jinx left me sole-less

so the day after an intense and interesting day. i spent all day in room 410 of the sharp building, except for half an hour at lunch. in core we had an assignment the week before to go out and create/ isolate shapes in a space and photograph them then draw the shape. well i took 200 photos that day and left it off till the weekend when i very quickly realized that the assignment as given was kind of beneath me, it did not move at a fast enough pace, they just wanted eight drawings in black and white that didnt progress much at all. so i did some drawing and two were in pale green isolating the shap... whatever, then i did two oil paintings that i really liked and thought my teachers would like too because there all on my nutz. then as time went on i got nervous, because i kind of ignored most of the parameters of the assignment and thought they would say i did it wrong. then in class we had critique and even before we got to my work pete had said something about somebodies piece, then i thought about what he said and waited my turn and said, "you know pete, i have to disagree with you..." and went on explaining how he was exactly wrong. as somebody else was talking, pete leaned over to me and said, you know what, you're right man i was totally wrong about that piece. then after some people talked, pete said to the whole class how i was right about the piece, then titus, the other teacher said "alright!" and gave me a fist bump right there.
real professional guys.
then when when we did get to my work titus opened up by saying that, i knocked it out of the park. he said and i quote, "you got to the heart of this exercise and then ripped it out and ate it."

for the rest of core i worked on some paintings based on those two, and they pretty much left me alone, like that same old art teacher thing, leave the person who is actually doing something to their own devices and let them figure it out. i stayed late painting and rocking out until after everyone else left. then people for the next class started showing up, and i have that class too so i just hung out till pun intended stared. there was a pretty harsh crit and everybody seemed like they got torn apart, jason had us rank all the pieces from best to least best. he said that my piece was not about what i said it was about and was rather about me making my piece. not that that was such a bad thing, its very post modern in facet, in fact post modernism is the way of the future. so yeah i don't really want to work on that piece for next week, so ive got something else in mind that will blow your brain. i don't feel like blogging any more.

valentines days

worked all day in the wood shop yesterday morning then got by lemonade stand finished around four and came home. killed some time and went to the huge potluck with mad peoples that the mess from is still all around me because as the food died down, i and other people started drinking. got real drunk, fell down a lot, started inchworming around on the floor to the talking heads and started yelling at jenni telling he that i was sober. pretty sure i took my shirt off at one point and started to take my pants off and missed my pocket going for my phone and everybody thought i was digging in my pants. then me a jenni almost died walking down those stairs and "we" watched back to the future. she put it on and the first time doc said 88 mile per hour i was out, jenni stayed up for the whole thing talking out all the things going on and giggling about them. we went to bed and at 5:30 i decided i couldn't sleep and came back to my room and passed the fuck out for five hours. i dreamed about my parents getting a "monkey" at the supermarket, it was just like a kid with a very fine and short layer of hair all over his body, but had a head of brown hair on top it was also proportioned like an adult but child sized and walked upright, but his face was so cute is was totally just a kids face but he was adorable, he had a tail im pretty sure. we were also hanging out in my backyard in Philadelphia my whole fams around the table and the monkey child. and all i could think was how bad i wanted tattoo him, just convince him to stay still and let me make art out of him and have him greet people at a gallery and call it art.

this atually happened in crit

bumpin' cunts on pumpkin hunts

art school makes me hate art more than anything else. it really shows you that it does not take much at all to be here and that if you really were a true artist you would be able to figure this stuff out on your own. but perhaps that part of the lesson, if every motherfucker gets told their shitty art has potential but it most likely doesn't then is it my job as the driven creative thinker that i have been conditioned to think i am to reject the bullshit around me? to speak out against it and critique the institution that i am paying far too much money to attend in the first place? but isn't that the classic art school cliche, i don't want to believe that every student who ever did a piece on how stupid the assignment was to be getting it right. is art smarter than i think it is or is it beneath me, have i thought past it? perhaps being around brain-dead dumb-shits has made me go soft, i used to be able to cut through the bullshit with my sharpened wit stick but the ocean of cloudy molasses bullshit has seemed to of dulled my blade or at least got it second guessing itself in the gay-ass reflection of modern art. society is immune to shock so how do you shake things up, what has yet to be seen or what can i possibly think of that i can't experience through the internet at my fingertips. are my ideas worth your time and will you ever even take them seriously, are you smart enough? can you get it? do i get it?
i think i might just have to become a beat poet who works for food.

electric mosquitoes
eccentric mojitos
afrocentric libidos
alpha-numeric spokesman vetoes
guillotine of versailles...


...messiah-size me
i'm a seoul man

only problem is i might just get performance anxiety and die of starvation. i think il stick it out here for a while, it seems like most of my teaches if not like me then just give me some kind of silent respect because i speak my mind in class and have things to say, most other people don't and never consisantly which leads me to belive that it was jsut a lucky guess at what we were talking about. this also leaves me feeling like i'm just some big asshol who won't shut up during critique. although i pretty much always keep quite when we're tlaking about some really shitty art because the things i have to say are soulcrushing, not for the listener, but for me to express those things, i could never live them down. there mostly things like why are you here, you're wasting my time, i could be doing something productive with this time. that goes or this post aswell, i just cant sleep. pun inted tomorrow! oh boy more explanation on what is funny in an academic setting from a gut who wants to be quasi anti-establishment in some lame ass canadian type way. naw you cool jason dunda, just dont ever introduce me at some art opening who i don't know anybody at as "this is hitler's third bike" again. or its on like michelle quan. you hear me?!!!!!?

april 4th

a day i dont care about because i hate you kathy cho, shut up. but also what kind of t shirt do you want for your birthday, and dont say i dont care because that will be than what's on your shirtyou dumb homo.frenchfries cunt!

motherfucking art history

fuck this guy, fuck art history yo. i get it i fucking get it the impressionists painted everyday stuff and that was shocking to motherfuckers who were used to paintings of old dick bags and christ. to bad there all fucking weak pussyass paintings with no fucking edge, they dont hold up at all in current times and can't really be seen in the same light that they were painted in. they barely have an impact on anything inportant in art, they just cut the trail for craft and mall art. Impressionism was actually bad for art, it lasted too long, artists need to fucking move faster, and why do people still fucking love it so much.
shut the fuck up, i dont even know your name and i want you to know you're a pompus ducheshnozzle, i'm not buying your fucking french, im not buying the fact that you contain all of monet's thoughts about his art. fuck you monet too you can' t just fucking paint six million lilly pads and fucking pass that off, weel you can but don't make your life out of it don't put all of them out there there studys so make one that your're happy with and move on. oh you're too old to go further than your backyard, fucking die then or paint something else dick hole.
oh, all od artists become at peace with the world ok yeah sure, yeha cool thats ok, yeah all artists that reach the age of seveny becmome one with the cosmos yeah sure thats a totally ok coment to make and has everything to do with understanding art history. and i don't care if you don't think that monet sold out. fuckyoufuckyou fuckyoufuckyoufrenchfrieshomos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
yeah criscutmotherfucker,sunnyi'mafuckyofacewithmyfrenckdick,srtaightweecftuh bhgcutmotherfucker.
abcenth is not fucking addictive, assballs!!!
oh yes i agree, the industrial revoulotion does give people more time for people to get into trouble, yeah thats why people drink, they have too much time due to the industrial revoulotion.

most pretentioous thing i have made in a long time (or ever)