The Creators Project

There is a total mish-mash or artists, musicians, designers and creative folk all participating in The Creators Project, displaying their work and strutting their stuff across the cyber landscape of the internet. after looking at the project, i decided that Danny Perez was going to be my chosen victim on whom i would pry to boost my appetite for art. what immediately hit me about Perez was his dense facial hair and effectively worm handle bar moustache. as if that wasn't enough for me to respect the guy, his outlandish collection of house plants really cut the mustard for me. he sat so calmly, explaining his work and cooperation with technology as something that can be a product of "very little thought", and some how he seemed to be put on a high pedestal from the frog shaped pot that cradled something leafy just behind him. besides from his admirable facial hair and interior decoration taste, the guys art was pretty hot. he makes these visual clips of different images in a technicolor dream palette, which Perez himself describes as "manic schizophrenic", and he isn't wrong. all the aesthetic qualities of his video art summoned back memories of my dad telling me stories of his visions and experiences when taking shrooms, with the unadulterated urge to get naked and watch psychedelic patterns soar around you and inanimate objects come to life and dance before your eyes. Perez's work with Black Dice was like watching a graphic and vivid childs nightmare played at grease lightening speeds, with images of perverted monsters using the medium of Poi to communicate the frantic seizure like music across to the audience. because theres nothing like swinging balls of fire to get you going. the whole atmosphere of the video has this habit of tearing into your subconscious and waking up all that dormant energy and imagination that you've stored up over the winter months and propels it all into a galactic display of masked faces, vivid colour and moving patterns. Perez has my vote, hes a real wild card and a total b-a-b-e, kudos to him.

http://thecreatorsproject.com/en-uk/creators/danny-perez

"The possibility of complete mental and physical collapse is now very real"

the beginning of a new era; bring on summer '10. college has indeed finished for me, my exam is out the way and i never have to go back once ive signed out for good, which means my higher education has hit the next step: university. now, im not going to blow my own horn or anything, but yeah, i got into farnham UCA because they think im awesome (true story). so come september, i will blogging from the perspective of a fully fledged student, reporting wild nights, complete moral transgression and serendipitous events that involve grievous bodily harm or modification and a stomach pump in A&E. but until then, i have a summer of gorging myself into a variety of coma-like states, be it self perpetuated deep sleep coma, alcohol coma, good food coma or a bog standard unpredictable roma coma, i expect to spend my summer in semi consciousness. i have already participated in my schedule of sadistic activity to kick start this unholy vacation. the first move was to unite with fellow skank Alex to dig up the fox skull that we buried in november, and after half a litre of vodka, the idea warmed on us and we decided not to wait for daylight but make an expedition to the burial site at 00:16 with a pair of spoons, a liver full of poison and a head full of shit and total unswayable motivation. you could say we had our blinkers on as we stormed across marsh land, through thicket and over barbed wire in aim of our goal, didnt even think twice about the zombies and aliens who could have taken us. sheer determination was the tandem emotion. anyway, as you can imagine, we got no where; the spoons bent and our hands bled, so we instead sat on a broken pontoon and drank away, talking yet again about the deterioration of society and the unrelenting problems caused by government benefits. the point is, we didnt get our fox head, until the next day, where we spent a healthy 3 hours of upheaving earth with a pitch fork and a trow to find our precious skull. turns out our efforts didnt pay off because some bastard had already done the deed and discarded the skull in some near by tall grass a long time ago. devastated.

so since then ive been coaxing out my wild side in preparation for my summer in the mountains, not that it takes much encouragement, i was born to be rancid and unwashed. part of this preparation runs along the lines of my alcohol intake increasing considerably (being introduced to the double jager monster will be the end of me, im sure) and spending much time in the sun, submitting myself into a state of mild decomposition. my goal is skin that is gritty to the touch and nigh on nigerian to the eye, hair as ropey as that of repunzel, and the general aesthetic of the troll that lives under the bridge in the billy goats gruff. as for now, i have to deal with renewing my passport, sorting out my bank account, getting my phone contract either terminated or sorted out, taking another driving test on friday and going to farnham for a taster day at uni. not until i have completed these tasks can i be the care free guru i aspire to be.

liminal state.

revising in the garden is proving to be pretty relaxing and i all of a sudden appreciate mums efforts with the floral arrangements and garden furniture, it makes revising so much more revitalising to be surrounded by geraniums and pansies than in my squat of a bed room. also enjoying the company of my degenerate dog and the other worldly cats, who are pulling out the best moves today but unfortunately, my blackberry is incapable of capturing these kodak moments and can only cope with a short range still life shot of my new garden desk. i make revision seem stylish. though now my revision motivation has run dry and hit drought level, im going to continue to work in this limbo state that im in and hope that the reggae reggae coated piece of stale bread i just consumed will release some enzymes and get my mojo back annny time now.

"oh now thats just artistic..."

this is me, squinting in the sun and living up to my pet name of "wise head", ant really captured the essence of my gurning face

cumbersome as sin.

I have had one of the most single handedly self perpetuated awkward days of my life, and its these sort of awkward days that make me feel as though i need to expand in some metaphysical speculation about being awkward/unwieldy/difficult. so i have a interview for university today, which means it was the popping of my higher education undergraduate cherry, while most other 18 year olds have organised their lives in a slap dash manner and sort of already been sampling the fine life of students. i however, am stuck in my mums black-man-passion-wagon range rover getting trawled to Farnham UCA for my first interview, and in true mumma Daly fashion, mum misses the necessary exits twice on the motor way (amused myself for a while over the notion that she did not make one boob, but two, so her mistakes therefore equated to a heaving pair of tits) and i arrived at the uni unscathed but oddly on edge, full of gas and piss from extensive amounts of tea and a sweaty forehead, which always makes me look like a Klingon. so in this uni theres a handful of ripe candidates for the art foundation course and ive strolled up, lumbering my portfolio along the corridor and planted myself on one of them shitty rubber chairs that make your ass sweat like an upper lip in a curry house. my first awkward move is to sit on the chair and break the silence which the room had undoubtedly been in for quite some time by exclaiming that the squeak of the chair was not a fart, when no one had cared or probably even noticed the sound to begin with. strike one to being maladroit for me. so this time passes and i end up talking to a motor mouth girl until i was summoned to the room to get interrogated by people who think life drawing is the hub of all artistic talent.

so, they've asked me what i do in my spare time. this question i am about to ask is rhetoric and needs no answer but please-consider how would you feel if you were me- how do you break it to a group of artists that you enjoy forcing your boyfriend to take you to duck ponds to force cheap bread down the local wildlife's fragile oesophagus's ? how do you say that you enjoy disembodying dead animals and burying them with the intent to dig them up and keep the bones? and that you weave bird houses from string and hand made felt? honestly. it was awkward, and there was the queue to go red in the face, but no, i was honest and stoic, yet my honesty was received by blank faces and the topic rapidly changed.

after some more awkward eye contact and that awful feeling when you brush knuckles with an old arty bint when trying to fiddle with the zip on the portfolio, i left the interview feeling clueless and vulnerable, yet some what elated. i then went on the find the mental "grooooovy" chic i was talking to prior the interview and we got into a discussion over which serial killers we prefer. it was all followed by a dose of awkward hermitdom where i sat on a fence trying to look purposeful where the mere fact was that i had to wait 40 minutes for my ride and i couldnt be fucked to carry the portfolio anywhere else because my fingers looked like chodes. all in all im forgetting where im going with this, like most waning blogs of mine but there, 'ave it. because i cant be bothered to find a relevant picture for this blog, im going to upload the first picture i see in my file.

uh oh

theres a big fat indian boy staring at me over the top of his computer moniter across the room. im getting angry and i can smell cumin and spices from where i sit, a good 20 feet away from the creep. he looks like a human version of Baloo from jungle book, and i am nothing but an innocent mowgli, sitting here passing time while i wait for the mothership to come pick me up. been breaking a sweat from working to darn hard, running around college and doing stuff and stuff. all very important, trust. just exchanged an angry look with the fat dark boy again, now i look at him he kinda reminds me of that kid from family guy? the upside down face one, and thats making me even more aggy that now my typing has become very prenounced and overly firm, and the sound of my typing sounds like a cricket having a fit but im beyond caring because any second now im going to stand up and smash this DELL panoramic screen over his stupidly porky head. god i love the computer room.

dude.

its time for some well overdue unfathomable wisdom to erupt from my fingertips as a result of kinetic energy provided by my brain activity. despite the fact i have an intolerably dead left arm from getting my jab to prevent my fanny from getting lumps and bumps and potentially killing me and a dull ache in my right arm from throwing large stones at other large stones at the beach, i have been overtly productive with my creative skills this evening. not that it matters, normally i am being a total vegetable and even this small purge of frantic double mounting is not accounting for all the time i spend dormant and stationary in my bed, yet i have a interview for a "nice" university on wednesday and a meagre and/or sparse looking portfolio of work at the moment. hope is beginning to wane, for i feel the only way i will complete the pure magnitude of organisation and presentation is if i make an elite team who will operate the ins and outs of this portfolio until it is presentable. i will recruit the likes of rambo, charles manson, gerard butler, mother nature, leonardo di vinci and jesus to use brute strength and moral fibre to ensure my portfolio gets me into some more years of learning and avoiding getting a job. apart from that, my other news is such as i failed my driving test for the second time and am still plotting the intricate murder of the man who failed me. AGAIN. i have finished college and am currently in the throws of doing NOTHING, though the idea of getting fit and limber is something i have toyed with; the concept of having rippling abs and veins so prominent that they have a profile and thighs and buns pert enough to crack nuts. ants nuts. ants packet of KP peanuts that is. apart from that, im off to italy to get crispy and i wont settle until i have third degree burns from intense sessions of sun bathing, where i will act the sun dial or heat seeking missile and crawl around the surrounding pasture in search of the most UV. but thats a month away, until then i have my english exam, another driving test which im sure to fail and some other stuff. ALSO, during the execution of this blog, i was nearly jousted off my little perch of pillows by a moderately large spider on a rampage. 100% displeased, i chased him around for a while trying to bat him with a ruler which he very swiftly snatched from me and chased me around the the room with. no, but in all serious, i screamed like little miss muffet. on that note, i no longer feel safe in this room, nor this house for that, the bastard is no doubt going to climb back through my window after i ejected him and smother me during my sleep. next time (if there is a next time) i'll take no mercy on the arachnid kind and they will feel the force of my collins hardback dictionary and thesaurus.