Wednesday, October 7, 2009

foto essplosion

Been getting out of work early this week. Lately I've been so inexplicably restless and itching to see things and be around people, etc.

I saw this dead bird in Tribeca yesterday.

Went riding around on my bike trying to figure out if my respective geographical locale had anything worth doing/seeing. Ended up by Marine Park-Park and decided to explore the marsh that's across the street from it on Ave. U. Hard to believe its Brooklyn. Then again the whole time I was losing my shit over how beautiful everything was with the wind, 100 feet back in 'civilization' some douche was playing their base so super loud; harshed my mellow hardcore. It was a little scary fo sho, kept thinking I'd run into a disgruntled marshland creature or something. Upon making my exit, I got lost for two hours trying to find my way back to the street. Oops.

The bottom photos are of my hood. Wish I lived on a boat.

My darling companion and better half. Takes me everywhere for free and never asks for anything in return. What more could a girl ask for?

Monday, October 5, 2009

i am a professional

this is what i've been doing at work when i'm not being utilized as a receptacle for asshole customer tantrums.






apparently my subconscious is preoccupied with death, argyle motifs and vehicular transport. good to know.

today was amazingly slow; i got in a few more drawings than i put up. one i am currently polishing off.

otherwise, been an interesting past couple of weeks to the say the least. among other things, i'm currently in the process of half-settling into a studio space. excited to finally have the space to do the work i've been itching to do for months. i'm not a religious person, but i say hallelujah! hallelujah.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

It's been a while. Don't have much to show for myself other than the inside of a moleskine I was using exactly one year ago after I got back from Argentina.
Scanner earning it's keep, what what!

Monday, August 10, 2009

Friday, July 31, 2009


House on Jefferson Street, Brooklyn; 2009

House on Malcolm X Boulevard, Brooklyn; 2009

House in Old Town, Baltimore; 2009

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Maybe I've got Goya on the brain, I don't know, but I have finally kicked my ass into shape and I am finally posting the remaining etchings from my senior thesis exhibit. One part of my thesis was a series of d.i.y. styled political posters concerning mostly local issues. I chose to complement the localized content of the posters by focusing on global issues in the etching series.

The series was titled "Los Desastres del Imperialismo Americano" ["The Disasters of American Imperialism], after Goya's "Los Desastres de la Guerra".

Surge Success
Copper Etching on Grey Rives BFK, 2008

Ghost of the War Machine
Copper Etching on Grey Rives BFK, 2008

The Enemy Kitchen
Copper Etching on Grey Rives BFK, 2008

The last print was inspired by this particularly absurd reality of living in this fucked up crazy world.

Views from the actual commencement installation:


Monday, July 27, 2009

Exciting! Scanner is up and running! This was my maiden voyage of scanning expeditions:

Flyer to get folks involved with the Zine Bazaar at Red Emma's Radical Book Pavilion coming up in September!

Had this in mind when I was trying to figure out the composition for the flyer. I heart Goya. As much as he capitalized on his art in ways I don't necessarily care for; in the end he can do no wrong in my book.
"You can't hurry love" has been stuck in my head all day. I was hoping to find a video of an old school live performance, but only found lame photo mashups. I'm quite fond of this video though. Enjoy.

Diana Ross' eyeliner is so intense!!!

Sorry this is a total bullshit post.. I am stalling until I can use my scanner. Believe me once my scanner is operational, there will be so much danged shit up on here, all the imaginary and real readers of this blog will have their respective tops blown off. At least that's what I'm going for.


Monday, July 13, 2009

Been an interesting week to say the least. I got a temporary gig helping out with a mural on the west side highway. Didn't think much of it initially, but ultimately opened mine eyes up pretty significantly. To be honest, I haven't had a great deal of experience with public art where you actually have the opportunity of interacting with the public, and creating a consistent rapport with the folks that will see the work on a regular basis long after you've packed up the brushes and paint.

The first day I showed up for painting, I remember a car pulling up and beeping. A guy rolled down the window and said; "You gonna put some flowers? Pretty color flowers? It's too much green", and sped off.
And I thought; "Yea, okay whatever".. but then thought again about this fleeting interaction. I don't live here, I'm not going to see this mural very often at all; shouldn't we be taking these suggestions to heart?

The answer is not a simple one since there are so many contextual considerations to be made, and it happens to be a well documented fact that you can't please all the people all the time.

In any case; so-so-so many people loved it, and honked to give us the thumbs up. A couple folks privileged us with drive-by rants about how they hated it, preferred the old graffiti. Then there are all the photographers that treated this like some diamond in the rough of photo ops. And lastly; all the people that could give two shits about the mural one way or the other. Prime example; a lady walking her dog let it pee on the south-west corner. Then there was a car that hit the building and chipped off some of the brick. Around the corner also happens to be the rendezvous point for every garbage truck in the city. So many dynamics at play in an ever-changing setting. Let's not even digress about the lighting. It's tricky is what I've concluded, but in any case; it is what it is and I appreciate that.

I've never been saddened about not having to show up to work the following day. Despite how much being in the sun destroyed my skin, and I feel like I've developed an aversion to climbing tall ladders; the experience of working there was amazing! I didn't feel like an incompetent dolt, I knew what I was doing. I respected my coworkers and superiors; they were like kindred spirits in a strange way. Such a random coalescence of good and beautiful things and people.

Saturday, June 27, 2009

It's a little old, but this is the last illo I contributed to the Indy. The article talks a bit about the NLRA limiting the power/effectiveness of the labor movement, hence the imagery in the illo.

"Re-Forging the Working Class: A Review of Labor Law For The Rank And Filer: Building Solidarity While Staying Clear Of The Law"

Been working crazy crazy crazy amounts of time on new screen prints. The only thing acorn was good for was helping me put together a little money to get a nice big scanner! It's a beauty. Now all I need are the cables to hook it up. Once all that is sorted out, I'll be able to get some up on here and rejoice!

Also, MJ died. Sad :(

Monday, June 15, 2009

"Art Against War"

At long last I did some spring cleaning on my computer and uncovered pictures I forgot I had from the "Art Against War" show. I also found stuff from my commencement exhibition from last spring (but we'll save those for a rainy day). In any case, I figure better late than never.

For folks that don't know, the "Art Against War" show was a silent auction/benefit for I.V.A.W. (Iraq Veterans Against the War). We featured the work of their members and members of the community who share the sentiment that the occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan need to come to their immediate and rightful end.
The day of the show, there was a workshop held for veterans only where they were given the space and resources to express their stories and emotions with art. Then there was the exhibition where everyone got to show their work. There were also poetry readings performed by the veterans from the Warrior Writers Collection as well as some anti-war folk songs performed by my fellow event organizer Ryan.

Here are some photos from the show:

Photos: 1,2: Prints from featured artist/I.V.A.W. member Aaron Hughes 3: Featured artist/I.V.A.W. member Drew Cameron, prints on combat paper 4: I.V.A.W. member reading from Warrior Writers Collection 5: View of exhibit 6: I.V.A.W. member Trey Kindlinger reading from Warrior Writers Collection 7: Exhibit view 8: Print by artist Nadine Bloch, "Saro Wiwa" 9: Audience 10: D.C. street artist BORF contributed this screenprint 11: Photo collage by a MICA Grad student/Iraq Veteran 12: Featured artist/I.V.A.W. member Jon Turner, print on combat paper


Thursday, June 11, 2009

An open letter to the Brooklyn offices of a.c.o.r.n.

Dear deluded clerical workers and canvassers at the Brooklyn offices of a.c.o.r.n.,

May I ask a simple question? Not to be rude; but are you aware of what it means when the following two words: 'social' and 'justice', are used in conjunction with one another?

I'm not sure you do. You see, when you see those two words next to each other, it implies a certain degree of actually helping people that are suffering. A really basic example of when social justice is critically needed would be lets say if some huge developer decides that it wants to build a basketball stadium in a neighborhood, where the existing and [illegally displaced] former residents plus those of neighboring areas vehemently oppose the project on multiple fronts, for a wide range reasons because of the dire consequences that would follow the building of said basketball stadium.

When something like that happens, you generally would take action to help those people.

What you don't do is help the developer who proposes the project, so that you can get 100 units of affordable housing in a place where asthma rates will be so astronomical, that all of the people living in those units will likely live with or die of some terrible respiratory impairment or cancer from all the air pollution. Not to mention the misery of living with the unbearable light pollution, and everything that goes along with essentially living inside a massive and soulless commercial complex, with what would be the greatest population density in the Atlantic corridor, occupying the smallest amount of space.
Lest we forget, let's just run through all of logistical nightmares of building such a monstrosity; i.e.: super-poorly planned sewage and waste-treatment systems, ugly and illogical design/planning that when juxtaposed to the adjacent neighborhoods [that it would tower over] gives you a headache trying to figure out, the massive traffic congestion it will produce that will undoubtedly lead to a drastic increase in the rate of respiratory illnesses in the area, the negative effects it will have on the character of brooklyn, the shady methods used to displace the land-owning residents using eminent domain of all the despicable things! Need I say more?
If a "social justice" organization were to cut a deal with such a developer, not only would it legitimize the project and give them the tiny ounce of community support to go ahead without so much of a scratch in the media; it leaves entire neighborhoods stranded and disenfranchised completely.
By making a deal to 'cut your losses', you've already lost. Developers have no moral scruples about them, especially when they claim to be hurting financially. Undesirable planning (i.e. affordable housing) often ends up on the cutting room floor when there is major editing done to accommodate an shrinking budget.

Wouldn't you agree?

But I must be stupid, because such a thing has already come to pass, leaving hundreds of people stranded, and alienating hundreds of former allies from standing in solidarity with anything a.c.o.r.n. has a hand in.

Just to get the point across as fully as possible, another very obvious example of what social justice is not; is to have impressionable idealistic youths (and slightly naive older folks) subsidizing your inflated salaries by making them go door to door harassing poor people that are just barely surviving into giving them money to 'become members', never to hear from the likes of you again. All the while treating these unknowing individuals as disposable as a condom. Way to be.

From my experience working for the the lot of you, I can attest to the fact that when you have an objective of earning $80 a day by extracting money from the projects and poor neighborhoods, essentially from thin air, you will tend to view a person opening their door to you as if they were an temperamental atm machine. When that happens, it is impossible to simultaneously connect with them as human beings, convey the importance of a campaign and subsequently leave that door with any sense of morality intact. When you enter your plea, and no money comes out; you will move onto to the next atm machine with no more or less regard for the troubles and strife this next person might be afflicted with. Dare I say it, this is super dehumanizing and seems to go very much against the grain of helping other human beings. It hasn't worked so hot in Iraq either.

What I can deduce is that you all are in a desperate search of a group of impassioned robots with money extrapolating prowess. I am sad to report however, such a thing has yet to be invented by some bored enterprising youth in Japan or anywhere else for that matter.

In any case, it wasn't much fun for me to be treated like an emotionally expendable yo-yo, having a job dangled in front of my face for two weeks, only to end up feeling like a reject because I couldn't show much trophy money for having adequate "communication" skills (with an a+ in exploitation of people in desperate situations). For the record, you don't judge how well a person can communicate and connect with others based on such a superficial litmus test of utter bullshit.

And to go on a tiny tangent, f.y.i.; "campaign victories" aren't selling points. Grow a spine, find your moral compass. Stop selling, start organizing.

In all honesty, I am boundlessly relieved to have rid my life of being involved with such a morally reprehensible occupation of my precious, precious time. Hope you all have a grand old time swimming in the river Styx with ratner, bloomberg and all your other pals when the time comes. Don't forget your floaties!



Thursday, May 28, 2009

Hey folks.

I'm hanging in there. Working on new stuff, doing my best to keep my head above the water.

To the left is the most recent illustration I worked on for the Indy, and here's a link to it's written counterpart.

"Open Letter to Woman on the 6 Train"

It's a sad, but important article.
Keep pressing on everybody.


Monday, April 20, 2009

Post-Exposure Traumatics

I'll be damned. Last night I had the choice of being too tired to rationalize any productivity on my part, or being too rapt with thought to give my brain an inch to doze off. Fancy that.

In the end my eyelids gave in as they often do. However, the sleep only lasted long enough to let me have a terrificly traumatizing dream based on a repressed memory from last Thursday night.
I rode my bike 8 miles to Williamsburg to attend a talk about the activist communities response to the economic meltdown. In short, it was a good talk well worth the arduous bike journey.
Naturally, upon returning home I decided to shorten my trek by taking the train half-way back. Regretfully the only trains nearby are ones that have already produced a bad taste in my mouth from previous excursions, however I'll spoil a little by saying this trip cemented my hatred for these lines.
I could only find the J-M-Z lines, and thus, took one of those to Manhattan to catch my train. After 40 minutes of waiting, an M finally arrived, and was somewhat relieved to find the train near empty so I wouldn't have any trouble fitting in with my bike comfortably. Regretfully, emptier trains also mean sketchier riders.
I sat across from a guy that was asleep when I got on. I didn't think much of it at the time, but two stops in this guy woke up, look confused, and then his eyes settled on me which then produced a creepy-as-fuck grin that I did my best to ignore until he fell back asleep. Luckily the ride was only 5 stops, however this did little to spare me my unfortunate fate.
At Essex street, the guy wakes up again. I look off at the door to avoid his gaze, but notice he's trying to get into my line of vision. Against my better judgement, I glanced over and noticed the most defiling, vulgar, disgusting, repulsive thing i have ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on. THIS FUCKING SCUMBAG WAS JERKING OFF!!

I had thought to take a picture and report him to the police ala "Hollaback NYC" style, but as luck would have it, I spent the majority of my bike ride taking pictures of things along my ride and knew for a fact my phone memory was packed. I was panicked as it became clear I had no recourse for defending myself from this scum of the earth dirtbag. I didn't know what to do so I walked my bike to the other side of the train cart, only for him to get off at the same stop and creepily stalk behind me grinning all the way to the next platform.

You could call this luck I guess, but my train arrived just in time and the guy was still on the stairs as it left the station with me in it.

The dream was a little more satisfying in terms of vengeance, but it forced me to revisit the trauma that actually happened.
At the very least, in my dream, when the guy started masturbating, I threw my bike at him while loudly calling him a scum of the Earth. Everyone else on the train helped me push him out through the doors as we crossed the Williamsburg Bridge. See? Satisfying.

Anyway. all of this, while wildly amusing I'm sure, got my mind reeling about sexual harassment once again.

When I lived in Baltimore, sexual harassers made themselves known maybe once every other block (if I was lucky), but nothing ever came close to what happened on the M train.
In fact the last week, when I was meeting my sister at the Port Authority, while searching for a place to sit (f.y.i., there are four whole seats in the entirety of the structure) what I would assume to be an obese Mexican man wearing a grey cardigan and a purple button up, exclaimed his "love" for me and followed me out of the building sharing his wish to "marry me". It was really seriously annoying and not after long I told him very loudly to "Shut-up, and fuck off!". He followed me for another block until I threw a crumpled paper at him and he finally left me alone.
Later on, I went back into the port and was going on the up escalator when I saw he was going down following a poor middle aged blonde woman who I doubt spoke Spanish, and I also doubt had any wish to interact with this creep.
I alerted an officer that there was an obese olive-skinned man harassing women. The cop laughed, told me he'd call it in. Not much of a reassurance, but again, what am I left to do in this situation?

Things like this get me so irate you have no idea. I'm a generally easy-going happy person, but when something like this happens I can be pissed and morose for days. Which in turn, creates this plateau of depression because I am always left feeling so totally powerless.
What's weirder to me, is that in both situations my appearance was borderline homeless-looking. My clothes were torn, splotched with paint, hair greasy, feet stinky. What's the draw? I throw my arms up, and resign! I am totally beside myself!!!

Anyone have any thoughts?

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Here's a drawing I did for the IndyKids coloring book the folks at Indy are going to be putting out.

Feb 15th 2003 Protests

P.S.S. Bloomberg is a dick! Even though he claims to support it, he acted like such a baby in the live breaking news press conference. I think he's bitter he didn't think of it since it will be such an obvious cash-cow if it passes.
P.S.S.S No one should vote for such a spineless flip-flopping loser for a THIRD time! Seriously.

Friday, April 3, 2009

So before I acknowledge my regretful negligence towards this blog, I would like to take a moment to remember the economy. What a bastard.

Alright, so rolling back to why I've decided to post after such a long absence. To point out the obvious, the economy is going down-down baby, down-down the roller-coaster.. so to speak. Since my last post, I've relocated to the belly of the economic beast as it were. Funny how things are bad all over, but you would never guess it the way people incessantly continue to shop like it's going out of style, which I imagine is the only way to go? Thoughts?
I'm still optimistic about the future though, just now my optimism is grounded in the the harsh realities of the earth we will most likely face (and hey, it might actually unite us as a people.. unless of course someone invents a lo-tech ipod/facebook/twitter and so on) more-so than my previous encounters with good vibrations and free food that were keeping me adequately aloof to how things were/are.

I have yet to post anything from the "Art Against War" show from last April, or my thesis.. from last May. Total fail!

In any case, while I'm not crazy about the latest illustration I did for the Indy, it's been featured on their front page, which was kind of a big deal in my book. Here's the article it accompanied. Globalization for the win!

"The Great Unraveling"

In other news, Raúl Alfonsín died the other day. He was the first democratically elected President in Argentina after the Military Coup in the 1970's. He was a good guy, so while not a personal acquaintance, still sad to see he passed on.

Hope everyone has more than avoided being swallowed whole by the voracious appetite of the market.