a mood is not something you can pin to a point in time. It’s traced over the course of a day. Or weeks. Or months. Or years. Like weather–there will be seasons, there will be storms. There will be, now and then, blessed breakthroughs of sun and light. So it’s no good, telling yourself… or anyone else, that your mood is this or that.
This was a day that began with near panic attack anxiety level. I suppose it got better. Acute blurred into chronic, if that’s what you call, better. I need dystopic reading material… to distract me from this dystopia I inhabit.
No, it’s not all in my head. It’s out there. Everywhere. I’m just registering it at sometimes what approaches near suicidally acute levels… than, like I said… it blurs into a more general miasma.
It’s completely beyond my comprehension–why anyone would choose to have a child now, given what they are likely going to endure.
Life without a future. There is no future. This is all we have. All we’re gonna get.
Author: wjacobr
Visual artist, poet, novelist, activist & Street Medic, living in North. Penn Name: Jacob Russell
My blog is a confluence of art, writing, politics.
my Art portfolio: Art-by-Willard.com
#427 & inverse – 428
#428″ both 5×7 watercolor. 427 (above)Red Violet -yg bg yo
428 (below) Yellow Green, rv ro bv
View GALLERY HERE.
#426 BLUE with o-y-r
#425 First Comes the Blinding Flash…
… and then you dieWe Who came of age at the dawn of R&Roll
All the stuff from people two generations younger, on how much they got from Bowie and what the aging and passing of generations of pop stars born within a year or two of my own entrance to planet Earth, meant to them. Lennon, Dylan…et al.
I was born 1941, the day the Nazi’s invaded the USSR. I’m an artist filled to choking with debt to the past and no clue how to deal with it, but to use it for my own vision against the stream of recent history. 50’s rock of my teens broke down borders for me, I discovered, not David Bowie–who came way later when I was in my 30’s…but be-bop and cool jazz. The Beatles, the rock of the late 60’s and first couple of years of the 70’s were like movie soundtrack to my 20’s –while my own head was all Bach and Josquin du Pres and Palestrina and late 19th C, early 20th Modernists–artists both literary and visual. My overwhelming sense from all this is that, as an artist, I have no place in history, and not a sq mm of space free from it. I feel like a Lost Generation of One
Wednesday Watercolors – Zen
Source: Wednesday Watercolors – Zen
Cold! We are aliens in this universe.
The human body adjusts well to heat… if one doesn’t spend much of the day in AC, or going in and out, hot to super cooled. And you can stay out of direct sun, and be where there’s at least minimal air circulation. But the only way to adjust to extreme cold, is with layers of clothes. The cold will kill you. And it doesn’t fuss around about it. Three hours is like, max… and you won’t notice it much beyond the first hour or so. In cold like we have in Philly now–not even that much time (Siberia, Antarctica…hell, Ely, Minnesota!–minutes!) .
Dress warm, peeps.That’s the real voice of this Universe you think you’re a part of.
It’s saying: die!
Without that thin blanket of air around the planet–we’d have joined up with the Universe long ago.
Look up at the stars. They’re plenty hot. But most of what’s out there is near absolute zero. It’s telling you, you don’t belong. And won’t last long, either, by its reckoning.
Yep. We’re star stuff alright. Wrap that thought around you and walk out naked into this night… and see how long it keeps you warm… or alive
#423 Watercolor, because the End is Near
5×7″ watercolor, ink
Water colors are fragile. Even with high quality pigments and all cotton paper, they require special care: store away from direct sun, florescent lights, or too bright light of any kind. They need to be matted with non-wood pulp, acid free board and kept behind glass, with mats of sufficient thickness to leave air space between the paper and glass. There are other treatments–covering with resin, but I doubt if conservators would recommend them.
But then, we are at the end of human habitation on this planet (or any other), so who needs to consider ‘posterity?’ Let fragility be a virtue. Let our art perish with us–they’ll be no one to enjoy it when we’re gone. Let it feed the rats and roaches that survive us!
Everything Wrong with Art & Capitalism
Experts expect a ‘severe correction’, particularly in contemporary and American art, after years of spiraling prices and celebrity and luxury obsession
Art Market in ‘Mania’ Phase, from the Guardian. Including this report and all its links
For my other posts on Art & Capitalism, alternatives to the market/gallery system, click HERE and scroll down.
Revolution now!
#222 & 221, inverse
Playing with colors. Each an approximate inversion of the other in hue and tone. #222, ink and water color. Continuing my exploration of what I can do with water color… a medium I’ve not more than dipped into… but finding I love … being in love with color, how could I not be? Like being a student! Would I have been able to do this in a water color class? Maybe Debi Riley’s! Check out her blog–beautiful work, and a natural teacher.
If it’s not play… if it stops being play… get a job at something that pays.
View GALLERY HERE.
Jacob Russell's Magic Names 