GROWING UP...

If anyone is reading this...howdy again, I've returned. My last two blogs started off with me stating that I took a brief hiatus, and this one is no different. I was busy, sorry...actually no, I'm not sorry. I don't really have to make excuses for my time anymore. It's not that I'm trying to be an asshole, it's just that I finally realized something at 34 years of age:

"No one really really gives a shit about anyone except themselves."

And before I explain myself, let me just say amend the previous statement. There are people out there that care about others, but you will be hard pressed to find someone who will inconvience themselves to help you when you really need it. People who are unconditional in their love and sacrifice for others are extremely rare (besides Jesus, Ghandi, Mother Theresa, etc...), if you're lucky you will have parents or a spouse who will do anything for you. Most people, however, fall into the category of "if it doesn't interfere with my plans or bother me, I'll help you out", and I can't say I blame them. C'mon, we've all bent over backwards, and maybe even sacrificed something, to help out someone who eventually would spurn us when we needed the favor reciprocated. After that, people learn really fast to limit their level of assistance...Me, I'm kinda hard headed, and a late bloomer. It took me a while, but I learned...

If I look back over the course of my life, there are defining moments which screamed to me to realize this:

Asking friends where there got that cool shirt or pair of pants, and they would reply with..."I can't remember..." or "I don't know, I got it as a birthday gift..." While both of these are valid answers (and in some cases true), I eventually found a bullshit translator which helped me to decipher these answers, ie: "Hey, I'm such a paranoid and selfish fuck that I don't want to say where I got these clothes so that you don't buy some and we look like twins. I want to be the only asshole wearing them!!"

Asking to borrow notes from a classmate when I was sick, I got "Sorry, the last time I let someone borrow my notes I never got them back..." Bullshit translation: "Even though I know you and we've been hanging out, and I could just let you photocopy them...FUCK YOU! I'm not going to judge you on your own merit and just assume that you're going to fuck me!"

Here's a common one that crosses over into a lot of different areas...Asking a friend or relative for a favor, especially when you have bent over backwards to help them on several occasions...and the reply is: "Sorry I can't , I have to take care of some stuff..." Bullshit translation: "Even though you've helped me, sorry fucker, I don't just don't feel like doing that shit for you...even though I'm doing nothing!"

That last one really burns me up...

What brings all of this about...well recently, I asked a co-worker to cover a late shift that I had so that I could go and hang my art for an art show. Now, I cover for people all the time, especially when they really need it, and I've covered for this person too, so I figure it will be no problem. WRONG!. My co-worker is working a morning shift at 6am the following day, so they refused stating that they wouldn't get any sleep. Now, normally I can understand...but, this co-worker regularly stays up (with no fucking sleep!) to play video games! I have seen her come in drowsy and red eyed from staying up all night on the computer, chatting or gaming. No matter how much I begged her, she would not do it...at that moment my boyish outlook on life changed. I realized that no matter how important something is, people just don't give a fuck! I don't know why at that moment, maybe it's because the show is so important to me, but it just all sank in.

I learned from my mom (who is unconditional in her love for us) to be caring, kind, and to help others when they need it. If my mom only had a dollar, and someone needed it, then she gave it to them. That really impressed me, and I felt deep inside that I had to be the same, but I really took it to an ideal level. I would sacrifice myself for others to help them when they really needed it, and although they appreciated it...I was very very hard pressed to find someone to do the same for me...Because although people will help you, they may only do it when it's not a bother...And that is that way of the world.

So back to now...After years of experiencing this, it's all finally sunken in...and I feel like I'm growing up. The idealology that man can be so much more than he currently is, fades away and will only be reserved for fiction and creative endeavors. Man is a selfish bastard, and although I can hope, the reality of the situation is that no one can look out for me, except for...me. No one will understand me and my needs better than me. There is no Lone Ranger coming to whisk away all my problems or help me...I have to do it. Yes, people will still help me, but I won't expect it of them. People will still support me, but I won't expect them to sacrifice for me. It's all really up to me. There is no job security, there are no raises, no promotions...I have to create them all for myself. I am the spear head that pushes my dreams forward, cuts through the bullshit, and hits that target. No one will do it for me, but when I make it, they'll come out to bask in my sunshine...oh well, that's life.

Doesn't have to be, but it is.

You know, this is one of the best lessons I've learned,

...better late than never too...

Back Again

Well, I'm back after about a month's time. I don't really know why I'm back...I don't have any new "revelations" or "experiences" to share...but I guess I just needed to pour myself out to someone, even if it is myself.

DOODLING AND DRAWING

I have been working on quite a few projects: storyboards, illustrations, comics, designs, and some doodles here and there. I just finished up some illustrations for a USC graduate film called "Unseen". It's about a young boy who is an artistic prodigy, but is ignored by the adults in his life. I got the gig by answering an online ad, and after speaking to the director of the film, I was in. It didn't really pay anything, but it will allow my artwork to be seen (hopefully by a lot of people). I have also continued working on two ongoing projects: "Bwana M'saka" with my friend Vince, and storyboards for a horror film, "Last Stop". Amid both of these projects I have also let my mind wander and have begun doodling and scribbling, doing designs just for myself. That's important, I believe. Every artist needs time to let their mind wander so that they can unlock the creativity in their brain. Often I get so caught up in projects, shackled by the parameters that come with them, that it's good to just get out all the ideas that I have in my head and flesh them out. For a long time, in the recent past, all that I worked on was just projects, and nothing for me. Even though these projects pushed my ingenuity and creativity, I think that in a way they stunted my imagination. Trust me I have no regrets, some of my best work came out of these projects, but they were projects from someone else's imagination. Although I was able to capture what someone else envisioned, it became hard to dream things up on my own. The doodling helps me to release that creativity that's locked inside of me. It also helps to release my frustration and anger as well. Below are a couple of my newest doodles that I did, check them out (like anyone is out there...but I can pretend).

These next pieces are from a the student film "Unseen".

I did some logo work too, but I will save that for my next blog, maybe tomorrow (but knowing myself, maybe more like Friday). I have more work to finish tonight, getting a logo done, an avocado character for produce company, some more boards, comic layouts, and hopefully some more doodling. I love that, it's like masturbating, but with your pants on. I just hold that lead cock in my hand and go to town on the page. Funny, I went to a seminar at comic con this year with an artist named Marshall Vandruff who told us that dooding in a sketchbook was the best way to release ideas, and now I can't get enough of it. This last project "Unseen" also helped me get back into things as well. Can't wait until I'm home tonight...

WHERE DO WE GO NOW...

I'm back after a short hiatus (not that anyone really cares as there are maybe 2 people who read this), and trying to figure out where to go after my six month artistic journey.

I feel like I really have made some significant steps in my artistic life, but not without being tested nearly every miniscule step of the way. It seemed as if every day was a battle; whether it was my own lack of self confidence, or outside sources edging themselves into the short and precious time that I have. I really grew a lot as an artist, and hopefully as a man as well. But the journey is far from over, and in actuality it's just beginning. When I graduated from college nearly 10 years ago, I saw it as a major accomplishment in my life. I had made it through 5 hard years of study and work, and had reached my goals. I, however, made the unfortunate mistake of thinking the hard part of my life (at that point) was over, that after my years of intense studying, life would get easier. It was the furthest thing from the truth...I realized that as time passed on. Graduating college was only the beginning, and the trials and tribulations of life would test me more than any exam that I had ever taken. The concrete foot of life went so far up my as, I'm surprised that I'm not able to get fisted by a rhino now. There were a lot of tough times, and I can't honestly say that I rose to the occasion. I succumbed the the tsunami that was my life at the time, and only recently have I been able to escape the wave's path.

So, once again, here I am, facing the same type of situation again. At this point I could say a lot of things: how this time it will be different; how I know better this time; etc...But I'm tired of saying those things. I just want to be the man that I know I can be. I see the path ahead of me, and it scares me to death. I'd rather try to do something different if I could. The problem, you see, is the fact that this IS my life. This artistic life has chosen me for whatever reason, and only by living this life do I feel complete at all. If I worked at a bank, or if I worked at an office, I would just be longing to live this type of life and I would die a horrid and wretched loser. I can't bear to imagine that I would die just a man with a lot of great ideas, who never expressed any of them, who let the world pass him by without so much as a peep. I'm not that man, nor will I ever be that man. I just pray to God that I have the strength to stay on this path and see this dream through...

Well, enough of the screaming in my head...

Back to the real world for more punishment.

What I've Learned...

Over the course of the last year, and especially the last 6 months, I have learned quite a bit. I have made a lot of discoveries, both in my art and about myself. There is not a day that doesn't go by where I don't learn something new, or come face to face with a reality in my life that helps me. Some of these are wonderful, and some are not. Some in fact, are very painful. And it is in these most painful moments, when I clear my mind of any anger, doubt, or sadness, that the greatest moment of clarity presents itself. Usually it comes down to the simplest of details, and ones that seem to make the most sense. I wonder why I often took such complicated paths to learn something that was so simple, and most of the time right in front of me. Part of it, I believe, is my own lack of self confidence and worth which leads me to doubt my feelings, instincts, and thoughts. The other part, is influence by outside sources that I default to because of my doubt. Eventually, I wind up doing things not for me, or even thinking like me. That is to say, it's not bad to have influences out of your normal realm of thinking. One just has to determine if these influences are beneficial or detrimental, and then go on from that point. But in both cases, I can only say that it was my fault. There is no one to blame but myself. So, in lieu of this, and everything that I have experienced, I have come to believe in a few simple ideas. Nothing grand, nothing too thought out, and really just common sense. Keeping it as simple as possible, is really the best way:

Follow your dream.
Believe in it.
Do it.
And don't let anything,
or anyone stop you.
In the end,
it will come true.

That is really it, 5 brief ideas. Simple. Concise. Powerful. As long as you hold true to these ideas, you can do anything. This is what I have learned. Say goodbye haters...

Dreaming again...and finally...COMICS!!!

Well, that dream that I wrote about in a previous post...the one about the ocean that was representative of my art (and life)...I had another one similar to it about 3 days ago. In the dream, I was floating in the ocean, which seemed like an endless dark expanse. The sky was dark, and there was no land in sight. Funny thing is, I wasn't there alone. I don't know who was with me, but whoever it was, we where holding on to each other in the water. Next thing I know, this dragon "thing" (like one of the Nasgul's beasts) rose up out of the water, us on its back, and carried us to a tower sticking up out of the ocean. Funny thing is, I hadn't seen the Return of the King in months. I don't know exactly what that meant, but I'm sure I'll find out in time.

As well, I keep having dreams about relatives (some alive, some deceased)...for some reason, we all seem to be in a really fucked up ghetto neighborhood, with danger seemingly lurking everywhere. I don't know why that is, although I'm always afraid of losing another family member. I have always been close to them, and even now I wish I could spend more time with them. Maybe it's representative of the fact that they could go at any time, and being in a shitty, dangerous neighborhood is how it represents itself.

Why can't I just have dreams with naked chicks in them?

On a lighter note, I just got a bunch of new comics from a shop out in my area. YAHOO!!! Finally! My wife and I were cruising a local street fair and there happened to be a shop in the vicinity. I stopped in, and she treated me to some books. Ah!!! Nirvana! I caught up on some of my JSA and got Countdown to Infinite Crisis...yes!!! Good stuff! Gimme more!!

Sorry, I'm a greedy bastard!

Thoughts....

Just some random stuff floating about in my head...

I'm not alone...ever

In my last blog, I spoke metaphorically about taking this great leap into the unknown, into that scary part that would put me closer to achieving my goals than ever before. Often, I feel like I'm doing that alone, but I have to remember...I'm not. I believe that throughout the course of my life, a higher power has been with me on my journey. Now before you say to yourself "Oh crap! Not another Jesus freak!", let me say this...Yes I do believe in God; Yes I do believe in Jesus; And no, I do not condemn anyone who doesn't. I'm not a right wing hardcore fundamentalist Christian or religious fanatic. I'm just a man who feels connected to this "Higher" power/God/Jesus/Buddha/etc... It's something that I can't describe, but it's this feeling that I get that helps me through all the bad times, and reminds me when something good happens, just how luck I really am. It's this feeling that helps me to forgive when someone wrongs me and I just want to hack him/her into a million pieces with an axe. It's that same feeling that asks me to reach out to that person to see what's wrong and how I can help. I call it God, someone else may call it an angel, enlightenment, compassion, faith, etc...the label doesn't really matter. It's the feeling of goodwill and strength of perseverence that matters. For a while there, however, I felt so alone. I felt detached and estranged. I was buried so deep in emotional and mental stress that I lost all hope...I lost all love. I never felt so alone in my life, I had never before fallen to such despairity. Yet in my darkest hour (to date of course), there was something that helped me to go on...that little "nudge" that pushed me to continue. When I didn't want to talk with anyone, it reminded me that I had friends and family that loved me. When I had closed my heart to love, and opened myselft to hate, it helped me to reverse myself and love again. When I forgot who I was...when I didn't have an inkling about myself or my art...it found me and helped me to find myself. Now I feel better, I feel stronger, and I feel like I'm finding myself, and I can do just about anything. My faith is restored...and God walks with me, so being alone is not an option, in fact it never was...

And as a departure from the deeply spiritual thoughts above...

I seriously need to get back into a damn comic book store, working the weekends at Border's just isn't cutting it as far as getting my comics fix. My God, I can't remember the last time I bought comics at a direct market store. Ahhh, I miss it so much! Walking into a room filled with books and sweaty geeks. The smell of old paper filling my nostrils...the new comics lining the shelves ready for me to pluck them out, one by one...The back issues calling my name..."Alex come find me, I'm trapped here with all the shitty books from the speculator's era!" Then after and hours worth of digging, I find those wonderful back issues...and trust me, I've found some good shit. That's what I get for living out in the middle of no where.

Oh well, what are you gonna do?

Dreaming...

You know, having dreams is one the joys of life. First of all, they are free, and anyone can have them. Second, if you are persistent enough and determined enough, you always have the possibility of making them come true. And finally, if your life changes, you can always tailor those dreams to the changes in your life. Unfortunately, the fucked up thing about dreams is that they may not always come true, especially when you take a leap of faith and commit to them. The safer dreams are the ones we have in our sleep, they aren't real...and in the end everything was just a fantasy...or was it?


I have a lot of crazy dreams. Not just the ones where you meet a hot girl and bang her, no my dreams are a little different. I see dead people. Not often, and they never talk to me. But I always seem to dream about the ones whose lives tragically ended. My aunt, my friend, a classmate from school. Just those mostly, and when I saw them, I knew that they were trying to tell me something. I could see the sadness in their eyes and I knew that they needed something from me. But what could I give them, I mean they were dead! All I could do was say a prayer and give them my thoughts. I do miss them though.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about my dreams, both the waking ones and the ones in my sleep. I think about how I started out, naive and starry eyed, and how things didn't turn out quite like I planned. About how I fucked up and got off the path that I started on, and the big mistakes along the way. I also thought about how I eventually found my way back and started to dream again. I also had a moment where my waking and my sleeping dreams seemed to collide for one brief second, giving me a moment of clarity in relation to not just my artwork, but my entire life. Not just that, but how my freaky as horoscope validated what I dreamt about. So, lets go on a ride...

In the early hours of April 20th I had a dream, as most of us do. In my dream I dreamt that I was a secret agent trying to get myself into, and bust, a biker gang. Well they caught me stowing away in one of their trucks and told me to beat it, but not before sending a couple of thugs to take me out. When I left the gang, I went to my uncle's house (who is dead) which seem to be on a pier and right at the foot of a hill, simultaenously. My aunts and my mom were there, and the thugs weren't far behind. I saw them coming for me, and as it happens in a lot of my dreams I became a superhero to stop them. Yeah, I know, too many comic books. Anyways, I couldn't let them hurt my family...so, who to become? Well, that's an easy one. Superman. He is probably the greatest superhero around, hands down, and I'm a huge fan. So, after a blast of heat vision, bullets bouncing off of my chest, and an incredible show of strength, the villains were done for. I was in the costume, and I wanted to show my uncle who I was, so that he could be proud of me. He looked at me, and I saw the pride in his eyes. At that time, I also heard a dristress call from ships caught in a storm that needed my help. I had to go, so I made my way outside to the pier. That's when I saw the ocean. It was incredible, the waves taller than the house, speeding by at an incredible rate. not a cold blue ocean, but a green and brown grimy water that covered a vast expanse for miles. Within the waves I could see dozens of sea creatures, and not the small ones. Giant whales, squids, and sharks...speeding by, caught in the waves. Behemoths caught up and carried out by an even greater one. And not just them, but also the monsters that dwell near the ocean floor never seeing light. Odd and frightening creatures that were terrifying to behold. Even though I was Superman, even though I could take them all out (the creatures), even though the ocean wouldn't swallow me...I was deathly afraid. I was afraid to take that risk, that 1% that I might not make it. So I turned around and went back to the house. At that point I woke up and the dream ended. But it had made its impact on me. The next morning I found this in my email:

"You could have some powerful dreams, Alex. Your psychic senses will be heightened, and you should pay attention to the images that appear in your dreams. You might want to write down the things that happen to you in your dreamscape. Your dreams could contain some important symbolic messages over the next few days. Record them in a dream journal so that you can learn from them and apply these insights to your daily life."

It was my daily email horoscope. Freaky little thing, this is the third or fourth time that it touched upon something significant in my life. Make what you will from this, I don't believe everything in life is black and white. But even before I got this, I began to wonder what it all meant (the dream). At first, I thought it was something pertaining to my artwork. That I was too afraid to cross that vast threshold that would lead me to my promised destination, that would allow my artistic dreams to come through. But as the weeks passed, it seemed as if it was more than just about my art. It was about my life. It was about how I was too afraid to take that leap, whenever an opportunity presented itself. It was about how I always chose the safer path in life instead of taking the risk. I thought about this when I realized what it really meant. I looked back at the missed opportunities and bad decisions and cringed. But, the past is the past. I can't change that. But I can do something about the future. My life is going to change before the end of this year (for the better), because I am going to jump into the ocean. No matter how scared I am, I am even more scared of continuing on the same way.

Wish me well...