Boy, am I glad that human society has allowed us to do specialization. Because the more I learn about my subjects of choice, the more layers there are within them to go down.
My interests are things like economics, sociology, media, and art. And the more I discover about any one of those topics, the more I learn of the people who specialize in them—the people dealing with stuff like this for the longest time. Continue reading
I know not enough,
I see the writing of the masters,
And I realize my own less-ness,
But, Continue reading
Toiling away at your latest art project can take longer than it needs to take.
Let me repeat that: you can make art faster.
But how? Well, it’s possible for all sorts of artists and creators to get out creations faster if they simply let go of something: their need for it to be perfect. Continue reading
I am a writer, so, obviously, that’s the art form that I like the most, and the one I focus the most on, and know the most about, but, inspired by a random thought and subsequent conversation, let’s talk about something obvious.
Let’s talk about how ridiculous—in a good way—music is. Every culture, on the planet, as far as I know, figured out music. Everyone in the modern world recognizes it. Doesn’t matter what language it’s being sung in, or the volume, or the tone, music is universal. Continue reading
The two sat in fluffy chairs on live television.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I was nauseous? It was such a surprise to me. I thought I was getting food poisoning.”
The interviewer smiled at him, but she was nervous underneath the makeup. Her producer told her it would be a good idea to interview one of the Creators, but then they gave her a horror one. Continue reading
Some may disagree with me doing this. Some may become alienated as my experiences do not match up to theirs close enough. And some might simply be mad at me for some other reasons that if I were to guess, I’d likely be wrong about it anyway.
I’m gonna demystify creativity. Continue reading
Now, before you ask any more questions in your head, this post is not motivated by any political event or person or anything of that sort. I am not writing this in response to anything.
I am writing this because I feel I need to write this. Continue reading
On the stage, decked in small ribbons and garish clothing, stood two men, and they both strummed their guitars with passion and grace. One of them was short and fat, the other tall and thin. A generic pair, to be sure, but one that had played for a very long time, in a lot of places.
The day’s patrons did not seem to like the show, however, as they paid little mind to them, walking along, talking amongst themselves—even as a true master, two in fact, went to work.
Well, most did not like it. Though it would never see publication or media attention, the Royal Child was in enraptured attendance. He was toward the back, pretending to be interested in the fruits his handler would offer to him, but only eating them out of habit. Continue reading
(Originally Posted August 2nd, 2017.)
Did you know that Hitler, yes, that Hitler—history’s greatest monster—was a painter? That he was a creator of art?
It’s a bit of a head fuck.
But, no matter how odd to consider, this fact works as a good starting place for a discussion about something that has been bothering me for a long time. Also, I’m sorry to say, if you are reading this think piece and expecting an answer at the end then you are going to be disappointed. Continue reading
Did you know that Hitler, yes, that Hitler—history’s greatest monster—was a painter? That he was a creator of art?
It’s a bit of a head fuck.
But, no matter how odd to consider, this fact works as a good starting place for a discussion about something that has been bothering me for a long time. Also, I’m sorry to say, if you are reading this think piece and expecting an answer at the end then you are going to be disappointed. Continue reading
The easiest way to get me to buy a book is for the first few sentences to blow me away, or for the premise to be amazing, or for your name to be J.K. Rowling or Neal Shusterman.
So, to this end, when I’m not already a fan of the author and the premise isn’t an immediate hook, I have a little test I will do, which while not at all fair, is fun and a learning opportunity. And the test is this: if I read the first sentence, or the first page, and my eyes don’t bounce off once, then it goes on the to-buy list.
Again, super unfair. But it is an interesting exercise. And, by doing this sort of test a lot, I’ve noticed a few reoccurring methods of structuring the beginning sentence from book to book. Continue reading
In life, we must all admit we are not perfect. So here I go: I am not perfect. In other news, the sun is hot, it’s cold in Chicago during the winter, and I write about fucked-up shit.
But I have a point beyond trying to be funny. I use this blog partially to offer advice to writers and artists. In fact, often when I come across an artist in real life who is having a problem, I end up verbally referencing one of my own articles.
But that does not mean I possess the answers to everything in art. Far from it. And in the interest of being open, I will do the opposite of offer advice, and instead talk about a few questions I just do not know an answer to—stuff I could attempt to puzzle out, and might someday understand, but, for now, I’m basically clueless.
So, here we go! Time to admit fault. Time to eat my crow with a slice of humble pie. Time to prove I am still a dumb, dumb human—no matter how pretentious and studious an aura I may try to project. Continue reading
Why do you do the things you do?
Why can’t the ideas spark in someone else’s head?
What did you do to deserve the critical eye? Continue reading
Hey artists, I want to talk to you. I think there’s something you need to hear. Perhaps it’s the first time someone’s told you these words–but I hope not. And even if they have, you deserve to hear them again.
You’re okay.
You’re important.
It may not seem like it some days, but you’re the future. Continue reading
‘Twas the Night before Christmas, and all through the house;
Not a creature was stirring, except me,
Butchering the rhyme a bit as you can see. Continue reading
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