Saturday, May 31, 2008

Jesus Freaks, Out in the Streets

Today was an interesting day. After spending a beautiful afternoon in Little Italy, I came home to watch the news - only to see that I'd forgotten about the outdoor market in Dundas Square. I quickly grabbed some music, my camera, and a Tall Sidamo and was on my way.
The market was fantastic, as usual. A plethora of culture, diversity, and some of the best ethnic foods found in one square block. She was a bit too crowded for me, so I thought I'd leave and check out the rest of Yonge St. while the sun was still out. Until I stumbled upon something, conflicting.
There was a young man named Sean. He is pictured here holding a bible. This boy travelled all the way from Hamilton to preach the word of God, quite possibly in the most agressive way possible. Sean donned a plastic sandwich sign that, more or less, threatened nearly everyday passerby, that they were going to Hell. Drunks, masterbaters, gamblers, cursers, rapists, Muslims, catholics, money lovers, sports fanatics, liars, homos, adulterers, sodomists, skimpy dressers, pot smokers, drinkers, and overall Sinners, were all condemmed to Hell. Take a good look at that list again. I'm almost certain I accomplished half of that list before lunch today.

This man stood on his stool, answering questions, and defending Jesus Christ to the fullest. To be honest, I've never seen an individual with more cajones than this one. With one of the biggest multi-cultural festivals only feet away from him, with "sins" such as Muslim and "homo" written on the board, I wouldn't be surprised if Sean was pronounced dead by now. When I first approached the scene, I saw maybe two dozen people surrounding him, which later escalated to over one hundred angry sinners. One teenager even went out of his way to unconver the preachers name, only to reply, "I'm coming back with a sign that says 'Sean is a fucking asshole.'"

To put the situation into perspective: imagine three people surrounding a person that loves what they're doing and another hundred who hate what you're doing - kind of like Bush. Blacks, whites, muslims, sluts, gamberls, jews, and everything in between looked upon this man with a hate that I can never comprehend. Questions, questions, questions. Every question was answered with a direct psalm from the bible, completely ignorant to the feelings of those around him. Not only was he offensive to the eyes, but ignorant to the fact that a group of Muslim followers had set up a booth only feet from his presentation. I stayed for nearly two hours watching this guy. This guy had John Wayne's balls, if John wore a crucifix around his dick. There was always a feeling present that all hell was about to break loose, and just as one girl cussed this man out after being told she was dressed premiscuously, I left, fearing for this guys life. Imagine, being a Muslim and having a single individual tell you that you are going to Hell. John Wayne's crucified balls alright. RIP SEAN.








all photos by AndyPosted by Picasa

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Recent Work and a Sketchbook Peepshow



Lately, I've been dabbling in other areas of landscape portraiture. I'm not sure what caused this transition; whether it be a feeling of progression or a discovery of the new medium itself, but it has been a lot of fun so far. I have, however, been working a lot more in my sketchbook. This has really allowed me to expand and realize what I do and do not look for in a successful landscape piece.
I still continue to follow the main aspects of my past work: flat horizon, large scale, simple palette, symmetrical, geometric and fantastical. The only real differences, besides being strictly black and white is the tone, texture, and how much more relaxed and inaccurate I've allowed these pieces to become. A true inspiration for these works came from gestural life drawings, made from similar materials. These paintings, or drawings (pawings? draintings?) are done quite quickly as well; usually in a matter of days.
I have completed two full sized works on canvas and I'll try to get photos up as soon as possible.
We'll see how far I take these. In honesty, the only thing holding me back from producing dozens of these is how costly the canvases can be, especially since most push six feet in length.











The writing on the left is pretty nonsensical. If you have trouble reading the scratchy font, it usually reads how I feel about certain ideas, such as how I find birds cliche and how elderly women love corn row fields.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Recipe to make the perfect Andy

Andy

Recipe serves many.

Dish will last several years. Ideal conditions very from cold, dark studio spaces with little air circulation to fresh blue-skies.

First, you need a roasting pan. This dish is cooked slow, so no rush. You will need a long, lean cut of meat to begin. Something nice and fresh, well-marbled, with a backbone and drumsticks. Cook with the heart in, as well as the eyes for vision. Throw in some potatoes if necessary.

The seasoning to this dish is where the importance lies. You should gather:

equal parts control/spontaneity
1 heaping tablespoon of Gent (usually in season)
1 teaspoon of respect for elders and mailmen
a pinch of punctuality (not always in season)
1 tablespoon of flaw
equal parts street smarts and book smarts
1/4 tablespoon of responsibility (use sparingly)
2 teaspoons of sugar
2 teaspoons of style (mostly wasted on the Moonwalk)
1/4 cup self confidence
1 cup of reason (make sure it's not Reisen)
1/2 tablespoon ignorance
no added cheapness, it will only sour the dish
mix with 2 cups Olde English and 1 teaspoon diced Ginger (again, use sparingly)

Mid-way through cooking, paint on Friends and Family Sauce. An essential element to the success of Andy.

This meal stands alone on the table. Artistic in presentation, Andy will keep you full for days, and there's plenty of leftovers for everyone. Quick, easy, and reliable. Garnish with parsley.


p. 38








day of birth


Things just have their way of changing over time. It seems like every time you turn your back on something, this unavoidable change catches up with you, ready or not.
The other day was my birthday.

I remember how it used to be. There was cake, candles, pinatas, pizza, friends, family, and lego. All my invitations were sealed with macaroni and my DQ cake was already in the freezer. We used to go for long walks in the park, because they were days of acceptable stains on my clothes. I used to play with my grandma's wrinkled elbows, and my uncle would throw me in the pool. Things have a funny way of changing over time.

These days, things are very different. The parties get smaller, the cake disappears with the cards, and that macaroni remains on my shelves.

Today is not my birthday.