Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Friday, June 1, 2012

The Unofficial Escapescapes Manifesto

One night last year I was walking down Queen Street here in Toronto. It was about 1 a.m. and I was alone. Although it wasn't the weekend, the summer air had the city in full party behavior. As I approached a well-known Toronto bar, I noticed someone being thrown out the front door by security guards. As it turned out, I not only knew who this person was, but also went to high school with him. I won't mention his name because it is not important to the story.
As he laid on the sidewalk looking like a pile of dirty laundry, I walked up to him to see if he was okay. He looked up at me in his brutally intoxicated state and, without even saying hello, says
"Hey man, are you still doing those large prairie landscape paintings?"
"Yes" I said, and continued on my way.
I haven't spoken to him since.


To be completely honest, I have no idea why I make these paintings. To take it a step further, I am almost comfortable saying that I don't even like looking at other landscape paintings, even my own sometimes.


My very first landscape that I can recall painting was when I was 18 and in high school. At that point I had no real direction in my artwork and experimented with still life, abstract, color fields, watercolor and photorealism. In fact, my first landscape piece was actually a seascape done with acrylic (which I later sold to a teacher who hilariously claimed it was the finest piece she'd ever seen come out of the paint department). It didn't stop there. From then on, all I could think of was landscapes. My focus was channeled into not only the landscape genre, but a very specific, almost minimalist approach to rendering each image.

This shift will be approaching its ten year anniversary very soon. Dozens of canvases and numerous showings later, I'm still producing work in the same style as I did all those years ago. The thought of whether or not I've progressed has never crossed my mind. Yet now that I think of it, I suppose that the only progress I've made is in my technique and knowledge of the materials I use. The work itself remains on a constant thread of ideologies and subject matter. Yet what is the work?

These paintings are large: I don't operate well in small spaces because I am not a small person. I like the idea that the canvas size should be an extension of the dimensions of your body, and that your arms, hands, and eyes should have room to roam freely within that space. They are landscapes, yes. There is always a distinct horizon line, one that I can't help but keep perfectly straight. The colors and moods created are fictional, and the palettes I've used have ranged from the natural blue skies to alien tones such as greens, purples, and yellows.

Although they would readily be classified as landscapes, I almost consider them to be more of cloud portrait paintings, which is where I believe the main focus to be in most of the pieces.

As I mentioned in the story at the beginning, some people believe these paintings to be grounded in the prairie landscape. Although I can understand that they give this impression through their flatness, I would have to disagree on some level. When I arrange these works, I am usually more drawn to marsh-like landscapes than farmed land. I find that the presence of water within a landscape provides endless possibilities for reflections, compositions and dynamism. That's not to say that I don't draw inspiration from the prairies: let's not forget that I drove there with specific intent on studying them years ago.

So why do I make them? I'm still not exactly sure. I think it's because they just make so much sense to me. Also, I think the fact that I still make plenty of mistakes when I paint, and will often paint over work in progress or older work (my most recent painting has four others underneath it), keeps me wanting to continue and practice more and more. The title "Escapescapes" comes from this yearning to leave the urban life for nature, so they have that sense of escapism. Having said that, I don't use reference material for most of these works, and that they imaginative love letters to the outside world. They are generally beautified glorifications of landscapes: the colors used are by and large sweet and warm tones - speaking to the hopeful notion that the grass is greener on the other side.
I should also mention that the majority of my work was done within a room with no windows, no power, and no ventilation, so you can see why the idea of escaping to somewhere natural was a necessary idea.


With that in mind, I would be the first to tell you that these works are inherently selfish. I love that people have been moved by these paintings, but it is very personal work and I do it mainly out of self gratification. This is why I've usually had trouble with the idea of doing commissioned work from photographs.

For now, I will continue to produce these works for an upcoming solo show this summer. I have no desire to stop producing these works, and am fortunate to have new spaces to paint and hang work continuously.


 

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Forget Maui

In this next piece, I will demonstrate how the 1996 action film The Rock missed out on what could have produced an iconic catchphrase in cinema history, through the changing of only one word of dialogue.
 
For those of you who have no idea what movie I'm talking about (if you're a man, you would have to be part of the 1%), I'm talking about THE fucking ROCK. Although I first saw this movie before I was able to create any sort of critical judgments, I still love it just as much as I did during my prepubescent years. Just look at the title. It's probably one of the most manly approaches to a movie title ever. I have no doubt that in the first draft of writing, this film was called The Cock. It's basically action-dude-brofest-deluxe. Kind of like Predator, but with more shirts and less muscles.

The first half of the movie establishes Dr. Stanley Goodspeed (Nicholas Cage) as an engaged chemist pussy that has to convince John Mason (Sean Connery), who has been incarcerated for decades, to help in leading a special forces team into Alcatraz in order to stop a squad of U.S. Marines from engaging in chemical warfare on San Fransisco. It's acknowledged right from the start that John Mason is pretty much a huge salty bad ass who quantifies winners as those who "go home and fuck the prom queen". However, Mason does know the whereabouts of a microfilm which apparently contained all of the dirty secrets the U.S. government was hiding from over the last half-century.

The majority of the movie really centers on the dynamics and tensions between Mason's dick and Goodspeed's vagina, as they struggle together throughout the complex avoiding exlplosions and Marines. During the final minutes of the film, after deactivating the weapons and wasting the bad guys, Goodspeed and Mason share a moment together before parting ways(this can be seen below at around 4:30 in the clip). Mason recommends a place for him and his new wife to spend their honeymoon, which is somewhere in Kansas. Goodspeed replies "I was thinking Maui", to which Mason shakes his head, puts a piece of paper containing the resting place of the microfilm, and says "Forget Maui". 

I absolutely believe that this is a wasted piece of dialogue that could have been solidified into pop culture if he had just replaced "Forget" with "Fuck". Think about it: "Naa.....Fuck Maui". It just makes absolute sense in this scenario. Here we are, in the final moments of one of the best action movies of that decade, during maybe the only sweet moment in the entire 136 minutes of the film. A swear word hasn't been said in the longest consecutive stretch since the opening trailers, and here we have two grown men about to part ways after battling incredible odds together. Wouldn't it be just amazing to throw "Fuck Maui" in there just to cap off the character of John Mason? It's literally the last line Connery has in the film, and it really could have been so much more effective and true to his character if he just dropped one last bomb. The entire film has established that he's an asshole, so why try to hide it at the last minute?


You can almost hear him say it in the clip even. In fact, if you mute the clip entirely, it looks like he says "Fuck Maui". It really would have just been the perfect ending to the character's story, seeing as we know that he's now presumed dead and will probably continue a life of illegitimate bad assery.  

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

should have been a writer

Haircuts Are Kind Of Like Avocado's

By Andy Schmidt

Haircuts are kind of like avocado's.
You're excited when you first get it, and it usually costs a small fortune.
It's hard to pick which one you want.
It looks great, but there's something just not right about it.
You think it will grow faster by keeping it in the sun more,
and by the time it's just the way you want it,
it's fucking ruined.

The End.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

twitted

got myself a Twitter account.

come join me at www.twitter.com/andicles

Blair Whatmore would be glad to hear that nickname still lives.

happy trails.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

i knew it sounded familiar

I saw Avatar for the second time last night. Now although the movie is literally a cinemagraphic milestone, the plot is absolutely nothing to write home about. Although at first I thought it was a direct copy of The Last Samurai, somebody else pinned the plot on the head.


Friday, December 18, 2009

balance

I just printed everything I've written over the past year.

It's 57 pages and over 27,000 words.

It's actually quite liberating to have that much written material in your hands.

I think over the break I'll read and re-evaluate key points and questions, and maybe use those towards something bigger and more concise. Because, if I were to go back and elaborate on most of the ideas and questions presented, the number of pages could have doubled.

I'd love for some other writers out there to try the same, and maybe an exchange could be made.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

second thoughts

I just wrote, and deleted, a lengthy piece on ego-masturbation.

After realizing that it might offend some people, and that it was mostly just ranting and raving, I decided to keep it to myself.

Now, I know all about expressing yourself and why not to hold anything back, but some things are just meant to be kept in the old pumpkin I guess.

A lot of it came from watching American Psycho this afternoon I think, except when Patrick Bateman got mad, he killed people.

Friday, May 29, 2009

i used to rule the world

This video is simply brilliant. I swiped it after seeing it pop up on several blogs in the past few days. Give it a watch...



I was immediately drawn to this video because these 4-chord progression issues present themselves every day when my band writes and records. It's amazing how liberating, and confining the writing process can be, especially with melodies, because you have to surrender yourself to the fact that everything has been done once. All the hooks, every guitar part, every drum beat - it's all coming from somewhere whether you thought of it or not.

With this day and age, you have to be really careful what you write and what it sounds like, because some people aren't too happy when someone jacks their tunes, even if it is to just make a buck off the big guys.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

let's go places


I've always wanted to say it,
twenty tigress' and a single lion, in a jungle,
go ahead and arrest
i could use a little healing.
no big deal.
grrr, what a tone
what's the point?
it certainly isn't this.
this will never effect a "successful" person, ever.
you want to know why? because it's not in me,
it's in you.
Pain has always been of serious interest,
and anyone who knows anything about me knows this.
A little time to myself is good.
A little relaxation is great too.
Four wheels, rolling, laughing.
All for a nice couch, on pg. 87
God, that's fucking comfy.
A, perfect, space.
Doesn't that top-dollar taste good?
"Cuh-rear" makes a better backseat.
Did I mention there is an asshole on that couch?
A smack on the face,
a huge laugh, "in your room,".
healing has always been the most interesting part,
except for that part on my left arm. Christ, it hurts.
change everything, why don't you.
please baby, make your tits bigger.
Run from that post to that post.
okay, now from that post to that post.
Get some fucking control over those vices, already.
Although
Take a rest, I'll be back in fifteen minutes.
The Spaghetti Spoon.
The truth is, it's all been a huge lie and you've all been fooled.
Feel better?
Things have been going well.
moneymoneymoneymoneymoneythewordlosesallmeaningdoesntit.
get me drunk.
get me drunk!
Two words: twenty foot yacht
"oh shit, remember that forest of dandelions? hilarious!"
we could use one of those.
I love you.
GET YOUR OWN.
You look friendly, so I'm going to tell you a story.
Court-Appointed Attorney.
my dad can beat up your dad
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
"I dreamt of you on a hill with an axe and a keg."
Put up your dukes and I'll lose. It's a given.
Fuck the young hottie at work.
Constructive criticism: not for everyone.
Orgasmic and organic are not the same thing, so please stop jacking-off.
We're all out of power cords, hunny!
Distortion on ten, please.
When did my hard-drive get so soft?
"That's where the party is,"
Scented candles, your moms best pie, and a well-cooked tofurkey.
Let us just close our eyes and pretend we're somewhere else.

Friday, August 15, 2008

reminders

I've had a few things on my mind lately that I've wanted to make an attempt at elaborating on, explaining, questioning, and showcasing.
The purpose of this post is just to remind myself of things I'd like to write about in the future.
My Philosophies on Service
Nina Simone, The High Priestess of Soul
Things I'm Really Into At the Moment
The Studio
Young People
Alan Cross, Why Aren't We Friends?
Toronto Fans of Music, Clap Your Goddamn Hands
Attainable Coolness
Favourite Food Network Personalities, Part 3
Swearing Do's and Do Never's
George Carlin
5 Days Downstairs