wait
For you to find you love me, and tell me so
It's ok, don’t need to say it...
I Know by Fiona Apple
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
inauguration tea
Yesterday, on Inauguration Day, I went for my daily iced green tea. I was greeted with this inauguration address quote:
“My fellow citizens, our nation is poised for greatness. We must do what we know is right and do it with all our might. Let history say of us, “These were golden years – when the American Revolution was reborn, when freedom gained new life, when America reached for her best.”
It seems full of hope. Can you guess who spoke these words?
Ronald Reagan Inaugural Address on January 21, 1985
“My fellow citizens, our nation is poised for greatness. We must do what we know is right and do it with all our might. Let history say of us, “These were golden years – when the American Revolution was reborn, when freedom gained new life, when America reached for her best.”
It seems full of hope. Can you guess who spoke these words?
Ronald Reagan Inaugural Address on January 21, 1985
Friday, January 9, 2009
sophophobia
...and that’s when i realized it. my whole life i have been afraid. and i’ve let it control me. not just in the normal way of everyday self-protective fear,
but real, actual, paralyzing
Fear.
I had another reminder recently of how I let the fear control me. My Freddy and I were walking in Tempe. We had been looking forward to seeing The Lion King. It was going to be a fun night. Before the show we wanted to get something to eat. So we walked from ASU Gammage parking lot to the area with restaurants. As we were crossing Mill Ave to go to P.F.Chang’s we met a group of folks walking toward us in the cross walk. As they passed, a male in the group said, “Fags.”
My heart stopped. The familiar coldness of panic fell across my skin causing my hair to stand and my throat to lock. My usual witty defenses failed me. I stared straight ahead. “Just keep walking,” I told Self. I couldn’t look at Fred. I couldn’t let him see my frailty. I cursed my vanity that led me to wear this beautiful orange scarf. I wanted to put it in the closest trashcan. “Its not that fucking cold you stupid ass.”
We walked along a little further in silence. I tried to reach for Freddy’s hand but my body wouldn’t allow it.
Then I felt a new temperature rise in the previously frozen body.
Anger.
and I let it fly
right there on Mill Ave.
I cursed the day I compromised and patronized a Fucking Red State! I said I never would after eight years of Bush. I cursed the state of Arizona. This wasn’t the first time we had heard this word here. The last time it was the parking lot at Sprouts. I cursed the inhabitants of Phoenix. I cursed their racism and bigotry. I cursed the elitists. I cursed their obsession with retail. Retail does not equal culture. Therefore Phoenix has no culture. The place is just one giant mall, a very dry mall. I hate malls.
I started making plans to get out.
I was mad at Self for being afraid and hurting others I care about. I have to find a way to never let it happen again.
The better side of epiphany:
I went skydiving a couple times with my brother in 2007. It took a lot of talk from my brother who is a genius at talking anyone into anything in a very practical manner. It seemed an innocent conversation about facing fears and not letting them control your ability to experience new things. We were talking figuratively. I am a genius at talking about the hypothetical. I did not realize I would be called upon to back up my beliefs with action. If I had, the conversation would have gone quite differently I assure you.
Instead, I am now on an extremely noisy plane that is struggling against the force of the straight up incline to the sky.
What I was most aware of was being free. It wasn’t that I was 15,000 ft. above the earth, although that definitely was a big part of it. More than that, I was free of myself. I had head tripped myself into jumping from a plane! It meant letting go of the fear, of every reason that something could go wrong, & of control. A freedom came from having no attachments, from having nothing to lose.
I let go and plummeted to the earth at 120 mph. I took the instructor’s advice and enjoyed the view. Not many people get to see this amazing earth from this angle. I only got to see it because I made Fear my bitch. I starred it in the eye, acknowledged it, and (with encouragement from my best friend) jumped.
I would not have had this unforgettable experience if I had let fear determine what I do.
So
As of right now, I’m putting the rest of Fear on notice. You’ve been acknowledged. I know who you are. I’ll recognize your freeze when I feel it.
Then,
one at a time, I will pass you. I will leave you at the rear:
fear of dying
fear of hell
fear of social stigma
fear of heights
fear that people can read my thoughts
fear of being beaten
fear of losing friendships
fear of sleeping
fear of not being good enough
fear of failure
fear of being ordinary
fear of losing my love
fear of being cheated on
fear of being a pariah
fear of being a monster
fear of letting people down
fear of not being liked
fear of showing I’m crazy
fear of being creatively imperfect
“...a life lived in fear is a life half lived...”
Fran in Baz Luhrman’s Strictly Ballroom
but real, actual, paralyzing
Fear.
I had another reminder recently of how I let the fear control me. My Freddy and I were walking in Tempe. We had been looking forward to seeing The Lion King. It was going to be a fun night. Before the show we wanted to get something to eat. So we walked from ASU Gammage parking lot to the area with restaurants. As we were crossing Mill Ave to go to P.F.Chang’s we met a group of folks walking toward us in the cross walk. As they passed, a male in the group said, “Fags.”
My heart stopped. The familiar coldness of panic fell across my skin causing my hair to stand and my throat to lock. My usual witty defenses failed me. I stared straight ahead. “Just keep walking,” I told Self. I couldn’t look at Fred. I couldn’t let him see my frailty. I cursed my vanity that led me to wear this beautiful orange scarf. I wanted to put it in the closest trashcan. “Its not that fucking cold you stupid ass.”
We walked along a little further in silence. I tried to reach for Freddy’s hand but my body wouldn’t allow it.
Then I felt a new temperature rise in the previously frozen body.
Anger.
and I let it fly
right there on Mill Ave.
I cursed the day I compromised and patronized a Fucking Red State! I said I never would after eight years of Bush. I cursed the state of Arizona. This wasn’t the first time we had heard this word here. The last time it was the parking lot at Sprouts. I cursed the inhabitants of Phoenix. I cursed their racism and bigotry. I cursed the elitists. I cursed their obsession with retail. Retail does not equal culture. Therefore Phoenix has no culture. The place is just one giant mall, a very dry mall. I hate malls.
I started making plans to get out.
I was mad at Self for being afraid and hurting others I care about. I have to find a way to never let it happen again.
The better side of epiphany:
I went skydiving a couple times with my brother in 2007. It took a lot of talk from my brother who is a genius at talking anyone into anything in a very practical manner. It seemed an innocent conversation about facing fears and not letting them control your ability to experience new things. We were talking figuratively. I am a genius at talking about the hypothetical. I did not realize I would be called upon to back up my beliefs with action. If I had, the conversation would have gone quite differently I assure you.
Instead, I am now on an extremely noisy plane that is struggling against the force of the straight up incline to the sky.
What I was most aware of was being free. It wasn’t that I was 15,000 ft. above the earth, although that definitely was a big part of it. More than that, I was free of myself. I had head tripped myself into jumping from a plane! It meant letting go of the fear, of every reason that something could go wrong, & of control. A freedom came from having no attachments, from having nothing to lose.
I let go and plummeted to the earth at 120 mph. I took the instructor’s advice and enjoyed the view. Not many people get to see this amazing earth from this angle. I only got to see it because I made Fear my bitch. I starred it in the eye, acknowledged it, and (with encouragement from my best friend) jumped.
I would not have had this unforgettable experience if I had let fear determine what I do.
So
As of right now, I’m putting the rest of Fear on notice. You’ve been acknowledged. I know who you are. I’ll recognize your freeze when I feel it.
Then,
one at a time, I will pass you. I will leave you at the rear:
fear of dying
fear of hell
fear of social stigma
fear of heights
fear that people can read my thoughts
fear of being beaten
fear of losing friendships
fear of sleeping
fear of not being good enough
fear of failure
fear of being ordinary
fear of losing my love
fear of being cheated on
fear of being a pariah
fear of being a monster
fear of letting people down
fear of not being liked
fear of showing I’m crazy
fear of being creatively imperfect
“...a life lived in fear is a life half lived...”
Fran in Baz Luhrman’s Strictly Ballroom
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