Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
The World is My "Canvas"
The most interesting and difficult thing about painting a realistic self portrait is trying to capture the subject (yourself) in an unbiased and true way. You have to look at yourself from someone else's eyes and try to just look at what's on the surface. But at the same time, you have the ability to create the most realistic, detailed, and deep representation of yourself, more so than anyone else could because you know yourself so well. By incorporating that deeper understanding of why or how you look the way you do, and capturing some of the emotion and personality that lie below the physical surface, you can do something even greater than just painting a realistic-looking picture of yourself.
The green and red painting shown in the document above is a self portrait I did my senior year of high school. It is not digitally rendered, it is hand painted (acrylic) and it is about 3' by 2' on wood. And it took me 3 months. I learned a lot from painting this because I spent so long on it and because initially I was trying to look at myself from someone else's eyes. It wasn't until half way through that I ralized that to make it a true representation of me and to capture the depth and personality of me in it, I HAD to look at me through my own eyes. This is when I chose the color palattes (it was originally to be black and white): the green from my love of nature and peace and my soft personality, the red for my passion and emotion and depth.
Art is autobiographical, along with literature, music, and any other human creation. That is not bad, that is what makes it unique and beautiful. But along with that, we have to realize that our individual outlook on life or people is skewed. And if we judge others or can't appreciate or listen to their view, that is when it is crippling.
I thought I was squeezing the quilts...
I remember arriving outside of class, sitting down to get some work done, and Kiel showing up with a bunch of pizza that he wanted me to hide from the janitors. I thought this a reasonable request from my knowledge of janitors, especially ones from BYU. We eventually snuck the goods into the classroom. More goods, these ones inedible, were brought into the room—blankets, lots of them.
I was sort of confused, as I didn’t believe that I would be having anything to do with these blankets, but soon we were instructed, very aptly I might add, by Charla on the art of chalking and cutting blankets for quilt making.
I set to chalking, and soon I was thinking about how to most efficiently and quickly mark a blanket. All interest in conversation waned as carpal tunnel began to sink into my joints, beautifully biting under my skin with every stroke of the chalk(this is, er, poetic exaggeration). I was tossing blankets left and right to eager and awaiting scissor bearers. It felt great to do something that requires some elbow grease, something more tangible, even if on a small scale.
I walked away from that room, blanket slung over shoulder (just kidding), not knowing what might become of those other blankets, but satisfied in having done something. I slept better that night.
Paradigm Shift...
Life experiences
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Good to the Last Drop
Man of La Mancha
One of my favorite novels is Don Quixote. It is a book about a man who can see what no one else can because of the books he has read. Sometimes he is referred to as crazy. Chasing windmills, mistaking a shaving dish for a knights helmet, and treating a servant girl with loose morals as a virtuous princess are his crimes. A priest, his family, and most others we read about in Cervantes’s classic have chosen to remain in what we conveniently term reality, and thus feel obligated to try and cure the hero of the novel with a sort of reality check. The hero of the work dies shortly after those around him end his crusades.
At a first glance the work is very comical. The hours spent reading the novel in the HBLL were spent trying to control the laughter provoked from the book’s hysterical episodes. After a closer look at the work I l realized that each of us has become a Quixote of our own style, seeing only what our experiences have told is reality. Quite regularly the opinions and views from any one person’s reality don’t play well with those of a different person. Whether it is about how to hold an accountability forum, a decision to split up committees half-way through the year, or choosing the games to play at the opening social, we are not always going to see eye to eye with those around us. The realities we see, like Quixote’s, will sometimes clash with what is popular. With this in mind, each of us has two responsibilities: to form the best understanding of reality we can by pulling the most from each of our experiences, and then making allowances for the discrepancies in the numerous realities of those around us.
In Quixote’s reality he saw the Princess Dulcinea. Others saw a lowly servant. Are we becoming or killing the Quixotes of our time?