Ampersands & Apertures

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2011-07-25T09:28:00.000-06:00

I really wish you'd stop saying that.
It's untrue and makes me painfully aware of how little it means to you and how little I deserve it.
It just hurts.
It doesn't make me feel good.

Keep those four letter words to yourself...
Unless, of course, they motivate you to do something that makes you worthy of them.

The Room

2011-02-27T11:35:00.001-07:00

Light pierces, floats, seeps
Curtains filled with dust and smoke
Floors, wooden, aged

(untitled)

2011-02-27T01:53:00.001-07:00

Needles, click, clack, click
Sheep, alpaca, merino
Loving, aged hands

Falling Asleep

2011-02-27T01:42:00.001-07:00

My arms around her,
Our spirits lift and hearts swell.
Buried, warm, we sleep.

Don't Paint Your Face with Lies, It's Unattractive

2011-02-21T12:04:00.003-07:00

This is where I read. This is where I put on my shoes.
This is where I give you a stern look.

Anybody who has known me for any amount of time knows that there are a couple of things I don't tolerate well. Yes, I can work at a job for three and a half years taking constant verbal abuse day in and day out. I probably have the highest tolerance for stupidity and belligerence out of anybody I know. But, the two things I don't tolerate well are flakiness and lying. I work very hard, and if I set time aside for you, it's because I value you. If you can't give me the same respect, I probably won't pay you much attention later. The other thing that can almost guarantee that you won't hear from me in the future is lying. Now, I'm not talking about story-telling or embellishing, or even fabricating a yarn. I'm talking about cowardly lying. I'm talking about that ugly lying where someone tells you things to avoid conflict or having to own up to an uncomfortable fact.

This is a beautiful world we live in. And, I can't help but think the best of everybody and trust the things they say. I can't help it. I am an honest person, and like to live in a world where I feel comfortable and free because others are honest as well.

If you or someone you love is a liar—keep it away from me.

TUMBLR

2011-02-21T10:31:00.000-07:00

I have started a TUMBLR (notice the ironic caps. Oooooo, I'm so clever!)

"I Walked"

2011-02-17T20:39:00.001-07:00

I'll Be Ok, Really

2011-02-14T11:01:00.002-07:00

Each Valentine's Day that I spend alone sinks the bitter sting of Winter deeper into my heart, and reminds me just how pathetic every attempt I have ever made at love was. It is the darkest day of the year—darker than the winter solstice. I can't wait for this day to be over. Tomorrow, the sun will rise again, and things will be ok. But, today, you might as well just push the sides of the trench in on me. I wasn't made to play the war-games of love today.

In Spanish speaking countries, today is referred to as the day of love and friendship. The focus is less on romantic love, and more on loving and appreciating everyone important to you. I like that. I don't take back what I said before. I hate Valentine's day. There was only one that was very good. But, maybe today I can pretend I'm in Mexico, and forget about the chilly air. Even if it's only 41º outside and Valentine's attempts to place its icy hands over my upturned eyes, I'm going to try to make it a bit warmer in my heart.

(Ending statement): Yep, today sucks, but I'm going to try to make it warm anyway.

Haiku You

2011-02-13T16:33:00.000-07:00

This is what I did in sacrament meeting today: I wrote haikus.

I saw God today
In the sun that blinded me
And in your bright eyes.

You will never know.
It doesn't penetrate your mind.
My heart knew it though.

Cool wind moves my hair.
I swerve to dodge a pothole.
The buzz of the motor.

Jesus came and died,
His once kind face, tear-soaked, dark.
He reigns glorified.

The bright citrón shoe,
Five tall inches to zero,
Sculpts a woman's calf.

Grace My Life with Your Thighs

2011-02-10T22:00:00.001-07:00

We arrive to a scene full of forty and fifty year old people, one of the strangest moments of my concert going life. I don't know if they play one of Grace Potter's songs on KBUL93, or if they advertise for her shows at the Newgate Mall on Wednesday mornings. But, to show up to a show resembling something like a mixture of Led Zeppelin and Shakira if she were from the Southern United States rather than Colombia. As it grew closer to 8:00, there were more young people, but the environment remained saturated with older people. I didn't think that they allowed cameras in the venue, so I didn't take mine, and I left my phone in the car. But, Sara had her camera and took some great pictures that you can view here.

From the moment the band took the stage to the moment we left, the air was electric. Grace Potter is one of the greatest vocal artists today. And, her band is one of the best southern rock bands I've ever heard, let alone seen. One of the best parts of the show wasn't the upskirts from being so close to the stage and her dress being so short, it wasn't when she threw her pick out near the end of the show, and I got it, it was the sequence that they played during "Tiny Light" alluding to "You Shook Me" by Led Zeppelin. I can't explain how giddy it made me.

VD

2011-02-03T16:12:00.003-07:00

This year for Valentine's Day, I'm making a series of slightly less than romantic cards about moving life forward whether there is love in your life or not. This is the first one.

Bonus Song of the Day

2011-01-31T11:02:00.000-07:00

Because every band should have a group of children playing or singing in the background. And because everybody should have a smile as big as Blake Hazard, the great-granddaughter of F. Scott Fitzgerald and singer for The Submarines—always.

PeeWee's Girlfriends

2011-01-31T09:28:00.002-07:00

Song and video of the day: "Shadows" by Au Revoir Simone

This band is the reason I bought my Casio MT-71. They were a ton of fun last year when they came through SLC. Such sweet girls. We chatted for a while after the show; but, *sigh* it wasn't meant to be. If I find the pfoto we took together, I'll have to post it.

Anyway, fantastic video, great synth lines, and lovely girls. I want to go to there.

Liest & Risest

2011-01-30T14:49:00.000-07:00

Alma, chapter 37: 36-37

36 Yea, and cry unto God for all thy support; yea, let all thy doings be unto the Lord, and whithersoever thou goest let it be in the Lord; yea, let all thy thoughts be directed unto the Lord; yea, let the affections of thy heart be placed upon the Lord forever.

37 Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God...

Dear John Vanderslice, Sing it Again

2011-01-27T15:27:00.000-07:00

I love getting packages and letters more than Christmas. You have no idea how excited I get. And, today, my package from Mr. John Vanderslice came! I'm sure that people driving by my house when I ran full speed to the doorstep to pick it up thought that something terrible had happened. But, if they could have seen the smile spread across the front of my face, and not just my muscular buttocks springing my body forward at the speed of sound, they'd have known that it wasn't anything terrible, but rather the most amazing thing in the world: a package on my doorstep.

When I got inside and cut it open with the first kitchen knife I could find, I was more pleased than I thought I would be. This was WAY worth the pre-order and waiting a few days longer than everyone else to have the album in my hand.

The contents of the package:

13"X19" screen-printed/letterpressed poster

Ltd. edition 180 gram vinyl copy of Green Grow the Rushes (mine is 126/1000)

Vinyl edition of White Wilderness

CD version of White Wilderness sent in a reused padded envelope that someone had used in the Netherlands

45 rpm with "Too Much Time" and "Moon Rocks"

45 rpm with "D.I.A.L.O." and "Do What You Want"

A signed photo by John of the Western Sierras, CA.

Not bad for $45 plus shipping, eh?

And, to top it all off: here in a few hours I'm going down to SLC to hear the designer/branding team Hatch Design speak. I don't know if I'm going to be able to sleep tonight!

Would You Like a Drink?

2011-01-26T10:12:00.000-07:00

Pink Martini
Oh, that China Forbes.

And, one that they won't let me embed: Je Ne Veux Pas Travailler

Mustache Love

2011-01-24T20:31:00.003-07:00

Posted this at work on the bulletin board.

New Pants, New Week, Normal Shawn

2011-01-23T22:01:00.000-07:00

After a kind of crappy weekend, I have decided that this week I've got to forget about it all and be Shawn. You know, that guy who whispers to you in the middle of something serious, "I've got a secret." And, you think to yourself, "Oh, great. This again." Then I say, "Promise not to tell?" And you say, "Yes, Shawn. I promise not to tell." And I continue by divulging my not-so-secret secret, that I am pretty excited about life. Despite the cold darkness of winter, despite people who do or don't want to be a part of my life, and under the stress of trying to do more than I should, I am going to be NORMAL, HAPPY SHAWN.

FIN.

Have a great week.

Love,
Shawn S. Barker, Esq.

Alt Spring in Your Step

2011-01-23T14:24:00.002-07:00

This is the latest poster. This one is for the Alternative Spring Break project that the Community Involvement Center does every year in conjunction with Habitat for Humanity. This year, they are going to the San Francisco Bay Area.

Come Monday Night.

2011-01-23T08:52:00.004-07:00

I should have been born in the early fourties and come of age in the sixties, in a place and time when it was ok for men to be passionate about something other than professional sports and steak as long as you weren't afraid to fight for it. I'm not looking forward to church today. I swear if I hear another sports analogy comparing Jesus to a quarterback or life to the last ten seconds of the BYU vs. Utah game...

Life consists of more than sports, hunting, and your lame job or 'business' major. Read a book, watch some decent movies, get out and live.

(This rant was brought to you, in part, by a stunning sunrise and a hot bath.)

(Post-church edit: During sacrament meeting, someone got up, and in talking about our Savior and the atonement, compared Him to a quarterback. I got up and 'went to the bathroom' for a few minutes.)

I'm a member

2011-01-22T16:24:00.002-07:00

Having kind of a shit of a day. But, I finally found a Members Only jacket at the thrift store. Score. I've been looking for one for a while in my size.

Perfection is not Interesting.

2011-01-22T11:20:00.001-07:00

Lessons I learned from James Victore:

Relax.
F*** perfection. It's not interesting.
"I'm not teaching you to give blow-jobs."
Travel is good. But, don't be a tourist.
Just ask.
Buddha would drive a pick-up if he lived today.
You don't spring out of your egg being great. You have to work and sweat and suck first.
Relax.
WWJVD? Don't do that. Learn to be self-aware.
Just be the person you were born to be.
Forget the concept of a "real world." Don't let it psych you out. You've been living in it since you were born.
There is far too much reliance today on typography, color, and the computer
In the particular lies the universal---> Do what you do and tell your own story and people will relate---> BE HONEST. This is where the best design comes from.
Never stop learning. Every piece of information you pick up will be relevant at some point. It gives you perspective. It makes your work relevant.
Art is lying to come to a bigger truth.
Play the guy who enjoys himself.
Relax
Read financial books.
The design industry to a large extent is about how much sh** you are willing to eat. Not every project you do will be revolutionary or push a good cause. A lot of work will be in order to pay the bills, and that's ok.
Twist clichés. Clichés are valuable signifiers, but need new perspectives in order to be interesting.
Try coming up with a theme and do 200 variations on it. These are mental, design push-ups.
RELAX!!!

I Am an Open Book

2011-01-21T16:43:00.002-07:00

Why do I tell people every thing about myself that comes to mind? I'd tell a man on the street my social security and credit card numbers right in the same breath as every dirty thought that has ever crossed my mind if he asked me. (But, don't ask me. I really won't tell you.) I trust too easily, and have no sense of shame.

Sometimes I wish I could be just a little more aloof and ennui like James Bond or one of Jean-Luc Goddard's characters.

But, that's not really me. I am the open book. Go ahead, spill your hot tea all over my pages. Take off my dust jacket, and read me while taking a hot bath, the water spilling over the rim of the tub as you turn the pages; read me while you wait on the platform for the next train to where ever you are headed. Just try not to rip me.

Or do. Rip a few pages out. Stuff that little piece of me in your pocket or tape it to your mirror.

This is a pink version of Seymore, my typewriter.

Or go to one of the blank pages and write yourself in.

Life

2011-01-20T23:43:00.002-07:00

Life is a single skip for joy.

The King is Dead, but The Harmonica is Alive and Well

2011-01-20T00:37:00.001-07:00

The King is Dead, the newest release by The Decemberists, is possibly their best album yet. I downloaded it this morning, and haven't listened to anything else since. Thank you, Sara Brook, for telling me I had to give them another chance. I really had a hard time getting into their past records; but, I fell hard for the harmonica, harmonies, and harmfully loud volume I played it at earlier. This is a good one, *nod,* very good one indeed.

PRINT it again. It's better the second time.

2011-01-20T00:28:00.001-07:00

After spending some more time with my new copy of PRINT in its new format, I have fallen in love with it. It is a much more dynamic space to move through. And, although the cover reminds me of MoMa's magazine, the brand of PRINT's new format is much, much clearer and forceful. I really enjoyed moving through its pages. It has a lot of little surprises that pop up here and there. And, I found the way they ran the collaboration 'interview' along the inside of each page right along with changing articles on the outside edges of the pages really nice. Although, it isn't as driven by the concept as House of Leaves was. It is done in the same way: a lot of information from a lot of different places about a lot of different things, all following the same theme and all laid out in the same spirit all in different typefaces and colors to give continuity to the articles and make the reading fun and involving. Also, the stock they are now printing on has a nicer quality, and feels warmer. I guess if you are going to continue to invest in printed pages, why not make them more enjoyable, right? Right.

Whenever I type

2011-01-20T00:20:00.002-07:00

Vinyl

I always type it vynil first.
Then, I hit the backspace key several times, and type it, awkwardly, the right way.

Vy
Vinyl.

Yammerin' Slam

2011-01-19T12:11:00.001-07:00

"I love damn-hell-ass Casual shit-damn Swearing Day."

Erzee's Yammerings

You will never laugh so hard. I promise. Erzee's cleaver observations are some of the gold in my fish, my slimy, slimy, gold-filled fish. Ponyo. (I keep thinking about Ponyo.)

PRINT

2011-01-19T09:05:00.002-07:00

PRINT, after who knows how many years has finally changed their cover format. HOORAY! It reminds me just a little too much of the MoMa's magazine cover though. I like it a lot. But, it doesn't seem as branded as before.

You Fill Up My Senses

2011-01-18T22:42:00.000-07:00

Heavy-Hearted Morning with a Side of Oatmeal

2011-01-18T07:14:00.001-07:00

I can't wait to move to NYC.

(Then again, these long winter months, and the copious amounts of 3Eb I'm going to be listening to today make me think that maybe a SoCal life might be they way to go.)

How to Get the Dream Life of your Dreams

2011-01-17T20:55:00.002-07:00

This never gets old.

"Oh, hey. You just caught (me) blogging."

De(stress)sign Woes

2011-01-17T18:49:00.000-07:00

Design by committee is never good for the design or the designer. No matter how appropriate the solution is, it will be hen-pecked.

Running helps.

I thought this semester would be less stressful. But, it looks like it has just brought its own problems; not less, just different.

(Taken during Archery World Cup, 03 Aug. '10, Ogden, UT)

Just the Way You Are. (with a pinch of salt and lime.)

2011-01-17T09:12:00.002-07:00

(Watch for the pre-op trans-centaur playing the English horn.)

"Limón y Sal" by Julieta Venegas
Tengo que confesar que a veces
no me gusta tu forma de ser
luego te me desapareces y no entiendo muy bien por qué
no dices nada romántico cuando llega el atardecer te pones de un humor extraño con cada luna llena al mes.

Pero a a todo lo demás le gana lo bueno que me das sólo tenerte cerca siento que vuelvo a empezar.

CORO:
Yo te quiero con limón y sal, yo te quiero tal y como estás,
no hace falta cambiarte nada,
yo te quiero si vienes o si vas,
si subes y bajas y
no estás seguro de lo que sientes.

Tengo que confesarte ahora
nunca creí en la felicidad
a veces algo se le parece, pero
es pura casualidad.

Luego me vengo a encontrar con tus ojos y me dan algo más
solo tenerte cerca siento
que vuelvo a empezar.

CORO

Solo tenerte cerca
siento que vuelvo a empezar....

The Beginning of my Twenty-Seventh Year

2011-01-16T22:04:00.003-07:00

Life is good.

Today was a good birthday. It was just how I like it, I suppose. A little bit of birthday celebration, and a whole lot of normal. I woke up, hung around in my underwear until church, came home, worked on some stuff, had a nap, ate dinner with all the family. Then, I just hung out at home with Joakim and Kimberly and played some music. I worked on the Wurlitzer for a bit, and put the old legs back on it, and redid a little bit of the wiring. Then, we chatted for a bit, and they went home. That is about the size of it.

Happy birthday, Shawn!

(18 Jan 2011 edit: I guess that it is my twenty-eighth year. I am twenty-seven. We are in the twenty-first century, not the twentieth. Idiot.)

Stefania

2011-01-16T21:44:00.003-07:00

Because I've got cabin fever like crazy, I've been thinking a lot again about what color I should repaint Stefania when I finally get around to it and have the money. I really want to do something unique and 'mod,' but without all the mirrors. I never did like that aspect of the way the mods did their scooters. I'm thinking about doing something with the union jack down the left side of the leg-sheild. and have the rest in white. Here is one that has the union jack on the engine cowl.

I don't know though. The way it is now is so authentically Itallian, I am hesitant to move away from that. You can still faintly read decals from the late sixties on the legshield from some Italian scooter club one of the original owners was in back in Northern Italy.

Warby Parker and the Warbler.

2011-01-16T14:26:00.001-07:00

They came! My Warby Parker at-home try-on package. Now, I need your help in deciding which ones I should get. I plan to buy two pairs. (Please ignore the fact that they are slightly out of focus, and that the cropping is a little awkward on a few of them. This was a quick, ten-minute shoot with two minutes spent in Photoshop to adjust the white balance.)

01- narrow green

02- narrow dark tortoise

03- medium black with exposed hinges on the front

04- slightly larger matte tortoise

05- large blue

The Power and the Glory

2011-01-16T00:04:00.000-07:00

Ever since I first saw Donnie Darko, I wanted to know who this Graham Greene guy was, and what his stuff was actually like. So, I finally picked up one of his books, which happened to be what the experts on these things call his masterpiece, The Power and the Glory. And, now I know why. Not only are the themes extremely human, but the way he constructs his metaphors and descriptions is so natural that you wonder why nobody ever said it like that before. The rhythm and pace of his words flows naturally while striking right to the heart of the internal struggle of the whisky priest.

There comes a time in the story when it isn't safe for priest to stay in the area 'helping' the people. So, he begins to work his way toward the state border. After fighting a dog with a broken back for a bone in order to feed himself, he comes across a native woman whose son was shot in an incident with the other man being hunted down, a murderer from the United States, hiding out in Mexico. She shows him how to cross and he gives her son a blessing. They finally reach a place high in the mountains with a cross, and as the monsoon rains break, the following scene is described.

"The woman had gone down on her knees and was shuffling slowly across the cruel ground towards the group of crosses: the dead baby rocked on her back. When she reached the tallest cross she unhooked the child and held the face against the wood and afterwards the loins: then she crossed herself, not as ordinary Catholics do, but in a curious and complicated pattern which included the nose and ears. Did she expect a miracle? And if she did, why should it not be granted her? the priest wondered. Faith, one was told, could move mountains, and here was faith--faith in the spittle that healed the blind man and the voice that raised the dead. The evening star was out: it hung low down over the edge of the plateau: it looked as if it was within reach: and a small hot wind stirred. The priest found himself watching the child for some movement. When none came, it was as if God had missed an opportunity. The woman sat down, and taking a lump of sugar from her bundle, began to eat, and the child lay quiet at the foot of the cross. Why, after all, should we expect God to punish the innocent with more life?"

Having served my mission in Mexico and made plenty of my own mistakes, I really connected to this book.

Why can't I just live floating in a song?

2011-01-15T23:42:00.001-07:00

I'm hopelessly in love with the sounds (not to mention the look and feel) of the 1960's in Britain. The simple drum kit, the soft, honest voice, and guitars that sing with just enough grit to make things sink in. These past few days it has been the sounds of Voxtrot. I used to listen to Belle & Sebastian like a man breathes air near the ocean, deep, without effort, and with great pleasure. I guess I kind of wore them out for myself for the time being. Voxtrot has a lot of the same things that I love so much, bitingly honest, narrative lyrics about difficult love and a life of work you love and hate at the same time. Their songs are loaded from the top to the bottom with nice heart-throbbing. I'm such a sucker. They've got a nice sound too that would be really nice to just dance to. (I confess. I do. I dance by myself in my 'studio' with the volume up and the window open.)

"The Start of Something" by Voxtrot

This time of night I could call you up
I'd get angry with athletic ease, break common laws in twos and threes
If I die clutching your photograph
Don't call me boring, It's just 'cause I like you
Take me on back... take me back
To the place where I could feel your heart
Is this the end or just the start of
Something really, really beautiful
Wrapped up and disguised as something really, really ugly,

Won't you...

Come by and see me, I'm a love letter away
I'd break your name before I'd say, "I really love you, love you, "
I don't care if you saw, I watched every inch of film
Flash across your Roman features,
And I loved it, loved it; I don't care if

You think I'm eager to shut your eyes, well
I'm sorry-everybody knows you can't break me with your gutter prose
Would you believe it, she sent me a letter,
The ring, it nearly weighs her down, she's got another boy, oh boy
Steady your ears... read my lips
Poetry is not a luxury, it's how I'll break this home
And when I'm really ill, won't you cradle me?
Man is not a noble animal, but maybe woman is, remember,

I heard you...

Inside your room, you said, "You never really live
Until your back's against the wall, " oh did you really mean it?
I never break my gaze, if just to see this scar remain reflected in your eyes
I think it's time to go home

GUITAR SOLO

Oh, tell me your thoughts, tell me your thoughts on liberty,
See there's a place where I sink to sleeping
Oh, my vote is as red as my blood
Will you join me for another round? I haven't had the chance to speak yet

God speed...

I break the law once every week to feel your touch,
What's a book to you in bed, Do you feel better, older?
This just makes me ill, your name is dripping from my pen
Still you're not around to curse,
I'll drop the gun now, I'm still under you...

Marianne, let the ghosts sleep tonight.
Marianne, let the ghosts sleep, just shut your eyes and burn the past away

And, just because:

Sheep go to heaven. My cake went to Hell

2011-01-15T20:40:00.001-07:00

I guess that being a designer doesn't exactly qualify me to make multi-layered cakes, even if Photoshop does have layers too. And, no. A whole bottle of red food coloring will not color a whole thing of frosting red, just pink.

Stefania and I are sooooooooooo mod

2011-01-15T13:41:00.001-07:00

Homesick

2011-01-15T10:55:00.001-07:00

"Home is wherever I'm with you."

This rambling is brought to you in part by chocolate milk shakes and too much type.

2011-01-14T23:22:00.003-07:00

After two and a half hours of sleep, I got up at 6:00 to get ready and drive out to South Ogden for a doctor's appointment at 7:30. I didn't really want a repeat of the previous nights events. So, I left a bit earlier. From there, I went to monitor the photo lab for a few hours, then to present my nights toils to TCH. They were so pleased with the work that they said that they would probably contract a bunch more work out to me. Then, I came home and watched Scott Pilgrim vs. the World.

Lesson learned from last night: energy drinks affect Shawn for two days. I don't think that I could have gotten everything done without it. But, I sure felt it all day today. I cut my cheek and throat in several places trying to shave this afternoon. No bueno. I finally got a little bit of a nap after a bath and watching the first half of Scott Pilgrim for a second time. But, I suppose it was worth it.

I kind of just felt like sitting around the house and watching the dust fall around me. But, Joakim called me up and asked me if I wanted to go out to Dee's for a bite. I said yes, and picked Kimberly up and drove out there.

This week has been such a summer-wishing week. On the way home Jack's Mannequin came on. After dropping Kimberly off at her house, I just drove. I do that a lot. I just put on some music and drive.

Is there ever a dream of mine you
Oh, that you haven't heard?
I keep running ahead of the race
Until I put that sparkle in your eye.

Listening to this music tugs at my heart. It reminds me of past summers spent almost entirely at venues seeing bands play. Kristin May of Vedera has an incredible voice. Sound of an Empty Room is one of those albums that I will probably come back to my whole life. Her voice is so amazingly expansive, and will always make my heart ache for warm summer nights like those when I first heard them play.

Vedera - The Falling Kind

JasonDouglas | Myspace Video

Tonight felt like such a good night to be out working behind a camera. I wish I didn't have to get up tomorrow morning at 6:00 to go to work. Maybe that's what I'll do tomorrow night. Cross your fingers for warm temperatures and wet pavement!

Snow White, Snow (K)Night

2011-01-14T03:55:00.002-07:00

Working until 2:00 am did not help me get to sleep. After laying in bed for half an hour, I decided I might as well do something. So, I went out and shoveled the driveway and side walks. Night-time is so peaceful in the winter when there is fresh snow on the ground. It's just you, the snow, the shovel, your thoughts, trees, and deer. I almost never stay up this late to work. I usually call it a day at midnight and deal with the consequences the next day. But, I'm kind of glad I stayed up. It was nice to be out on such a peaceful night. I still can't wait for the spring though.

Bak acha, kiddo

2011-01-13T12:25:00.002-07:00

BAK MAG

I've been reading this Turkish digital-mag off and on for the past four or five years. It never ceases to have great inspiration embedded(haha) in its flash-based pages. Each month they choose a theme. Illustrators and designers send in their work, and then, the best of it is published along with interviews they do with different artists. The theme of the current issue is LOVE.

Awwwe!

Check it out. NOW!

So this is the New Year?

2011-01-12T08:37:00.001-07:00

(Untitled 1 from Evening Vesture of an Oily Figure)

This year's resolutions:

Find a decent internship (paid or otherwise)
Pay off the credit card
Finally get my online portfolio back up and running
Stay off of Facebook
Stop wasting my time on people who bring me down
Go to the temple once a month.
Finish Evening Vesture of an Oily Figure project and find a gallery to show it.

You're a little firecracker

2011-01-12T07:35:00.000-07:00

Woke up with "Firecracker" in my head.
It's going to be a good day.

Kick the wall smash the lights, rip the shades, burn it all
Firecracker
Firecracker
I will not complain at all
I will never be tricked by you.
No No No
I will never be tricked by you

I can't wait for warmer weather.

That time again

2011-01-11T22:25:00.000-07:00

Well, I guess it's that time again, when I get on here and make a few posts at the beginning of the year and then forget about it again. This is a poster I did for the Gospel Music Festival on campus. They ended up using some other poster for some reason.

Anyway. Like usual, tonight, I wished all my favorite people good night, laid back, and although I was sleepy when I laid down, now my brain won't stop.

I've had this song stuck in my head all evening: "Don't Kiss Me Goodbye" by Untra Orange and Emmanuelle:

If you close the door
Just turn off the lights now
The world looks better into the dark
Between the curtains somebody's watching
Oh sail me to the moon
Before it's too late

So don't kiss me goodbye, baby
Don't kiss me goodbye, baby, baby, baby

I turn around since too much time
Those railroad tracks
Will swallow my mind
I try so hard to stop wasting my life
If only I could just make you mine

Don't kiss me goodbye, baby
Don't kiss me goodbye, baby, baby, baby

Don't kiss me goodbye, baby, baby,
Don't kiss me goodbye, baby, baby.

One of the most stunning moments in the movie "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" is when this song is playing. The wind is blowing through Jean Dominique's hair, and you know what is about to happen to him. But, the light is so beautiful. The light in that movie is incredible. It reminds me of evenings at Antelope Island.

Speaking of Antelope Island, I never did get around to editing and printing any photos for the student art show. I'll have to post some images here, I guess. Paul Crow, one of my past photo professors told me that I should just start printing them and hanging them in the hall just to have a place to share some of them the size they were meant to be seen at. I might take him up on that.

Postcards from Italy

2010-01-19T22:18:00.000-07:00

Tonight's bedtime song: "Postcards from Italy" by Beirut. It has a touch of Chuck Mangioni in the horn chorus.

New Hiking Shoes

2010-01-18T15:46:00.000-07:00

For my birthday, Saturday, I got some new hiking boots! After ten years of using some ill-fitting Hi-Tech boots, it was time to say enough was enough. They didn't hold my foot in place like they should, the traction was weak, and they were just falling apart from hard use. I did a bit of research and found shoes made by Vasque and Danner that I liked. The Vasque's had the right solidity-to-cushion ratio, had good arch support, and good soles, but were on the heavy side, and I didn't feel that solid anchoring in the heel that I wanted. The Danner's on the other hand, were light weight, had that solid anchoring I wanted, but, were lacking in top sole materials. They felt a little too light. However, the La Sportiva Onix had a good balance of being a light-weight hiker with solid soles, good top-sole, and most importantly for me, my foot doesn't slide around in them at all. A good shoe is comprised of a lot of little details all mashed together. Things that people often don't take into consideration when buying a hiking boot, but that ultimately make the boot something that you hate or love, are the lace hooks, tread pattern, and abrasion pads on the toes. This shoe was very thoughtfully designed, and absolutely rocks.

2010-01-18T14:46:00.004-07:00

Look at me! I'm posting again! I'm going to stop posting as much straight to Facepunch and start posting more here and linking it to my other sites.

These pfotos, by the way, are from November. Jayme, Ryan, Joakim, and I threw rotting pumpkins off a water tower in the BDO.

Ug-Croc

2008-10-29T11:34:00.003-06:00

This is the most amazing marriage of the worst fashion trends of our day. The Croc and The Ug. Neither one was, on their own, a tasteful article of footwear, but together, they are even better at what they do. How perfect. How sublime. How sweetly unsightly.

Such a beautiful and timeless song.

2008-10-23T21:46:00.002-06:00

Isn't It a Pity by George Harrison

Isn't it a pity
Now, isn't it a shame
How we break each other's hearts
And cause each other pain
How we take each other's love
Without thinking anymore
Forgetting to give back
Isn't it a pity

Some things take so long
But how do I explain
When not too many people
Can see we're all the same
And because of all their tears
Their eyes can't hope to see
The beauty that surrounds them
Isn't it a pity

Isn't it a pity
Isn't is a shame
How we break each other's hearts
And cause each other pain
How we take each other's love
Without thinking anymore
Forgetting to give back
Isn't it a pity

Forgetting to give back
Isn't it a pity
Forgetting to give back
Now, isn't it a pity

**************************************

Really, the whole album (All Things Must Pass), is pretty amazing. Pure genius.

Older Chests Reveal Themselves

2008-10-14T21:29:00.003-06:00

It is Damien Rice weather which means more time on Stefania, more time in the tub, day-dreaming, and more time driving around aimlessly in the middle of the night. It also means the leaves are reddening like an embarrassed little boy's cheeks after his first peck from a girly. It means that it is becoming dark enough to see your light. It means scarves, sweaters, and jackets. It means slow piano ballads and humming electrical equipment. Hold me like a lover, Autumn. Caress my bowed head. Bathe me in your golden light. I know it won't last. You'll leave me cold and restless only to beg for Spring's sweet kisses and daffodils.

Docile docent and illustrative hound

2008-10-07T19:40:00.005-06:00

Here is the dl (it is like the caffeinated version of 7up, dnL, but a bit different). Tomorrow I will be interviewing to be Weber Journal's illustration coordinator. Wish me luck. The benefits: Full tuition payed by Weber State (or I guess, since they really can't pay themselves, it will be more of a write off with the numbers logged by the ever faithful accountants), a huge position to note on my resumés, more experience in pre-press work. The drawbacks: no wage or salary (which brings with it it's own myriad of problems including balancing an already precarious financial situation against the time constraints imposed by being a student), squeezing one more large responsibility into my tight schedule.

Also, I am applying to work in the galleries at WSU as a docent the first Saturday of each month during the Winter months. It should be fun if I get the position. All I would have to do is walk around and ramble on about the art in the galleries in terms that children and inexperienced art viewers could understand. Then, watch/help them play with art supplies.

Love? Where do I put her? You tell me. In my pocket? I think not.

FIN.

Subway

2008-09-29T10:52:00.009-06:00

And so, it secretly began. We hiked down ropey sandstone to the opening of a gaping mouth. She swallowed us. We became one with her bowels. then, when she had reduced us to frozen lumps, she spit us back up again only to burn in the sun. She was beautiful, mysterious, and deep. She was cold, warm, inviting, and repulsing. She is The Subway of Zion National Park.

2007-05-03T17:25:00.000-06:00

I am tired of closed minded people who call what they don't understand "shit." It only makes them look closed minded and uneducated. These people generally have the same qualities in common:

1. they don't pay attention to current events/politics
2. they wear the same clothes as everyone else/shop at the mall for their clothes
3. listen to the radio more than is healthy
4. watch a little too much tv
5. don't actively persue self-education (hobbies, instruments, etc.)
6. are sarcastic

This list could go on, I am sure, but I will leave it at that and invite you all, myself included, to open your minds to new ideas, experiences, and adventures daily.

The truth is that those who actively seek to know more about the world around them are more pleasant to be around, more likely to succeed in life, and less likely to call something "shit."

2007-02-16T11:10:00.000-07:00

Many of you may have abandoned hope to ever see another blog post from me. I haven’t been as diligent as I had hoped in my upkeep of this sort of newsletter from the pictures of Shawn. The truth is that I have been completely consumed in my time at a new job as an electrician and the addition of a girlfriend to my life. I hope to be able to post a couple pictures soon that will do both of them justice. Until then, know that there is love in my heart for each of you.

2007-01-10T11:35:00.000-07:00

You may look at this entry and think that it was written at a decent hour, but you would be mistaken. This was written in the wee hours of the night/morning when the worries of life have robbed me of my sleep. Maybe I have just been listening to too much of Damien Rice’s music and his depression and loneliness have found their way beyond empathy and have seeped into my heart, I don’t know. But, the uncertainty of my future is hanging over me like a ton of bricks. I wonder if my goals are set too high in life; if what I aspire to achieve professionally is what I will become, or if I am just wasting the precious time of my youth. I wonder if my honesty and openness with others is what has caused me to lose them. Is it frightening to see what so many cover up with false-faces and masks? I know what my ultimate destiny and purpose are, but the things that trouble me are those things more proximate: school, work, family, and friends. Where is my mortal life going?

Yet, I still love life. I take it in like a welcome popsicle on a hot summer day. I drink it up like water after running miles through desert wasteland. I only wish that I knew where it was taking me. I guess it is true: there are only two certainties in life. One, that we will die; and two, that life will take unexpected turns.

2007-01-01T18:10:00.000-07:00

I can't believe what I do/don't do sometimes. I went to Barnes and Noble this afternoon to cash in my gift card that I got there (there are always more books than money for them :( ). While walking around in a dreamlike state, opening and shutting book after book, wishing that I had more money, I noticed this girl and her sister next to me looking at the art/design books next to me. I thought that one of them was cute, so I made a comment about the book she was looking at (a fabulous photography book with pictures taken from planes), but couldn't muster the courage to ask her what her name was or anything remote to it, so I resigned myself to the web-design books a few isles away, then to the magazines, and around and around the store. But, it didn't matter where I went in the store, I kept running into her. So, I decided that I had to do something about it. While she was looking at the novels, I was looking at the poetry section on the other side of the same rack and right when I was going to go around to talk to her, she and her sister decided it was time to go. So, I waited a few seconds, to make things seem more natural, and went to the front to pay for my books ("A la orilla azul del silencio, Poemas del mar", by Pablo Neruda; and a HOT book on advanced Flash 8 Profesional). We only got to talk for a few seconds, and then I had to pay, and that was it. She was gorgeous, I am not. She was actually interested in me, and I was to shy to do anything until it was too late.

And so my life continues the way it was this morning. I have decided, however, that then next great girl to enter my life will not exit without me saying anything to her. ;-)

2006-12-01T13:07:00.000-07:00

Well, it left us the same way it came: softly, without a whole lot of publicity. Thanksgiving, the greatest of all holidays, is now past. It is definately my favorite holiday. What other holiday can you think of that allows you to get together with people you love and eat well prepared food? None come to my mind. All other family get togethers seem to be roll sandwiches and salads, which are okay I guess, I would just rather have hot, steaming foods prepared with a lot of time and love. There is no other holiday as relaxing as Thanksgiving. You don't have to worry about buying gifts for anyone, there are no other activities to plan, just eating and talking with family. Even if I had to prepare something to take to our Thanksgiving dinner, it would still be my favorite holiday.

Springtime

2006-11-17T16:10:00.001-07:00

I can't wait until it is Spring again. I know, I know, it isn't even Thanksgiving yet. But, think about it: scootering, longboarding, hiking, windows down, and the list goes on and on. The Druids started what we now call Halloween because they saw winter as a time of Death, and I have to agree with them. When winter rolls around, I feel less motivated about everything except sleep. Everything, when I look around me looks dead, frozen, lifeless. Everthing except the snowflakes. Ever since I have had a concious mind I have been fascinated by the snowflakes: the way they fall, their radial symmetry, and how they melt so fast on your fingertip. When I saw this picture that I took in April of this year, I felt nostalgic and wished that it weren't getting colder and darker. Then their whiteness and form caught my eye as something similar to snowflakes.

I remember a night that was almost magical last winter. Jacob and I had stayed up until about four in the morning talking about neuro-linguistics, and theorizing on the nature of the universe when I decided that I should go home and get some sleep so that I could have a semi-productive day. When I entered his house earlier in the evening it was a clear sky and there wasn't a spot of snow on the ground; yet, when I left at four, there were about five or six inches of snow on the ground. Fresh and untouched they called to me to take a moment and enjoy the silence of the early, early morning. As I stood there taking in each undisturbed snow covered twig, I looked up at the full moon and felt that I was in the middle of something sacred. I was in the presence of gods and angels standing there, and even though I would rather it be warm, I knew that I was loved by a Heavenly Father and that his creations were placed here for our enjoyment (and care) whether I recognized that beauty or not.

2006-11-15T09:38:00.000-07:00

New entry coming soon, mabey this afternoon. I have had a lot of work on my plate lately and haven't been able to find the time to update my blog. I have been working on some skateboard graphics for C-Style Custom Cruisers and my anti-pornography website: ContraPorn. Hopefully it will be done soon. You can go check out the work in progress.

2006-10-23T12:44:00.000-06:00

I was thinking this morning about all of the garbage on television and in movies, and I have come to a few conclusions about sex in the media. One of which is the fact that not only in Western Civilization was sex considered something not to be talked about, something sacred you might say, but also in almost every civilization that has ever existed on earth. It doesn't matter where you go in the world, traditionally, sex has been something done between man and wife in private, and considered to have been defiled by talking to openly about. Is this a coincidence? I am sure it is not. Also if one observes the fall of empires and civilizations in history, almost all were preceded by an almost complete loss of respect for human life and other sacred, God-given gifts such as the gift to procreate.

2006-10-17T13:49:00.000-06:00

Sunday evening I had the privilage of sitting down to watch TV, something that I almost never have time to do, and I saw this man playing on KEUN. Wow! I think that that is the only word I could use to describe it. He started playing when he was four years old, and it shows. I guess that somewhere along the line he also picked up the drums, and uses some drum techniques in his playing and as influences in his playing style. Click here to go check out his site; it has a lot of good stuff on it. Oh, and did I mention his name? I guess not. His name is Tommy Emmanuel. Go check his music out.

2006-10-04T12:16:00.000-06:00

There she is. My 1965 Vespa 150 Sprint. Beautiful isn't she? Too bad it keeps raining here in Northern Utah, or I would be able to ride her more. Sunday, I still didn't have her registered, so I didn't dare ride her very much; Monday, it was raining in the morning, so I couldn't ride her to school, but when I got home for lunch it had cleared up so I rode her to work (bad idea, it got really cloudy and threatened all afternoon to rain on it and make the ride home miserable; I think that it was a warning from God that I shouldn't second guess him); Yesterday was beautiful and I got to ride her to school and work; Today, rainy again, and will be for the rest of the work week. However, Saturday is suposed to be SUNNY again! So I will get to ride her around on the weekend. I love the color of her faded metalic green paint, which is now more of a silver blue. You can see where she has had a little bit of touch up paint here and there, and has a bit of surface rust. But, hopefully next year, I will have the money to give her a fresh paint job. I will strip her right down to the bare metal, get off what little rust there is, and lay down fresh primer, color, and a clear coat or two. Tell me what color you think it should be. (No, I will not paint her pink, or two toned; almost all of the junk coming out of Vietnam is painted two toned.)

2006-09-20T15:30:00.000-06:00

What does everybody out there think about ping pong? At our house we have a pool table downstairs that once in a while we put a ping pong table on. I was never able to get into it; in our basement we have too many nooks and crannies where the balls get lost, so it was always more of a hastle than it was worth. But, at other people's houses I LOVE PING PONG!!! That is what We did Friday night for fun. It really is an underapreciated, poorly understood game, generally speaking. When a lot of people think of ping pong, they think of a plinking ball and slight boredom. However, once you get the basics down and start learning to put spins on the ball, it gets really, really fun. Let me know what you think.

2006-09-14T15:12:00.000-06:00

Today I recieved one of the best pieces of news that I have recieved in a long time. About a year and a half ago I arrived from a two year mission in the over-gorgeous state of Oaxaca, Mexico. While there I had the privilage to teach hundreds of people about the restored gosple of Jesus Christ, some accepted it, but most didn't. Some say that it is hard work being a missionary, but I never thought it was; I like walking, I like being outside, I like good food, I like talking to people, and most importantly: I love my Savior. As I said earlier, some accepted what I taught them, but most did not; of those few that did accept it, only a few of them believed strongly enough to stick with it longer than a couple of months. It was also extremely rare for us to teach an entire family, most of the time we could only teach one or two members of a family because it is extremely dificult to get an entire family together all at one time in one place, expecially if it might require a lot of work later. One of the few families that I taught, that accepted the restored gosple, that stuck with it, was the Araujo family. When I got home I tried to stay in contact with them by sending them e-mails and letters, but never got any correspondence back from them. So, I, naturally thought that they had decided not to stick with the church and didn't know how to tell me. However, today I got an email from Alfonso, the father in the family, telling me that they are about to have their final lesson before entering into the temple to be sealed as a family for eternity! To find out that this very special family is still working hard for their eternal salvation is one of the best things that someone could tell me, and I only hope that some day, when my life reaches its end, I find that there were others who I knew and loved in Oaxaca that did the same.

2006-09-07T16:47:00.000-06:00

Today really feels like the end of summer. It has been gettting a bit colder every day for the past few weeks, and I think that today I have to be past denial. When I woke up it was fall. The air was darker, the rain was colder, and my spirits lower. That is how I know when it is no longer summer: when things look bleaker. So, goodby Summer, my fair weather friend.

2006-09-05T14:23:00.000-06:00

"What does this make you feel?" I asked Jacob, one of my best friends. He started to laugh and then recounted to me the time a little sparrow had flown, hell-bent on death, strait for his tire. There was no swerving, no smack as it hit the grill (because it didn't hit the grill), just a subtle bump and a flying of feathers.

Later that evening I was reading .ISM, a magazine produced for and by creative individuals, and read a poem that reminded me again of this little bird. The last line of this poem about a man who poisons a mouse he never saw or was even aware of states something to the affect of: How much stench an ounce of unseen flesh can create!

2006-09-01T13:33:00.000-06:00

What is it about rednecks and their aparent lack of sense as to what is cool and what is blatently cheap looking? Take a look at this photo. There is the moose on the bumper, which by itself combines nicely with the fat pushbar bumper for a rugged trail-beating, tuff-guy look; then, the guy goes and messes that up by putting the silloette of a naked women right on top of it without even trying to remove the moose first. The naked woman would also look ok by itself (if you are into that pornographic type stuff), it would say, "hey look at me I'm a tuff guy who likes porn." But together, both effects are nullified and the man is left looking like a, well, for lack of a better word, like a redneck. I love all people, please don't think that I have anything against those who like to listen to country music and drive overlarge trucks; please don't think that I don't love them. I merely recognize that some people need to be educated a bit more in deciding what message they want to send and sending it clearly. But, I guess that that is why design is a profession: it takes a lot of studying, and a lot of experience to do it well. So, in the end this blog entry is just a way for me to put this picture on the internet and poke a bit of fun at 'rednecks.' hmm.

2nd post

2006-08-31T16:33:00.000-06:00

When you look at this broken drawer front what do you see? I see the end of what used to hold a family together. My grandfather, about six years ago, sold the land on which the family farm stood for as long as there have been white men in this, the Salt Lake valley. As time went by technology became more and more advanced, and as the population grew and grew, it was no longer profitable to run a family farm; and besides that there was and is an increasing number of jobs much more interesting and profitable than farming. So, it was, rather than being handed down to the next son who would farm it, sold to the city.

I hear my father, uncles and grandfather talk about what it was like to farm, together, as a family. How they all worked together for the good of the family; noone was left out, all had to work together. They were forced to work out their differences with each other and get things done. Now that that is gone, brothers, if they don't want to, don't have to see each other, let alone resolve their differences. I am free to work in whatever I want, sure, but I don't feel like I connect to my sister the same way my dad does to his. Is it really better all of this progress? Families watch seperate TVs in seperate rooms, each eats what he or she can find, there is no family meal; distance not only phisically exists, but emotionally also. If it weren't for the family home evening program set up by the LDS church, I don't know if I would ever have any kind of meaningful conversation with my WHOLE family.

Now don't get me wrong, I love life, and I love my family; I just wonder if it wouldn't be a little bit easier to connect to my family if the farm still existed. I don't know if I would like to farm, I am sure I would given enough exposier to it; but, I LOVE design, my music, etc.

2006-08-30T16:49:00.000-06:00

So this is the first of, hopefully, an extended relationship between you the reader and myself. This first is the inbox next to me at the moment here at work. I took this picture with my new Nokia 6270 camera phone. Looks pretty good, huh? This is where my work comes in. My boss usually tells me the name of the company or organization for which I will be designing, then I question him to death trying to find out enough to design a shirt for aformentioned client. Then, I write the project down on my to-do list and put the paper with all of my notes on it in my inbox. So, I guess it really isn't an inbox as much as it is a to-do box, seeing as I am the only one who puts things "in" it.