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Tag: weirdness

A Few Videos Full of Artistry

A Few Videos Full of Artistry

I don’t know why I haven’t ever seen Father John Misty’s music video for “Date Night.” It’s my favorite from his album God’s Favorite Customer, and this weirdness is all the better for racing by in under three minutes.


Jim Henson did a pilot for a proposed show in 1962 called Tales From the Tinkerdee. Typically brilliant and gloriously silly, it features Kermit as a minstrel who sings his lines as well as his songs.


Speaking of weird and silly, there are tons of Kids in the Hall sketches I think about now and then, and some I still am not sure I fully understand, but love them anyway. “Potato Salad,” a paean to domestic goddesses and the disorientation of daily mundanity resonates, but also makes me laugh really, really hard. Bruce McCullough’s recurring housewife character is both inane and charming.

The Time Dilation Effect on a Rainy Day

The Time Dilation Effect on a Rainy Day

Today was a strange day. It seemed to stretch on for hours longer than it’s allotted time, when no matter what I did, there was still more time before work.

But it was nice, and reminded me of the sensation you get when you lose yourself in the flow of art making. Time just seems to open up and you lose yourself in the work. More of those days, please.

What Was Broken Is Now Repaired, for Now

What Was Broken Is Now Repaired, for Now

The only thing you can count on about the internet is the weird superimposition of the robustness and fragility of data. Sometimes your database gets corrupted and you lose posts. Sometimes there are backups to restore. It’s both. That’s weird.

Cold Nights and the Intensity of Feeling Alive Mirror Creative Shifts

Cold Nights and the Intensity of Feeling Alive Mirror Creative Shifts

This is weird, but with winter, the shifts outside in temperature and severe weather can be like those inside.

The cold can be bracing, even exciting, provided we have someplace to be and to warm up again. Starting a creative project can be similar. If we have an idea of the end, of where we might be going, what it looks like to be done, the work can be a thrill.

Going in completely blind is really rare, and scary. We can shut down before we know it. We don’t need a road map, but we also don’t want a completely open-ended journey where we could be gone for a day or for 20 years. We lose patience and enthusiasm with a random wandering. Deciding on some kind of end is as good as knowing there’s a fire at home after the long walk from the bus stop.

The Weird and Haunting Final Duchamp Sculpture Is Seasonally Appropriate

The Weird and Haunting Final Duchamp Sculpture Is Seasonally Appropriate

I’m sharing this because it’s one of the few artworks I find actually scary. Incredible and fascinating, but also scary. It’s not a sudden, frightening type, but a deeper, more primal kind.

We look through a tiny hole and are confronted with a prone, naked body, only partially seen and still, in the sticks and brush. It might be catching an intimate moment, or it might be something grisly.

Marcel Duchamp spent more than 20 years working on Étant donnés in secret. His hidden dedication is one of the components of the work.

Something else—I’m ever so salty when I see a piece I like a lot and want to know more about its making, but I usually see simply “mixed media” in the medium area of the title card with no elaboration. What did you use? Gorilla bones? Model airplane parts? Camel spit?? It’s so often frustrating. Duchamp made sure we know damn well what went into his last creation:

Mixed media assemblage: (exterior) wooden door, iron nails, bricks, and stucco; (interior) bricks, velvet, wood, parchment over an armature of lead, steel, brass, synthetic putties and adhesives, aluminum sheet, welded steel-wire screen, and wood; Peg-Board, hair, oil paint, plastic, steel binder clips, plastic clothespins, twigs, leaves, glass, plywood, brass piano hinge, nails, screws, cotton, collotype prints, acrylic varnish, chalk, graphite, paper, cardboard, tape, pen ink, electric light fixtures, gas lamp (Bec Auer type), foam rubber, cork, electric motor, cookie tin, and linoleum

So Often We Want to Keep Special, Resonant Media to Ourselves, Even Though It Deserves a Wider Audience, and That’s So Unfortunate

So Often We Want to Keep Special, Resonant Media to Ourselves, Even Though It Deserves a Wider Audience, and That’s So Unfortunate

Case in point, so many internet things that are amazing and have criminally few eyeballs and earholes attached to them. I understand the magic of discovering treasures that are meaningful to you. I’m sad that it’s such a widespread impulse to resist sharing those things with everyone else. It’s the Daffy Duck mentality, a throwback to post-infancy, when we desired everything for ourselves, before we learned empathy.

One of the reasons I’m continuing to work on this blog is to share those things, to resist the hoarding impulse. Because it’s in the sharing that we grow, it’s in the mutual delight of discovery that we support and enhance each other. This is a better way to live.

All that to say, watch the latest BJ Rubin show. It’s full of music that’s so far out on the fringe it’s fuzz floating away on the breeze. It’s weird, it’s unique, and the world needs so much more of that right now.

Intermittence

Intermittence

Internet has been patchy here the last couple days. I write posts, they haven’t always got up on time. But such is life: a little on, a little off. It moves on its own schedule, in its own time.

Easier to view our work as life itself, growing in its own time. But stagnating, shriveling, dying if it isn’t done day by day, a little at a time. Neglect to keep adding to practice and it goes nowhere.

It’s a weird, hidden world where all that grows into being, a counterintuitive Upside Down that mirrors our regular world, but is . . . just off ways both obvious and subtle. Pouring our hearts and souls into that world is our pleasure and our obligation.