Katastrophic: addendum

Addendum to the below post.  A great resource is found here for those interested parties.

Katastrophic

It's awful to read the news and watch the television this week.  News of the hurricane's increased fatality-inducing winds as it traveled from Florida to Louisiana to Mississippi is almost too much to bear for me.  I've read in an article that some people consider it "their tsunami" and I can understand why.  Even though the number of lives lost can't begin to compare with those lost in South Asia, the devastation to community and the value of missing innocents can't be discounted.  What's heartening, however, is how prepared Louisiana was to face the storm and how efficiently people were evacuated before the winds hit.  My question early on was, "Where's the president?" but my answer came today as he's cutting short his vacation to face the homeland tragedies head-on.

 

I implore those out there with enough heart to keep the families of those lost in the storm in your thoughts and prayers (if so inclined).  If there's anything else you want to do, please find some outlet for donation.  I'll be looking to find such a charity myself in the next few days...

Problems With Prose and Poetry

Currently, I'm drawing a lot more than I'm writing.  Really, I've been drawing so much more than usual that I'm prepared to hit the wall soon that I inevitably run into when I've reached my creative dam.  Right now it's a steadily flowing river of unrealized ideas and half-hearted sketches.  My hope is that by the end of the Summer, I'll have a full-force plan of action with which to carry out some crazy ideas.  Why can't I just do it now though?  Hm...

 

Whatever, what I really wanted to write about today was how little I've been writing.  Well, creatively at least.  the last sort of short story I wrote was in January?  If there was one later than that, please let me know, I'm slacking.  There's a few things that I was working on for various reasons or another, but like most things I start: I didn't finish.  Frustrating as it is, it doesn't phase me at all that much.  Maybe because writing isn't a profession of mine, but a hobby?  Like most hobbies of mine, I often wonder if I have the chops to do these sort of things full-time.  Without validation of any kind and without any sort of self-confidence in the first place, accomplishing a small task like finishing a short story longer than a full page seems daunting.  It's no secret that I fear failure, so maybe that's part of the reason why.

 

Really, I should look back at the stories I wrote while still in high school.  Having done it before, it's not pretty.  Most of the prose is laden with words and stolen lyric-phrases that ought to not be there in the first place.  It's awkward, immature, and ultimately self-serving.  Did I find it therapeutic at the time?  Definitely.  Do I want to accomplish the same things now that I did then?  Not at all. 

 

Back then, I was more apt to be self-pitying, broody, and a pain in the general arse.  Why I can't whip myself into as much of a teenage fit these days is probably because like most artists, the creative juices thrive on pain.  Without much personal pain, you can't throw as much down on the paper.  These days, I find more inspiration in joy, in other things that I see or read, or in music that I hear.  It could be that's why it's easier for me to lay a line down on the paper than a story.  Perhaps I'm just not intuitive enough to flesh out the middle when all I have is a beginning and an end? 

 

When I started the blog, it was more content-driven, as I had more friends that actually read the thing.  It's mutated somewhat into something more personal and its current carnation is something of a place for me to practice what I feel like, actually publish it, and review whatever past work that's here.  Since I don't have a lot to look at lately, it appears it's time for another overhaul.  Creative and web-wise.

 

Nose to the grindstone, I'm working here....

Men in Black

Once again, I've seen one of the greatest bands play one of the greatest shows I've ever seen.  Seeing Coldplay is always a treat no matter where you are, even at the horrid Verizon Wireless Amphitheater in Irvine.  It always helps to know how to get there, get out, and get home with the minimum amount of pain possible.  Good thing, growing up in Orange County kind of helps with all of that.  How many shout outs did Chris Martin give to The OC?  Can't quite remember, but hey, he's sincere enough that the cheap applause doesn't seem at all that cheap.

 

Music-wise, everything was special.  They played a majority of music from their new record X&Y, but also played a few of their older, maybe more obscure songs including Don't Panic and Warning Sign.  It also wouldn't be a Coldplay concert without the required random cover song.  No sooner did they finish 'Til Kingdom Come and they launched into another Johnny Cash tune, Ring of Fire.  Puzzling?  not at all since the crowd ate up every second of it.  Favorite performances of mine for the night included the intense rendition of Low, the enthusiastic romp through Clocks, and the finale Fix You.  I've never seen a crowd so into a performance as they were with this concert. Correct that, I've never seen a crowd so large, so enthusiastic.  It wasn't the usual lackadaisical Los Angeles crowd last night, could Coldplay be solely responsible?

 

Undoubtedly, the songs, records, and tours are just part of the package.  The performance itself is where a band goes from "Hey, they're kind of good" to "Wow, I'd love to see and hear more of them again in the future."  From the first time I ever saw them at the Hollywood Bowl, I've had that reaction and most likely that's why they're as immensely popular as they are.  There's been many times in the past few weeks when mentioning the band that I hear, "I hear they're really good live."  Some friends of mine contend that they're more appropriate for an intimate setting.  While I agree on some level, I'm impressed that with each passing year, the band appears more and more comfortable in front of large crowds.  Chris Martin is affable enough to maintain a humble stage manner no matter how many people are screaming and the band's performance is tight enough that no one could leave unsatisfied.  I do really wish that I had been able to see them perform at the Troubadour, the El Rey, and any other small theater in Los Angeles.  Unfortunately for myself, the band is so large and so popular that any thought of obtaining these tickets is merely a dream.

 

As long as the band is enjoying what they do (which they obviously do if anyone's ever seen them at all on stage) and as long as the music keeps coming, they will have performances a plenty.  Hopefully I'll be able to see them whenever I can.  Backlash be damned, I still love Coldplay.

Running a Marathon

Before anyone gets up in arms about how obsessed I am with going to the gym and how it's driving me insane enough to run a full 24 miles, this post has nothing to do with fitness at all.

There's a blurb on the ol' Los Angeles Metroblog website that I found rather fascinating.  Culturally, I'm intrigued because it deals with the roots of many Latinos and Chicanos in the Los Angeles area.  Specifically, it's one girl's experience with what she calls Danza or to the lay-person, Aztec Dance.  Myself, I'm not familiar with Danza at all and I'm only vaguely familiar with the East L.A. region where this event took place.  Boyle Heights is someplace I've passed through, someplace I've eaten breakfast and someplace I obviously don't frequent that often, but reading her post raises something I've never discussed before: ethnicity.  Well, ethnicity and how I feel about my own culture. 

There's a few things that come to mind when I think of this subject.  One of them is how I do feel very attached to it, another is how I feel very distant from it, and the last is how darn confused one can get.  I think these are common feelings amongst many young minorities in the United States, especially ones who are much more than second generation minorities.  Myself, being third generation, I'm very far removed from my own culture in the sense that Spanish isn't my first language, my parents don't even speak Spanish all that well, and I'm from Orange County.  Does that make me any less Mexican?  Well, that's where my dilemma lies.

Granted, people are always confused when they approach me.  Where do I lie on the ethnicity line?  Am I full?  Am I an ethnic mix of a sort?  Can you imagine how many strange looks I get when I tell people that I'm of full Mexican descent?  There have been rare occasions where people can outright guess that I have some Latin blood in me and even more rare occasions where people have tried speaking to me in Spanish, but like I said, those occasions happen to be rare. Quite rare.  This is where the article comes into play.  Do I feel any less Mexican because I had to learn Spanish in high school?  Am I any less Mexican because I didn't know what Danza was or had never heard of it?  I try not to think so...

In college, I had the opportunity to become a part of the Latino/Chicano community.  Sadly, I can say I regret that I didn't take advantage of this opportunity at all.  Why not?  Maybe because I was shy.  Or maybe because I was more scared that instead of embarrassing myself out of awkwardness, I'd embarrass myself by my comparative upbringing.  People have laughed at me for being "white-washed," not being a real Mexican, and maybe even for knowing more about another certain culture than I do about my own.  Heck, I've even had one of my uncles say that I should have been born Asian.  How is that supposed to make me feel?

What I have realized now is there was no reason for me to be fearful.  No one ever tries to be the best there is at being ethnic.  At least no one I know thankfully.  It's not a race to be part of your race.  We're not running to the ultimate finish line where those with the most "street cred" win.  Maybe that's why I find the post not disheartening to myself, but inspiring.  There's a part of me that will always be happy cooking for my friends and teaching them about new foods or taking them to new places.  Just as enjoyable are those times where I can learn new things about my own culture that I never knew.  I could spend hours listening to my grandfather talk about his upbringing, working on the railroads, and being in the fields.  I could spend more time reading about the Mayan culture, works from authors struggling with the same confusion and self-doubt, and soaking in all the knowledge I can.  It's not about trying to better my "ethnic standing" though, it's about appreciating where my family came from and knowing that even though I may not share a similar background, I shouldn't feel it devalues my heritage.

Thanks for listening, now back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Red, White, and Black

Last night, we added to the concert madness of late and saw the White Stripes (www.whitestripes.com) entertain a raucous Los Angeles crowd at the Greek Theater (www.greektheatrela.com) in Griffith Park.  "A late night outing on a Tuesday?!!"  one might say.  "Oh yes." would be my reply.  Being vaguely tired right now is well worth having witnessed one of the most unique and complex rock bands of the modern era.  I'd have to say, however, that "rock" is probably a word that's best used in conjunction with various adjectives when describing the White Stripes.

 

Blues rock, rock country, Southern rock, hard rock, punk rock; there's just too many ways to describe their music.  Even rock isn't necessarily correct because every now and then, Jack White will slip into either a bluegrass groove or a foiksy multi-layered ballad.  It's not surprising in the least, because the enormous creativity displayed wasn't reserved for only the guitar.  Moving from the six-string stick of dynamite, Mr. White is equally proficient at getting his point across comfortably behind a piano, a marimba, or even violently demolishing the renaissance mandolin. 

 

The show itself, filled with a majority of new songs and a sprinkling of old favorites, was a showcase for their new album Get Behind Me, Satan.  Although they did satisfy at the very end with monstrous renditions of "The Hardest Button to Button" and "Seven Nation Army," it was almost disappointing not to hear more of their older songs.  That doesn't mean the show was any less entertaining as it's difficult to find any band willing to showcase what's new in their catalog.  Does this make the band more daring than most?  I'd think so.

 

Final thoughts:  Jack White can shred.  He played such a diverse amount of music on his guitar, I was pretty sure it'd catch on fire at any moment.  Wailing away on every song, it was a sight I hadn't beheld since I saw Joe Satriani (www.satriani.com) melt his guitar live onstage.  Would the White Stripes still be the White Stripes without Meg White?  Certain times, I thought "yes," but towards the end, it's hard to imagine the drum kit without her pounding away.  Simple beats serve to really magnify the intensity of the guitar and anyone else, playing anything else, wouldn't do the music justice.

 

Great show.  Even better, it's a great lead-in to the main event that will be this Sunday. 

 

Successful

Now that I know the darn thing works, I can actually try and be more consistent in the coming weeks. Especially since the transfer is instantaneous, I should make more of an effort.  Maybe this will be a new era?

Last night, I had the opportunity to take part in my first ever life drawing class.  Having never used charcoal as a serious medium before and having never sat down on a drawing bench, it was severely new.  Surprisingly, it wasn't the least bit unsettling either.  There was the fact that the model probably wasn't what I expected, but why should I care when the class costs less than what I would be paying at a particular high-class art college.

Usually, there are certain questions when people ask me about drawing in the first place.  Two of the most common happen to be either, "Where did you learn to draw like that?" or "Have you taken any art classes before?"  Sometimes, I can be proud of the fact that I learned everything I know on my own (which can often be painfully obvious) and that I've never taken a single professional class in my life.  Other times, these questions make me think, "You know what, I should have taken more classes."

Having taken this class last night and having started to draw more from life in general, I've concluded that it's a valuable tool any person aspiring to draw anything would benefit from.  There are certain websites I've visited where the piece of advice always given is "draw more from life," and I think taking that advice to heart has been key to my own ability.  There's nothing more helpful than constructive criticism when trying to complete something creative.  Although I'm not very happy to hear criticism in general, it's usually tough love and necessary.

There's a few artistic and personal ideas milling around the thinking cap at the moment.  They may or may not appear in this space within the coming weeks, so keep the eyes peeled.

Testing

I'm testing a new way of posting right now.  Mostly I'm concerned that the line breaks in the last post were not something I like to see since it's so hard to read.  Why do I even care seeing as hardly anyone really reads the site to begin with?  Because I'm just the type of person who worries about crap like line breaks to begin with...

Randomness Inserted

I think their should be a new word and it should be "enmusculate." What
do you think, do I go too far?

Anyhow, not much going on this week. There's one more movie review I
imagine I should post at some point, but am too lazy to actually take
care of at the moment. There are a few things I'll touch on though:

March of the Penguins was great. Documentaries can go two ways for me,
either terminally boring or remarkably fascinating. This one was the
latter.

I still want to see the King Tut exhibit at LACMA. There's something
about seeing a few thousand year-old dead guy that makes people go
crazy.

There are so many new Kubricks that I'm afraid to take a picture lest I
realize the folly I've undertaken by continuing the collection. My
obsession knows no bounds.

And... I think I've been to more concerts this year than at any point
in my life. Think of all the money I'd saved if I'd only gone to one.
Gah!

Summer Filmic Gorging, Week 3

There never was a formal review of the Fantastic Four movie on the blog. With good reason maybe. I'll run down the pros and cons real quick.

The great parts of the movie were indeed the action, the interaction of the characters, and some of the effects. Michael Chiklis as the Thing and Chris Evans as Johnny Storm really stood out in my mind as two of the bright spots acting-wise. I would have loved Julian McMahon as Victor Von Doom in another capacity, but he did give a good performance with what he was given. Effects-wise, there are things they could have improved upon, but with the impacted release schedule it was impressive. I look forward to seeing improvement with the sequel.

Now for the negatives. Well, there was one big negative as I saw it, this movie could have been much bigger in scope than it was. I mean, Dr. Doom goes crazy and that's the climax? The team saves a fire truck and they're instant heroes? It's very much unlike Spider-man's premise in that he becomes an established hero over the course of the movie, while during this film, the four pretty much hangs out in the Baxter Building until Doom tries to destroy them. Where's the large cosmic scale, the world-domination plots from Doom, or even a haphazard appearance of the Impossible Man? I guess that's why so many people left the project before it started: not enough focus, and not enough depth. In the end, the movie wasn't trying to be deep, but trying to be fun. In this essence, they succeeded, but will have to really try much harder to establish their own world if a sequel is to succeed.

Unimaginably, I enjoyed the movie a bit. See it as a matinee if you must, it's a fun piece of popcorn fluff.

Overall score: 2.5 out of 5 stars