not a god

I recently recieved in the mail a bumper sticker with the words www.replant.ca printed on it. With it came a canadian one dollar bill. If you're canadian, you'll know that canada hasn't had a one dollar bill in a long time. The whole experience might make an interesting story, but I'm not going to tell it.

Instead, I'm going to tell you why I am not a god. It all started three days ago, when I recieved in the mail a dvd I'd ordered from a brilliantly creative musician. Believe it or not, he's also a Christian. That's right, folks, you heard it here. He's a Christian, and he makes great, creative music. Go figure.

His name is Josh Garrels. That's not what's important to the story, either. What matters is that Josh writes music that is positive and uplifting and still good. This has forced me to think about myself as a painter, and to re-remember that I'm not a god.

See, round about the Enlightenment, philosophers got their grubby paws on painting, and painters started to think of themselves as geniuses (geneii?), the whom of which are basically the gods of humanism, a religion that owns the western world and argues that people are big piles of unactuated positive potential. Up until that time, painters were just craftsmen, like jewellers or carpenters.

Suddenly, painters became Painters, and started spelling lots of words (like ART) with capital letters. This was pretentious. Unfortunately, no one realized this and today you can buy a painting of a red square for nine million dollars.

Josh Garrels and a canadian one dollar bill have reminded me that I don't have to "buy it", so to speak. I don't have to sit here on my self-proclaimed pedestal and act all hoity-toity. As of this day, therefore, I (in my artistic capacity) am a craftsman. Sometimes I may say bright things and be thought smart. And if anyone wants, I'll paint them a red square and charge them enough money to sponsor a hundred thousand children. If I can help it, though, I'll no longer be pretentious. Because (to quote myself), "being pretentious is like pretending, only it's not any fun."

ho ho ho

christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat

this just in

Okay, everyone out there in la la land. Listen up! I've just received word that a ruler is coming who's going to bust open all your preconceived notions about what is good and right. He's going to expose you and me for the hypocrites we are. He's going to challenge us to shift our entire paradigms - off ourselves and onto a way of thinking utterly alien to us.

Here are some of the elements of his program, handed down to you at great expense (and even the deaths) of many dedicated agents. Do not take it lightly! Get this: we're supposed to "cease storing up money". We will be required to "die to ourselves" and "consider others better than ourselves". And here's the real kicker, this so-called "Prince of Peace" expects us to give our hard earned money away to people who need it more. He doesn't even bother, in this document, to exclude all those lazy poor people who got that way through their own indolence.

Trust me, people, this guy is dangerous. He will make you uncomfortable. He'll ask you to change. He may even demand that you stop spending so much time on yourself and your own betterment. Watch out! C-day is only a week away!

this morning

Blank pages are aweful things, and often provoke an onslaught of temporary total amnesia. I sit down to write something here, and suddenly I forget my name, my life, everything. So instead of putting down some greatly written snippet, I end up rambling on about nothing. That's what this is - a ramble.

I found out on teusday that I'm to supervise a contract for a twenty-eight person tree planting camp this summer after our first contract with my regular supervisor is done. This means that I will be the guy on whom I am used to dumping. Supervisors can't dump. They just suck it up and smile. They take the blame for everybody in their camp's mistakes and get resented for everybody in their camp's successes. Still, it's a great opportunity to learn and be challenged, so I'm glad of it.

Another thing I've noticed is that I haven't written any poetry in a long while - well nigh on forever. I wonder why that is? I have, however, completed two new paintings, which I may someday even put up on this site. I do believe I may be improving, but I'll let you see them and be the judge.

Next time, I promise, I'll come more prepared. I'll give you a nugget of wisdom that will change your life and cause you to shed those unwanted pounds (but only if you're british). For now, though, good morning. And, in case I don't see you, good afternoon, good evening and good night.

indie

I have recently become a fan of the independant music scene. Not in the sort of way that derives its value from being "other" than something else (eg, mainstream pop), but just because it's better. There's something really gritty and authentical about a small coffee shop and an unpolished, starving musician belting out his or her soul. I'd like to qualify that, though, by saying that if any of those starving artists get the opportunity to become part of the mass-marketing machine, they should do it. Etertainment is only lying if you believe it's real, and it's not your fault that people are generally sort of stupid.

Since I rarely go to shows and almost never buy cds, none of this really matters, but I just thought I should let my mom and the three other people who read this know where I sit.

barkingreed

Up to this point, you've undoubtedly been blown away by the succulence of this sweet website - it's butter-smoothness and uber-cool. I think you shouldn't let those feelings of adoration go to waste. I think you should send five bucks to Jon Reid of Waxhaw, North Carolina, so he can furnish his new house.

Or you could write him and tell him how nifty he is. All together on three, OK? One, Two, Three... Thanks, Jon!!!

OK, got that out of my system.

furthermore

Upon recent introspection, I have been forced to admit that I have had and am still having an intriguing, wonderful life. Having thus epiphanized myself, I've found it necessary to prompt myself to share all the wondrous happenings that have... um... happened.

First of all, let's talk about Edgar - who, as an alleged member of the canine species, is a pervert and a poop-head and, let's face it, a genuine mutt. Beyond that, though, he's a cute little fella who has some interesting picadilloes, like grubbing. For some reason, Edgar has an uncanny ability to sniff out plump little grubs and other grub-like things on the ten foot by ten foot square of grass where we take him to "do business". After business has been dispensed with, Edgar generally is quite recalcitrant about returning to the house. Some days, however, he positively drags me around back, down the stairs, and indoors, where he proceeds to flop down secretively on the rug in the kitchen. This is my cue to pry open his mouth, where I inevitably find a grub, a caterpillar, or a grubcaterpillar-like stick.

Now, don't you feel enriched?

new paintings

For my scores of adoring relatives, let it be known that I will be showing some art during the month of December, 2004 at Ethical Addictions coffee House in Langley, BC, and during the month of January, 2005 at the Department of Safety in Anacortes, WA.

Furthermore, let it be known that Edgar the puppy was bitten on the face today by some sort of caucasian-terrier-mix and recieved a gaping wound below the left eye. The assault occurred around two o'clock in the park and was totally unprovoked. Anyone who can prove that this older, smaller, more agressive dog has been visciously kicked will receive a hug from me, the artist. Thank you.