Painting (Color Study) -- Acrylic, Canvas

Drawing / Collage -- Pencil, Marker, Tape, Paper

Drawing / Collage -- Pencil, Pen, Compressed Charcoal, Paper

Drawing -- Powdered Charcoal, Compressed Charcoal, Vine Charcoal, Paper

Drawing -- Quill Tip Pen with India Ink, Paper

Drawing -- Ballpoint Pen, Marker, Paper

Drawing -- Pencil, Paper

Drawing -- Marker, Paper

Drawing -- Oil Pastel

Self Portrait Study III

>> reflection from car window

Self Portrait Study II

Self Portrait Study I

notes to self:

I am writing this here to remember it.

Today I imagined roadkill on the side of the road made by me out of garbage found on the side of the road. Then I imagined a group of people looking at this "roadkill", studying it. Studying what it is, and what killed it. In this scene, the road is busy with cars. Cars create roadkill. These cars slow down as they pass the concerned surveyors of the art. The people in the cars are repulsed by the scene of a dead animal and yet somewhat remorseful, further continuing the concern initiated from the crowd. More people gather. Some are passerbys finding the event attractive. Others were previously aware of the event. They came to give their regards to this "dead animal" on the side of the road. They give their regards to littering. They give their regards to the inpact of technology, the reality and responsibility of driving, and the modern relationship we have formed with animals. Further more, it is a nod to the power and authority we have issued to ourselves. The power of technology, the power of egocentricism - the power over a lesser life form.

But people are hit by cars too. Maybe there will be "roadkill" on the otherside of the street too, in human form. What more is a dead animal to a dead human? Both indicate the recklessness of power and control and uncontrolled decisions. Are we killing ourselves with indulging in technology and the set satuses we have created. Animals > humans is a cast system, traffic is a set web of rules and laws, we have created it so that cars are almost a neccessity (and to have it not, we have to completely change our lives to somehow fit inbetween the society we are fit into).

all this to think about from roadkill...

and I barely even mentioned recycling yet.

---

if any one has seen art like this before by another artist, please let me know.

Fear of Greatness

undetermined title

emerging machines

Kite

>> huge dimensions

Personal Landscape

This is the outline to my first assignment for metals class. It's a personal landscape project. Our workspace is 8 1/2 x 11 x 5... 5 is the width. The idea is to create depth using layers. From front on, this will (hopefully) be a good piece. I'm worried, though working with 3dimensional space that the work will be odd from the other angles. Although, this aspect might work well with the piece as well. For my landscape I chose the stone arch bridge. I took the design from a sketch I did but then abstracted it using style that I usually draw and doodle with. Luckily this style works well with the material that we have to use for this project which is small steel wire and rods. My original sketch had the Minneapolis skyline on the back left side of the sculpture but I like the more simple design and focus on the bridge. With this being my first piece I'll have ever welded, I'm sure it will be far from what this sketch is. I'm an artist who improvises, so this idea is bound to change.

Dear Mr.Pittman

My life. It would quite be the same if you were to tell me yours. Or to hear it from your neighboor. However, I will tell as you wish. I know you will learn something new. Life is all life but we all hold a different perspective.

Milk was too expensive for Mom then, living in our house on Alta Vista Street. It was a rare occassion to actually get real milk (as in real, I mean milk from a grocery store). This one time, I remember well. I, too small to sit comfortably at the table, sat my butt on the kitchen chair and hung off the table with my arms folded and my chin barely able to rest on top. Mom had set out three bowls and spoons with a box of cereal on the table. I was reading the back of the cereal box. My brothers were around the house somewhere, doing shit. How was I suppose to know what they were doing at that age. Mom was on her way to the nearby grocery store getting milk. Real milk. We were all - as in all, I mean my brothers - sick of drinking that home made condesed milk shit. Mom had been making that to save money. You know what I'm talking about, that powdery stuff that comes in a box. Milk in seconds! Just add water! Yes. Gross. If you like chalk with your cereal, you're good. I was young enough to eat it with my cereal, afterall, it was mostly all I had known besides my mom's breast milk. My brothers on the otherhand, had had their last straw. For dinner, they insisted real milk with the cereal. Insisted.

My feet dangled off the chair, far from the stained yellow linoleum. My stomach was growling in discomfort and hunger. The back of the cereal box was getting boring. My brothers would pass through the kitchen on occasion, without any word. I don't know where Dad was. I just waited. Nothing to do. I waited for the milk. My cereal bowl was as empty as my stomach. Thoughts traveled through my young brain. Time passed. Just waited.

Mom got home finally. She had a gallon of milk. Real milk. Finally. She yelled to my brothers to come get dinner and they took their time to get there - they had their own lives. Dustin made his bowl first. Put way too much cereal in the bowl. Added the milk. Smelt the milk. Tasted the milk. Threw a goddamn FIT. It was the condensed milk again - in disguise. Mom had just only filled an old milk container with her own home made version of milk. The kitchen when up in turmoil, with my brother shouting at my mom, my mom shouting back, Keith fought a bit, although, ultimately didn't give a shit. I ate my own bowl of cereal. Was full. Went on through my life as a kid.