- J. A. Kind
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Minecraft and Me
I have constructed
great mansions and cities. I have swum across vast oceans. I have climbed the
tallest of peaks. And I have accidentally spawned a chicken into an underground
waterfall, which in turn, horridly washed it into a magma chamber where I
surprisingly procured some cooked chicken from its invisible corpse.
This severely scarred me, for I am all
about animal rights and I am a strict vegetarian, even in Minecraft.
Since 7th grade, Minecraft has been an
integral function in the large, strange, internal series of mechanisms that
keep me sane. It is a way to let off steam while additionally allowing my
imagination to run wild in an infinite world filled with infinite
possibilities. Sometimes, I heavily rely on the game to almost literally
transport me into another world, one where I can cover the sky with a
rainbow-like assortment of wool or lurk in the deep mine shafts that twist and
tangle below the surface of the block-like trees. Other times, the app
peacefully chills on my phone's second screen, sometimes months on end, waiting
for me with an ever-present patience and thirst for my reentrance into our
shared worlds once more.
Yet even after those extended droughts or the few times when I had
became so undeniably upset by accidentally deleting one of my personalized,
homey worlds, I have routinely come back to the app. When I imagine a life
where Minecraft does not accompany me as an integral part of my being, I feel
strange, for so much of who I am has blossomed from the app. Yet, in the end, I
create anew. I mine. I craft.
- J. A. Kind
Friday, October 23, 2015
Frannerd Is Back
Perspective
I found this use of perspective extremely useful when I analyzed Frannerd’s work, so I decided to use the concept in my own piece. In “Woman in a Blue Dress,” I too tried to use perspective in order to create unity within my piece and the story of my piece. I did this by creating an angled scene in which almost the conversation of the piece follows the viewers eye movement. By manipulating the perspective of my piece I was able to create a story that begins with the umbrella and woman in a blue dress and eventually winds down the angled plane until it concludes with the conversation between the two figures in the back. Overall, I think perspective really did aid me in my story telling abilities and I am very thankful for Frannerd and her work for introducing me to the topic.
- J. A. Kind
Thursday, October 22, 2015
A Dose Of Negativity
Life often feels like difficult crud.
Let’s
face it. During almost every single period of your existence there is probably
going to be something in your life that is honestly just not that much fun.
Maybe a lover cheats, maybe your bank balance is only in the double digits, or
maybe Netflix is being shaky because your Internet provider lies about the
quality of their service. Nevertheless, it is statistically probable that
something in your life is wrong. Something should be fairly unideal.
Quite
frankly, if nothing in your life is suckishly
going down the drain, no matter how menial that thing may be, something should probably
feel severely off. In a cosmopolitan, universal sense, there has to be some
aspect of your life that isn’t going right. Perhaps it’s the collection of
aggressive clouds hovering claustrophobically above you. Or rather, it might be
the absence of those very clouds and the sheer annoyance of sunlight. Or even
more realistically, it could be the irrefutable fact that you will never know
what the weather is going to be like in the first place, since meteorologists
can’t seem to do their jobs. Nevertheless, perfection, the complete dissipation
of annoyances, mistakes, flaws, etc., is creepily unnatural.
That
very perfection is usually formed through the excessive wrong-doing of overly
optimistic viewpoints. Things can look like they’re going places, life can seem
positive, and hope can wholeheartedly feel graspable. Maybe, but life still is
difficult and cruddy.
So
switch it up.
Look
at the negative. No matter how positive that negativity may seem, it still
lurks in your shadows, the corners of your eyes, and the little crevices and
fleshy areas of your body that you rarely check for malignant birthmarks or
tumors. Something is negative; sometimes you only have to look hard enough to
find it. Imagine the possibilities for the negativity; oftentimes it helps.
You
might cross the street and get hit by some automobile. You might get cancer of
the [insert body part]. Or even more incredibly, you might get fatally struck
by an atmospherically miniaturized asteroid. Anything negative could happen.
And more importantly, anything negative could be happening – for after all,
life is difficult and cruddy.
Yet
what’s frequently most difficult, is the misconception of calm, the utter,
unadulterated uppercut from life into that seemingly beautiful, yet oh-so-ignorant, pearly smile you don. For
you could be having the best day of your existence: your enemy on Game of
Thrones could become poisoned; you could win the largest lottery in recorded
history; or you could finally break that Kit Kat so that it satisfactorily
mimics the impossible crunch caught on those melodic commercials. But then, as
if you were unjustly awarded with an excess of positivity, your lover cheats,
your bank balance drops to the double digits, and your Netflix stream stutters.
And thus, equilibrium is universally achieved and the unfortunate thematic
concept of your existence floats along your storyline as life, once more, is
awfully difficult and cruddy.
Yet
astonishingly, something doesn't even need to strike you with the overbearing
sense of hopelessness and universal betrayal for your life to feel difficult and cruddy.
Things could be happening to the lives of your family members, your friends,
your coworkers, or even those children in Africa you are so often ignorantly reminded of for
the overbearing difficulty of life to knock on your door once more.
And
oh how it will knock. At times, the knocking may seem like the usual beat that
accompanies you as life quickly, yet somehow uneventfully passes you by. While
other times, the knock will incapacitate you with such an alarming degree,
magnitude, and velocity, that you yourself will no longer feel your own life
feeling difficult. And so, you numb. You crystalize and harden, blocking
helping hands yet also paradoxically stagnating the very cause of your dazed
paralysis.
Smack
yourself and wake up. Wake up and smell the proverbial difficult crud, because yes,
your life reeks of it, and so do ours. However, after you wake up, don’t
continue your pre-established, cyclical storyline. As Khaleesi from GOT would demand,
“Break the wheel.”
Instead
of putting on your tough face, your happy face, your everyday face, stop. Get
down, deep, and dirty, take off your mask, and analyze the crud out of your difficult, cruddy life.
After all, you might just notice that that very difficult crud, when all is
said and done, is merely the ingested and digested parts of your life. Your difficult
crud is you.
So
yes, life often feels like difficult crud. It should.
- J. A. Kind
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Joanna Concejo Is Back
Texture
I am not sure if you remember Joanna Concejo, but a few months back I wrote a piece about her creative, illustrative works. I really find her artwork inspiring - especially the piece below. I found the textures of both the bear and the boy in
her work to be awesome (in the true sense of the word).
Not only do the almost palpable textures make the piece seem like a
portal to another world, but they also add to the meaningfulness of the story
within the piece. To me, when I see the
individual furs on the bear and the cloth of the boy’s shirt and how dense
those very textures are, I get an underlying feeling that there is more to
these characters than meets the eye. The
bear becomes more realistic through his textured fur, and in turn the story
behind the bear also becomes more realistic.
This concept can also be applied to the boy and his shirt. Moreover, this adds another dimension to the
work as a whole, adding somewhat of a grit to both of the characters, which
makes the overall themes and plot of the piece more interesting (in relation to
the piece’s story).
Thus, because I saw
from Concejo’s work that texture was a great asset to use within a piece, I
tried creating a piece that heavily relied on texture in order to tell the
story – this piece was “The Collage of Persephone. In the piece, every major aspect of the
subject and her surroundings has a different texture: to name a few, her skin
is patchy, her hair is composed of many long lines, the flowers are densely
packed with smaller details, and the drips in the background are solid
black. This shows different aspects of
my character and her surroundings in relation to the overall story of the
piece. The patchy skin shows that she is
hiding something, yet that she also is composed of many different concepts –
she’s multidimensional. Another example
would be the darkness and density of the flowers shows that they are not just
beautiful but also possibly dangerous.
Thus overall, I was heavily influenced by Joanna Concejo’s work in that
I realized how great texture can be in order to tell a story within a
piece.
- J. A. Kind
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