The idea of sharing the impulsive moments of my life on this blog, while simultaneously, being understood as a serious artist has seemed an act of self indulgence with a side of professional sabotage. People need boxes. People need to sum you and your work up in speed dating time and then they freeze you, Hans Solo style, into that conceived mold.
Every creative person striving towards success is playing a one way laser tag game in the woods with the proverbial Jabba The Hut. Ooooo Jabba liked your last move and (crap!) you are out in the open. Haha! LASERBEAM........ Next thing you know you're making the same work every day as if you've become Phil in Groundhog Day. But it's safe for investors, safe for fans, safe for everyone who wants to quickly understand you and move on.
Enter dark, emaciated, asexual, brooding artist wearing fedora in the corner with perfectly coordinated awkwardness holding a hipstamatic sign that says-
"No one understands, you don't understand, I don't understand. I glue kittens to toilet seats. Understand? Don't talk. I sign."
wow.
brilliant.
Second Entrance- angry feminist artist dressed as Bertolt Brecht's costume designer that shoots paintballs from her crotch onto angry canvases and identifies herself with her pet Honey Badger- her animal spirit. Honey Badger don't give a s###. Powpowpow- oh no, wait, Honey Badger just got hit with a paintball! It doesn't give a s###, it gets up and wants another.
But expressing yourself on more than just a sure fire marketing platform and NOT having printwork that includes at least ONE celebrity face somewhere? This is a joke, is THIS the joke, wait..... which joke are we talking about exactly?! WHERE"S THE FRIGGING LASER?!?!?!
Who wants to back some chameleon who follows their instincts, not the critics and investors?
I would and only them. Why? David Bowie
I can't help myself, being myself, whatever part needs expressed for the fitting moment. I have been trapped in what feels like R. Kelly's LA closet this past year with most of my friends, reality comrades, and sounding boards on the other side of the country leaving one lone friend to bear the brunt of my conversation. Presently, she is on life support but it's looking up.
Many a person in my life have lovingly and, sometimes, not so lovingly, indulged themselves in this particular treat of being absolutely real and ridiculous while simultaneously working out the bigger serious issues of the world around us and how we relate to it and each other. I, for one, am up there in the adventures, with the tenacity of a certain Beagle I know with a serious addiction to cat food. To me, that is real truth, real honesty, real living, real art.
To be continued....
In the meantime, enjoy learning more about Honey Badger through the words of Randall.
Every creative person striving towards success is playing a one way laser tag game in the woods with the proverbial Jabba The Hut. Ooooo Jabba liked your last move and (crap!) you are out in the open. Haha! LASERBEAM........ Next thing you know you're making the same work every day as if you've become Phil in Groundhog Day. But it's safe for investors, safe for fans, safe for everyone who wants to quickly understand you and move on.
Enter dark, emaciated, asexual, brooding artist wearing fedora in the corner with perfectly coordinated awkwardness holding a hipstamatic sign that says-
"No one understands, you don't understand, I don't understand. I glue kittens to toilet seats. Understand? Don't talk. I sign."
wow.
brilliant.
Second Entrance- angry feminist artist dressed as Bertolt Brecht's costume designer that shoots paintballs from her crotch onto angry canvases and identifies herself with her pet Honey Badger- her animal spirit. Honey Badger don't give a s###. Powpowpow- oh no, wait, Honey Badger just got hit with a paintball! It doesn't give a s###, it gets up and wants another.
But expressing yourself on more than just a sure fire marketing platform and NOT having printwork that includes at least ONE celebrity face somewhere? This is a joke, is THIS the joke, wait..... which joke are we talking about exactly?! WHERE"S THE FRIGGING LASER?!?!?!
Who wants to back some chameleon who follows their instincts, not the critics and investors?
I would and only them. Why? David Bowie
I can't help myself, being myself, whatever part needs expressed for the fitting moment. I have been trapped in what feels like R. Kelly's LA closet this past year with most of my friends, reality comrades, and sounding boards on the other side of the country leaving one lone friend to bear the brunt of my conversation. Presently, she is on life support but it's looking up.
Many a person in my life have lovingly and, sometimes, not so lovingly, indulged themselves in this particular treat of being absolutely real and ridiculous while simultaneously working out the bigger serious issues of the world around us and how we relate to it and each other. I, for one, am up there in the adventures, with the tenacity of a certain Beagle I know with a serious addiction to cat food. To me, that is real truth, real honesty, real living, real art.
I am not speaking of some unattainable ideal. I repeat the tangible- David Bowie. I was first introduced to his ideas, music, clothes, & rockstar attitude (see pic below) at four years old by my coolest of cool oldest sister, Karen. Here is my oldest, dearest friend in the world, Jul, who agrees.
Be yourself, if it true, in all moments, though the outside may only see a potential multiple personality disorder, that is the true reflection of journey and experience.
And to those who prefer the cut and dry, stale tried and true, keep your boxes.
To be continued....
In the meantime, enjoy learning more about Honey Badger through the words of Randall.
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