We Could Steal Time

So much is happening right now! I can’t believe that we’re playing at the BAFBC dnow in a week! It seems like it was two months away only yesterday!

Starbucks is going great. I still love it. Free coffee. Free food. Amazing people. Actually having a job. It’s the bomb.

Taylor visited last weekend and a great time was had by all! Saturday was seriously one of the best days of my life. Taylor, Nathan, Riley, Bethany (a friend from Ai here) and I all drove downtown and painted a piano together on a hill overlooking Austin’s beautiful skyline as the sun was setting (there are pictures on FB!) It was just SUCH an amazing, beautiful, joyous time. It was like breathing deeply after weeks of short, shallow breaths.

A week of two before that I went to see Jenny & Tyler again in Waco with Allison and Maritz Bitz, which was a blast. After the concert, we visited this amazing coffee shop called Common Grounds (I think) and it was beautiful and the coffee was great.

Between those two events, I was in Houston for almost a week to stay with my brothers (mostly Nick) while my parents spent their 25th anniversary in northern California. I’m pretty jealous that they got to go, but it was great seeing everybody back in Htown, AND getting to play Sunday morning with Kevo, Katie, Andrew, and Mr. Bill was a blast. PLUS, Mel, Liz and I went of a photo excursion to do a double-exposure experiment with color film that turned out pretty cool.

Anyway, Gungor concert on Sunday and I’m PUMPED.

Also, dnow in a week! And I’m SUPER PUMPED.

I’m pretty much pumped to be alive right now.

Also, did I mention one of my design professors this quarter is Marc English? He’s fo real. Google him.

.Zach

There Must Be More to This Provincial Life

Everything is converging! This is going to mostly be a post about continuing and unfinished art projects.

Here I am, two weeks left of this quarter. I’ve been in Austin for 3 months, I’ve gotten a job but it hasn’t started yet (gahh!), and it’s finally cold outside. I’ve got lots of projects in the pipeline, but no money (ehh) and Saturday is cookie day! (yess!)

I’m currently working on a painting for Katie, and one for Marissa. Katie’s is going to be a fantasy-themed painting, and I’m really excited about how it’s going. Marissa’s is going to be something fancy saying “Am I lost, or just less found?” I also bought a giant canvas (2′ x 4′) to paint with something. I had an idea, but I’m not sure about it now. I wanted to paint a scene with really tall birch trees with fall leaves on a hilly landscape. And of course, in the tradition of landscapes by me, there would be mountains in the background. But what else is new. And I considered putting a lion in it, but again; what else is new?

Other than those, I just finished an assemblage thing with leaves and sticks and an old textbook I got from Goodwill called “Morphology of Plants,” that I’m going to sell at a show (hopefully) at school. I want to do two more similarly with two other textbooks I got called “Advanced Mathematic Engineering” which I would make look kind of steampunk-y and “The Science of Gemstones.” I also started a painting of one of the photos from the glow face paint shoot Eric and I did a few months ago. I’m not sure if I like it though. It’s on loose canvas and it’s started buckling.

I need to make cookie dough for Saturday! My mom asked me to make all the dough that needs to be chilled the night before so that it will be ready on Saturday. Good gravy do I love Cookie Day.

My Worst Fear As An Artist

This is a conversation between two deceased artists; one is from Heaven (the Spirit) coming to see visitors from Hell, and one is a visitor from Hell (the Ghost) come to the outskirts of heaven.

“‘When you painted on earth–at least in your earlier days–it was because you caught glimpses of Heaven in the earthly landscape. The success of your painting was that it enabled others to see the glimpses too. But here you are having the thing itself. It is from here that the messages come. There is no good telling us about this country, for we see it already. In fact we see it better than you do.’

‘Then there’s never going to be any point in painting here?’

‘I don’t say that. When you’ve grown into a Person (it’s all right, we all had to do it) there’ll be some things which you’ll see better than anyone else. One of the things you’ll want to do will be to tell us about them. But not yet. At present your business is to see. Come and see. He is endless. Come and feed.’

There was a little pause. ‘That will be delightful,’ said the  Ghost presently in a rather dull voice.

‘Come then,’ said the Spirit, offering it his arm.

‘How soon do you think I could begin painting?’ it asked.

The Spirit broke into laughter. ‘Don’t you see you’ll never paint at all if that’s what you’re thinking about?’ he said.

‘What do you mean?’ asked the Ghost.

‘Why, if you are interested in the country only for the sake of painting it, you’ll never learn to see the country.’

‘But that’s just how a real artist is interested in the country.’

‘No, you’re forgetting,’ said the Spirit. ‘That was not how you began. Light itself was your first love: you loved paint only as a means of telling about light.’

‘Oh, that’s ages ago,’ said the Ghost. ‘One grows out of that. Of course, you haven’t seen my later works. One becomes more and more interested in paint for its own sake.’

‘One does, indeed. I also have had to recover from that’ It was all a snare. Ink and catgut and paint were all necessary down there, but they are dangerous stimulants. Every poet and musician and artist, but fro Grace, is drawn away from love of the thing he tells, to love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him. For it doesn’t stop at being interested in paint, you know. They sink lower–become interested in their own personalities and then in nothing but their own reputations.’

‘I don’t think I’m much troubled in that was,’ said the Ghost stiffly.

‘That’s excellent,’ said the Spirit. ‘Not many of us had quite got over it when we first arrived. But if there is any of that inflammation left it will be cured when you come to the fountain.’

‘What fountain’s that?’

‘It is up there in the mountains,’ said the Spirit. ‘Very cold and clear, between two green hills. A little like Lethe. When you have drunk of it you forget forever all proprietorship in your own works. You enjoy them just as if they were someone else’s: without pride and without modesty.’

‘That’ll be grand,’ said the Ghost without enthusiasm.

‘Well, come,’ said the Spirit: and for a few paces he supported the hobbling shadow forward to the East.

‘Of course,’ said the Ghost, as if speaking to itself, ‘there’ll always be interesting people to meet . . .’

‘Everyone will be interesting.’

‘Oh–ah–yes, to be sure. I was thinking about people in our own line. Shall I meet Claude? Or Cézanne? Or–.’

‘Sooner or later–if they’re here.’

‘But you don’t know?’

“Well, of course not. I’ve only been here a few years. All the chances are against my having run across them . . . there are a good many of us, you know.’

‘But surely in the case of distinguished people, you’d hear?’

‘But they aren’t distinguished–no more than anyone else. Don’t you understand? The Glory flows into everyone, and back from everyone: like light and mirrors. But the light’s the thing.’

‘Do you meant here are no famous men?’

‘They are all famous. They are all known, remembered, recognised by the only Mind that can give a perfect judgement.’

‘Oh, of course, in that sense . . .’ said the Ghost.

‘Don’t stop,’ said the Spirit, making to lead him still forward.

‘One must be content with one’s reputation among posterity, then,’ said the Ghost.

‘My friend,’ said the Spirit. ‘Don’t you know?’

‘Know what?’

‘That you and I are already completely forgotten on the Earth?’

[. . .]

And without listening to the Spirit’s reply, the spectre vanished.”

from The Great Divorce by C. S. Lewis

I pray that I never fall into the trap of art for art’s sake or become only concerned with my reputation, but that my reason for art would be to tell of something greater. Or at least that it might make people a little bit more happy about things. What do you think about art for art’s sake?

Skydiving (finally)

So, I went skydiving last Friday. A week ago TODAY. Oh my goodness. It was amazing. It was like falling through a Rothko painting. Except more blue and green and white. It was like falling through big blocks of color. There was the blue sky, the white horizon, and the grey-green earth below. It was beautiful. It was also very loud. Well, it was loud until we pulled the ripcord. Then it was quiet and wonderful. The tandem guy I was skydiving with showed me how to do spins and stuff, which was probably my favorite part. He pointed out on the horizon Galveston, downtown Houston, and the Galleria area. It was crazy! Ahhhh. If you ever get the chance to do it. DO IT. It’s completely worth it.

Lately;

Oh goodness, my mind keeps telling me that it’s tomorrow.

I’m so excited for this weekend! Friends I haven’t seen in too long! Beautiful weather! (it’s supposed to be sunny with a high of 70-75 all weekend in OK) Wonderful music! Oh, Jenny & Tyler.

On a non-related note, here’s what I’ve been considering lately:

This is how I’ve observed life works: First, you aren’t old enough to appreciate how wasteful you are, or how blessed you are. Then, at around late high school to college age, you realize that you throw away so much stuff every day, and that there are so many people who don’t have on fourth of one half of on eighth of the stuff you have, so you try to fix all that. Then, you become disillusioned sometime after college. Is that how it works? That’s the only way I can think of that explains why college people are so activistic, only to be content in 10 years. idk. Maybe I’m being harsh, but I hope that my desires to help others never leave.

This is kind of spawned from a debate I was having with a friend on facebook. But anyway.

Also, go listen to the new switchfoot CD! It’s streaming on www.myspace.com/switchfoot. I did the ‘pop out music player’ thing and have been listening to it nonstop. I really love switchfoot.

Anyway, here’s a morsel from the album:

“We lock our souls in cages, we hide inside our shells, it’s hard to free the ones we love, when you can’t forgive yourself!”

Also, you should go read Donald Miller’s “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years”

That is all.

The Jesus Painter

Jesus Painter Example

Okay, so if you haven’t heard about this guy, then you can check him out by clicking here.

He’s this guy that basically paints giant pictures of Jesus with his hands and sometimes paintbrushes on stage at churches and stuff.

Well, a couple of months ago, Darren asked me if I would be interested in doing something like that one Sunday in 249 and I thought it sounded like it would be interesting, so I agreed. Today he asked me if I’d do it this Sunday on the high school side. Exciting!

We’ll see how this turns out…