Biggie Arts vs Lil Arts - A fools paradise

(note: This was inspired by reading a piece of Hugh MacLeod’s new book in progress.  I have often thought about this and it’s been heavily discussed within my inner peer group, because, well, why the hell not)

I have a friend who draws mini cartoons everyday.  He puts them up on his instagram, or website and releases them out into the world, several times daily.  It's effective, he is fast and consistent and his fan's appreciate it.  They share it, link to it.  

At first, I advised him to not go crazy with supply.  You know, hold out a bit.  I think I was a bit off on that one.  But, I’ll still argue with consistency either way, as long as you keep em coming.  Too much too fast and burnout city man, like whoa, you dig.  Too little too slow, and you're a bum.  Or, a dinosaur of old art.  

Scarcity hardly works these days like it once did, unless you established that record a decade or so ago, because frankly, abundance and choice is out of control.  And waiting is not the name of the game anymore.  I WANT IT NOW!  That’s your little inner child yelling at you.  Or, your actual child screaming in your ear.  Either way, we are in the sphere of the NOW.  Eat a spoonful, and lay back down on your coach.  It’s not going away fatass (that was clearly a subconscious dig toward the “imaginary” mailman who hasn’t taken my outgoing mail in the new place I’m staying at for a few days). 

Going back to my friend, he does what can be labeled as “lil art”.  Edward Gorey (the recipient of a recent Google honoring), Charles Schultz, Hugh MacLeod and many many other people do lil art.   Of course, the term “lil” is subjective and based on context.  Alan Moore does “lil art” compared to Dostoevsky.  But, what the hell does that mean anyway?  I’d like to define it as somehow both related to length of time to produce, and production costs.

I have a directing friend who just wrapped principal photography on a 3 million dollar movie.  He does “biggie art” compared to a Sunday editorial cartoonist, but even his 3 million dollar movie doesn’t stack up to Kathryn Bigelow’s ZERO DARK THIRTY when we talk about biggie in terms of size.   Still,  we are familiar with tons of names of biggie art.  They are part of our folklore.

The real question however is, is there are a difference in what that piece of art ( or gift if we are being generous)  provides between these two places of the biggie and lil.  Between a Charles Schultz or an Orson Welles or a Leo Tolstoy?  

Aside from the medium, and its size, nothing.  This is not as simple as I'm making it out to be, but getting past the intellectual bullshitting, it all comes down to a FEELING.  And, quality.  It’s resonance to the individual.

How did that MAKE ME FEEL.  Was I moved?  Did it connect?  

And, when it comes to that, certainly lil art has affected me just as much as biggie art. 

These days, so much of biggie art is squeezed under pressure.  The zeitgeist, especially now treats everything on the same leveling field.  So, lovers of the biggie, don't forget to look into the lil once in awhile.

Even as far as filmmaking is concerned, look into your lil cousin, television to tell you times a changing.  “Small is the New big” as that luxurious nerd brain Seth Godin states.  He probably means something else, but this isn’t his space now, is it.

Ball So Hard.

If you are an outlier, outlie the fuck out of the world.  Outlie so hard, that people can't look away.  

The other choice is to follow the herd, looking to fit in with whatever is the flavor of the moment. 

It just so happens that the mass market flavor of the moment(long drawn out moment) is REALITY TV stars.  Drink that sugary, sticky, coagulated syrup.  Just make sure you don't choke on it.

​An Image that may or may not have anything to do with the words above. 

The Good Girl.

She was a good girl.  Full of the ethereal and effortless.  An experiment, named one of Darwinian's favorites.  A winner as far as any society was concerned.  

But, she had secrets.  And without a pass into the frontal lobe, the rest looked just like a lizard.  

"Even the best ones look convoluted on the insides", said a grizzled beast downing his tall can inside a black hole, once.  

"Not always, but sometimes", I fancied.

Be careful when you envy perfection.  

​Image courtesy of the artist, Ali Sabet © 2013

Tools of our Childhoods

My first computer was an IBM XT Clone.  It's expense rivals a pretty,  customized new Imac, notwithstanding inflation.  This was the greatest gift I had ever received (and it probably still holds as the most expensive) and I'm sure, my newly American parents thought it would give me a major headstart into the new world (thus, the ability to pay them back sooner then then later).

It had a VGA monitor.  My cousin got the Super VGA.  I was seething with envy.

The startup screen was MSDOS.  In those days, we all needed to learn a bit of programming to make that thing do anything.  Wish I stuck that one out a bit longer then a couple years, before the outdoors, BMX bikes and sports took center stage.

It clocked in at around 6MHZ.  It had a turbo button which threw it all the way up to around 8MHZ.  I don't remember the RAM capacity, nor the hard drive.  I'm guessing those where in the very low MB's and kB's range?  Maybe?  I don't want to check google.  I remember it a certain way, and hell, that's the way it should be.  After all, its my memory, I own it.

So, here this is what I might be getting at.  Isn't it nice to remember things without the NEED for precise accuracy?  I mean, I enjoy my childhood memories to exist in the imagination, not the facts.  Facts are boring, uninspiring.  Sometimes of course, they should be the first choice.  But not always.     

A little space between that objective and subjective lies the truth.  It feels right.  It's more personal that way.  

_______________________________

​Post Script Additional Anecdote:

I was given a gift of THE NEVER ENDING STORY during a Christmas party.  I was ecstatic   It was one of my favorite childhood movies.  It was fucking glorious when I first saw it.  I remembered all those magical moments.  Suffice to say, watching it in my adult world, in an adult loft in downtown LA, with my adult perspective was anything but magical.  Not to say that I didn't enjoy the experience fully, but it might have been better to leave the memory as was, then dilute it with all that junk and grime on our adult lenses.  I know some of you nostalgic nut heads can frame these things better then I.  Good for you.

The Book Queue as a Metaphor for Whatevers?

Sitting in front of me on a small coffee table lays Murakami's THE ELEPHANT VANISHES.  It's been sitting in front of my eyes for about 3 months. 

But, on that same coffee table lay several (12 in all) other books besides Murakami's.  They range the gamut from bestsellers to obscure works.  Most are NON fiction. (something that I've only recently gotten deeply into)  

Sometimes, a strange habit overtakes my rational mind.  It goes something like this. 

a) Buy a book to read.

b) Find other books to read by serendipitous occurrences.

​A photo of books in a non-compliant aspect ratio.

c) Find those "other books" immediately. Start at the nearest bookstore, order the rest and start on those post-haste.

d) Repeat this step with some of the new books, but not all.  

e) Regain some composure.

f) Get back to the original book, many, many months later.

g) Pat myself on the back for sticking too it eventually and reading the one I was "supposed" to start with.

Now, I learned a very important lesson in life not so long ago.  "Don't think of life in linear's", said a friend, while holding a very expensive glass of whiskey. 

It took me awhile to figure that one out.  I sat on it, played with it, tried to fit it in.  It's simple, and sounds profound and it could be interpreted in many ways.  But, after awhile, it made perfect sense.  Say it to yourself.  

I AM A NON-LINEAR TIMELINE, homegirl.

PS: If your persistent, you will get back to that original book, and, if you got some grit, you'll even finish it.

A little flexibility, some stamina, and commitment can get you conquering your book queue.  Now, multiply that by X.  Something much, much bigger then what to read next.  

Pick Yourself

There is a line, oft repeated in Seth Godin's newest book, "The Icarus Deception" in which he simply states, "pick yourself".  This is a profound thought, and in the simplest language possible.  

Here, he is referring to people who are waiting for a chance in the sun (but instead, can choose themselves).  People who wait for some authority to point them out, to lift them up and place them square into the X at the end of the rainbow.  Problem is, this is the worst type of game, with the worst type of odds.

Now, Seth comes from a marketing background.  He understands the world of business, entrepreneurship, marketing, etc.  But he tries to bridge the gap to the arts.  In many ways, he succeeds.  But, in his fury of words, the actualities and nuances get swept under the rug.  

For example, while you can DIY anything, the cost of traditional narrative movie making is very high.  Even the tiniest budgets rival the seed money for a new start-up.  And while you might not be promised a return, the business world is pretty straightforward.

With that said, his phrase, "pick yourself" still works.  Because, if you don't, your not living in todays world. You're looking at industries and systems of the past, and for the arts, this is especially the case.  

Even with the high cost of movie making,  when you "pick yourself", you have a sense of control, and a vision for tomorrow.  This of course means that some compromises might have to be made.  

But, the numbers tell the truth (at least for now).  Movie making that you remember from your childhood, will not be the same business in a couple years, then it was for the last 50 years.  It is hardly any different from the record business.    

Shit has flipped, and hard.  So, pick up the camera, or remix what's already available.  Or simply, write your dreams down.  That way, you are on the start of the journey of picking yourself.  A place exists for everybody who tries.

The new model?

-Does a new model exist?
-Does it have gatekeepers, and if so, who are they?
-Does an audience exist?
-If so, do you create the audience or do you find them?
-Why do you do what you do? (be specific)
-Do you hold the same heroes in your "calling" as you did 1/3/5/10 years ago?
-Is your "calling" going to exist in 3/5/10 years?
-What's your great fear(s)? (don't be shy, this might be helpful if your not too cynical yet)
-What's your favorite color and why?

"The Harlem Shake" - Don't let the silliness fool you.

Is the “The Harlem Shake” some sort of indescribable turning point
in media?  What is the precedence?  You can call it silly, or funny, or
whatever else you’d like, but, rest assured, the engine behind The Harlem Shake is worthy of consideration.  Think about this; This little dance movement is much much bigger, both in participation and in reach than YOUR MOVIE, or YOUR MUSIC, or YOUR ART PROJECT.  And it’s not just for the little indies, this thing blows away the big boys as well; ie: The Hollywood Machine in terms action.

Think about that for a second.  Advertisers spend millions of dollars trying to get you involved with whatever it is they selling.  When was the last time a seemingly spontaneous participatory movement occurred at this level.  It takes time, effort, creativity and resources for people to join in.  And join in they do, for free.  

Remember the days when some item of fashion, or car, or dialogue from a movie made its place into the public sphere with lasting effect?  It was probably a very long, long time ago.  

So, whether you “like” The Harlem Shake or not, it’s a piece of conscious harmonizing that is almost impossible to buy with money.  Professional advertisers living in the old model can write it off, but, they’ll be writing off their own existence if they don’t consider the new models and how it affects the world we are living in today, not 40 years ago.  

And I understand that this is very short lived, but so is everything else these days.

The Post Process

Editing happens in two ways, much like everything else.  Moments of busy work, running through the motions, the habits, linear timelines and time frames; and then, you experience the solitude, those moments of reflection usually outside of sitting in front of a computer.    

It just so happens that in the seemingly innocuous rest period, a great deal of the major breakthroughs are birthed.  The moments in quiet contemplation, or when consumed in other daily happenings, perhaps during a jog, the shower, reading, in sleep or sometimes, doing nothing but sitting, in between mediation and nothingness (I guess you can plug in TV here if you like) are essential nourishment for the central brain computer trying to compartmentalize information, and give it structure and meaning.

If you're not open to such clarity, you will never get to those wonderful breakthroughs.  Busy work (productivity) is essential, but the capacity to go further is as important.  Cultivate the second part, and give yourself a little time to breath.  

One final note here: You can be productive without the breakthroughs, but you cannot have the breakthroughs without productivity.

Check List to Infinite

An observation that goes a little something like this -

Our "to do's" list fall mostly into two categories.  First up is "THE CHECKLIST’ER MASTURBATOR", a man/woman obsessed with the infinite busy nothings to the highest degree of pedantry, and the second, "THE BI-POLAR UP SWINGING ON A GOD COMPLEX"; a humanoid capable of all things and everything now, like right now.  

I find that on the occasions where I can find balance (center) I can get in the middle, and things generally get done at the rate and manner which is agreeable to universal laws.

A Dispatch from Mexico Seetea (or, 10 Line Items for a McNugget Breakdown of Mexico)

-Mexican food is wonderful

-Cuernavaca is a magical place; especially if you’re a foreigner and purchased a huge villa with a botanical garden, next to your tennis court.  Although, the natives I met where very proud of the city regardless of villa size.  The weather; “Eternal Spring Stylz”.

-I traveled through the Sierra Madre's, wherein it reminded me of one of my favorite John Huston classics; THE TREASURE OF THE SIERRA MADRE.  This was a real psychological comfort.  Later, I was told that what we drove through was the Sierra Madre del Sur, and that the one in the movie was the other range, know as Sierra Madre Oriental which was situated on the gulf side.  And yet still, another range north of the Sierre Madre del Sur exist’s, named the Sierra Madre Occidental.  So, count em, three Sierra Madre Mountain ranges in Mexico. Don’t ever forget it.

Mexico City - shot from ABC Hospital 

-The airport smelled like diarrhea from a newborn (this description was provided to me by an extremely competent Surgeon whom I was traveling with).  My report wasn't as specific, nor as nuanced.

-I stayed at an Airport Hotel one night out of scheduling necessity.  First time.  And certainly last time if I happen to visit Mexico City again.  See above for reason.

-Observed hundreds of open aired eateries throughout the city.  Like, maybe thousands.

-The majority of Mexicans I talked to believe that the drug cartel problem is mostly American propaganda.  It exits, but, "doesn't really affect regular Mexicans".

-Always take more ADVIL on trips then you think is necessary.

-A red eye flight, straight to a shoot is not as efficient as it sounds. But it is just as horrendous as it sounds. 

-Alaska Airlines has the youngest flight attendants I've found among the US airlines.  Does this have to do with union status (can I pose a question without the need to verify?)

In Paris, waiting for Godot. (10-26-12)

(originally written 10-26-12)

I've been out on assignment for the last week in Paris.  I've learned some things during this trip that’s dawned on me with more weight then the years previous.  Age does that, doesn't it.  Perspective is a fast track to the discovery of subjectivity in all human experience, and shit, the more of it, the better.  

Most of the things learned are of a personal nature.  I usually forget most of these insights once settled back into my norm, but still, its a good feeling and you can't take that away from me.

But, what I am most preoccupied with is the refinement of Parisians in aspects of society, compared to us Americans.  The dress code, the social habits, the little nuances.  We slobber over our apple pie, and they, with a fork in left hand, nibble at those little pastries with the delicacy of a surgeon.  Ironically, with all these refinements, Paris doesn't understand the concept of customer service.  And, this is NOT just my little opinion.  This is a known fact, like that of gravity, or the law of inertia (yes, i understand, we are past linear Newtonianism’s, but entertain me this one time).

Paris - shot from Hotel du Louvre

And, most important, the thing that I'm taking away from this particular journey, is the same as any of those recent trips I've taken recently, where, by necessity and a little willpower, I turn off the data on my GODDAMN SMART PHONE.   A wonderful thing happens after you survive the initial shakes of withdrawal.  A simple lesson we all intuitively understand; Life is better lived, then wasted eyeing a little screen, scrolling endlessly in the sea of public opinion, whose constantly engrossed in sharing a few of those tidbits of information and ideas that comes to ones head, with few if any conscientious filters. Ah, the pedestrian, mundane and irrelevant thought of the second. It’s gross desire for declaration!  I'm through with these pocket sized opinions and observations for the time being.  I never wanted them to begin with (is this really true), but, psychology has me (we, us) lacking self-control, gripped unconsciously, deep in a Pavlovian headlock because of a few loopholes of mind.  

See, you might not know it, but if your updating your social media accounts 20 time a day, or logging in 20 times a day its probably a solidified, honest to goodness habit at this point.  Your a little dog salivating at the ringing of the bell, telling you its lunch time, whether your getting a real treat or a trick, doesn't matter. 

Work.

ANIMALS has been busy. We successfully wrapped an UNDISCLOSED video yesterday that I co-directed with the talented Tom Flynn.  I would include a photo, but then, why give it all away.  Be patient friends.  In the meantime, go pick up that new MY BLOODY VALENTINE record.

CW and the rest of the slate

After going underground for a little bit of time, about to come up to the surface.  We are putting together an incredible slate of projects that will be the talk of the town.  Are you ready for the future?

ANIMALS

People keep asking, what the hell is ANIMALS.  Just hold on for a few more minutes.