My Life as a Conservative in Liberal Land

I am an artist, it is some what strange then, that I consider myself conservative. Here’s the thing though, I am against the government regulating a woman’s right to choose, I don’t like Fox News and I’m not offended by The Daily Show. I’m a feminist and I believe there’s a lot of work we still have to do before we actually see equal rights for not just gender but race in our society. I think the government should make up it’s mind as to whether marriage is a religious institution that it should keep it’s nose out of or a governmental one that it should keep religion out of.

Here’s the other thing. How I think these things should be accomplished and how a liberal thinks these things should be accomplished are not always the same. I feel that just because I don’t embrace the liberal political philosophy it doesn’t make me close minded. I don’t fly into a blind rage every time a woman gets an abortion. Yes, I don’t agree with her choice but I do think it’s her choice to make.

I’m surrounded by people who think that’s what I do because I’m a conservative. It is often addressed by blogs, talk shows and any other form of media where the news and politics is discussed the fact that the Fox News network is harmful to liberal philosophies and people because they take such an antagonistic stance toward anyone who does not wholeheartedly agree with them. Fox News has sort have become the conservative straw-man in any political argument and paints a grotesque caricature of people who ascribe to conservative political philosophy.

Politics is not my favorite topic of discussion with friends, family and the Internet at large. In my opinion, that is what I pay politicians for (with my tax money, I don’t actually have any politicians in my pocket…yet). Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep abreast of what’s going on. So yes, my liberal friends, I read your blogs, watch your news shows, listen to your broadcasts and manage to not act like a raging lunatic just because someone doesn’t agree with me. I would really really appreciate it if you would stop telling me to go away if I don’t like what you’re saying. I usually don’t like it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear it.

Because really, if you don’t respect someone else’s opinion, how can you expect them to respect yours?

The Internet is Distracting

Bored

I think it was originally my teacher, and later my mother that used to tell me only boring people get bored. And i am so bored. And so very boring right now. Other than marathoning Star Trek Deep Space Nine for the last three weeks, the most exciting thing that has happened was my brother butt dialed me on Sunday.

But I've decided to go do something tomorrow. Anything. I don't know yet, but it will involve the need to wear pants. Something I've been sorely lacking for the last month or so. Maybe I'll go be one of those dweebs at the coffee shop writing a novel. I mean, why not? I've put in job applications to everywhere that will give me one so my days are mostly just filled with waiting to go to sleep again.

Grah. I wish I was still a teenager and satisfied with playing video games all day.

Technical Difficulties and Subtle Sexism

So once I get my camera and computer on speaking terms again, I will make up for the lack of posts this week.

In the mean time I thought I'd share with you a great example of what I mean when I talk about the subtle sexism that permeates our society. And since a picture is worth a thousand words, here's a two thousand word essay on the subject:

Japanese Cover to a Star Wars book

At first glance, you're probably thinking "what sexism?" There are two Jedi here prepared for battle and the woman (Mara) is actually wearing clothes. But...

Altered cover submitted to Escher Girls by nelc

Would you look at that. Suddenly Mara looks more like she's ready for battle and less like she's dancing. And Luke when from Jedi master to cheesecake. Huh.

This along with many others of terrible portrayal of women in media can be found on Escher Girls, a tumblr dedicated to "...female characters in impossible or ridiculous poses or with disturbing anatomy because the artist needed to show teh sexy."

Experience

Recently, due to lack of better things to do with my day, I've been watching a lot of anime with a friend of mine. We've been rewatching a lot of series I saw oh so many years ago in high school when I was first introduced to anime, including Chobits and Trigun.

I so very distinctly remember when I first saw those cartoons, wishing I could draw so well. Now that I've been through art school, oh. my. gosh. There are so many things that are just wrong. And I've come to realize I hate cell shading, I much prefer flats and a higher frame rate to 'shadow'. The biggest problem with anime is  the low frame rate, programs often use one still image and just animate the mouth. This means the characters have zero facial expressions. Which is why the voice acting always sounds terrible. I used to think it was English dubbing, but no, I realized the reason it seems so terrible sometimes is because it is extremely difficult to match voice emotion when every character looks like they just came from a botox appointment.

Dominique the Cyclops, how do your shoulders work? This makes no anatomical sense. Seriously, try and imagine her body under the clothes. Creepy as all get up, right?

If it wasn't for hairstyle, all the women in this picture would look exactly the same. They are one wig shop adventure away from a hilarious mistaken identity episode.

It's not that I don't like anime now, although I think I have a distinct preference for American animation over Japanese as far as character design, attention to detail and acting (facial expressions help so much). It just that my eyes, and judgement have changed with experience and I find that so interesting. Culture may extol the benefits of youth (particularly for women), but I wouldn't go backwards for anything. Mostly because I am less of an idiot as I grow older and I'm quite proud of that.

Random Word Generated Fridays: Contradiction

Aaahh contradiction. One of my favorite things to do. I think a lot of people around me believe I do it to be argumentative or that I enjoy playing the devil's advocate. My reasons for being contrary most of the time is it makes people think. There are dozens of ways to get people's gears turning without getting them hot under the collar, but I don't find them nearly as effective or quick then making them argue their point.

This is a tactic my professors often used in art school. They always would rip apart a students work so they would have to defend their decisions. This quickly weeded out artists who would just stick their pencil to paper and start drawing without a plan. Which is a hint. Good artists always plan. A painting is a well thought out idea at it's very birth.

Of course now I have difficulty saying the word without a faux Scottish accent thanks to the Starburst commercials.

Adventure Day: Nine Days Without Coffee

Alright, so not exactly the photo essay of the awesome places I explore I usually give you but it was an adventure. As stated in my post "Caffeine Withdrawal" I gave up caffeine for nine days because, well, I was having problems. It went a little something like this:

Day 1: Well. This isn't so bad. No symptoms as of yet. Maybe I was over-attributing my headaches to the coffee. It could have been stress. Oh well, I'll just keep going since it's probably a healthy idea to detox the caffeine in my system anyways.

Day 2: AAAAAAAAAAAAA! The PAIN. This is the MOTHER OF ALL HEADACHES EVER. WHY? WHY! WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHY!!!!!!!

Day 3: I hurt everywhere. What the &$#%! was I thinking? Who does this to themselves? Me. That's who. I'm a &$#%! idiot.

Day 4: Silent weeping when I realize my pain relief medicine has caffeine in it.

Day 5: I lost this day somewhere. I seriously went to sleep Tuesday and woke up Thursday or something. No idea what happened to Wednesday. None.

Day 6: I should clean the kitchen. No. Wait. The bathroom. LET'S GO FOR A WALK! My laundry needs to be done. OOO! KITTY! Hey! What's that shiny thing? LOOK AT THIS MAGNIFICENT ROCK. LOOK AT IT! Did I leave the stove on? (The answer was yes, yes I did...derp)

Day 7: Woke up, walked down stairs, took nap on couch. Woke up, ate bowl of cereal, took another nap. Woke up, watched TV, took nap. Woke up, went to bed.

Day 8: 36 hours 21 minutes and 30 seconds until I can have coffee again...36 hours 21 minutes and 29 seconds until I can have coffee again...36 hours 21 minutes and 28 seconds until I can have coffee again...

Day 9: Maybe if I play video games all day I won't notice HOW SLOW TIME SEEMS TO BE PASSING

Day 10: COFFEE MY LOVE! Let us never be apart again <3

I never want to go through that again. Never. It was awful. The most surprising thing is that even when the symptoms of withdrawal subsided, I still wanted coffee. I did not realize how much a part of my life the drink had become, often substituting a large cup of java for meals or using it as a motivational tool to get something done like chores or homework. Even as I sit here typing this I am being kept company by a travel mug of coffee.

Although I will probably never quite again for anything short of religious or medical reasons, I am moderating my intake of caffeine now. I'm giving up the Diet Coke permanently along with most other caffeinated sodas (the exception being Taco Bell's Baja Blast Mountain Dew because, delicious) and am only brewing one 32  oz pot of regular a day with decaf coffee making itself a new staple in my pantry. I learned a lot about myself during this experiment and probably a lot about addiction.

This Ain't Yo' Momma's House: The Myth of Later

There are a lot of things about keeping house that I learned when I acquired a household of my own. Tips and tricks for making chores easier, things look cleaner and stretch budgets further. The single most important thing I learned though, was the myth of later.

As a teen I was constantly frustrated when my parents would hassle me to do the dishes or mow the lawn. It wasn't like I wasn't planning to do it, I just didn't want to right then. I would do it later, after I read one more chapter or wrote one more poem (yeah, I was one of those teens) or beat the water-temple.

When I moved into my first apartment, one of the things I was excited about was being able to do my chores when I wanted to. There is a fatal logic flaw there. I could wait a million years and I will never want to do chores. There will always be a more interesting book, exciting video game or sardonic couplet to pursue.

Dishes piled in the sink, cobwebs collected in the corner, laundry splayed all over the floor. Sure, once in awhile I would realize I was living in a sty and go on a cleaning binge, but it was not a consistent state. I was not alone in this affliction. I have seen houses where 'later' never comes. Dishes that have been in the sink so long civilizations have risen and fallen subsiding off of 6 month old chicken dinner. Bathtubs mold has eaten away the caulk and now the wall behind is rotting away. Toilets literally covered in crap. Still, the people living in these conditions continue to lie to themselves: "I'll do it later."

I finally realized I was lying to myself about later (after I learned to identify exactly what rotten chicken smells like). Chores are something you have to plan to do weekly. For me, that means setting a day for it. Adding it to the schedule with definite time and date instead of the nebulous "later". Granted this usually means things like vacuuming when I run out of underwear and have to do laundry and cleaning the bathroom on garbage day for me since I don't do the calendar date thing so well, but it's a specific moment.

So this is my first housekeeping advice to my fellow twenty-somethings: "Later" is a lie. Unlike the cake. The cake is delicious.

Georgia

Voice Recorder >>

So I got introduced to this website recently and have been sending songs back and forth with a friend because we're dorks. I thought I would share my wonderful and off-key voice with you people because I know my audience. My audience is my mom. (Hi Mom!)

On a related note, I need some suggestions for new artist crushes. Heck, I'll even take guest articles at this point. If ya'll could hook me up with links to someone who's artwork makes you go "Hngh" it would be much appreciated!

Caffeine Withdrawal

As some of you know (and the rest of you do now too, yay!) I decided to do a little caffeine detox starting Thursday. The reason behind this is it was taking two pots of coffee and several cans of Diet Coke just to stave off the headache.

First stop was a little research. Caffeine stays active in the system for six hours, but withdrawal symptoms can last anywhere between 2 and 9 days. I decided to cut the java cold turkey for nine days.

I had no idea how hard it is to not drink coffee. Even without the negative side effects of not ingesting my daily dose of java it's hard to go without it in the morning. There's nothing like the flavor or aroma, and there fore no replacement.

So far I'm on day four. It isn't fun, but it's getting better. I'll be back with a full nine-day report when I finish this little dietary experiment. But until the headaches, inability to focus and joint pain go away (all withdrawal symptoms. Fun, right?) I doubt I'll be getting very many blog posts in. Not any coherent ones at any rate.

It's Coming...

Are you ready? Classes are almost out and I think that means it's time for the return of Adventure Day. I know you missed it, and this once-weekly post thing is really cramping you're reading style, isn't it? So starting on the 30th not only will you be seeing the return of Adventure Day, but also New Artist Crush and Random Word Generated Friday. I'm also adding a new feature This Ain't Yo Mamma's House dedicated to my 20-something peers who are living on their own and continually confused as to why the dishes aren't disappearing from the sink.

Excited yet? I know you are.

How StarCraft Almost Turned Me Into A Hobo

So I was going through old blog posts (ah, memories), and realized that I had promised to tell you about my trip home from California, but never did. Bet you're still on the edge of your seats (or, you know, most likely not)

Since my buddies William and Nate were to return home without me, I had purchased Amtrak tickets home from Fresno to Chicago, then from Chicago to Ann Arbor where I was going to catch a ride home with one of my best friends and his mom.

Let me start with this: Amtrak is the most comfortable way to travel. Not the fastest, not the most convenient, but the most comfortable. It's also amazingly beautiful.

I will never understand people who think this is boring. Never.

Taking the train is a great way to meet people. I sat next to a woman from Seattle who used to work the switchboard in the Navy, then eventually was in counseling. She ended up asking for my e-mail to give to one of her grandsons. Whilst I'm glad my grandmother and mother don't do that to me (thank you by the way mom), I thought it was cute and acquiesced (and no, I never got an e-mail either). From Denver I sat next to a woman who ran a small newspaper and was in the arts. She slept most of the trip, but it was nice talking to her when she was awake since we had a shared interest in art.

Dear Internet...excuse me but, what are you doing?

So...I'm just going to go ahead and cross "pug" off the list of possible dogs I would like to own. There is no way I am sewing it a countess costume and I wouldn't want my dog to get an inferiority complex.

WHAT ARE THESE SHENANIGANS?!

Helga by Emily B. Lanczy

Guess who got fan art? It's almost like Legend of Helga is a real web-comic! Oh happy day!

Happy Valentines Day!

3 Videos for the quirkier sides of love:

Academic Rage

Defacing my textbook is the only way I have found to deal with Calc II

Math is the language of nature, it is how the world describes how it works. From how a flower blooms to how a bird flies. It is beautifully suited to this purpose and I love it for its elegance.

As a computer scientist I learn math because it is my job to teach nature to machines. As an artist I learn math because it is my job to teach nature to man.

Unfortunately, noble as my quest is to learn this language is, I am stymied by those that would teach it. I think they hate me. Or something. Seriously, Calc II is probably the most needlessly over-complicated math class I have ever taken. No wonder the fail rate is so high. Even the textbook has given up on trying to understand what's going on.

I'm like if Spock was played by the Incredible Hulk every time I try to do Calc homework.

And so, while I delve into this Lewis Carroll nightmare of numbers and no sense, I am comforted by a single thought: Someone already wrote a program that does this for me.

It's good to be in computer science.

I love you mom.

Who gave that spaz a camera?

A Unucorn with Rambo Hare

HAY GAIS! I DREWED YOU A PURDY PICTURE!

Actually, this is from February 25, 1992. My web-monkey over at Legend of Helga recently decided he was too embarrassed by my inability to spell he's decided to take it upon himself to digitally do all the lettering in the comics. I post this picture as proof that, despite evidence to the contrary, my spelling has improved.

Also my understanding of astronomy I can neither explain why there are two suns, nor fathom why there's one inside. What drugs was I on 6-year-old self? Where have you hidden them?

I kinda wanna draw a Rambo Hare now.

Well, There's Your Problem.

 Today I thought the reason the continuation of our family genetic code is totally up to my brother may be due to the fact that my knee-jerk reaction to realizing I'm being flirted with is to run away.

RUN AWAAAAAY

On the bright side, I have found "Hi, I'm a CS major" to be an incredibly effective pick up line.*

*Results may vary depending on gender

Never Before Seen

I was feeling nostalgic/waiting for MinGW to download/install so I don't have to go to the lab to do my C assignments (mid-semester CS student funk is... prevalent...ugh.) So I made the process go faster my having my computer do MORE things. Like pull images off a disc from 8 years ago when I was an exchange student in Taiwan...

I've never shared this images with anyone else and I thought now was a good time.

View of the apartment building from the MRT station

I love this video for a design standpoint. It delivers a lot of dry material in a fun and creative way that makes it both informative and entertaining.

As someone who has only recently gotten on the regular exercise wagon and frequently falls off, I appreciated this extra bit of motivation to get some movement in my day.

Accepting Rejection

Once upon a time I wrote occasional articles for the Finlandia University newspaper "The Roar". I was cleaning files off my mp3 player/flash drive and came across one of them. Since The Roar isn't widely distributed, I thought I'd stick a copy of the article here. I wrote this one sometime in the Spring of 2009.

Finlandia University International School of Art and Design annually sponsors the Student Juried Art Exhibit in which students may submit artwork they have done within the past year to be judged and accepted into the show. I have heard a lot of disheartened students talk about the sting of being rejected; I myself had four pieces of work rejected from this year’s show.

Perhaps being rejected from the Student Juried Show is the first brush with this new reality many students will encounter. Rejection has become one of the nasty words in our culture today, particularly when used in relation to children. In little league, everyone gets a trophy just for trying to play the game.  It sweetens the sting of defeat, but it also bitters the taste of victory.  These trappings of a perfect world begin to wear away as we get older.  The losing team at the Super Bowl does not also get rings; the loser of the Presidential race does not also get a “thanks for playing” term as president. Being allowed to lose has become a mark of adulthood.

Rejection itself has long been a part of the art world, and still is. There are many juried exhibits beyond the one Finlandia sponsors, many of which students are encouraged to submit their work to. Opinion columnist makes their trade by writing about art and whether they think it is good or not. Van Gogh never sold a piece while he was alive, although now they are traded for thousands of dollars. Almost every time a new art movement has arisen, it has been rejected and jeered by critiques.

Through rejection and harsh critiques I feel that art becomes stronger. If an idea or mentality came onto the scene unchallenged it would be weak and soon forgotten, but as artist and philosophers have to articulate a defense for it, it gains in strength and power.  It is the battles we fight and win that we remember and are most proud of.  That is why I came to art school at Finlandia, not to learn to make art that everyone likes, but to fight for the art that I like.

Just because my work has been rejected by this years panel of judges does not make me a bad artist, it does not mean I have failed or that all my work this year has gone to waste. It means that this year, three people happened to be judging the work who do not like my style or ideas. Others have complimented me on my work, in class when we had group critique, and outside of class by my peers and professors. I myself am proud of what I have made. I worked hard on them and am pleased with the results; it just so happened that three other people did not feel the same way.

So I will take my rejection and wear it with pride. I have been given an opportunity to defend my ideas, and I am no longer a child who needs a consolation prize.  I have an opportunity to prove my critiques wrong (hopefully before I die, like Van Gogh).  Yes, it taste bitter now, but all the sweeter it will make my victory when it comes.

As an update, all of my rejected work has been purchased. Getting into shows are nice, getting told people like your work through the language of commerce makes you feel like a real artist.