A journey.

Where am I?

2010-12-21T07:51:00.000-08:00

Starlets, I don't know if anyone is reading this but I feel obligated to post something here. It has been a while since I have written in these woods but I have a legitimate excuse. Also, I don't want anyone thinking I'm dead. Not yet, not before I owe back taxes.

I get asked about A Journey once or twice a week. Is it dead? No, it will never be dead. You can read a new post every day and have enough content to last over a year. Content I'm proud of. Looking back through these archives is nostalgic, there are some gems hidden away, snippets of myself growing up not just as a person, but as a young asshole.

Frankly, the blogging format is one that I have been losing interest in for a long while. I'm shifting away from it but that does not mean I'm going away. Unfortunately for you, it means I'm just trying to take my shit to that infamous "next level". Ah, the American Dream.

Here's how I was thinking about it. As I tweet, tumbl and work on my own site, I have been trying to come up with an easy out, a simple analogy that could explain everything to everyone. That's when it hit me. Deer feces.

Deer have very recognizable poop. Small little balls that Doe seem to churn out at a constant rate. It doesn't smell and it's easy to step in. I won't speak for us all, but frankly deer shit is a nuisance.

I feel like that is what this blog was becoming. Rather than have regulated, small little dumps that can't be ignored, why not have a few solid ones every so once and a while? You know, like a bear? Then maybe everyone won't have to wallow in my deer shit and we can all get along.

At least, that's what I hope.

I'm going to be back here one day, I know it. Until then, I have to tip my hat to the crew of this vessel (that includes you readers), cock back the half smile and say "See you later"

So...

cock

See you later.

Sweet Home Manhattan

2010-03-29T14:19:00.001-07:00

The trip back home was marvelous, I didn't get to see everyone because I was only there for a two days so if we had plans and I disappeared forgive me. Somehow I filled up my 2 gigabyte SD card to the brim in 48 hours, which is odd because I'm not much of a photographer. Well, sometimes I am.

After my camera took a big steaming dump of New York on my laptop, I thought I'd share a few of the high and low moments with you all.

Seeing my favorite dog Bella was wonderful, we played like the old days and I could tell she was happy to see me.

Equally great was seeing my favorite view from Manhattan.

No, stupido, not anything from the high line. I'm talking about this view, baby:

Another great moment was going over to Daniel's house. For some reason I haven't set foot in his abode for years. We joke about it all the time, that I had become a rumor in his household, that Daniel's parents get suspicious when he says "I'm going to chill with Kevin" thinking he is actually saying "I'm going to go do drugs with bad people"

Needless to say, nothing had changed. Just like the old days.

The real highlight was spending some time trying to record an awesome episode of Friday Night with K-Dog. It was the dopest night to do it, energy was high and my boy-o's Chris, Ludwig, Carlos and Daniel all hit up the microphones and had our shot at greatness.

Well...things didn't turn out that great. After tanking for at least an hour, we all started laying around in defeat. The place looked and smelt like an opium den.

Essentially, this photo of Chris can summarize how much fun we were having.

Still, even after failing miserably and having nothing to do but revel in our own incompetency, we all had fun. That's what I love about these buckos.

All of that is long gone now. I'm tucked away in my living room, back in Chicago, chilling with Spuds Mackenzie, thinking about some prints I have to do tonight. It's a totally different pace from things back home but in some ways I enjoy it just as much.

I do look forward to going home, though.

Episode Three, Baby

2010-03-28T19:20:00.000-07:00

The vacation induced hiatus ends today and what a better way to celebrate that than uploading the third installation of the Friday Night with Kevin Gannon poopcast?

If you missed it last week don't fret, you missed nothing. Literally.

Enjoy, baby. Don't forget who's back in town.

Stay Tuned...

2010-03-21T08:35:00.000-07:00

Sorry folks, I guess I should have put this up a few days ago.

Why are there no posts? No poopcasts? I'm on my two day vacation, baby!

That's right, my school gave me two days off for spring break and I'm trying to live it up while I still can. It might be hard to believe but even K-Dogs gotta' rest sometimes, too.

I'll be flying back to Chicago tonight. See you then.

Robbie and Chicago

2010-03-19T08:02:00.001-07:00

Robbie spent some time here and I decided to take a few days off and update you about things later. I guess now is later.

We had a pretty wonderful time. Robbie seemed to have brought the nice weather with him and Chicago was a completely different city. Don't believe me? I have photographic proof:

I swear to god, that's Chicago.

We didn't do much but lounge around the crib and occasionally take a nice stroll somewhere. Something I never thought I'd see what Preston and Robbie lounging in the Gene Siskel Theatre. Talk about synergy.

It felt like the scene in Heat when Pacino and DeNiro finally met over a tense meal only the meal was a movie with Janet Gaynor and no one was tense at all.

I think the only low moment of the entire trip was when a telescope stole a quarter from Robbie.

It was his last one.

Sadly, all this fun had to come to an end. Robbie is back down south and I'm back in the Big Apple. Tonight I record the third episode of Friday Night with Kevin Gannon and let me tell you:

This one's a doosey.

Litho With My Bro

2010-03-14T03:54:00.000-07:00

Robbie Cline is in Chicago for a week and I'm having a blast kicking it with him just like the old days in very new day surroundings.

Today I had a shitload of litho prints that needed to get done which meant, unfortunately, Robbie had to tag along with Steph and I as we panicked to get as much work done as humanly possible.

After a few hours, Robbie became a crucial element of the artistic process. He timed each print, forcing Steph and I to work like athletes during the most important game of our lives. Our record? Two minutes and 30 seconds. That's from plate treating to sitting the print down to dry. That's beautiful.

One thing that blew was that we didn't have an extra pair of gloves for my precious little hands. The professors insisted that we use gloves but I had no choice but to do this barehanded. What a mistake.

There is a stage in the process where you coat the plate with asphaltum liquid. This stuff looks like asphalt, smells like asphalt and feels like asphalt. Essentially, it's road in a bottle.

I found out the hard way that getting street all over your hands is nearly impossible to tolerate and even harder to clean off.

Still, six hours later the prints came out nicely.

My hands still smell like Delancey street on a hot day. Blech.

Second Episode

2010-03-12T07:18:00.001-08:00

It looks like this poopcast business is official. iTunes is not giving me a tough time with anything and updating episodes is easy and smooth. Like a baby's butt. Uh...why'd that come out dirty this time?

How do I know this? Today I put up the second episode! Yay!

For those of you who have subscribed you probably already know this (congratulations: you are the cool kids). Those of you who haven't, now you do. You can listen from up above or you can download the files from iTunes.

Your call. I'm all about autonomy.

Finally, do me the favor and rate this sucker on iTunes. I'd suggest fives stars but you know what? You can rate it whatever you want. Seriously, though, five stars would be best.

Frogs

2010-03-11T19:56:00.001-08:00

Sorry folks, nothing special today. Got a lot of work and I'm thinking of hitting the sack ASAP. Who knows what I'm doing, maybe I'm prepping the next podcast or something?

Nah.

Here, this should hold you off. It's not much but it's pretty beautiful.

Later.

iTunes? How pretty

2010-03-10T03:26:00.000-08:00

iTunes approved my poopcast. I didn't realize that the name of the account I have at a hosting site would be the name of the show so there is a discrepancy in the title and the image. That sort of drives me crazy but I'll figure something out.

Go subscribe!

Dark Side of the Internet...

2010-03-09T02:00:00.000-08:00

I can't sleep and have a class in three hours. Usually during these times of stress and panic I try to do something productive so I don't feel like a complete waste tomorrow. Tonight I decided to use my time wisely and check out the blogs recent traffic report.

Things were decent but not ideal. The hiatus seems to have fucked things up. Hopefully word will hit the interwebs that K-Dog is back in business and things will be like they used to.

After perusing for a few minutes I noticed something very peculiar. The post on my track marks that weren't actually track marks has gotten me a lot of traffic.

Strange.

I decided to do a google image search. On the second page of results, I saw a fine example of the Internets wonderful talent of taking things out of context and making people look like asses.

Great. A photograph that comes up after searching "Track Marks" with my name underneath a photograph of my forearm.

What could go wrong with that?

Top Fans

2010-03-08T13:34:00.001-08:00

This might be the funniest thing Facebook has ever churned out.

It's good to know that if my close friends got into a massive brawl I could hide behind Carlos as he whoops ass. Daniel seems to have done well for himself but he has a stick, which I think is cheap.

The real climax of the battle is the final round. As the dust settles from the small skirmishes, Carlos and Ludwig face off, each covered in the blood of fallen foe. Each with their mind on one thing: friendship.

I congratulate Carlos, but I tip my hats to all of you fighters. Well done.

First Episode!

2010-03-07T17:35:00.000-08:00

Yay! The first episode of Friday Night with Kevin Gannon is online. Please enjoy and shoot me any advice because lord knows I need it.

I submitted the podcast to iTunes and they are reviewing it, probably checking to make sure I don't talk shit about Steve Jobs or the itampon. I read online that the process could take up to a week so I figured I'd post the above to hold everyone off.

I pray you enjoy and I can't wait to really get this ball rolling and have this shit live in the world of itunes.

Poopcast

2010-03-07T01:27:00.001-08:00

Remember the special package I mentioned yesterday? Well, it came today and I am ready to reveal what it means.

Essentially, I invested in a wittle baby mixer so my recordings can sound super sweet.

What recordings, you ask? Well, I am proud to announce that I am going to try and start up a podcast. Thing is, it's not anything like Kevin Gannon Radio. In fact, it's something completely different. The biggest format change in my mind is that each episode will be a lot shorter than an hour. I think that investing time like that should be reserved for something special. It will have pre-planned bits (which, tonight I recorded the intros to) and will not have the musical element to it.

At the same time, even though the podcasts are going to be much shorter, they will come much more often. It's difficult to gauge how it will work until I start doing it. Still, right now in my head I'm thinking once every week or every other week. Not sure yet.

Either way, it's an exciting new thing to look forward to. I'm hoping that it will help me get a little bit of a release every week (lord knows I need it) and I hope it does the same for you too.

The ultimate plan is to get an RSS feed, a space to host it and get it on the podcast section of iTunes. Just like the bigwigs!

So folks, it's official. Kevy wevy has a podcast.

I don't have any names yet. Could you help me and suggest some?

Dog-Tired, Lingerie and Diphenhydramine

2010-03-03T22:39:00.000-08:00

I write about sleep a lot. As far as this blog is concerned, the topic is about as tired as I am. Still, it seems that catching Z's is a pretty significant part of my life. A lot of my work revolves around snoozing and without the right amount of hours under my belt I'm a cranky asshole.

That being said, in the past few days I have been a very cranky asshole. I went three days straight without any shut eye and the days after that I couldn't sleep at night. Instead, I would sit in my room, stare at the ceiling and wait for the sun to rise. If i didn't have class, I would pass out around 9 in the morning and wake up when it was dark again.

Needless to say, that is a very, very depressing way to live. So depressing in fact, that I started to get very blue.

There isn't much to do in those hours, especially when most of the projects I'm working on these days necessitate properly equipped studios for me work in. I can solemnly swear that if it weren't for Opie and Anthony I would have gone completely insane by now. It's nice to know that at least at my lowest I can laugh a little bit.

Basically, my nights go as follows. I sit on the toilet and read some Seinfeld scripts because it's a lot quieter than watching them on TV.

Once that gets old, I switch over to whatever other bathroom literature we have kicking around the bano. Long story short, let's just say that Victoria's only secret is that most of her models are composed of more airbrush paint than flesh and blood.

Actually, it's funny. One of the most annoying things in the world is getting junk mail intended for the people who lived here before us. I can't tell you how many times I have been excited to see mail only to find out that the old tenants are due for their annual tooth cleaning. I have systematically been calling and cancelling most of the subscriptions but Preston and I both agreed that Victoria's Secret still has a small demographic in this house and them mailing magazines here is not a nuisance.

If it's close enough to daylight that I know I'm not going to sleep, I get dressed as slowly as humanly possible. This moment is when salt gets rubbed in my sleepy wounds. Staring at yourself, fully clad at 5 in the morning, knowing you will be on a train to school in only a few hours is the worst feeling imaginable.

Finally, I leave you with a warning. One of the ways I combated this sleep deprivation is by taking over the counter medications. They contain an active ingredient called Diphenhydramine which is, essentially, a big fat anti-histamine. I found out through my Mom that this stuff seriously fucks with your mental health. A few google search results verified this. I can tell you personally, as someone who took twice as much of these things as instructed to every night for a month, it does start to make someone very, very depressed.

So, please readers, if you are tempted to take such measures to get a good night's sleep do what I'm doing. Go get some help from a head doctor, not a generic miracle pill.

Anyway, things should get better as I sort my shit out. I have a very special package coming in the mail tomorrow from Amazon. It effects this blog and all I can say is stay tuned: something awesome is in the works.

Best Director Ever

2010-02-28T21:04:00.000-08:00

Today I was feeling bored and blue so I started editing the long lost Broke Toe hit, Spirit Guide. We admittedly dropped the ball on this shoot which was crushing because a few of you people helped us out financially. Still, I gotta' say, it might not look great but it's pretty fucking funny. I'm looking forward to maybe sharing it with the world. Things like that need to be discussed with the others.

Either way, when I first booted up my dusty drive I opened Final Cut and the first thing I saw was this piece of footage.

Sort of summarizes the tone of how we were all feeling about this movie.

Old Skool

2010-02-26T20:20:00.001-08:00

Whenever I'm in my intro to sound class looking at the 4 track recorders I think to myself "I wish Ludwig was here so he could do this shit for me"

I gotta' say, things are a little intimidating in this new world. Still, I'm shocked at how similar this whole process is to film editing. Threading the tape felt like loading a 16mm projector, cross fading cuts in final cut make more sense and isolating audio through channels on the mixing console is just like isolating layers in any non-linear editing program.

I can't wait to post some sick audio on here. Still, I can't imagine the damage Ludwig could do in this place.

Is it possible the next Kevin Gannon Radio will be recorded on quarter inch tape? We shall see.

Why China is Deaded

2010-02-25T10:50:00.000-08:00

I'm not a huge fan of the Chinese government. I admit, my often fanatical American pride plays a role in that, but even if propagandist Frank Capra films didn't make me tear up I think I'd still feel negatively by the big wigs who control our eastern friends.

Recently I was talking to Preston about my theories on communism (I know, what a college cliche). I think that, much sooner than later, Communism is going to get deaded and fizzle out. It's a bold statement considering the CPC has one of the largest bodies of supporters than any other party in the world, but I see it as something totally unavoidable.

I can't say I'm an expert on the topic but I can say I'm an expert on something else. The Internet.

Technology is changing everything. It's unifying our knowledge into one collective mass, easily accessible and alterable. It's making us all notice how many things we have in common, and at the same time, it's reminding us of how different we are.

Iran? Deaded. Once kids see how other kids live, wearing blue jeans, owning cool shit and having a good time they decide to take action.

China? Soon to be deaded. Everyone knows that the Internet in China is a joke. Good idea, too, because I'm pretty sure that if some Chinese kid could surf through Blogger he'd get the next ticket out of there and party hard in cooler countries. Still, the government over there is about to make one big, big mistake.

Google.

It's one thing to keep the wonders of the interwebs from compliant civilians, but now Chinese researchers and developers might lose access to Google. I give it ten years before China starts lagging behind on major advances in science and medicine as the rest of the world pushes forward. Once that happens, China becomes the world's bitch. That, my friends, will be the first nail in the coffin.

Mark my words.

Google.

Key to the Kingdom

2010-02-24T13:09:00.001-08:00

I know I have mentioned how much I hate public bathrooms and then said "but that is for another post" at least five times. I'm gonna' compile my woes into one big post eventually but today however, I want to talk about a specific element that I hate.

The bathroom key.

I like privacy. In fact, if it's not a single stall bathroom I'll usually awkwardly wait for everyone to finish up and get out. Every so often you come across a private shitter and it's magical, feels almost like home. These bathrooms are my saving grace and I'm never upset to see that I'm going to be taking care of business in solitude. That is, of course, until I see the worst three words in the world of bathroom etiquette:

"Ask For Key"

I hate this. Sometimes I'll just walk out and take my business to another fine institution who appreciates and respects my urine. Whenever I open a bathroom with a key, I feel like I'm walking into some one's home and pissing on the welcome mat. I feel like I'm starting a car and shitting on the leather. It's just unnatural. Empty bathrooms should never lock.

Why is the door locked? Junkies? Shut up, invest in a broom and get them out the old way. How am I supposed to casually walk up to someone in front of a crowd of people and ask for a key to the bathroom without looking, sounding or feeling like a 2nd grader? Worst, and most disturbing: how many people have touched their genitals and then immediately touched this gigantic, unwashed object attached to the key?

That's the one that gets me. There is always something tied to the key so it does not get lost. I can feel the filth when I touch it. I'm not an asshole like Howie Mandel by any means but it really makes me feel gross. That's why what was handed to me at a Subway's really fucked me up:

Oh, wow, a spoon. That's so cute! I get it! It's because you stir the food that I am eating with the same sort of spoon....yeah...

BLEGH

This is How it Starts

2010-02-23T10:47:00.000-08:00

I have been trying to get back on the wagon but things are making that a little bit difficult for me. There's a buttload of stuff going on these days that I don't want to get into here but I can admit that due to said things, blogging has been the absolute last thing on my mind. I have been doing a little growing up and thinking some seriously heavy (and seriously consuming) thoughts. Maybe I might get into things later.

Till' then, let's see if I can get the pendulum swinging like the old days.

Since I'm sure all of you are sick of seeing the last post over and over again I thought I would give you an update. Ta da! The prints are done.

It's a series of four. I'm a total schmuck and can't get a solid print as easily as everyone else. In other words, for every dude you see on that table there were about four or five fuck ups. My batting average isn't too hot but I still find a way to win the game. That's all that matters, I think (note: if any of you sports fans can think of a good real life comparison, help me out in the comments. I'm drawing a blank).

Now that those etchings are done we have moved onto more serious, big boy things. I started a lithograph yesterday and of course, started drawing an idiot.

I gotta' get over those things. I wanted to play it safe while I learn the medium but I'm getting bored with those fools. Hopefully I can spice it up a bit with this gal.

Lithography is pretty crazy, in fact, check this shit out for yourself. There are some pretty ridiculous things involved, like the fact that at no point can any of your skin touch the surface you are drawing on. Try that right now. Hard, eh?

We aren't using stones which sort of sucks but in the long run is better as it gives me one less thing to fuck up consistently.

Thanks for checking even when K-Dog Zillionaire is AWOL. I hope to get back on all of your bookmark bars soon.

There is Hope...

2010-02-08T21:03:00.000-08:00

I signed up for an intro to printmaking class this semester and almost immediately couldn't help but wonder if it was a wise decision. I thought it would mostly take place on photoshop and a silkscreen (like my last print media class) but found out that it's much more artsy than that. Woodblocks? Lithography? I can't make an image with a pointy object and a piece of plywood! After fiddling around for a little while I realized that I did indeed have a difficult task ahead of me.

Can you say fail? I could.

Today I was getting more and more worried and as my woodblock stared back at me, equally uncomfortable with the prospect of me holding a v-gouge, I felt bad for the idiot.

Then something magical happened. I tossed some ink on him and rubbed out a few tests on doo-doo brown paper. Even in his most shitty form I couldn't believe how cool this guy looked.

Was this coming together? Is it possible? Maybe I can get this shit done. Can an idiot possibly live a life on a piece of wood? Well, I think the answer is yes. What do I want to do now? Make more.

I got bit by the print bug, baby.

Air Force Bugbots

2010-02-08T14:17:00.000-08:00

I know in this day and age five minutes is a lot to ask of people (unless of course it's a video I uploaded) but I really suggest watching this if you have the time.

I will enlist if I get to control one of these puppies while I sit comfortably in a bunker eating Funions.

What Happens When I'm Gone...

2010-02-07T22:19:00.000-08:00

Starlets, you don't need me to point out the obvious but I'm going to anyway: things in this part of the interwebs have been slow.

Why? Well, I don't know, really. I started my new semester and I guess got preoccupied with all my new classes and routines. I also got hooked on The Wire which has been sucking up most of my free time and keeping me on the futon and away from the keyboard.

Excuses aside, I realized two very important life lessons. Sometimes I can't help but wonder "What will happen to me when I die?" Will I leave a footprint on this earth (I'm not talking about my carbon footprint, that things through the roof. Win!)? Will people remember me? What will become of my things?

In the past few weeks I have gotten closer to getting an answer to those questions. Leaving this blog for so long shed some light on what will happen when I leave this great earth.

1. People will talk about me. A lot more

than they did when I was alive.

The comments on my last post went through the motherfucking roof! I used to use how many people left comments as an indicator of how many people read my blog. After doing some research and looking at Sitemeter, I realized that the two don't really correspond. People just don't seem to want to talk that much (except for a select few of you sly dogs). That all changed when I went AWOL. I never knew that the key to being a successful blogger was by not blogging.

Huh. Guess that says something about blogs...

2. Salvia and Viagra salesmen will

replace me.

It's good to know that when I'm gone the people who loved me will be comforted by a group of such noble men and women. I sure as shit don't smoke Salvia and Viagra isn't on my grocery list as of now so I'm somewhat puzzled as to how these people thought this space would be a good venue for their plugs. I'm sort of flattered that a spammer thought I got enough hits to make a profit but in the long run, I worry. I hope we don't have a war on our hands.

Wait, fuck that. I would love a war.

I'm glad I got a little closure on this subject. I'm not checking out anytime soon (unless a piano falls on my head) but it takes a little load of my back.

Feels good to post again.

Leaning Tower of Pizza

2010-01-30T18:19:00.000-08:00

Last semester things hit Preston and I pretty hard. Needless to say, slugging over to Jewel Osco and buying groceries was not on our list of priorities.

That being said, we made many phone calls to our friends at Domino's pizza during the final days of intense work. They never failed to fill or stomachs without slimming our wallets and always gave us the nourishment needed to keep churning out quality work. Problem is Preston and I are very, very bad at taking out the recycling.

That is why we have this new interesting piece of furniture in our kitchen.

Scary part? That's only about half of what we ordered. In fact, for some reason that doesn't even include the Cinastix or wings we gorged ourselves with bi-nightly.

I cannot wait to do it all over again with the new Dominos recipe. In case you are wondering: it's delicious.

Off to a Good Start. Not.

2010-01-28T06:15:00.000-08:00

I'm finally back in Chicago and it feels good. I am ready to hit this semester hard and make some dope work. Somewhere in the equation to yield success at SAIC is a little known (and to those who do know it, often ignored) necessity: a good nights sleep and promptness.

Anyone who has ever made an appointment with me for anything knows that I'm an early bird. This means that usually I arrive a half hour before I need to for every class so I can enjoy the commute over at a comfortable pace all while leaving enough time aside for Murphy and his stupid law to gobble up if he's feeling in the mood to shut down the Blue Line.

Today is my first class so I wanted an extra early start. No problem. Well, there's one problem. Last night I ignored the little known secret that promotes a healthy, happy day. In other words, I stayed up very late and got two hours of sleep.

Not a huge dilemma, I'm a big boy and have the next three days to rest. I crawl out of bed feeling incredibly shitty. Shittier than usual, actually. I look outside and it's dark as night. I toss on the long johns, get dressed and bundle up for the cold, unforgiving Chicago commute.

I arrive to class. It's early and no one is there. Nice. Hang out for a bit, drink some free Coffee and surf the web.

Time goes by. It's 9:00 AM and no one is in sight. Was class cancelled? No way.

9:15. Do I have the right room? Panic sets in. I bite the bullet and wait it out and surf the web. That's when I notice something on Gizmodo. The most recent post (one I had not read earlier in the morning) was at 8:00 AM. Had I gone through a time warp? My phone said it was just after 9. My laptop said it was 9, too. What's going on? Where is everybody? Am I being watched?

I'm scared.

I go downstairs to the empty lobby and ask the security guard a silly question.

"Is it eight or nine?"

She looks at me and says the most saddening news I could hear.

"It's eight. I'm so sorry."

She laughs, I sort of laugh and I crawl back into the elevator to sit like a schmuck in an empty student lounge. My head hurts.

Thanks a lot Eastern Time. You really know how to show a fella' a good morning.

Forkless in Flushing

2010-01-21T14:48:00.000-08:00

Today I found myself strolling around Flushing, Queens with no planned destination and a rumbling stomach.

All of the restaurants seemed a little too authentic for me so it took a longer while than usual to find the right place and enjoy some dumplings. Finally, I found a restaurant that seemed legit without killing the budget (or the bowels) and I went in.

Food looked dope. Still, there was one small problem. Chopsticks.

Can't use the things. These one's didn't even come with the over simplified three panels of instructions printed on the wrapper.

Dumplings can indeed be eaten with the hands but everyone was watching me and I didn't want to be the savage Guilo who walked in off the street and ate like a monkey.

I, ashamed, signaled to the waiter and quietly asked him if he had any knives or forks.

He said no.

I ate with my hands.

Mad Po

2010-01-20T09:34:00.001-08:00

I'm back from Washington and being home has already been very eventful.

Yesterday I had plans to meet my buddy Daniel. We planned on greeting each other with a high-five at sixth avenue and ninth street and then go to a nearby bookstore. I rarely head over there but always enjoyed the neighborhood so I was looking forward to a nice stroll in the warm(ish) weather.

I was in a cab on 14th street when a platoon of at least fifteen cop cars zoomed past us at breakneck speeds. They were going in the same direction as us so traffic was screwed up. Once they passed, the street was closed and fifteen more cars zoomed by. The cab driver turned back and asked me:

"You sure you still wanna' go west?"

I thought about it. Was I about to enter a war zone? Probably. The answer?

"Hell yes."

We finally managed to get there and I got a call from Daniel. He said something crazy was happening at ninth and sixth. We had just arrived when an unmarked cop car swerved in front of the cab, blocking us off halfway through the street. I looked at the windows and realized that I was engulfed in chaos.

I paid the cabbie and apologized for getting him stuck in the life threatening situation and felt bad that I got to run for cover while he sat like a duck in the middle of the shit storm. The moment I got out I saw more cops in one concentrated area than I have in a long while, most armed with large assault rifles and angry German Shepherds.

A out of breath cop ran up to me and asked if I had seen an "African American man on foot." On my way over I had seen at least thirty African American men standing on feet. I hate this cop mentality that aggressively screaming a race and gender will narrow results when, in actuality, it just puts innocent people of the same race in gender in danger. The officer himself was black and I wanted to teach him a lesson and say "Yes I have, I'm talking to him right now" and teach him about other ways of describing people like, say, clothing. I didn't feel like getting shot in the face so I just said "no" and found Daniel.

I spoke to a man who had followed the scene on his bike. He said there was an intense car chase that at points went up on the sidewalk. The officers smashed his car a few feet away from my can and the man escaped.

Now hundreds of cops were walking around with dogs. Every so often the gigantic German Shepard would bark at someone in the crowd and I would get as far away from the imminent riot as possible.

Eventually the crowd dispersed and Daniel and I left. We couldn't find anything out about it then and can't now. Strange. All I do know is that it was fucking crazy.

After leaving the scene I saw Bill Hader of SNL fame. That was cool, too.

So handsome.

Mr. Gannon Goes To Washington Pt. 3

2010-01-17T17:17:00.000-08:00

Today was a rainy day in Washington but that didn't stop us from covering a damn good amount of ground and having a fun time doing it. Since I have already seen the buzzkill war memorials and patriotism inducing monuments, today was dedicated to a softer side of this town: art.

We hit up a few museums, all of which were good and worth checking out if not solely for the collections but for the buildings they are held in. We shot over to the Corcoran and I got to see one of my favorite Hopper pieces, Ground Swell, which had made it's way over to Chicago a few years ago. It's always nice to see this in person, I love Hopper and this piece is so out of his normal lens that I find myself trying to find something wrong with someone. I never can. Still, love it.

It's funny, this museum also has a school of art and design in it. My school is a museum with a school in it. This museum has two lions chilling in front of the entrance. My school has some lions chilling in front of the entrance...

Weird.

I'm not trying to start any school beef but I gotta' say: these lions are wack. The Art Institute of Chicago lions are staring off onto Michigan Avenue, bloodthirsty and ready to fuck shit up while proudly protecting all the little fartists who can't hold their own who are huddled together in the big building behind him.

The Corcoran lions? They're fucking sleeping!

You know, in retrospect I gotta' say that's a pretty cool mission statement. I'll check the place out in a few years when it's grad school time.

Things got really good when we ditched the old school stuff and went to hang out with the cool kids. That's right, my shit. We went to the Hirshhorn museum which had one really incredible floor and then a second mediocre one. It's so nice to see art with a sense of humor and this joint had a lot of it. Thank god. Of course, there was a gigantic Roy Lichtenstein sculpture in the back and a Jeff Koons piece as well. They were a surprise to me as we went in through the back door. That was a nice way to end things.

After that we went to the Freer Gallery which bleeds off of the gigantic, breathing, pulsating museum monster blob that is the Smithsonian. That place was pretty dope but not completely up my alley. There was some cool stuff but I didn't take any pictures because a scary security guard was grilling me. Usually I handle myself well in these situations and leave with the picture but I could tell that this guy would take me into the Peacock Room and bludgeon me to death with a fancy iron candle holder from the early 19th century.

He would.

After that we had some delicious grub and here I am back at the hotel room feeling pretty good. The train ride home is tomorrow so it looks like the trip is coming to an end.

How sad.

Pause. Let's talk about Haiti.

2010-01-16T23:11:00.000-08:00

I'm doing this whole "Mr. Gannon Goes To D.C." shtick and it seems to be going pretty well. I'm having fun again, the readers are slowly (actually, less slowly than expected) learning I'm posting again and I'm having fun. All is well.

Still, it's 2:13 in the morning out here in Washington and I have to break format for a minute and talk about this Haiti situation. I know it's late and I know that in the grand scheme of things I don't have much to contribute. Still, it's been eating away at me for the past few days and culminated in the last hour after watching live footage of starving civilians fighting over boxes of food. As I sat in my comfortable hotel room, sipping from a cold beer, calm from taking a hot bath, this disturbed me.

There are a few things I have to say.

About five years ago I was on a family trip much similar to the one I'm on now. We weren't in Washington but Dublin, Ireland. I remember switching the television on and seeing breaking news about hurricane Katrina. The media over there is pretty frank and made things very clear: my country was in a terrible state and a shitload of people were dying, starving and on the verge of total breakdown.

I felt powerless. Being so far away from home and having to watch part of it crumble was terrible. When 9/11 made it's rounds I was too young to do anything. To this day I think of this and bite my lip, regretful of my circumstance. I wish there was something, anything I could do. Since then I think to myself often and remind myself that if my neighbors or fellow Americans ever need my help I will do something. Still, there wasn't much I could do. I was fifteen years old and stuck in Ireland. The view from afar was good (too good) and I watched everything. All from the comfort of a hotel room.

Tonight turning on the television and seeing Haiti crumble even further evoked similar feelings. To be honest, they weren't as strong and that's simply because I am not Haitian. I don't know anyone who is and couldn't even tell you the capital of the place (at least until the past couple of days rolled by). Even so, being away from home and seeing such a gruesome scene play out was strange. Being in Washington D.C. with the intention of going on a self-indulgent, patriotic buffet made things, well, a few parts awkward with a twist of guilt.

I'm honestly not sure where this post is going. All I do know is that it's important to note a few things before it wraps up.

It's a new decade and as far as I'm concerned, a damn late one. We have been around for two thousand and a few more years than I think we should have. You make my ass a caveman and throw me out in the wilderness and I'd croak before you could say "evolve."

Essentially what I'm saying is that it's amazing we have come this far and the end isn't clearly coming tomorrow or even next year.

We live in a time that carries a great deal of responsibility. It's hard to grasp but we as people, not Americans, need to help other people not as neighbors, but as people. Nations, very slowly, are beginning to mean less and less every day. The more we communicate, the more we spread, the less meaning borders have. We each have a duty as people who have made it two thousand and ten years into the unknown to do what we can for each other and help make it another two thousand.

I'm asking you as a friend:

If you believe in god, pray.

If you are rich, donate.

If you are like me and don't know what to do, hope.

That's close to nothing, but it's better than zilch.

Be well.

Blogmaster K-Dog.

Mr. Gannon Goes To Washington Pt. 2

2010-01-16T16:59:00.000-08:00

D.C. is a fun town. Like I said in the last post, this place is pretty darn beautiful. Today we walked down to the National Mall and checked out all of the monuments that are the first things to get blown up by aliens in movies. It was my first time doing so and seeing these massive landmarks up close was wonderful. I got that warm fuzzy feeling in my belly that I get at the end of war films or when someone makes a good speech on TV or when I somehow whoop Carlos' ass at Madden 09' for the first time in months.

It was a cool day. For example:

I got to stand in the exact spot that Martin Luther King Jr. gave his famous and world changing I have a Dream speech.

I saw the White Houses' backyard which has private beehives and a nice little fountain.

The strange thing about this trip so far was the War Memorials. I fully support the construction of these and strongly believe in constantly reminding ourselves about those who have died in wars (American or not) and what we as a nation lose every time we have another one.

Still, it was upsetting (and eventually emotionally taxing) to see so many memorials in such a small space. We really do fight a lot, I know that. It's just strange to see it gobble up real estate in such a blatant way. It's a shame that 90% of the constructed monuments in this area of our capital are about things that all of us wish never happened. I'd like to see some more celebratory monuments but I guess those aren't interesting. I know that we have a lot to celebrate, now it's just a matter of pouring the cement. Am I alone on this?

The statues of exhausted soldiers in the Korean War were intense.

I didn't go to the Vietnam War Memorial (the one by Maya Lin) but instead observed it from a distance. It has been something I've been looking forward to seeing because the stories behind Maya's conception and struggles she had with that piece are amazing. Still, when it was right in front of me I got cold feet. I don't know anyone of those names and knew that some people next to me would. Something about that felt intrusive.

The reason I came out here in the first place was really because of one thing. I wanted to see the Lincoln Memorial. I think it's a beautiful, simple construction with a pretty cool dude sitting inside of it. I came all the way down here to see him and I finally got to. It was great.

I'm not big on temples or enshrining things. This was cool with me, though.

Booyah!

Finally after a big dinner and a lot of strolling around we walked past the front of the White House, lit up in all her glory. She looked good and I was pretty sure that there were people keeping their eye on me and every other spectator through the scope of a sniper rifle or some crazy counter terrorist device that knew who I was, my blogs traffic and that I was not a threat to homeland security. Creepy? Sure. American? Unfortunately, these days, yes.

Still, it felt really nice. Maybe I was swooned by the sandstone.

I Have Arrived

2010-01-15T19:59:00.000-08:00

A few hours on the train and I am finally here. The District where dreams come true and patriotism churns like butter in yer' belly.

Right off the bat I have been awed by a butt-ton of beautiful architecture. Stepping off the train it was dark so I haven't seen much except a few landmarks that were illuminated or in eye shot.

My favorite sight thus far has been the brollick dudes peering down from the Attic block in Union Station.

They are called "The Progress of Railroading" and represent fire, electricity, freedom, inspiration, agriculture and mechanics. These six figures (who are actually sculptings of Prometheus, Thales, Themis, Apollo, Ceres and Archimedes, respectively) watch over the commuters of Union Station. A reminder of how wonderful things are. A subtle prompt to stop for one moment and think about how incredible it is that our industry and lifestyle allow us to travel across borders at the drop of a hat safely, conveniently and comfortably.

Ah.

Now juxtapose that with the hot and smelly sinkhole known as Penn Station where the nicest piece of art is a Bart Simpson bust found in the shitter of a TGIF.

Let's get some marble up in that joint.

Mr. Gannon Goes To Washington

2010-01-14T19:00:00.000-08:00

Good news, folks. The unofficial winter hiatus is finally over. Why? I'm hitting the road, baby!

It all started a few weeks ago when I was still in school. Preston and I watched the Frank Capra masterpiece Mr. Smith Goes To Washington and as the fireplace roared, drink in hand, I couldn't help feel like I was missing something.

Somewhere beneath that good ol' gilded American propaganda was a strong message. I couldn't help but wonder: where do we draw the line between fanaticism and patriotism? Am I a bona fide American or a flag waving loonie? More importantly, why haven't I been to my nation's capital to visit the many monuments that tribute the rich history this land has behind her?

Well, I called my parents and told em' it was time to hit up D.C. Tickets are bought and tomorrow afternoon I'm getting on a train and commencing my patriotic vision quest.

For the first time in a long while I have something worth blogging about. Thank god, I thought I'd have to wait for the semester to kick off.

Get ready everyone. Tomorrow will kick off the first episode of Mr. Gannon Goes To Washington!

Bon Voyage!

Holiday Retrospective

2010-01-03T15:13:00.000-08:00

It's true. I wrapped up the semester and came back home tired and anxious to do nothing. To celebrate Christmas and the coming New Year with my friends and family in the city I love. That's exactly what I did. A little too well.

I haven't posted here in weeks. That stings.

So far it's been a good trip back home. I have seen my buddies, played some black jack, slept enough and spent too much money on things that cost too much money because Manhattan can get away with with charging anyone anything.

Ah. Feels like home.

Essentially, I can easily summarize my time here in New York with two pictures. It started off with french fries at an old rest stop tucked away off the Palisades...

...and ends staring out the window at a cold, snowy 14th street.

Sure, a lot has has gone down between points A and B but that doesn't mean I'm going to sit here talking about it. What matters is that right now I'm at point B and loving it. I'm back in the blogosphere and it feels good.

The holidays were fun but they are long gone. It's time to snap back to reality, wake up from the strange wintry nap I have been in and clean my eye of sleep boogers. It's time to start this year off with a bang.

I do so with this. The first post of the decade.

Post-Christmas Livin'

2009-12-26T15:40:00.000-08:00

Christmas detoxing is an important part of the process that is often overlooked. After gorging ourselves with food and unwrapping gifts like madmen, it's usually a good idea to take it easy for the next few days, slip on the slippers and chill on the couch, surfing the web or doing whatever it is you do best.

I'm up in Connecticut which I have to say is a pretty perfect place to relax. Watching TV and drinking buds I did something out of character: I started and completed a puzzle.

I have never done one before. I'm hooked. I'm about to do another. I felt like an old lady sitting there. An awesome old lady.

In other news I have acquired two of the hottest items in the world: Zhu Zhu Hamsters. I don't want them and I'm giving them away to two very special ladies. I haven't felt so powerful in my life. This is like having two tickle me Elmos or two Furbies and saying "eh....I don't care"

So, I go on record:

Eh, I don't care.

So, as I sit here trying to rebuild what I broke during yesterday's insane festivities I ask you, dear starlets: how do you re-coop after heavy Christmasing?

UPDATE:

I'm so hardcore. I finished another puzzle.

I can't stop partying but I need to slow down. If I keep this up I'll have the worst hangover tomorrow.

Ho! Ho! Ho!

2009-12-25T06:45:00.000-08:00

This Christmas has shaped up to be something pretty damn wonderful. For the first time in a long while I don't care about presents or the tree or even the food.

I came back from Chicago yearning to see as many of my friends as possible and that's what I did, putting in quality chill time with some A grade folks in an A+ town.

Riding the 6 train felt great.

Sitting at Carlos' with a beer in hand, Bella the puppy in the other felt even better.

Point is, it feels great to be home. Chicago has grown on me and the past few months I have been digging deeper and deeper into that city and I'm liking what I find. Still, coming back and seeing what's good with the city I love the most was much needed.

I might not live as decadently as the Blodgett's but this is the best Christmas I have had in a long while. Not to get sappy or anything, but seeing my pals and my home is the best gift a guy could ask for.

I haven't seen everyone yet, but trust me: I will.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Il to NY, Baby

2009-12-22T06:30:00.000-08:00

Here's the good news: Yesterday I had my last two classes of the semester which means the unofficial blog hiatus can be lifted. Today I fly back to New York and look forward to posting like a regular K-Dog and living like a champion. I can't wait.

Bad news?

I like flying out of O'Hare airport. It's one of the best I have ever seen and can't say a single bad thing about the joint. Except, from my experience, the minute a single snow flake touches the runways the entire place shuts down, resulting in me twiddling my thumbs for hours.

I don't mind this, I'd prefer safety over travel deadlines any day. Still, it's unfortunate the day I need to fly looks like this:

I might be a while, folks.

Duped!

2009-12-19T13:51:00.000-08:00

Today the company that hosts the Broke Toe Productions site let me know that the domain had fallen victim to a mean, angry hacker. All of the files are still online and no information has been lost but aesthetically it's seen better days.

Take a look:

It's strange. These baddies didn't remove any files, didn't secretly upload anything in hopes of free storage space and left everything else alone. All they did was delete my hard work. They gained nothing other than happiness from my misery. Because of this, it is safe to conclude that the attack was done out of maliciousness against me or someone in Broke Toe.

I thought about it all day. Who? Why? I piss a lot of people off, sure, but nothing like this. Someone is very angry and I can't think of who it could be.

That's when it hit me. The Broke Toe Site gets no traffic. We don't plug it anymore, I don't talk about it with anyone and it isn't linked on any of my regularly used outlets (like this blog). The only pace that links to the site that time forgot is Youtube.

Who is on Youtube that hates me? Who is on Youtube that let me know at least once every two days that I am a moron and deserve to die? Who floods my inbox with blank emails and hate mail in hopes I will shut down the account?

Well, I don't want to say anyone specifically. Why? Because I do not have enough information to be 100% certain that the people I think did this are actually the ones who did.

Otherwise, I would be a conspiracy theorist. Nobody likes them. Right?

Hint. Hint.

Time Warp

2009-12-17T04:38:00.000-08:00

My sleep cycle has been so screwed up in the past week or so but today something very strange happened. Two of my buddies came over, we ordered Pizza and watched the Day of the Triffids mini-series from way back when. They left at 9 and I closed my eyes for a minute.

When I say "I closed my eyes for a minute" I mean it. There on the futon I decided to relax for a few seconds, eyes closed. A minute turned into an hour. Fine. I took a nap.

I got up and went to the kitchen. That's when I saw the clock and nearly fainted.

6:00 A.M.

Wow. Some hour.

More Dust

2009-12-15T22:30:00.000-08:00

Today was my photo critique and things went pretty damn well. Now that I got responses to this series I feel good sharing the rest with you.

I might re-do this in a studio next semester and really get it right. We'll see.

Dusty

2009-12-12T22:07:00.000-08:00

Tonight I worked on a project I have been wanting to do for a long while. It's not as successful as I'd like it to be so I hope when I get critiqued on this series people give me some good advice. Long story short: I had to get pretty messy.

The idea came to me a few months ago when I read that a lot of New Yorkers still have little dust particles from 9/11 stuck to the sides of their lungs. It's really no big deal, we have a lot of shit in our lungs, especially those of us who live in urban environments. Still, the idea of carrying pieces of The World Trade Center with us physically has some serious parallels to our emotional luggage.

Right now it's about 15 photos of individuals doing normal, everyday tasks while completely covered in dust, dried blood and soot.

I'm going to wait until I get a crituqe on these suckers before sharing them with you.

Putting that shit on myself was strange. When I first looked in the mirror I froze for a few minutes and felt very odd. It felt disgusting. It made me realize how lucky I was to be safe on that day. It also made me realize how horrible people must have felt after getting home and standing in the shower for a few hours trying to get cement out of their hair while still thinking about what happened.

Yeesh.

Corn Cob Of Shit

2009-12-11T16:28:00.001-08:00

My Zines have been printed and they look beautiful, sleek and sexy.

I got 50 of the things and they turned out exactly how I wanted. They are pretty fucking funny and I can't wait till' people read them.

Each is numbered because that's what artists do. Some will be sold at Quimby's Bookstore and the rest will be given out to my closest bros and bras.

Morning Motivation

2009-12-10T08:31:00.001-08:00

I don't want to sound like a broken record but I'm going to anyway: I have a lot of work this week.

This country has a rich history of young men valiantly marching directly into the mouths of madness in the hopes of a greater good. During World War II there was D-Day. During the Civil Rights Movement, young men and women defied mob rule and sat non-violently at a "whites only" diner counter. During the American Revolution, Washington crossed the icy Delaware River with courageous elegance. During critique week, I had a big fucking to-do list.

Today was the day to do it.

I'll break it down for you:

1. Drop off/pick up zines from printer

2. Go to loop, rent camera

3. Buy a few pounds of powdered cement (don't ask...)

4. Prep-order shipment of 50 buttons

5. Finishing touches on a short story

There was no room to slack off on this daunting day. I prepared myself for it last night and went over to my buddies house to ask for some artistic advice.

Long story short, I ended up crashing there. The night before last I slept for 15 hours and that really screwed me up. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn't get a single wink of sleep. Staring at my friend's ceiling, twiddling my thumbs, the night slowly inched onward. I knew I needed every minute of sleep I could get but I knew even better I wasn't going to get it. The moment sunlight hit the streets of Chicago, I packed my shit up and left. 6:00A.M.

IT'S SO COLD. I can't stop shivering and my hands are numbing up disturbingly fast. The wind is so strong at one point that I had to stop walking. The ground was slick with ice and putting all my weight on one foot risked me slamming my head onto the concrete. As I took this photo I was literally being pushed backwards.

I was tired. I was fucked.

I knew I needed a big boost if I was going to get through the day on no sleep. I decided to go to Jewel Osco, stock up on a huge breakfast and promptly go home and cook it. I needed carbs, protein, caffeine and a little bit of sugar to keep myself going for the rest of the day.

On the way to Jewel, I slipped in the parking lot and landed in a puddle.

I, filthy, cold and wet, crawled into the supermarket. They had been open for twenty minutes and the place was completely empty. I can't tell you how strange it was strolling around the gigantic market, no elevator music playing, no people walking around pushing carts, just the sounds of my boots squeaking on the floor.

It was very creepy.

I got the hell out of there with my grub and ran home to start cooking. It was early and I felt like shit. I needed this bad.

Standing over the gigantic meal on the stove, something came over me. I wasn't scared about working all day. I knew I would get it done. I knew the breakfast would work. Today was my fucking day. In fact, cooking that meal, I realized something. Today was going to be the best day of my life.

I'm not kidding, folks. I was 100% ready to take on the responsibilities I have as an artist, student and K-Dog with conviction and excitement. Because this should have been my worst day and I was going to rock it, it really was going to be the best day of my life. I couldn't believe it.

I sat down with my power meal and watched an episode of Law and Order: SVU like any other care-free day. When it was over I intended to take on the world.

Breakfast of the Champion (me):

Three Sausages

A Shitload of Home Fries

Scrambled Eggs with Cheese and a Few Seasonings

One Five Hour Energy Shot

One Cup of Earl Grey

Good to go.

I ate, I threw on my jacket and I walked out of the house. That's when it hit me.

I was wearing my slippers.

O.K, the power-food and energy drink didn't kick in yet. I went inside, put on my shoes and walked out again.

That's when something else hit me and I threw up in the middle of the fucking street.

Moral of this long, long story, folks?

NO FOOD, NO ENERGY DRINK, NO MENTAL PREPARATION CAN REPLACE SLEEP!

I'm screwed....

Disturbing Facts

2009-12-09T17:26:00.000-08:00

I have posted once in the past five days but ordered Dominos' pizza three times.

That's disgusting. When work hits you this hard, desperate measures must be taken.

That is all. I can't wait to be back in web-o-world. Till' then, listen to a radio show. ---->

New Zine

2009-12-06T00:08:00.000-08:00

Holy cow am I busy. So busy that this blog seems to have gone on a unofficial hiatus. I have a lot of shit to do for a lot of classes but in two weeks I'll be free as a bird flying around the island of Manhattan.

Tonight I'm working on a new Zine. The idea behind this one is to, essentially, write my four most horrifyingly embarrassing stories and make them public. It's pretty fucking funny and I think it's going to work out pretty well. I'll share the cover with you folks:

The title makes sense once you read it, I promise. Tomorrow I drop her off to get printed and I should be sitting on 50 copies in two days. I'll sell some at Quimby's for let's say, seventy five cents. The rest go to folks like you (if you want em').

Is Blogger Trying To Tell Me Something?

2009-12-03T14:18:00.001-08:00

I was leaving a comment on brother blogger Ezra's site and the word verification shocked me a little bit.

Yeesh.

Thanksgiving Radio Fail

2009-11-30T22:51:00.000-08:00

Wow. I feel like I have been gone for months. Has it been that long?

Obviously things got pretty busy in the past couple of days. Thanksgiving had me munching on grub back in the home state and Miller High Life had me too tired to touch a keyboard for most of the trip.

A few friends were supposed to come over but the plans fell through which meant the days prior to turkey eating (we celebrate late) were very boring. I didn't really know what to do so at one point I found myself recording a radio show. The "Kevin Gannon Back To Basics Thanksgiving Special" or "KGBBTS" as I liked to call it. It was nice to be sitting in the third floor bedroom of Connecticut all alone at night, sipping on a beer and talking into the microphone. It had been so long since I had a solo format and it was a lot harder than I remembered.

Needless to say, I have three godawful radio shows. I have never listened to an episode and thought it was so bad that I didn't post it. Either my standards are getting higher or my radio is getting worst.

On the third night I got about 15 minutes into one and literally, had to stop recording. It was a failure. It's still fun to listen to and I felt like I should share my first and (hopefully last) radio fail with you all. It's better than nothing and honestly folks, right now, I got nothing. Hit the link to listen.

WARNING: Only attempt listening to this unless incredibly bored.

Also, if you are a n00b and want to enjoy a real show click on any of the beautiful pictures to the right. I suggest "The Camp Out Special", "The Reunion Special" or (the crowd favorite) "Cooking With Kevin and Ludwig".

Most Expensive Post

2009-11-25T18:38:00.000-08:00

I am writing the most expensive post in history of my two years writing this blog. If you note the post written a few hours before this one you will realize that right now I am thirty thousand feet in the air.

Amazingly, there there is Wifi available on this flight. The Internet is totally accessible and pretty damn fast. I'm shocked, actually.

This technological breakthrough comes at a cost, though. For 24 hours of internets (which is crazy because it's a 2 hour flight) I had to pay $7.99.

Ouch.

Still, I'm about to hit "publish post" and I must say the feeling is so cool that this was worth it.

Bon Voyage

2009-11-25T13:32:00.000-08:00

Today at 7:50 I'll be sitting in a cramped American Airlines seat being projected through the sky at hundreds of miles per hour, thousands of feet up off the ground all while safely and comfortably (sort of) listening to my iPod.

I'll be in Connecticut for our traditional "Thanksgiving Saturday" feast. Hopefully a few of my buddies will tag along.

As usual, I dressed up nicely (suit, tie, dress shoes) because I find every time I fly and dress up I get treated better by 90% of the people I encounter.

My flight isn't for hours but I'm crazy and must get there hours early so in 30 minutes I'll be hoping on the blue line to start my adventure home.

Until then, I wish you all a happy thanksgiving. Peace!

Vanitas? Check.

2009-11-24T10:46:00.000-08:00

After the shower photos were received well by my class (which was a first. For the entire semester I was putting up shit on the walls, it was looking grim...) I was assigned a project by the professors based on my work thus far.

The conclusion we came to was something vaguely along these lines: I sucked at still life photography. I rocked at self posed scenes. How about I do both?

The assignment I was given was to take a photograph of a Vanitas still life while including myself in the frame. This concept challenged me immediately, which was exciting. After doing some thought I came to a simple, funny solution.

In most Vanitas paintings there is a skull or two staring out of frame. I figured rather than have a skull how about having my own head on a table? Then, instead of fruits and feathers and shit, how about fluorescent toys and trinkets? Sounds perfect. Too perfect.

For the life of me, I couldn't get it to work. Tables fell over, you could see the slit of the cloth I was sticking my head through and the shutter of the camera would go off too soon. This image, in variation, is what I got. I could never get my head through so it instead looked like a crowning baby with a full set of hair:

Defeat. Long story short, I was fucked. No idea, no time and no motivation. I sat on the futon staring into space and said out loud:

"Fuck Vanitas. Who gives a shit?"

And that's when it hit me. How funny would a photo be of some dumbass, schmuck of an art student who made a shitty Vanitas out of crap laying around his apartment? Even better, what if we could see him celebrating the fact he just created an arrangement that (in theory) allowed him to acknowledge, accept and celebrate his own demise? Celebrating by, let's say, getting drunk in his underwear while watching TV?

Perfect.

I'm so proud of the humor in these. From the sticker on the orange to the fish tank skull, it seeps of "last minute art school" and has a real, bonified fartist in action.

I Still Can't Shake the Taste

2009-11-22T17:33:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I got home from class, sat by the fireplace and got ready to watch some Law and Order: SVU. As I had the remote in my hand I thought to myself "Don't I have something to do?"

I stared at the blank television screen for a long while. I racked my mind but couldn't think of anything. I shrugged it off figuring it was just "one of those days" and dove into the world of the dedicated detectives who investigate vicious felonies.

A few hours later I hit the sack. That's when a realization hit me harder: I had to take some photos for my midterm next week.

Damn.

Point is, tonight I have a butt load of work to do. I needed a college approved boost of some sort so I took a stroll to the drug store.

Monster Energy Drink. Sure, that shit works. Everyone drinks it, I have had it before and ran up the walls while writing twelve page papers. Perfect. Too bad it tastes like shit. At least, I thought it tasted like shit. Then I saw the new "Mean Bean Mocha" energy drink. That's more like it.

Paid my three dollars, took this baby home, cracked her open and took a sip. HOLY SHIT.

Of all the commercial products I have ever consumed in my entire life, this is the absolute worst that has touched my taste buds. It is so horrible, so wretched, that I cannot find the words to describe the misery induced after swallowing a gulp of such trash.

The taste was so bad, in fact, that it was worth stopping everything I was doing to get this message out to you. I insist, go to the store and buy a can of this. I want you to experience the horrors that until now I didn't know could exist in the back of a deli.

Jesus. I'm going to vomit.

The Virus and The Damage Done

2009-11-22T00:29:00.000-08:00

This whole swine flu thing has really taken our way of life and flipped it on it's side. I feel like a pretty big asshole complaining about the situation because I'm not the one who is going through horrible pain and discomfort.

Still, the past few days have been weird. Aside from having to watch my friend deteriorate on our futon, knowing that one wrong move could make me wind up like him scared the shit out of me. I watched what I touched and where I stepped. I hand sanitized skin off of my sensitive hands. I looked at sections of my own home and said:

"You cannot go there, Kevin.

That place is contaminated."

Very strange stuff. What was the most noticeable effect of this virus? Oh, boy. Step into my kitchen.

I talked to a pharmacist and he told me to be extra careful around the bathroom and the kitchen. He told me that dishes and sink faucets are a very easy way to get infected, especially if it's a roommate situation. This man doesn't know it but he may have saved my life but also ruined it: essentially, this means that Preston and I have been treating the kitchen like a war zone until he gets better and it's safe to do the dishes. The whole house is beautifully clean right now (as usual), but Jesus Christ. Look at that.

All of this drama aside, Preston is starting to make a good recovery. I feel like a million bucks and I'm glad my partner in crime is getting back up on his feet. It's upsetting to see an amigo down for the count. What's more upsetting? Not being able to high five him when he single handedly clears a room of thirty terrorist on "hard" playing Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six Vegas: 2. That's no way to live.

The kicker? The beautiful, full circle ending every blogger yearns for? For the first time I feel comfortable retiring the mask. Good riddance, baby.

Also, the pig says "Hey"

Fashionistas?

2009-11-21T07:10:00.000-08:00

I have an idea for a photo shoot (luckily, I have decided to do it on my own time so there are no deadlines) involving my Corporate Camouflage I made a few weeks back.

Problem is, one element of the piece will require a great deal of collaboration. You see, I intend on getting that camouflage printed onto a few yards of fabric and then getting someone to sew together a military uniform of perfect detail out of it. Something like this:

I don't want to get into the specifics because I think it's actually a really solid idea and don't want it out there until I'm hanging a gigantic print on the wall.

I'm a schmuck with a sewing machine and have no idea how much time this would take and if it's even a reasonable thing to ask of someone. I would pay the individual unless they refuse, which, in this economy, I doubt will happen.

While that works itself out I'm figuring the money out. This project (unlike most I usually make) will actually require a bit of cash. Yeesh. Making Art Farts can be expensive.

I'm trying to hit up the fashion department kids at my school. Are you one? Do you know many? If so, please let me know.

This Machine Kills Swine

2009-11-19T19:59:00.000-08:00

My roommate and friend is sick with what the doctors believe is the notorious Swine Flu. The poor guy is a mess, huddled up in blankets trying to get some work done.

I'm taking some OD precautions like wearing a mask around the house and vowing to never touch my eyes or mouth. I can't afford to get sick in the coming weeks, I have too much work and too many plans and losing any time would cost me dearly. More importantly, I wouldn't get caught dead with a dirty person's disease.

Ludwig Did My Job Tonight

2009-11-17T15:48:00.000-08:00

I had something in mind worth posting but Ludwig's entry tonight on his blog was funnier so I quit.

Before school started me and a few of the brothers kicked it at Luddie's place. We were partying pretty hardy and the night for us had been going on for a long, long while. Near the end of it all Ludwig started strumming the guitar and we had a little sing along.

The best track was our rendition of "All Star" by Smash Mouth and I think the intro to this is so fucking funny and (despite it's comic genius) 100% unscripted.

Enjoy.

P.S.

Tell Ludwig Kevin sent you in his comments. Let's teach the kid a lesson.

I'm getting old

2009-11-16T14:26:00.000-08:00

Pushing twenty years on this earth, my fast paced lifestyle is beginning to catch up to me. Father time has opened up my records and declared that I have been in my prime far too long. He has wrought a sinister plan for me to partake in, one that every man and woman too must eventually face. He has laid a road for me to walk down (or, eventually, hobble down) and it says "AGE...NO EXIT"

I'm getting old, folks. The grim reaper isn't looming or anything but I have noticed a few things that have been happening to me and when they do I say to myself "it's happening". What's scary is it is going to continue happening for a very long while.

You think I'm crazy? I think not. I think I'm observational. Take the following points as proof:

1. My Bladder is That of an Old Man's

Most old people I know frequently make pit stops to the restroom. I never understood why they have to piss so much. For a long while I thought most of the world over forty had secret drinking problems. Now, more realistically, I can safely say it is their own bladders giving way. Folks, when I'm in class I expect to drop by the little boys room at least three times before the day is up. That's super annoying for me considering public restrooms are the bane of my existence, but that's going to be saved for another post.

2. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

I'm sleepy, goddamnit! I remember back in the day when I was a young lad I could easily stay up until 5 working, take a two hour power nap, wake up and then take on the world. Two hours of sleep now? Forget it. Six? HA! I need at least seven to be a functioning human being. It's sad.

3. Taste.

In recent weeks I have found myself eating greens during lunch. I'm not referring to Jolly Ranchers, I'm talking straight up greens composed of whatever it is the earth spits up when it's in a good mood. I have gone my entire life hating salad and all things that mildly resembled it. Somehow after my taste buds have begun to atrophy I get hungry for a salad. Can you believe that? Pathetic. What's next, Ensure and jello?

4. Art

This one is a doozey. If you were to come up to me three years ago and say "Kevin what sort of artists do you like?" I would have told you Jeff Koons, Damien Hirst, Joe Coleman, Bruce Nauman and other loonies raking in that contemporary cheddar. I wouldn't be caught dead in any museum that didn't have "Modern" in it's name and I hated painting. Now? Jacques-Louis David, Edward Hopper, Grant Wood and sometimes, dare I say it, Jean Baptiste Chardin. Still life? How fucking boring.

5. Attitude

When I see a bunch of kids sitting around doing nothing I think to myself "Look at those fucking hooligans, sitting around doing nothing. They don't know what life is like. They don't know what they need to be getting ready for. I worry for the future of this country..." which is silly, because they are usually a year younger than me and I'm usually sitting around doing nothing. I wonder if they are looking at me thinking: "Look at that old, bastard. He suxx :p lolz"

Here is where I ask the question to make myself feel better. What about you people? Are you getting older? Do you feel like the next stop is a lazy boy by the fire place, glass of whiskey in hand, loyal dog keeping your feet warm and an empty shotgun by your side to scare punks off of your porch? If so, please let me know.

WHAT?

2009-11-15T21:19:00.000-08:00

I'm over the Bacon Weave. I thought that I had made and eaten the greatest dish man could fathom. That is until I came across this:

Yes. You read right. PASTRAMI CHICKEN WINGS. Are you kidding me? Have I died and went to heaven?

I know what I'm making for dinner tomorrow night.

Good Weekend

2009-11-15T20:46:00.000-08:00

For some reason everyone's friends were in town this weekend. That meant I got to chill with some new faces and some familiar ones I haven't seen in too long.

All in all, I had a blast for the past couple of days. A lot of people walked in and out of the living room, many a drinks were poured and everyone seemed to have a good time.

To all those I encountered in the past two days, it was nice to meet you or see you again.

Now, back to work. Hopefully things will pick up and this blog will be worthy of writing again. As I have mentioned earlier, things are slow.

Fact or Fiction?

2009-11-14T11:20:00.000-08:00

There really hasn't been much to post about recently and you all know my philosophy: if it feels forced, don't force it.

That philosophy is swell and fine until you have a few days in a row with nothing posted. I like Cop Killer, I really do, but I don't like it enough to see it every time I load this page.

Most of my classes are taking it easy considering we just had our midterms. That means I haven't churned anything out worth talking about. I have, however, began looking at classes and found one that really interests me.

It's a video studio called "Bordering Fiction" that explores documentary and television blurring the line between reality and falsehoods. This sounds simple, but it's sort of a calling for me. You see over the past few years I have began forming in my head what sort of films I want to make. It is the sort of film I did make. Remember these?

Hell, in a strange way, even the gun reviews do it. I know that this is usually referred to as a "Mockumentary Film" but I don't like that term. For one reason, it's not mocking documentary style. It is documentary style. I would love to make a film that perfectly replicates how a factual documentary would be shot. Flawlessly. Another reason I don't like that is it seems goofy. What if I want to do this about something serious? Something heavy? Would that be accepted as OK like these two films are or is that just packaging a lie as something else to cut corners? Who knows.

About a year ago this thought was kicking around my head. I was starting my first year at Fart School and thoughts like this were encouraged. It was a great environment to ask myself: how could I do that without having to make a documentary?

I have never been good at directing actors. It's not something I want to do and couldn't if I tried (ask anyone who was on the set of our last film). A few films ago, however, something clicked. Thinking about that blur between what was happening in the film and what was happening in real life, I would ask actors questions that were (in a basic way) relevant in their own life and the life of their characters.

When they were deep in the conversation, I'd call action and they would have to turn on whatever character they were acting immediately. It works beautifully. It takes skill on both ends but I think it works out very well. It's not a new idea but I had never tried it. It worked well.

Point is, this class should help me formulate exactly what to call this. Point me in the direction of other artists who do this better. It should allow me to practice this some more until I really get it down. I cannot wait.

Cop Killer

2009-11-12T15:18:00.001-08:00

Am I the only person who didn't know Ice-T was in a west coast punk band?

Falling in the Shower

2009-11-11T06:53:00.000-08:00

I got a really good critique on the photos I mentioned in my last post. So good, in fact, that some of them didn't even need exposed weenies to effect the viewer. That's good for you because it means a) you don't have to see my exposed weenie and b) you get to see them.

Like every good art student I did a reversed reference to David's Death of Marat. How Neo-Neo Classic:

This was a fun shoot and it's the first time I have put something up on the wall during a crit that I didn't think was garbage. Essentially, what we talked about in class is that there are two types of photographers: hunters and farmers.

I am not a hunter. I grow my own shit. Still, I have a hunter mentality that kicks in by storing images in my head through experience, film, literature and other art. It's good stuff and it's a huge breakthrough. I always looked at photographers (at least in the art world) as hunters and said to myself "That's no place for me"

Boy was I wrong. I loved doing this. It's not a new idea to be a farmer but to me it is. I can't wait to plant some more crops.

Cut my foot!

2009-11-09T23:37:00.000-08:00

I cut myself while in the shower. It was horrible.

Just kidding. I had a photo shoot where I had to enact one of my worst fears. I chose falling in the shower and hitting my head as the water washes away blood until there is none left. The photos came out dope and I'd post them but I can't. Why?

Dey got Kevin weenies in em'

I'm cool with showing my schlong to a group of fellow artists in a critique environment. Sharing my schlong with the internet?

Sorry, folks.

Puke-Fest 2009

2009-11-09T15:53:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning I woke up feeling funny. My friend Monty came by and after chilling with him for a bit I started to get horrible stomach cramps. Soon a headache came along with a very high fever. Then, I threw up.

Then I drank some water and threw up some more.

Then I drank some more water and threw that up also.

Then I drank some water and Pedialyte (so I wouldn't die of dehydration) and threw that up too.

All in all, throughout the day, I threw up six or seven times. More interestingly, in retrospect I realize now that I was delusional (probably from the fever). At one point I remember covering myself with blankets and saying

"This is our land now, Kevin.

It's warm here. We own it."

over and over again. I actually thought I was going to die. Ask Preston, we talked about it.

I'm OK now, though. Except for the fact that I lost a full 24 hours of work during what has been my most busy week this semester. Balls.

Dislike Button?

2009-11-07T12:34:00.000-08:00

Already, you shudder. I don't even need to explain what is going on. If you have a Facebook account you have noticed the "WE DEMAND A DISLIKE BUTTON! 2 MILLION MEMBERS TO GO! JOIN NOW! ASAP! LET'S DO IT YEAAAH!" groups popping up allover the place. I think we have all pretty much grown immune to stupid Facebook things like this but still, I can't help but make a few observations...

When this all first started, some schmucks were under the impression that Facebook was a democracy and that if 1,000,000 people joined a group, Facebook would be forced to meet their demands. Every day afterwords new groups would pop up increasing the number needed to convince Facebook to add the button. Today I logged in and saw a new group:

"IF SEVEN MILLION PEOPLE

JOIN THIS GROUP WE

WILL GET A DISLIKE BUTTON!"

Seven million fucking people? Are you kidding me? Did I miss something? All for a Dislike button? Holy shit, folks. This is incredible.

I decided to check out what some of these people were saying in the forums. I have never seen such an angry group on Facebook (with the exception of Mafia Wars which threatened I join today or It'd kill me). Reading these comments you would think that something serious was going on. Nope, not actually. It's just hysteria on Facebook.

Take Donya, for example. She's a bright girl and she understands why Facebook isn't too anxious to have a "dislike" button. She thinks it will be abused by people and create tension between users. Still, what about those who would use it properly?

It's a valid point. People need a way to "SHOW THT THY DONT RLY LIKE SOMTHING". What a conundrum.

Some people are just being ridiculous and proving that once you give somebody something they want more and more.

Jeffrey, come on. Do you also want a sack of money, asshole?

My favorite comment of them all came from Aisha. It's simple, it's clear and it gets the point across nicely:

She should look into politics.

This is all fun and games until I saw the most upsetting thing of all. A young lady suggesting each member of each group donating $1 and coming up with millions which they could then give to Facebook in exchange for a Dislike button.

Isn't that what you would do too? If I had millions I would most certainly give them to a website that I probably won't be using in two years.

In all honesty, actually, if I had the money I would do everything but give the money to Facebook. That wouldn't even be an option that crossed my mind. I would buy a car and drive it into a pool of Cottage cheese before I gave my cash to Facebook.

Zoe, I totally agree. Let's do that. Just tell everyone to make the donations to Kevin Gannon's paypal account.

Sleep Paralysis

2009-11-05T12:12:00.000-08:00

In one of my classes I'm working on a group project about sleep. Some members were mentioning sleep paralysis which sounded completely insane to me. If you don't know what it is imagine waking up in the middle of the night completely paralyzed. Physically you cannot move but you are 100% mentally cohesive. Many people say that the feeling is accompanied by an evil presence, that a demon is in the room or some shit. Whatever it is, it has been happening to people for thousands of years all across the world.

This strange happening was famously depicted by Henry Fuseli in his 1718 work "The Nightmare"

Imagine being like that woman. Fully competent but totally un-able to smack the shit out of a little monster sitting on your hips. That is what sleep paralysis is like. What do I think about it?

If it happens to so many people it must be real. Are actual demons visiting us and sitting on our fucking chests? No way, Jose. Why? Demons do not exist, dreams do. I don't know what it is but I'm sure it's unpleasant and a serious pain in the ass. I was happy to say I had no idea what it was like until last night.

I was sleeping and I woke up. Everything was red and the dream I was just in, someone was saying "Kevin be careful, it's right there"

I couldn't move. For some reason I repeated under my breath over and over again "I see it, I see it" and was looking at a gigantic, hairy lump nestled between me and the wall. I was still. I remember being absolutely terrified. I said to myself:

"Who allows cats to roam free in other

people's homes?"

and this unheard, unseen voice answered in my head:

"It's not a cat. It is NOT

a cat"

People, I was having a dialogue with someone who didn't exist. I was having that conversation telepathically all while a demon slept right next to me. This went on for at least five minutes. It was the scariest shit I have ever experienced.

Finally I slowly slipped out from the blankets and turned the light on. At this point, I came to my senses. I knew there wasn't a monster but for some reason I had to turn on the lights. It was really strange. The bed was empty and I sat on it, did some breathing and fell asleep again.

Crazy, right?

a2 + b2 = The Ladies LOVE me

2009-11-04T18:12:00.000-08:00

When I'm in New York I think like a New Yorker. That means I spend a little too much time in the morning picking out what I'm going to wear. I take pride in dressing nicely and over the years it has paid off. When I'm living in Chicago, however, things are totally different. Being a college student while simultaneously dealing with the coldest weather my soft Irish skin has ever felt results in me dressing like a slob. A warm slob, but a slob nonetheless. It doesn't matter, though, because when it's cold everyone looks like they are dressing to do one thing: survive.

Today's attire resulted from a fatal blow of circumstance. It was cold and I had no clean clothing. I dug into the back of my closet and found a mysterious hat that I keep for emergencies. It has "GCC" written in huge letters across my forehead. I have NO idea what "GCC" stands for but if anyone asks I say it's the name of my company: "Good Chocolate Candies" then offer them some "home made" M&Ms.

Googling "GCC" didn't help at all because it's an acronym used by 18,600,000 different groups.

Where is this story going? Well, something magical happens when I put this hat on. For a reason unknown to me women from all walks of life fall in love with me.

Yes. You heard me and no, the hat is not for sale.

I learned this little secret today. Instantly upon walking out of the house I got the eye from numerous young ladies. I had no idea what was going on. I checked my fly and it was tightly zipped. After that my mind couldn't fathom what prompted this attention. I took the hat off and it stopped. I put it on and it came back. After realizing this I left the hat on and I'm still wearing it.

I don't want to get into specifics but today I had many lovely encounters with beautiful women on the street. I was thinking about it all when the allure of the hat reached it's zenith.

I was riding the Blue Line home, leaning up against the door. There is a partition between the doors and seats on each side and I was snuggled up in the corner of that and the door itself. There were three beautiful women on the train. This is where things get complicated. I decided to mock up a rough rendering of the scenario:

Notice the three women (which, by the way, accurately depict hair color). Each one of them was constantly giving me the eye. I would catch them and they would look away which is standard train riding procedure. Each was staring at me non-stop. I thought about this:

This configuration has never occurred before. It should be reserved for Kings because it felt incredible. I self titled the anomaly as the "Z" formation. If it ever happens again I can die a happy man. The woman nearest to me was staring at the woman furthest from me staring at me, thus reacting and then staring at me too. That is a two degree stare. That is amazing.

The pheromonal energy I was feeling was off the charts and it was unlike anything I had experienced before. Something was up with these ladies. That's when I resorted to the sciences.

I had a very good math tutor in high school. He tortured me for two hours a week. I thought that by going to a fancy schamncy art school I had escaped the wrath of math but I was wrong. Standing on this train the woman nearest to me smiled, giggled and looked away. That's when it dawned on me...

I was standing in an Isosceles triangle of love. The math started running through my head. On any isosceles there are two like angles. Let's replace "degrees" with "love" for the time being. Through a wink and giggle, Woman #3 (A.K.A angle "B") clearly loved me. That would mean that Woman #2 would also have to love me. The third woman? Well, she's 180 minus whatever Angle A and Angle B's collective love add up to. Fuck that, what's she want from a man? How unrealistic.

What does this all mean? Two out of three. Two out of three ain't bad. Not bad at all.

My math tutor was too good

The women were actually laughing at me because I was dressed like an asshole and this post proves I'm delusional.

You decide. Lord knows I have.

Smashed Up Shit

2009-11-04T06:53:00.000-08:00

There aren't many things I love more in life than my gadgets and gizmos. From the Roku playing on the HD to my cellphone snuggling next to my ipod in my jacket pocket: these things get my rocks off.

Since these little guys are so imprtant to me I go out of my way to take good care of them. Still, somehow, when I empty my pockets most of my shit is fucked up.

My phone fell the other day. I was doing something stupid (swinging it an inch above the ground by it's chord like a pendulum) and it fell. It fell, maybe, four inches (tops) and still somehow got totally and utterly fucked up. I have been talking on this thing and dropped it down cement stairs and zilch has happened. Now she falls a few inches onto a carpet and breaks? Bullshit.

Next to my iPod Touch with a smashed screen and my laptop with hundreds of dead pixels, dents and white spots I'm really in a dark place.

Japanese Bug Fights

2009-11-02T20:46:00.001-08:00

A long while ago Preston and I stumbled across one of the greatest internet gems either of us had ever seen. Essentially, some Japanese dudes buy very exotic bugs and makes them fight to the death. The whole thing is documented, narrated and there are animated sequences in-between rounds with a centour announcing the winner. It's amazing.

Here is one of my favorites: "Round The 25th". It mixes things up a bit because rather than having the creepy crawlers go on until one dies, it has them battling for balance on a log as if they are sumo wrestlers.

I have been keeping this secret until now. Don't spread the word to too many people, things aren't cool when they become popular (like Smashmouth in high school).

Check it out HERE

Deep Sleepin'

2009-11-01T20:21:00.000-08:00

I suck at sleeping. When I lay my head down to get a good nights rest I can't help but think about the things that stress me out during the day. I think about fighting bullies from my past, telling off assholes I encountered on the train or saving the world from a terrorist attack. Essentially, when I'm finally supposed to turn off and rest my brain decides to work extra hard. It sucks.

I tried everything and gave up hope. I was looking for advice online (again) and I decided to try white noise. I listened to the white noise machines that were the most recommended. I didn't like how they sounded and decided to ditch the idea. Instead, I downloaded a "Relaxation Track" from iTunes. It's of a soft rain storm with occasional distant thunder. Turned it into an hour long play list, cranked the speaker and before I go to sleep I have them streaming wirelessly from across the room.

Has it worked?

Holy shit, yes. I have been getting the best sleep of my life for the past few days. I fall asleep faster, I wake up less and I have wonderfully pleasant dreams. It's amazing. In all honesty, it's one of the best things I have done for myself in a long while. I had a picture taken of me last night in the middle of my slumbers. I look so beautiful, so at peace and so rejuvenated:

If you have trouble sleeping too, I would suggest picking a sound you find relaxing and doing this. It might help.

It's Back

2009-10-31T10:25:00.000-07:00

Guess what I woke up with this morning? Did you guess hives and swollen lips? If so, you win. You are also strange.

I know that in the past few months I have gotten a bunch of new readers who might not know about this mysterious and disgusting medical condition I have. To clarify things I'll briefly explain it. To those of you who have heard me ramble about this hundreds of times or seen it first hand, feel free to skip ahead.

A few years ago I got reamed by probability and contracted Mono and Lyme Disease at the same time. As Elaine puts it in Seinfeld, "It's like Epstein-Bar but with a twist of Lyme". Replace "Epstein-Bar" with "Mono" and you have a perfect description of what I had.

The ordeal completely destroyed my immune system. I started to get hives and swollen lips all the time. Eventually it just became heat induced (take showers for example) which still puzzles me and doctors equally to this day.

After doing some medical testing the general assumption was that I have an immune deficiency that results in Idiopathic Urticaria. Don't bother Googling that, it means "Un-explainable hives" and it's disgusting. I get them because my immune system is allergic to itself. In other words, I take self loathing to a whole new level. I used to be creeped out and ashamed by it but now I don't really care. In fact, I made some good art out of it last year. Fun times.

Point is, I have been getting better and better. In fact, for the past few months it's rare I see a hive at all. The lips? Forget about it! I haven't looked like Stephen Tyler in over a year, maybe two. The illness had just become manageable and I went to the allergists office for hours this week essentially verifying that. Major score.

Of course, things can't be too easy for your pal, Kevin. The day after I spend my entire morning at the Doctor's I woke up with huge, swollen lips.

It happened again today. Worst. I have a critique and intended on wearing my Star Trek outfit. I didn't want to look like a total freak so I took an antihistamine and iced it.

From 5:00 in the morning to 7:30 I sat in my living room sucking on an ice pack. Go do that, if you are like me you will be shocked at how much fucking hurts.

My thoughts on this? I am trying to put it together but can't. All I can say is:

Fuck,

Shit,

Goddamnit,

Ohmyfuckinggodshitdamnitthissucks

Really pissed me off. Let's see what tomorrow morning is like. That could make or break me.

The Most Dangerous Banner Ever

2009-10-30T11:09:00.000-07:00

A few years ago where Allen Street meets Houston American Apparel (which had a store around the corner) used to toss up the most sexually explicit ads ever on a gigantic banner. It was fail safe and for a few years the ads would be notorious amongst my group of friends. What do you expect? We were teenage boys with hormones spilling out of our nostrils like nosebleeds.

The thing was, every time they would put a new girl up we would all say "O.K, I know I said this last time but this is it. They will never top this. They will give up" and almost always, a few months later, they would put up an image of a less clad, more attractive woman. Here is an example.

They did actually drop the ball once by putting up the famous Woody Allen poster. It was a major fail in all elements. They lost money and we lost hope. I love Woody Allen as much as the next guy (in fact, probably more) but staring at him every Friday night expecting a beautiful woman was always underwhelming. Fail.

Then there was the dog. Ah, yes, the dog. If you can tell from the picture above, the ads looked over a traffic island. When crossing Allen Street you would always spend a few moments on this cement safe-haven and have nothing to stare at. Naturally, your eye would wander. At first I would try to be subtle: I didn't want to look like a perverted monster in front of everyone in my neighborhood. As time went on, however, I made no attempt to handle myself with a shred of chivalry. I would stare with my mouth wide open, head at a 45 degree angle, completely motionless. From across the street you could always see men doing the exact same thing. It was hilarious.

One day I was with Carlos and we were looking at our favorite. This one:

We had both seen it at least fifty times in our lives. He said "What a lucky dog" and I had no idea what he meant. After examining it I realized, for the first time, that there was a dog in the photograph.

From that day on, every time I saw some dude staring at this gal I would say "Hey did you notice the dog?" and 90% of the time they would go:

"HOLY SHIT THERE'S A DOG IN THAT PHOTO?"

I guess the eye likes to filter details out, sometimes.

The banner is gone now and they never tossed a new one up. I'm sure a few people ran red lights because of these things and maybe we are better off without them. Lord knows I don't need to see that shit every time I walk home.

I'd like to thank Carlos for doing the research and finding the image of our lost love.

I sign off with a personal message to Dov Charney: Thanks for being such a sleaze-bag.

Track Marks

2009-10-29T10:29:00.001-07:00

My yesterday and bulk of today were spent in a doctor's office right in the middle of the Magnificent Mile. I have been going for allergy tests and as usual, they stabbed me up with things I'm allergic to. I sat in a room with bumps on my arms swelling up for a few hours while playing checkers on my ipod. I know what you are thinking and it's true: I live a really fast paced life.

Today coming back from my morning appointment I was on the train and it was nearly empty. I didn't want to sit because I had been sitting all day so I stood holding onto the rail, arm fully extended. I swayed back and forth to pass the time and was having a good ride.

That's when I realized the woman sitting in the seat beneath my arm was staring at me. Women stare at me all the time (I can't figure out if it's because I'm good looking or wretched) so I gave her a signature "Kevin Gannon Half Smile" and brushed it off.

A stop later she was grilling me. She sighed, made that clicking sound with her tongue people make when they are disappointed in someone else and looked out the window.

"Holy shit" I thought. "I'm that bad?"

I started to stare at her in hopes she'd tell me what was wrong. Finally at her stop (which, awkwardly was the same as mine) she stood up and said:

"You are going to kill yourself."

I was shocked. I thought maybe she was an oracle of some sort and had seen the future. Maybe somewhere down the line I off myself. Maybe I accidentally kill myself doing something stupid and she didn't choose her words right. She knew something about my fate. She was warning me.

"What?"

I was captivated.

"Drugs. You are too young for that type

of drug and it's going to kill you."

I was so confused. I stared at her. I don't do drugs. Do I? Does she know something about me I don't know? Either way, the train was rolling into the station. I gave her one last confused look and said "Drugs?" and she made the clicking sound again. This time, however, she pointed at my forearm.

Track marks. From the allergy tests.

I looked like a big fat junkie. I fucked up and meant to explain the situation but instead all that came out was:

"These are from needles!"

She walked off the train and I followed. There was a weird moment when I was behind her and it looked like I was going to rob her. I didn't though, because I'm not a junkie. If I was a junkie I deserved an award for such symmetrical track marks.

Also, in other news: I'm not allergic to Asprin like I thought I was! YAAAAAAY!

Ad Camo

2009-10-28T21:48:00.000-07:00

I had to make a digital collage. Everyone knows I love using logos in my work. They are easy to alter, abundant and come with all the luggage pre-attached.

That's why I made this awesome "Logo Camo" piece. I'm picking up the 30x20 inch print tomorrow and can't wait to hang it above my desk.

Blogger is acting up and won't upload pictures. I had to use photobucket which doesn't scale them to the computer screen. If I were you, I'd click on the above image for the full effect.

-Kdog

Sobering

2009-10-25T13:14:00.000-07:00

A lot of drinking gets done at most Colleges and mine isn't any different. I heard this Christian rap today and I have to say, it was pretty sobering*.

*Note my sarcasm.

Wronng

2009-10-24T17:10:00.000-07:00

I need help. Today I took the opening line from "The Day Of The Triffids" and decided to make it a big ol' gel transfer. It came out pretty dope and I was very satisfied. It goes:

"When a day you happen to know is Wednesday

starts off by sounding line a Sunday,

there is something seriously wrong

somewhere"

Pretty amazing, huh? Like I said, it came out pretty dope:

Looks pretty good, right? I showed it to my TA and he pointed out a soul crushing detail. There is something seriously wrong somewhere. Can you find it?

I spelt "wrong" incorrectly. Sure, that sucks. Then I realized, wait, is that awesome? Could this mistake be a high concept piece of ironic genius?

I don't know. You tell me.

Kevin? Kevin?! SNAAAAAAKE!

2009-10-23T14:13:00.000-07:00

I made a post every day for like two weeks and then completely disappeared. Am I dead? Am I sick? Did I quit? Is everything OK?

No, no, no and yes. My Mom is in town visiting me so I have been super busy. Don't worry, though: I'll be back soon with clean laundry and a stomach full of momma's home cooking. Just give me a day or two.

Sorry, yall.

Light Box

2009-10-20T06:06:00.001-07:00

As I wait for my photos I have a critique on today to transfer to a thumb drive, I thought I'd share with you the shitty DIY light box I made last night:

It was pretty rough around the edges, especially because I made it in twenty minutes. Still, the images came out nicely. I did a little series on trinkets that shouldn't be trinkets. Awkward trinkets. Offensive trinkets. Strange trinkets. Here is my favorite:

Ah, America.

Animal's House

2009-10-18T22:30:00.000-07:00

Here at the Elk when I'm not toasting my feet by the fire, sipping on a cup of tea or working I set some time aside to play with the native animals of this apartment.

Mayor Arbuckle strolls around squeaking happily, avoiding foot traffic as best he can.

The baby SeaMonkeys frolic in their water protecting the gold coins left by pirates centuries ago that lay at the bottom of their ocean's floor.

All while this animal (the one that's on the top of the food chain) mills around, angrily mumbling about how the woman at Petco didn't tell him that the Guinea Pig won't eat anything that's not fresh from the produce section and complaining about how long SeaMonkeys take to grow and become awesome.

Cheers.

Slow Saturday

2009-10-17T15:35:00.000-07:00

I had my printing class today and boy-oh-boy was it a long one. It wasn't the class that was monotonous, no. It wasn't the art I was making, either. It was me. For some reason I woke up this morning and traveled at snail speed. It was cold outside, snowed a little bit (which sucks) and after crawling belly down to the train stop, leaving a trail of slime behind me I eventually found myself sitting in class, staring out the the window at this:

Pretty far from the snowy, shitty, "doodie-cacka" I woke up to this morning, yes?. That's good, right? No. Why? Well, I was wearing three layers, a gigantic jacket and a wool hat.

I was doing work but just kept sl o w i n g d o w n.

I couldn't tell if I was crazy but everyone else seemed to be walking around and working like zombies, too. The print media department is all cementy and cold and eventually clouds rolled in which made things even gloomier. It was honestly, one of the biggest bummers of a day I have had so far. I started to check Facebook, Gizmodo and Kotaku over and over and over again. I couldn't even waste time if I tried.

Even though I was such a blob I still managed to get a few good prints done. Here is my assembly line of Doctor McCoys...

...and here is a print I really like. I was going to make a book last year but never did and this was supposed to be the cover. I couldn't find the Photoshop file but it took no time at all to re-do.

I did a couple more of a few different planets and they all turned out pretty sweet.

Now, I sit on the Futon, legs rotting away as I fight the urge to doze off. I welcome Sunday and hope it's as slow as today. I'm sure, however, it won't be.

Balloon Boy Does it Again

2009-10-16T17:37:00.000-07:00

I know some (or at least one of you) thought my last post on Balloon Boy ripping a big, wet fart during an interview was immature. If that was you, I would advise skipping this post.

Well, I was watching another interview with him again today and the kid topped his flatulence from last night. On live Television, he screamed for "a cup" and hurled chunks right then and there. It might be one of the funniest things I have ever seen play out on my computer screen.

You can see it all go down at about 6:00 minutes in.

This kids my hero.

Balloon Kid Farts

2009-10-15T20:46:00.000-07:00

Today I was sitting by the fireplace and I read about the whole "boy floating around the upper atmosphere in a balloon" fiasco. I tuned into the live feeds from a few websites. I was hooked. When I saw the balloon was empty I thought to myself that some poor kid was hanging from a tree and that in a few days time his dead body would surface. Terrible, terrible stuff.

As it turns out, everyone knows the punk was hiding in the garage the whole time. There have been speculations that the family put him up to it. They already have a bit of reality television fame and some speculate that they wanted much, much more.

Wolf Blitzer got an interview already and the kid clearly states that "They did it for the show"

The Wolfman doesn't acknowledge this. Perhaps because he felt uncomfortable in the middle of an awkward situation. No, I'm not referring to the embarrassment of his family who just got exposed as complete douche bags. I'm referring to the disgusting, loud, wet fart the kid ripped immediately after fessing up.

Go to 40 seconds in, it's hilarious.

No one has mentioned it. Am I the only one who hears it?

Can't Wait For This Book

2009-10-14T19:58:00.000-07:00

In recent times I have been completely obsessed with 9/11 "Truthers" (as you have heard me mention a few too many times).

It's not really the ideas they believe in that fascinate me, it's the people themselves. Or, more importantly, what's driving them to think such ridiculous thoughts? I have been obsessing over conspiracy theorists in the past few months and am thinking of using the topic in a project or two come midterms. The idea that people can hijack scientific reasoning to help prove an argument that, in a larger scientific scale, seems flat out incorrect blows my mind. I need more info, though, and today I came across this book:

I just ordered this baby on Amazon a few hours ago (it was actually really cheap, $8 or something) and I cannot wait to get it. I, honestly, haven't been this excited about a book coming in a long time.

Rev. Billy Talen vs Mike Bloomberg. FIGHT!

2009-10-14T15:37:00.000-07:00

I'm not in New York these days so I found out pretty late that there were debates held last night for the next Mayoral election. I have been pretty torn lately because I really, really like Bloomberg but I also really, really like democracies and the term limits that come with them.

Because I'm 90% certain the man I prefer is going to win I'm not that upset saying that, just on principle, I'm not voting for him. I have been considering voting for Billy Talen (who's pretty fucking cool) but am still on the fence. Last night the two butt heads. It was heated.

In other news, will someone please get Dominic Carter his own show on a legit news station?

Just Another Tuesday Night...

2009-10-13T18:14:00.000-07:00

I just made a rubber mold out of Preston's face. He is going to pour jello into it and do a performance piece tomorrow where he eats his own head. Best part? Since Preston couldn't see anything I was able to flip him off point blank multiple times.

Just another night at The Elk.

Kirk's Wood

2009-10-12T13:55:00.001-07:00

Last Saturday one of my classes did alcohol gel transfers. It's a pretty easy and nifty way to do a print because all you need is clear, emulsion coated paper (which is pretty cheap), a printer and some hand sanitizer. Essentially (from what I understand) the alcohol in the hand sanitizer breaks down the ink on the transfer sheet and voila, you have a print.

We were supposed to do things in a similar series so I got some images of those who boldly went where no man had gone before. I brought home two that I didn't think were quite good enough to make critique but fun enough to hang on a wall back the pad.

Here is the Captain himself on a big ol' piece of plywood.

Here, the boys have their phasers set to kill.

I like these.

Bacon Weave

2009-10-11T11:41:00.000-07:00

Question:

What happens when two young men are hungry and only have a pound of bacon and a shred of cheese in the fridge?

Answer:

Magic.

For years mentions of this elusive dish have floated around the Internet. I have always been curious to taste the most glorious dish any mortal man could ever make. To savor the meal who's final step is divine intervention. Some day, I knew, I would.

Carlos had one once and told me it was less than stellar. I could not accept that. I decided that one day I would make one of my own. It would be stellar.

That day was yesterday. Originally it was only me in the kitchen, manning the flames of the oven and sewing strips of pork meat together like there was no tomorrow. I tossed the glorious cloak in the heat and soon the smell attracted Preston, who then became my kitchen assistant.

The weave was really, really hot. It wasn't the bacon that burnt flesh but the thick layer of bubbling hot grease that coated it on all ends. We still needed to cheese it up and roll it up before it got cold but there was no way in hell Preston or I could pull that task off without being wounded. We had a quick ethical conversation, wondering if wounds were worth the meal. We were about to martyrize our fingers when Preston had a brilliant idea.

We put the cheese on and rolled it up. There was a subtle rumble in the earth below. I thought it was either the train going by or the gods awaking from their slumbers to witness two men attempt a task so notoriously dangerous, even amongst the creators themselves it was considered lunacy.

Cheesed it, rolled it up and BEHOLD!

The Bacon Weave.

What's scary is that we each got a half and both ate in under five minutes. It wasn't even hard, in fact, it was delicious and felt like eating a few pieces of bacon. That's the dangerous thing about that stuff: if you can't see exactly how much you are eating your body assumes you are eating one small portion and leaves you wanting more.

At the end of the five minute feast Preston and I realized we each ate half a pound of bacon. I can't remember exactly because I felt faint but I believe we high fived and screamed "BACON WEAVE!"

BOOYAH!

Soon, Chicago Will Be Uninhabitable

2009-10-10T06:33:00.000-07:00

This lovely Saturday morning I woke up and did the whole morning routine. Part of my shtick is checking the weather reports on Dashboard so I know that I won't freeze my private parts off when I go to the loop for class.

This morning shocked me. I could tell it was colder than usual because my room was a little drafty. When I looked at my Dashboard I thought "Oh god, It's here"

One degree. Not "degrees" but "degree". It's so cold out that there is only one little unit of an untouchable concept keeping the entire city from zero. I remember those days from last year, the cold wind slapping you in the face every time you turned a corner. It was horrible. It was something I wasn't looking forward to. It was here.

Dear, God, why do you do this to us Chicagoans? Dear Chicagoans, why do we put up with this?

I started to panic. I grabbed my long johns, blew the dust off and said "looks like I'll be using you earlier than I thought" while shivering in fear of what was to come. It was already so cold.

That's when I looked at the Dashboard again. Whoops. My friend Monty, who is from Mexico, can only read temperatures in Celsius (like the rest of the world, those suckers). Immediately next to my Dashboard widget was another, reading a much more palatable temperature.

Whoops. It's still mad cold but I didn't need the long johns. The train platform was slicked with ice and I could feel myself slowly sliding towards the tracks but I lived to tell the story.

Moral of the story? Long live the United States Customary Units!

I'll Take You To Burn

2009-10-09T15:04:00.000-07:00

Play this song as you read this post. That's an order.

Preston and I finally have the fireplace working and holy cow, does it change things. Last night we had a little get together with a small cluster of friendly people, tossed in a log and listened to tunes, told stories and drank some booze.

On this rainy Friday, we decided to do it all over again. Feels good to put yer' feet up, listen to the crackling flames, sip some tea and watch Star Trek.

Who says college living is supposed to be humble?

Sleep

2009-10-06T20:27:00.000-07:00

A while ago a post on Ludwig's blog got me thinking about sleep. In recent weeks I have been incredibly tired from the moment I wake up until about 6 at night. It blows and it only happens on weekdays when I have to get up early. Clearly, I don't get enough sleep.

Today was the final straw. I woke up with a shitty headache and I still have it. The only time it's not bothering me is when I'm asleep. That sucks.

I usually get five to six hours a night. That is what I got last year and could totally function on it. I guess I'm getting old, though, because now it just ain't enough these days.

I have been doing some research and it turns out that six hours of sleep is, frankly, not enough. I can't really do anything about it because I have such a hard time falling asleep. I get my work done earlier and earlier these days so I have the potential to get a good nights rest but never seem to.

Tonight will be different. It's 10:30. I'm going to crawl into my bed. Read a bit, breath a bit, hit the lights and hopefully snooze off at midnight. That will give me seven and a half hours of sleep under my belt. If it feels that good in the morning, I'll do it every night.

I feel sort of like a herb going to sleep at 11. Oh well. I guess that's how big boys do it.

More importantly, I'm curious, how much sleep do you guys get? I know Carlos gets a lot more than I do because he's more responsible. I talked to him and said it then and I'll say it again: you are doing it right.

What about everyone else? You get more than 6 hours of sleep a night?

On an unrelated note, if I knew how to drive this is exactly how it would go down these days:

"What in the hell was that?"

Pain In The Ass P.O.V

2009-10-05T22:47:00.000-07:00

A little context here. My laundry room is in the next building so I have to put my shoes (and pants) on, walk outside, enter another building and crawl down into the basement. I'd complain about it but I got it better than a lot of other kids I know who have to drag their shit to a Laundromat. Still, things find ways of going wrong and it's only so long until I can't hold my tongue anymore...

"Don't be scared, Kevin. Don't be scared, Kevin..."

"Booyah! Clean laundry. Now I won't

smell like ass tomorrow!"

"Hey, what the fuck? This shit's still wet! It was

in here for an hour!"

"I'll do it again. Looks like I'm getting 60 minutes less

sleep tonight..."

"Good thing I'm prepared. Wait...who put a dime

and a nickel in my quarter jar?! ASS!"

"Fuck it. I'm going to sleep."

Holy cow, Truthers at my door

2009-10-04T19:16:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I posted a video about 9/11 not being a conspiracy. I was fully aware of the comments I would get from "Truthers" who disagree with me. In fact, that was one of the reasons I did it. I'll be honest, I thought it would be fun to get people's goats. Problem is, once I had a few hundred goats tied up in my backyard I realized how loud and annoying goats are.

Over the weeks the comments have grown more and more aggressive. Whatever, yo, water off my back. I'm a big boy.

What is frustrating, however, is that the comments are beginning to show that people are completely incapable of peacefully disagreeing with each other. Still, a much more disturbing fact was that people generally think "Acknowledge" is spelt "Agnologe"

Today I got one that I thought was so interesting I should post it here. It comes from some guy named "Michellenite" who has no videos uploaded so I can't really get a feel for what he's into.

He said:

"Listen BrokeHoeProductions You know nothing.. you are a chump ass child..9/11 was created by our own government.... I live in Chicago as well... and i am ACTIVE... if you step to me when I am demonstrating.. I Will HURT you"

Holy shit. This guy is pissed. I thought I would emphasize his anger by putting his quotes in a soft salmon color. I am very grateful for Michellenite's comment because it helped prove a point. Taking any idea so extremely that you become fanatical is a big fucking problem this country has.

I have one thing to say to this individual and truly mean it. I responded on Youtube so he will end up reading it (as I'm comfortable to assume he is not a reader of this blog). Frankly, I hope I do cross paths with this man. Why? Because he will feel like a completle and utter douche bag for hurting someone simply because they diasgreed with him.

It's funny how people like this consider themselves protectors American freedoms.

Sillies.

I'm a Rock it, Man.

2009-10-04T16:33:00.001-07:00

Preston and I have been obsessed with the acting abilities of William Shatner. Because of this, I was surfing the Tube and came across what might be the most wonderful, bizarre and stimulating videos of all time.

I present to you, William Shatner doing Rocketman.

Meet my new roommate

2009-10-03T16:42:00.000-07:00

No, Preston hasn't bailed on me. I now have a second roommate. He doesn't have a name yet but I think he'd love to meet you.

Today I went to Petco with Preston. It was a long and beautiful walk through a part of Chicago I have never ventured through. I was going to buy a hamster but things didn't quite work out that way once I got there.

I found myself staring at the Guinea Pigs. They were super cool but a bit out of my budget. I was just about to give up and settle with a lame hamster. That is when fate stepped in.

Preston and I were approached by a very nice young lady named Rachel. She worked at the joint and told us about a Guinea pig that was up for adoption. We went over and met him. We fell in love.

He is a year old and was given up by his previous family because the daughter couldn't handle it's awesomeness. It is friendly, loves people and huge. When you put your hand in the cage he doesn't run away like most small rodents. Instead, he walks right up to you and smells/licks your fingers. He loves to sit on laps and watch Star Trek. He's perfect.

By the time we decided to adopt him it was raining and we had our hands full. We were a far walk away from home and things were looking bleak.

That's when Rachel offered us a ride. It was very gracious of her and she didn't seem to mind at all. She's one of those people that give me hope for humanity.

After settling in we tossed our new friend a few chew sticks. He loves em'. We are getting a leash for him soon and I'm excited to have a little buddy to keep my lap warm when I'm watching TV. I just hope he doesn't shit and piss all over me (which I'm pretty sure these things are known to do). I will let you know when that happens.

Right now we are just trying to name him. I voted for Spock, Papa New Guinea Pig or Moe Green. Any suggestions?

Captain's Log: No fridge

2009-10-01T16:03:00.000-07:00

I love mildly rainy afternoons. The air is crisp, the light is easy on the eyes and there isn't much foot traffic outside (which means I can keep the curtains open without feeling like a Zoo attraction). Preston had the right idea and fell asleep on the futon. I have dibs on it when he wakes up.

I have been watching the first season of Star Trek remasters in glorious HD (with a few added CGI effects that really ruin it, but hey, it's better than nothing), drinking tea and taking in this perfect day.

In other news, our fridge broke (again) and Preston and I lost a lot of food. We have been living off of frozen goods since the freezer works fine. It's been a bit of a bummer but today we got a call from the Landlord who said tomorrow we are getting a brand spanking new, beautiful fridge. I can't wait. The only problem is that we didn't notice the thing had turned off for what seems to be at least a day or two. That means all of our food has been sitting in there slowly rotting away. It smells like pure, undiluted shit that was wrapped in an onion, fermented in urine and then buried deep below the earth for hundreds of years. We have to clean it out before the new fridge comes (we don't want to be assholes and send this one off filled with rotting corpses for some poor schmuck to put in the back of his truck) so I'm building up the courage to take care of business later tonight.

Not something I'm looking forward to.

Wednesday night art fart

2009-09-30T20:24:00.000-07:00

I felt like making something today but didn't feel like drawing, writing or filming anything. I have a shit load of paints I bought last year as an investment for times like these and I whipped them out.

I decided to attempt painting a Triffid. I'm a terrible painter but thought maybe tonight would be different.

Guess what?

Tonight wasn't different.

I failed miserably at rendering a triffid. I painted over it and tried again. Fail. Then again. Major fail. After a thick layer of paint was covering my precious triffids I took my palette and tossed it on the canvas saying "fuck this I prefer the paint bucket tool in photoshop"

I pulled the palette off and liked what I saw. I put more paint on it here and there and tried my best attempt at a flattened Pollock. How's that Ezra?

Here's the big question. Which would go in the Museum? The piece?

Or the palette?

You decide. I vote palette because it would piss people off. More realistically, I think I'll be using this piece as a gigantic coaster.

Check this out NOW

2009-09-29T17:12:00.000-07:00

Today in Millennium park there was a DJ spinning some shit and he played a dope song. The only lyric I heard was "I should Tell Ya Momma on You" and I made a mental note to find it online.

I couldn't find it on Youtube. Bummer. Instead, I found something INCREDIBLE. Anyone who has any interest in music needs to listen to this right fucking now.

I don't know anything about this cat but that he's homeless. Holy shit. Someone give this guy a house.

Breaking news!

I found the song I was originally looking for. It was a lot better the way the DJ played it because he mashed it up with "Rock the Casbah"

Here it is, its called Step Daddy. After listening to it, actually, it's fucking dope.

Fall fell, night follows

2009-09-28T22:46:00.000-07:00

It's gotten pretty chilly here and the smell of fall is in the air. It's oddly exciting knowing that the infamous Chicago cold is on it's way. I did something incredibly out of character today and did all my work due tomorrow and the next day. That means for the next 48 hours, aside from what I do in class I can just relax and wait for Thursday and Friday to roll by (two, wonderfully classless days).

I went for a nighttime stroll tonight to snap some photos for a class tomorrow. It was beautiful out.

King of (Silent) Cartoons

2009-09-27T20:06:00.001-07:00

I want to introduce you to a pretty cool cat. His name is Tom Stathes and I think he might interest all you film junkies out there.

Tom is an avid collector of early animated films. He has an encyclopedic knowledge on the topic and through our dialogues I have come to admire not only his appreciation of a medium but also his emphasis on the preservation and celebration that must go into it.

He sells quality prints at fair prices off of his website (which I will link later) and I myself have been a customer of his. I came across him through a Craigslist back when I just got my projector. He was selling some 16mm prints that were lying around and didn't really have a place in his collection (mostly PSAs and propaganda flicks). To be a nice guy, he threw in a free reel or two. What was on them? Cartoons, of course.

It's definitely worth checking out if you want to purchase some films but also if you just want a good read. He hosts screenings occasionally and if I'm in town for the next one I'll definitely hit that up.

He just put up a cleaner, new site and I thought I owed it to him to let you guys know about it. To visit his new site, click HERE. I highly recommend doing so.

Also, my final thought on Tom. In his blogger default picture he looks a little bit like Ernest Hemingway.

Major plus.

First Print

2009-09-27T16:42:00.000-07:00

Remember that NBC Baby Jesus I showed you last week? Well, I printed it yesterday and boy oh boy was it fun.

I have never done screen printing and the process was completely new to me. Because of that, it took a little tinkering to master properly and the image didn't come out as good as I was expecting it would. Still, my eyes were opened to a new medium that is a lot of fun. How often do you get to point blank a power washer to the face of Baby Jesus?

If you answered "often" to that please contact me immediately. I want to learn from you.

The first print came out looking pretty crappy. It was clear I over estimated the power of water color and crayons. It's tough going to art school when you can't recall the last time you picked up a paint brush and expect crayolas to work like a sharpie.

I stopped whining and made some darker layers of color. My print was still not coming out that well but to the professor and TA's eyes I was doing everything right. After a few run troughs we came to the realization that I was a total pussy and couldn't put enough pressure on the squeegee to get a good image. Even when I pushed my hardest, shaking and nearing an aneurysm I just wasn't strong enough. I added "Screen printing" to my long list of reasons to start weight lifting.

The print came out decently.

The most fun I had was when I took the screen to the wash room. The joint is a fucking dump in the most charming way. It's dark, it's small and everything is wet. Also, somehow, you are always alone. The pictures don't do the place justice but I felt obligated to snap a picture anyway.

I hope that as the semester progresses I have some better prints to show off. I'm already thinking about my next one and have one hint: Triffids.

Flies, Birdshit and a Good Omen

2009-09-22T12:55:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite posts Ludwig has written in his career as a successful blogger popped up last week. I will properly link it here, but to paraphrase it roughly went as follows:

"My hair was in my eyes and it was pissing me off.

Right there and then I said "God, please stop the

wind from blowing my bangs into my eyeballs"

Right then and there a bird shat right on my forehead.

God answered. I laughed all the way to work"

This has been on my mind lately because, frankly, it's hilarious and defines life beautifully. Today I was walking through Millennium park and starving. I was thinking about where to get grub but nothing in the loop really satisfied me (and those that did were notorious for long lines come lunch time). I said, literally, out loud:

"God, I'm fucking hungry. This sucks."

Right then and there, a very large fly flew into my mouth. To the shock and horror of the crowd I stopped walking, wrestled with it and gave in: "gulp"

I swallowed that sucker. Immediately I thought "this is hilarious" but then realized something: Ludwig's done it.

On the topic of Ludwig it's worth mentioning something. He has formed the Good Omen again and this time with an all star cast. The demo is out and (though rough) it's fucking good. It's a foreshadowing of what's to come. I can't wait until these guys get in a studio and churn out some real deal masterpieces.

Give em' a listen here.

Best wishes, Good Omen, from yer' brother on the Journey. Kdog.

There will be MILKSHAKES!

2009-09-20T19:17:00.000-07:00

My name is Daniel Plainview. I'm an oil man. I drill for oil. I also like milkshakes.

Not.

When "There Will be Blood" came out Robbie and Carlos kept going on and on about how good it was. I, for some reason, thought it didn't look like my sort of film and opted out on paying the 13 dollars to see it in theatres.

Eventually I did see it with Carlos on some movie channel and I was blown away. It was indeed my sort of film and I regretted not seeing it on the big screen with everyone else.

Needless to say, "There Will Be Blood" was one of my most desired films to add to my Blu-Ray collection. I looked everywhere for it and (somehow) couldn't find it. One quick visit to Amazon cured my fix and saved me a couple of bucks. When I got it I made a phonecall. It was time to watch "There Will Be Blood" in crisp 1080i accompanied with killer surround sound with good company.

Take this opportunity to meet my dear friend Monty. I can't remember if I have ever talked about him in previous posts but we met on the shoot of "War of the Ants" and am I glad we did. Monty is a big fan of the film and can do the best Daniel Plainview impression out of all of us. He was integral for what followed.

After making a pit stop to stock up on refreshments, Monty, Preston and I decided to settle down and watch the film. There was one problem, though. Our stomachs were growling. "There Will be Blood" is not a film to watch hungry. It's already such a stimulation of all five senses that hearing your stomach eat itself will only further plummet you into the depravity of life. This, though serious, is nothing a little baked chicken boobie couldn't fix.

The hunger and anticipation was a catalyst for my new recipe: "There Will be Heart Surgery" chicken. It's easy, folks. Get an entire stick and a half of butter, melt it down and then put an equal amount of Worcester sauce in it. Mix that up real good and rub it all over the chicken. Throw whatever spices you have on top of that in the mix, fill the rest of the pan with olive oil (and if you have it, some beer) and let sit in the oven until the grease pops loud enough that you fear an explosion. That, my friends, is good eating.

After eating we were all stuffed and a little, well, "giddy". The film hadn't even started yet and Spuds had drank waaaaaay too much. We had to put him to sleep and let the men take care of business.

After finally sitting down to watch the film the atmosphere changed. Daniel Day scared the shit out of us and we were transported to another world. The quality of this Blu-Ray is superb. The darks were a little too dark (which for a film that has entire scenes playing out hundreds of feet underground with no lights is a bit of a problem) but I can't say whether or not it is my TV or the Blue-Ray itself. I have actually recently been considering bringing my Blue-Ray collection to someone elses house so I can see how a television will effect the process. I have yet to meet anyone with the proper HD set up, though, so that is for another post.

A few refreshments and three acts later the film was over. What a great time. I swear to you, I have never heard three individuals making so many "Milkshake" jokes. It was truly hilarious. After an hour Preston and I had just as good of an impression of Daniel Plainview as Monty did.

It was during all of this that Monty, very seriously said "We need MILKSHAKES!"

One very late night trip to Jewel Osco later and what do you know?

We have Milkshakes. Delicious, chocolate milkshakes. I can't verify as to whether or not any of our refreshments made it into that milkshake but I can say that by the end of the night I was most certainly ready to hit the hay. Hard.

I can honestly say, it was one of the most fun nights I have had since moving out to Chicago. I can also say, with absolute certainty:

I. Will drink. Your, MILKSHAKE!

Monoprint

2009-09-20T13:01:00.000-07:00

Next week for my Command P class we are making monoprints with alcohol gel transfers. Should be fun and I'm excited to see what I churn out. Everyone in the class seems to have more experience with prints and seeing as this is my first I'm very pumped to do it.

I made a Baby Jesus TV. If I understand the process right the light is blocked by whatever of the image is black (so it's all a bitmap) and whatever is white will expose on some emulsion or something. Hopefully this will look very cool.