Archive | April 2016

It’s Nothing Without the Paper

An interesting thought I’ve been pondering in the background for quite some time:
 
I’m sick and tired of hearing people bash digital artwork and conceptual work as being something less than a sketch on paper. Absolutely done with it. And I’m talking about the work involving creating that which doesn’t exist, not hacking two photos you found on Google together to put another pony car on a set of off-the-shelf rims. I’m talking pure conceptual work here.
 
Let’s consider a pencil and marker sketch versus one created on a tablet using pixels, or even a photograph: It’s not as though a photograph is providing you with a small, actual landscape or an 8×10-inch person to tote around; nor does the marker rendering, or even the digital sketch/painting. All are artistic REPRESENTATIONS of something, and require a certain set of skills to create with any success. Don’t get me wrong, there is a HUGE gap between the good and the terrible, and that comes down to knowing the tools (doubly-so for a digital artist seeking to emulate a traditional tool or media, as that artist needs to have experience in physical AND digital media) and using them as a craftsman should. There is good art in any medium, be it sculpture or painting or drawing or photography or motion pictures and more. Ability and drive and vision aren’t limited to one tool, and if you think that they are, then you are severely limiting your outlook.
 
The digital stuff suffers because it’s created using a bunch of ones and zeros and can be wiped from existence with a key stroke, but it has the ability to exist everywhere. You can scan an analog piece and share in that instant, global sharing, much as you can with a digital photograph… And you can lose the original by spilling coffee on it as well.
 
Oddly enough, each is nothing without the paper it’s presented upon. So do tell me again where digital art is some lesser form because doesn’t exist until it’s on paper. And good luck sharing that original analog piece on social media without scanning it into bytes of data. Tell me how digital “ruins” the art. Go right on ahead.
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Editor’s Notes. Again.

Excerpt from the editor’s email, Sunday Morning Mood Killer/Everyone is a Critic/This Really Goes Against the Whole ‘First Day of Spring’ Deal edition:
“I have taken the liberty of once again removing the line: ‘Having only been recently exposed to the English language makes his appointment to United States Poet Laureate (Southwestern Limerick Division) all the more impressive’ from your ‘biography,’ as documentation of the alleged appointment appears to be little more than you responding that the ‘burden of proof is on your ass for questioning such an accomplishment in the first place,’ and that if I would like to ‘continue enjoying the lavish lifestyle that the retainer fee provides, along with the gift subscription to Cat Fancy Magazine‘ that I would ‘recognize my place in the universe’ as being ‘little more than some chubby girl whose poetry is so bad that she has to eek a living by proofreading the work of others’ would probably not stand under close scrutiny.

Also note that the twenty-seven page footnote regarding an ‘asparagus-like pee with no recollection of having eaten the vegetable in the previous day or two’ and it’s apparently ‘having something to do with the old lady that sneezed near me’ and your subsequent reference to yet ANOTHER footnote describing some psychological disorder which ‘the olfactory-borne memories of mothballs, boiled cabbage and Lemon-Scented Pledge, along with the visual of doilies’ has left you with (and that you are “currently self-medicating as a remedy for” using the “remainder of the Enzyte free samples crushed into a fine powder and mixed with flat Coca-Cola to form a paste” which you then explain – in excruciating detail over the course of sixty pages – the process of “spreading the paste over your mid-section, paying close attention to the belly button region” because, and I quote, “that’s where the little bastards put the probes to avoid detection, and the resulting wound provides a faster path to the bloodstream,” which I can only assume is a reference to Chapter 7.4086.3.6.1 – which many may point out appears PRIOR TO CHAPTER TWO – ‘Abs of the Space Gods,’ in which you have drawn a diagram of your penis with the notation ‘Belly button actually appears slightly higher, but was too difficult to draw in detail considering the pushy nature of the Editor and her alleged ‘schedules’ and ‘other such bullshit’ so you drew it ‘hidden ever-so artistically just behind the head, which almost makes it look as though it has an afro’) has absolutely NO basis in scientific fact nor merit. We have been over this numerous times, and the publisher will not accept your “Belch That Tasted Like Bologna Even Though You Haven’t Eaten Any” conspiracy theory — used in a prior revision to support the previously noted ‘asparagus pee footnote,’ and now again here, even after our assumed agreement that it be stricken from the final copy as mere conjecture — as proof of it being a “natural phenomena that some hack like Bill Nye could explore in his down-time between flights to hippie conventions with that other sack of shit,” as it will surely lead to some legal action from his people (although I do agree that they may be, as you so eloquently pointed out in the elevator in which we stood but inches behind them, “moderately-functioning brain donors, and if not that then some inbreeding experiment gone both wrong AND right in some respects”). You are a difficult man to dislike, and for that reason I will continue to read and attempt to edit your work here. Please renew the subscription to Cat Fancy. And also, why not consider a nice gift box of chocolates for this chubby girl to enjoy while she crafts more bad poetry?”

Touche’, Editor Lady. Touche’.

Welcome to Hell: That’s a Triple Word Score!

Words are your friends. Especially when you take the time to spell the fucking things correctly.

I’d imagine that Hell, for many people anyway, is just a never-ending Scrabble tournament. Or in many cases, a round of “Wheel of Fortune” featuring only palindromes with silent consonants, or phrases with an apostrophe.

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