Outsiders
Just rewatched "How to draw a bunny," the documentary on artist Ray Johnson. I really liked his art, and the backstory of an inscrutable person who used humor in his art, specifically mixed-media art that was one-on-one.
Sending conceptual art through the mail to people was more or less a big bulk of his life's work. If only he'd lived long enough to experience social media. He would have appreciated A.I. in the sense of using it as a tool to further communication.
The documentary does a wonderful job of portraying an ambiguous man as having a true purpose in life. It also does what I can only assume is an unintentional job of showcasing a lot of New York artists and art critics as being patronizing condescending jerks.
The only thing I could have done without was the cheeseball "hep cat," brush stick drumming. One segment would have been enough But as a constant soundtrack, it was a bit much.
Work has been kicking my butt and will continue to do so for the new few months. I like to think this is a creative story-telling incubation period where something is growing, even if it is imperceptible at this moment. At least that's what I'm telling myself.
Last weekend I had the pleasure of flying to Lincoln, Nebraska to judge an advertising award show. Lincoln is the land of puns. So may puns. Checking into the hotel, I stayed across from a female high school sports team, who were there to compete, although I am not sure what the sport was. I only know they had taped up purple construction paper on their doors, with corn kernels glued on it. Written underneath in glitter “We don't mean to be corny, but we're in Corn Husker Town."
I didn't have much time to explore any sites as it literally took fifteen hours to judge all the submissions. Both mornings I woke up at six and took a snowy walk around town to get a feel for the place, which is something I like to do whenever I see a new city. It's almost as if I try to imagine myself living there if even for a brief moment.
I'd never be able to move somewhere that small, especially a place so centered around college sports; It's not something I can relate to at all.
But I have to say, that part of the Midwest really lived up to the "nice folks," reputation. They really were nice folks, the lot of them.