How Abstract Is Too Abstract?

If you appreciate the fine arts (both performed and visual), have you ever asked yourself this question: what degree of abstract is too much?

THE FOLLOWING ARTICLE IS PURELY OPINION. IT IS IN NO WAY MEANT TO OFFEND ANYONE.

This question has been bothering me for quite some time--probably ever since I first picked up a pencil and found out about Jackson Pollock's works, which (forgive me--it's an opinion) leave a lot to be desired. The most astounding thing about Pollock, however, is that he's world-famous! For splattering paint all over a canvas with no real direction or purpose (again, opinion), his works have made quite a bit of profit at auctions.

More frustrating than this, I feel, is how often the same rule of rulelessness is applied even today. At my university, one of the art professors (quite a pretentious person) was recently awarded a feature of his art in a national exhibit. Well, I took the liberty of viewing this piece through the news article on the school page, and reading the corresponding article, as well.

First of all, I could hardly consider it art, myself--due to its completely abstract nature where there seemed little direction. The next annoyance came through in the article, where the professor was speaking of giving a lecture to his students about how, "with a little determination, maybe you'll also get your work in a museum."

Randomness does not take determination.

Pictures, images, paintings with meaning--a deeper motivation and a recognizable message--those take determination. They take years of perfecting a craft. Throwing stuff together and calling it art does not.

There will always be a rebuttal from the fans of this work and people who just appreciate it, and I understand this. It's all about the deeper meaning, looking at the random mess of lines and shapes and seeing the artist's message.

What message?

Where do you see, in that sector of a labyrinth of paint splatters--which looks exactly the same as the other 92 sectors of the "painting"--the artist's clear message and purpose?

I feel as though half of the message you see is you looking for a purpose where there is none.

Art is a gift, and it is a passion and a talent. If someone can pass off paint splatters or a spontaneous jumbling of irrelevant shapes and figures, call it art and have it featured in a museum, then so can everyone else. And suddenly, art isn't special, anymore. When every person and their aunt can pass off whatever they want as art, the word and medium of "Art" becomes utterly meaningless. It no longer takes skill. People would no longer go to colleges or special programs for the arts to develop talents they've possessed forever, because the three year old down the street is making more money than they are for creating popsicle stick sculptures.

Again, the previous article was purely opinion, and in no way meant to offend anyone.

On a lighter, and somewhat different note, I'd like to take a moment to give an update.

My friend in Texas called yesterday, and gave me a heads-up about a business opportunity starting in September. He's a bit nerdy, just like me, and he wants to open a game shop in town to fill the hole left behind by our local video store, which went out of business at the beginning of last year. So he's asked me to design the shop logo, i.e. the light-up sign that's going to hang above the door and/or on a stand. He's offered me $5,500 for a great design, and to me, $5,500 sounds like great pay for an art project! In addition to the sign, he also wants a painted mural on the building interior, and is willing to pay even more the mural. So I might have a bit of artwork ahead of me!

In the way of literature, I've been falling off a bit on the manuscript. I'm no less interested in finishing the book, but I really need to find a program or something of that nature to help with self-discipline.

Other than the manuscript, I've been hard at work on a short story for a contest on the art site I frequent.

(deviantART)

If you'd like to check out my page, here's a link to Sinergy-v2-0, my profile. There are a bunch of old sketches and digital works, as well as a couple older pieces of literature.

The short story will be called The Last Kitten, about a post-apocalyptic Seattle man trying to make sense of the wreckage of the world after an event called the Sickness, which was an uprising of a disease similar to polio, but attacks separate limbs and extremities rapidly, instilling paralysis until the heart and brain are paralyzed and thus cease to work.

One day he finds a starving kitten among its dead litter and mother, and decides to watch over the animal and give it the best chance he can to help it live on in a dying world.

More news still, a good friend of mine is trying to get a job at IGN through an Edge Shaving event on Facebook, and if you wish to help, go like all of her posts with the work4ign hashtag at https://www.facebook.com/jordan.sheehan.18?fref=ts

That's it for today. I'm going to start posting on a set schedule: Tues, Thurs, and Sat, before 3 P.M.

Until next time!

-Dakota

To My Grandfather: I Am Afraid

(This was me at the Strategic Air Museum in 2002, on our road trip to Mall of America)

This is a poem I wrote three days ago, really out of restlessness; I often find myself seeking guidance I know I won't find, and perhaps it's just silly, but it helps ease my mind sometimes, knowing that I at least tried.

To my grandfather, my dad's dad; wherever you may be

Thank you for using your last days to come and visit me

I was too small to remember, but my parents didn't forget

And I'm sure if I recalled, you'd be the best man I've met

And I wonder what you think of me, when you look upon this soil

You, the man who helped build an empire for Mobil Oil

I bet you watch me waste my life on useless activities

When I should be using my hands to make the things that part the seas

They tell me I have talent, but what good does that do me?

When I'm too lazy to use it, to live successfully

I hope wherever you are, you've forgiven the past I left

The one which I still struggle with, and probably will until my death

Grandfather, I am afraid, but not of what you might think

I'm terrified of time; I hate myself whenever I blink

I fear it worse than loneliness, fear it worse than my own end

Just how long, I wonder, will I continue to pretend?

Because no matter how you look at it, time is running out

I see it in the earth, the trees, and lakes, without a doubt

And I'm still sitting here. Wasting my whole life.

While it's carving away at me, like a rusty metal knife.

It chips and tears and breaks and makes the world seem a different place

Because there's nothing we can ever do that time will not erase.

It is the absolute, yet the most mysterious force

It's completely automatic, and for death it's even a source

And I continue to ignore this looming, blatant fact

Simply because I don't force myself to have a will to act

I sit here and I fester, as we all do each day

And what will I have to show for my time, when my time's all gone away?

Time brings with it the unknown, and of this, I'm also afraid

This may be the source of some of my Sloth, and a reason I am delayed

Perhaps I fear rejection, that's why I won't write my book?

Am I scared it too will fester without so much as a single look?

Dear grandfather, I beg of you; if there's anything you can do,

Please find a way to help me be successful just like you.

Dear grandfather, my dad's dad; wherever you may be

How fast does time seem to go for you, when you have eternity?

I'll see you next time,

-Dakota

There have been changes...

 Hey all! Hope this day finds you all well! I'm taking a different direction with this blog, hence the title change and template change! Also, now it's easier than ever to follow me! Just hit that button to the right and subscribe! Additionally, there are tools to share with your friends now. I'll be posting an updated bio shortly, so just hold on!

Catchya on the flip side!

-Dakota

Favorite Literature

(Check out Kevin MacLeod's music some time. It's fantastic.)

(Sorry about this. I had to. I posted a comment on here because it made me cry so, so hard.)

Today I thought I'd do something a little different and discuss my favorite pieces of literature, and the reasons behind my choices. I don't read nearly as often as I need to now, but when I was younger, specifically around the 5th grade, I started reading at a college level, and continued to read-read-read until the end of high school. The following are works which have stuck with me for one reason or another.

These are in no particular order.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
    by Douglas Adams
---This almost shouldn't need explaining. It's a comedic book (and series) with a wacky plot and (dare I say it) otherworldly humor. I can't remember another book that had my friends staring at me like I was insane while I was reading a piece of paper and audibly giggling the whole time.
---If you like Sci-Fi, or comedy, or the name Arthur Dent, go read this work if you haven't already.

I Am Legend
    by Richard Matheson
---Oh my God. I don't even know where to begin. For those who don't know, Richard Matheson's work has been widely influential in international mediums of art, not to mention the backbone for many movies and television shows. I Am Legend itself was an influence on the development of the modern Zombie mythos, genre, and fandom. It's spawned four (!) movie adaptations over the course of sixty years! My copy of this work was printed in a bound collection of Matheson's works, and there's not a single story in this collection I don't love! I Am Legend has a truly innovative plot and tone, with a semi-realistic depiction of a normal man's life in a now abnormal, post-apocalyptic world. Fantastic emotional connection for a character slowly losing his mind, and an unexpected twist will leave you breathless. I saw the 2007 film adaptation before I ever picked up this work, and though there are similarities, I was pleasantly surprised by the differences.
---Sci-Fi, Horror, or just plain good read, give this story a second glance.

Fifteen Hours
    by Mitchel Scanlon
---Admittedly, if you're not familiar with the Warhammer 40,000 universal lore, you won't have any idea what's happening in this book. This is entirely the WH40K fanboy in me shining through. And for those who aren't familiar, I'll give you a brief description. It's the 41st millennium. Humanity is spread over tens of thousands of colonies on other planets. They worship the God-Emperor of Mankind, basically think of Jesus mixed with Chuck Norris and a tinge of Alexander the Great. Anyway, there are space-orcs (or Orks, as it's spelled in WH40K) and countless other alien nasties always posing a threat to the colonies. Fifteen Hours is an encapsulation of... well... just that. Fifteen hours is the average lifespan of any Imperial Guardsman (standard infantry) coming to the planet on which the story takes place. I love the story because it made me feel. And that's more than I can say about a lot of other fiction nowadays.
---Only read this if you know what the hell's going on.

To Kill a Mockingbird
    by Harper Lee
---Do I need to present a reason for why I think this is fantastic? I shall; I think my reason might be different than a lot of other people's. To Kill a Mockingbird is a classic! Obviously. I can't think of many novels which were more influential. My reason for this being top-tier, though, comes not from its message, but ironically just from the times when nothing was happening in the book. We need some exposition here: I live in Missouri. I've lived in Missouri all my life. I've been all around the country, to NYC, Las Vegas, Mt. Rushmore, the Grand Canyon, Atlanta, Nashville, you name it. I've probably been there because my father's side of the family is spread all over the place and we just generally love going on vacation. But I will tell you there's no place to me like my home. And that's the feeling this work replicated to me. It was in a past era, but I still felt like I was reading about home, even with all the differences. We live in a small city, mind you. And the days when kids were just being kids reminds me of, well... just being a kid! Shocker, right? I'm really sentimental and I hold this book on a pedestal purely for that reason. Sure, it's got a fantastic story, too... But that's just the icing on the metaphorical cake!
---If you haven't read this... What's wrong with you? I forgive you just this once but go do it! GO NOW!

Marco's Millions and The Boxes
    by William Sleator
---Who am I kidding? These are basically the same story, interconnected. William Sleator was primarily an author to the young adult audience, and in middle school, guess what I pretty much was? And our library had these gems in stock, so naturally I scooped them up. My mind was blown from a blind read. I couldn't have been happier. Marco's Millions was written years after the boxes, and is a prequel about the life of one of The Boxes' characters. Marco and his sister found a portal to another dimension in their basement, and most of the plot hinges on the concept of a naked singularity and the relationship between intense gravity and the alterations of time. It literally opened my mind to deeper patterns of thought and concepts foreign to me. I honestly feel if I hadn't read these works, I wouldn't have such an appreciation for the High-Concept novel as I do today.
---Not really for non-Sci-Fi readers. Otherwise, well worth the energy and time. Even if you're an adult, I feel like these works can teach you something.

Stones in Water
    by Donna Jo Napoli
---This one may be a bit more obscure than many other titles on this list, but deserves a spot here, nonetheless. Stones in Water is a young adult novel about two Italian boys sent to a Nazi work camp. Of course, the story is a bit more complicated than just that, but my memory on it isn't the greatest. I'll just say that it's well worth the read (and the tears). There are dozens of books I read during my early middle-school years, but this is one of the few that stuck, and I know it's for a reason.
---Historical Fiction, highly emotional. Give it a look. I honestly don't think you'll be disappointed.

And there you have it. The pieces of literature I've always held in my heart, no matter where I am.

What are yours? 

Also, hit that follow button at the bottom of the page!

See you next time!

-D.

The Desolation of a Public Service Announcement

(What a greedy bastard.)

Today, I'm going to talk about a serious problem. Wild packs of abrupt endings are running rampant through our society. Yes, you read that right! The unexpected end of a movie and/or television show sequence are some of the most mentally dangerous things you can come across! So take heed: Here are some steps you can take to defend yourself!

1. Get a Lobotomy--your mind won't care if it can't care.

2. Sew your eyes shut and clog your ear canals.

3. Have your friends spoil everything for you so you'll see it coming.

Or, the most realistic and serious ones:

4. Expect the unexpected and go in with an open mind.

Alright, past the stupid metaphor, here's the real reason behind this bizarre post: I finally saw the Desolation of Smaug. I really liked it. Until (spoilers) I got to the end. And it ended. And I still liked it. I just didn't expect it to end on such an abrupt note. Of course, I shoul've seen it coming; it's a trilogy taken from a single book, split into three parts. Not to mention the first movie pretty well had a similar (although far less suspenseful) ending.

But it'd be different if it were just movies. Television is getting pretty weird, too--although the abrupt cutaways aren't so much from the endings as the commercials, now. There's literally no warning when a commercial cuts in, now. There's no fade-out to black. It'll be one scene of a show and then BAM! Commercial, which always initially confuses the hell out of me as my brain would tell me it's still part of the show until I see the IHOP logo, or whatever foodening place they decide to try and shove down my throat.

Sigh.

In other news, I've made another contribution to the art world with my painstakingly-scribbled doodles. Still working on my novel manuscript, so that's good. Started working at a radio station, so that's good. Lost 40 lbs. since the beginning of the year.

I stumbled into a conversation with a friend the other day about what I wanted to do with my life. He mentioned how video games were actually a viable career, and while it would sound pleasing to a lot of college-aged dorks like myself, I had to tell him it wasn't the path for me. And it led to a deeper conversation about some really personal stuff and the inner machinations of my enigmatic mind. (Cue the milk spilling.) No, moral of the story: I was emotionally scarred by being bullied as a child and since then have had an extremely low self-esteem and even when I should have let that go by now, I'm still letting myself be affected by it. I wanted to make something original and new and build a career off of just the talents I was born with, as I don't feel right making money from someone else, or making someone else money by being a mindless and meaningless cog in an overarching corporate system. I worked in an Energizer factory last summer, fresh outta high school and working 12-hour, full-time shifts. Yikes. Every night I stumbled out of the plant and nearly died on the way to my dad's car. Okay, that's an over-exaggeration. But I don't like the idea of working my ass off for nothing, while the people upstairs or down the hall, who don't do anything, make all their money off of me. Also, I'm a huge attention whore (one of my worst qualities) and I wanted to make something the world would love. Although, I feel this is for a more justified reason than a lot of other A-Ho's out there. I want to feel like everyone likes me, to make up for the times I felt like no one liked me.

I always feel an irrational need to prove myself to the world; to people I don't even know. Sometimes I need to slow down and think. I'm quite good at thinking. I'm not the greatest at thinking before acting.

So there. Now you know a little more about me, and a little about the dangers of abrupt movie endings.

Knowledge is power.

And feel free to hit that follow button at the bottom of the page! Tell all ya friends! I'll see you next time!

-D.