Art

horikoi

Originally uploaded by meowth23′s photo diary

Found this while trolling flickr, can’t make out the detail of the work but I like the overall picture.

I’m just trying to get all my shitty designs out first to make room for the good ones.

I was going through my hard drive looking at old projects and this one is one I’ve always liked but never had the opportunity to use.
My barber wanted something a little more “blingy” and I refused.

I learned something about Maya Angelou Today.
She turned 80 on April 4.
Like many of my compatriots I read I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings but I never gave it much thought, but after hearing her interview today on NPR , I want to re-read it with a renewed vigor.
Just her speech is poetry itself. Everything she says seems to have a artistic purpose. While I was listening to the interview she seemed to teach me something new with every statement she said.
The real truth she layed down was a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay called Conscientious Objector

CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTOR
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death.
I hear him leading his horse out of the stall;
I hear the clatter on the barn-floor.
He is in haste; he has business in Cuba,
business in the Balkans,
many calls to make this morning.
But I will not hold the bridle
while he clinches the girth.
And he may mount by himself:
I will not give him a leg up.
Though he flick my shoulders with his whip,
I will not tell him which way the fox ran.
With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where
the black boy hides in the swamp.
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death;
I am not on his pay-roll.
I will not tell him the whereabout of my friends
nor of my enemies either.
Though he promise me much,
I will not map him the route to any man’s door.
Am I a spy in the land of the living,
that I should deliver men to Death?
Brother, the password and the plans of our city
are safe with me; never through me shall you
be overcome.
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death.

So Fresh.

There is nothing in the world like primary sources. Listen to the speech, don’t read the spin. Listening to King shows me where Clinton learned to speak.

guyreal: tell me about superblack
asexual_android: use it for large solid black areas
asexual_android: for CMYK jobs i thnk
guyreal: I need the digits I need the spectrum coordinates
guyreal: hit me baby hit me
asexual_android: 70C, 40M, 40Y, 100K
guyreal: that is so sexy
asexual_android: hot hot

Hugh?!
What the hell is he talking about, Aged By Cultural Reference.
Yesterday some friends of mine and I were talking about something and I made a reference to the movie SpaceBalls and they looked at me like “What movie is that?”. That really made me feel old. At that moment I realized that age determines cultural reference. Movies, shows and songs are all part of our cultural reference. When an old song comes on the radio it brings me to a different time and place. This seems to hold true for lots of people, this can be good and bad.
When I was growing up movies such as New Jack City and shows like Miami Vice burned the idea that cocaine was evil. Growing up with family crackhead exampled also helped a lot, but today it seems like there isn’t the fear and loathing of cocaine today as there was when I was growing up in the 80′s.
Aids is another example, these little gay boys don’t seem to be as afraid of the bug as they used to be. Maybe they need to see Philadelphia to let them know what the consequences are. When Aids first hit the scene you couldn’t change the channel without some image of a emaciated aids victim, scaring the shit out of you. We need some more of that. These boys think they can get over with the cocktail , what a lie.
Even in rap, lots of people don’t know the words to Criminal Minded (KRS-1), or I Ain’t No Joke(Eric B & Rakim) and try to say they are into Hip Hop. I remember when Chi Ali came out with Age is Nothin but a Number and lots of people didn’t know where the sample came from.
O Well sometimes I just feel old.

Colonel Kurtz has made his call to arms. A call that cannot be ignored. My marching orders have been sent via cyberspace, the sit down has been requested, the Gangsta shit will be discussed.
“Never get out of the boat. Absolutely goddamn right. Unless you were going all the way. Kurtz got off the boat. He split from the whole fucking program. How did that happen?”
My orders are to get off the boat, more explicitly to sink the damn thing!!!!
No rest, no R&R the enemy is too determined “The Man” :
“was dug in too deep or moving too fast. His idea of great R&R was cold rice and a little rat meat. He had only two ways home: death, or victory.”
Victory is the Only choice. . .
If you don’t understand watch Apocolypse Now 3X in a row.