That really lovely song by Karen O and the Kids featured in Where the Wild Things Are is a cover of a Daniel Johnston song.
Something about Daniel's music has always deeply resonated with me. Maybe because I deeply relate to the pain of being an artist who is constantly self-sabotaging. The Boyfriend and I went to a screening of the documentary of The Devil and Daniel Johnston on it's opening night at the Alamo Drafthouse, and at the end everyone in the theater stood and applauded wildly. Everyone except for me; I was sobbing so hard I couldn't even stand up to applaud. I think his music is too raw for most people to appreciate, but often people love covers of his songs. I'll admit, what initially turned me onto his music was Wilco's cover of "True love will find you in the end." But his simple lyrics have a way of jeering right into my heart till it hurts to breathe.
Yes. It is I. After 4 months of bootlegging shady connections, carrying my iMac to random people's homes, and 30 minute time slots at the local library, I have a legitimate internet connection.
I've decided to revamp this blog a little. While it will still function primarily as my art blog, I have decided to no longer hold back on other stuff I wanna write about. Because, the truth is, these are the things that ultimately affect the kind of art I am creating.
I feel like I've made a lot of progress since I have been back in school, but I'm still not at the level I want to be as an artist. I bought oil paints a couple of weeks ago and I feel like I opened a portal into a new world. It's mostly just messing around at this point, but I have a good feeling about this. School is good for me, but I really need to make some time to work on personal stuff more.
I don't really have internet on a consistent basis. I should have gotten a MacBook instead of the pretty iMac so I can post up at a coffee shop or something and work on this.
Naw, I loves my iMac.
I have a couple new things to post, and I shall as soon as I get good pics.
I know, I know. You are already tired of hearing about Michael Jackson. But the truth is, he affected me so deeply in my lifetime I feel like I owe it to him to write something about how passionately I have always felt about his music, and how it has affected me in my short simultaneous existence on this planet with him. This is the first celeb to die in my lifetime that has really hit close to home. So this is about him, how his music has affected me, and what I think about his tragic time on this planet. I was at work last night when I heard the news. I didn't believe it. I thought the guys in the kitchen were pulling my leg. But the texts started coming in (for it is widely known I am a huge fan) and I knew it was true. The King of Pop was dead. I was upset, but everyone wanted to make jokes. Everyone said "You are really sad for a child molester?" How could I explain in that short frame of time, what he meant to me? Anyone that knows me well knows I have a really intense relationship with music. Maybe even unhealthy. I don't know as much about music as some people. I just know what I love, I love with all I've got. I don't always know what specificly it is that makes me love a piece of music. It's a certain feeling I get when I'm listening to it; something that comes right from my gut. For just a moment, it can me feel like I'm flying, or being tossed in the air. It starts in my stomach and then I feel it all over. Maybe that sounds total cheese ball to anyone else, but that really is physically what I experience when I listen to an amazing piece of music. I don't know what makes that feeling in me, I just know the feeling. I do, however, know what piece of music was the first album to make that feeling in me over and over again, everytime I listened to it:
Dangerous by Michael Jackson. Here's how I got into to Michael Jackson. I'm nine years old, just moved to Seguin, Tx from Houston. I was absolutely miserable. I moved from a suburban neighborhood in a pretty good school district to the outlining rural land of Seguin, a shady little drug-hub of a town in the plains of south central Texas. And I hated my school. There was this weird feeling that I got when I started there, like I was late to a dance or something. Even as fourth graders, everyone at my school already had these tight little groups of friends. And a great deal of kids at my school were a. shall we say, rough crowd? I did have one friend though, Christine, who has also passed on from this world. And she gave me a dubbed copy of the only thing that was going to get me through it all. Dangerous. My favorite thing to do when I was that age was to play MJ's Dangerous on my walkman, put on the heaphones and read an R.L. Stine book. It was my number one escape. Listening to michael Jackson and reading R.L. Stine. I don't know if I can say what R.L. Stine did for me compares to what Michael Jackson did for me (other than giving me a love for reading.) Looking at the dates on Wikipedia, it's obvious what intially attracted my to his music. He was all over the fucking place that year! He had the song on Free Willie, "Will you be there;" he performed one of the most watched half time at the super bowl (only to be surpassed in terms of memorability by that of his sister's "wardrobe malfunction") and my music class learned the sign language to "Heal the world." (Thanks Ana!) I was into him like kids are into Hannah Montana today. I mean, that dude was out there. He was a huge deal. One of the few moments my parents allowed me to watch MTV was the debut airing for "Remember the time" video. I wasn't a hip kid, I was just a kid, and that was the dude that was all over the airwaves. Despite these things, my love for the music on that tape was profound, and the beginning of a huge part of my life. Those songs could just take me somewhere else, a place where I didn't share a room with my sister and fight with my brother and get picked on at school and I didn't deal with other silly things that you think makes for a terrible life at the green age of nine. I started out just listening to the big radio hits, "Black or White" and "Remember the time" but then, that was the beautiful thing about tapes. It was too much damn work to always rewind and fast foward, so you just ended up listening to the whole thing. And I would listen to it over and over again. It had everything! It had the hot dance tracks. It had the risky, slighty-erotic-but-not-too-much-for-kids tracks. It was the rock tracks. It had the more ballad-ish tacks. It had the gospel tracks. This album left me completely satisfied with life every time I let it's tape wind through my walkman. This also all happened right at the shit was about to hit the fan for MJ. They guy had an always been a media freak show. I mean, he made such an easy target of himself. And as such, it was only a matter of time before someone really tried to take advantage of him for being such a weirdo. And even though he was found innocent, and even though they had a wiretapped recording of a phone call of the kid's dad saying "If we go through with this, we win big. We win everything" and even though it was proved the kid was all fucked up on tranqs when he made the accusation (given to him by his dad,) this destroyed his image to a lot of people forever. Not me, though. I was 10 now and I was a serious fan. I began to recognize the pure genius of the albums before Dangerous, and I began to appreciate the wonder of Jackson's early career in the Jackson Five. Even as I got older and too cool for pop music, and turn all my energy into "Alternative," jamming the Cranberries and Counting Crows and Nirvanna and Pearl Jam, I still kept a secret devotion to Michael's music. When he did the duet with Janet, I was already a rocker, but I loved that video so much! I bought the single and would jam it all the time. As I started high school, I got more and more into music. Even though I had been in Seguin five years by this point, I was still having a difficult time fitting in and finding my place. So once again, I lost myself in music. It wasn't Michael Jackson this time, but I still recognized my love for Dangerous had set a standard for what I wanted out of an album. Fast forward a few years later to Michael's second accusation. This time, I couldn't stand behind him as a fan. How could it be happening again? And I admit, I completely let the media manipulate my image of him, and I decided it was time to let my love for him go. Around the time of the trial, I began dating THE boyfriend. The same one I haves today. And he had a similar childhood love for Michael, and the issue of Michael's innocence was no question for him. He knew Michael was an innocent man. For one reason or another, this was a topic that could quickly escalate into a fight. I couldn't believe his blind faith is such a creepy man! "Look at the facts!" I would say. "He's obviously very ill. He keeps getting these surgeries done to his face. He was sevrely abused as a child, and had to stay in the room as a kid while his father and brothers had sex with women. That is sexual abuse, and it probably really fucked up his perception of right and wrong." He would reply "So then, everyone who has suffered sexual abuse is a potential sexual predator?" This wasn't a question I could answer. So we usually just left the argument there. And still, every time I went out, the only music that could force me onto the dance floor was Michael Jackson's. I'm a pretty terrible dancer, and very self conscious, but "Don't stop till you get enough" was like the pied piper calling me. I had to go dance! His music is so amazing A few months ago, a ran across an article about Michael's failing health and his constant fear of his nose falling off. I started reading some more information about him, and I realized I really had let the media paint a portrait of a monster, and I ate that shit up. As did most Americans. I mean, the truth is, if there had been one shred of evidence against him, he would have gone down as a child molester. But there never was. There was never any kind of evidence that these things happened. It's true, Michael Jackson was a deeply disturbed man. He suffered intense mental and physical abuse, and was then trust into the unstable arms of fame at a young age. I mean, what would that life had done to anyone? But these things don't mean he was a malicious, bad person. It's impossible for anyone to know what happened, and it's wrong to assume he's a bad guy because of his appearance. His case was that of the greatest tragedy in American Pop culture. I think Dave Chappelle said it best (as he often does): "Yeah, just remember when you say 'Michael Jackson looks like a freak.' He did that for you, somehow. Somehow maybe he thought it would help him, 'Maybe people will like me more…' But he did it for you…" I'm glad I came to this realization, and I am glad I made my peace with Michael Jackson while he was still on this earth. I began intensely listening to his music again at this time, and it was just as amazing as I had remembered it.
There's a few things about Michael Jackson people rarely talk about. Like what a great phillanthropist he was. He donated so much money to the United Negro College Fund. He funded a center for people suffereing sever burns. His charity work was vast, and he bought art and other things to promote creative people in this country. But those stories typically took a backseat, because Michael Jackson handing over $500,000 to a college fund isn't going to sell any tabloids. I read some news stories last night, and saw a lot of pictures of fans mourning Michael. There were large groups of people dancing to his songs in the streets, people singing his songs together. This makes me happy, because I know despite all the nasty things that are being said, there's a great deal of people who have been so profoundly affected by his music. As much as he was misunderstood by the world, I know that we, his true fans, will make sure he is remembered the way he deserves to be. Michael Jackson: musical visionary, incendiary talent, of the greatest entertainers to walk this earth.
So thank you, Michael. Thank you for giving yourself to this world. You didn't always get the love you deserved, but you were very loved by your fans, and I think you knew that. There could never be another entertainer like you. And for one lonely kid feeling alienated in a small Texas town, your music meant the world to me, and has helped shape me into the person I am. Thanks for getting me through the rough times. I hope you are at peace now.
I've been making a lot of jewelry lately, but I don't have any pictures. I am out of batteries for my camera! Trust me though, they are cute ; ) I just ordered a bunch of ring bases off Etsy.com so I can start making adorably tacky rings. I like that you can buy supplies from etsy, however! I just learned the hard way that you should always check locations. The seller, who was very prompt and kind, sent me a message in somewhat choppy english, and to track my order he gave me the website for China Post. Whoops! I mean, I'm not as down on China as some, but I do try not to buy things made there; I just think it's a dangerous situation when one country makes most of the goods for another country. But I realized if I had bought them from an American seller, that seller would have probably bought them from China before selling them to me. So... I guess it can't be avoided. I've also been drawing some lately, just silly things in my sketchbook. I think I have to make sketchbook time like working out or something, where I have a set time and I make myself do it. Back to resin!
I don't know if this is finished. I think I need to finess the spider a bit, I just kind of threw him on there. But overall, I am happy with my first real attempt at chalk pastels.
I need to get to selling stuff on Etsy. My money situation is bleak. At best.
I had the worse time trying to get a good photo of this thing. I don't think I succeeded. Oh well, it's what I have, it's been submitted to the contest. I'm not expecting much, I'm just glad I finished the stupid thing and now I never have to look at it again.
Man, I just remembered I promised a description of the subject matter of this upon completion. Ugggggggg, okay.
So a while back, I drew a self portrait of myself that I liked. But many people that saw it said something to the effect of "You are much prettier than this in real life." Which I always took kind of sweetly. But then I changed my mind about it. A fellow saw it and said "What? This is terrible. You didn't draw yourself pretty. Really, you are a terrible artist. You so goregeous, and this isn't!" I took great offense to this. Why, as a female artist, would my primary concern when rendering myself be that I "draw myself pretty?" I would much rather be an amazing artist than be pretty! If a guy drew himself tired or ugly or however is was he was really feeling that day, everyone would say "Wow, I can really see what you were feeling." No one would say "Silly boy, you are more handsome than this!" I realize this guy was just trying to flatter me, but I was offended that he thought I would rather hear "you're pretty" than "You are a great artist." But the sad thing is most women would rather hear they were pretty then to hear they were great at something other than being looked at. Why as women are we conditioned to believe this is the most important thing in the life, the number one priority, to be beautiful? I'm not going to lie to you and make claims I am above this. I'm on the same self-depreciating cycle most women are. I constantly worry I am too fat, my skin is looking too old, I am too broken out, my hair isn't right, my make-up doesn't match, the same old who-could-love-such-an-ugly-fat-thing all women go through. This is only scratching at the surface of a much bigger issue of gender equality that sadly is still so prevalent in this country. Yes, women are given (mostly) the same opportunities as men, but the non-stop obsession about our appearances that we have been bombarded with our whole lives definitely holds us back. How can you reach your potential as a human being if you are constantly worried about how attractive you are? Instead of this situation improving for women, it's now getting worse for men. Boys are now also bombarded with images of impossibilities they are supposed to achieve in their appearance. Steroid use is continually on the rise, and many guys do real damage to their bodies trying to achieve "perfection." Or some men are so insecure about their looks they won't venture out far into the world at all.
So! I give you The Terrible Artist, an over-idealized self portrait of a stupid pretty girl. The nosebleed? You tell me.
School is done and I am feeling reflective. This could get a little sappy. But don't say I didn't warn you. Man. I can't think of a time in my life when I dealt with more stress than this past quarter. Granted it was all self inflicted stress. I may be making a "B" in a class, and this upsets me. Thinking about how a B is upsetting cracks me up though. I mean, at any given point in my previous academic career I would be stoked about passing, let alone a B. It feels good to know I can change. I was having a beer with a friend the other night, and she commented I was one of the hardest working people she knew. I had to laugh, and said something like "That's definitely a new addition to my personality." I later related this conversation back to the boyfriend, and he said "But that's not true. You've always been a hard worker. It's just focus you lacked. Focus is the new addition to your personality. People have always told you were lazy and so you lived up to that expectation, but think about every job you've ever had." And it's true, I've always busted ass at my job, whatever job it was. It's true about people, we live up to our expectations. I had been told since I was a kid that I was lazy. I don't blame anyone, I guess I was a tough case. No one could see there was a neurological issue holding me back from success in school, they saw a bright child refusing to do what she was supposed to do. I think I never really came clean to anyone about what was going on. I always said I lost my homework, but the truth was I wasn't doing it. And then when it became obvious I wasn't doing any work in school, I acted like it was because I was so above doing whatever silly homework those silly teachers laid out for me. I never looked anyone in the eye and said "I'm not doing my homework because I can't make myself write out all those words." "I'm not doing my homework because I was so spaced out in class I have absolutely no idea what's going on." "I'm not doing my homework because I don't even know what I am suppose to be doing for homework." I can't blame myself though, either, because I was just a scared kid trying to save my ass. I don't know why I thought I would be in more trouble telling the truth; I suspect I wasn't so scared of getting in trouble as I was, even as a kid, afraid of finding out something was wrong with me. I walked around feeling like something was terribly wrong with me and not wanting anyone else to know. Most of the time I felt like I was crazy. When I was in high school I would have these talks with myself about how this year was going to be different, how I was going to get it together and do well. I was going to make everyone proud of me again, like when I was little. But of course, it never happened, and I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me, so I let everyone else fill in the blank: I was lazy. Even after I was in school at Texas State and I found out I did indeed have some learning disabilities (or for the politically correct, "learning differences") I didn't realize I could change. I was at a school I knew wasn't right for me or what I wanted to do in life, and even though i could have made the best of the situation and tried to figure a new plan out, I didn't. I did what I had always done. I crashed and burned and sat around feeling sorry for myself. I was at a state school, known for not being particularly hard, and I couldn't even make it there? It just made me feel lazier and crazier than ever. Well, I am here today to tell you I, Lindsay Schmitt, am not lazy. I am driven and hard working. I don't know what the future holds for me and my career as an illustrator, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to fulfill my dream. I know now I was scared for the future before. At Texas State, I was unfocused because I didn't have a clear path I was following. And I need that; I need goals, and I need to believe I can meet those goals. I now understand how very detrimental these things are to anyone's success. You can make goals for yourself, but you have to really believe in your gut you can meet those goals. Why am I writing all this for potential public consumption? Because you need to know you can change too. Maybe you are like me, and you have believed something about yourself for so long, you think it's like the color of your eyes or the hand you write with; just a natural fact about you and there's nothing you can do about it. But you're wrong. You can change. You can stop sitting around, feeling sorry for yourself and the way everything turned out. It's not easy. You have to witness something in yourself that shows you are able to transform, and this the hardest part. I also write this because I think people need to understand how the words you chose to use to kids can have such devastating effects. Again, I don't blame anyone, not my parents or teachers or myself; I can look back as an adult and see myself as a trying child no one knew what to do with. In a way, it's kind of flattering everyone thought I was so smart there couldn't really be anything wrong with me. And now that I am where I am, I don't regret a single thing, not even that self-loathing I knew as a kid. It's all shaped who I am and brought me where I am now, and I'm happy with that. But still, we must be careful of the things we chose to say to a child. It's hard to remember how kids absorb every little word we say, even when they don't act like it. But every time you tell a kid "You can't," it's going to drive the nail home in her mind that she can't. I realize how self-righteous all of this probably sounds. But it's my stupid blog and I can write whatever I want on here. Okay, no more long ramblings for a while. Now that I am a free woman I will post more things soon, and update more frequently.
It is finals time, and I decided to take a little break from frantically working to update this thing. I haven't been very good about posting work as I do it, so I have a lot of catching up to do. Robot Envy, 11" x 14" Acrylic on panel
I wasn't really happy with this one, I kept changing my mind on what to do with that assignment and ended up with some nice things that don't really fit together. At least the robots are cute I guess. And that's rust, not blood. Everyone in my class was like "Why is the robot bleeding?"
Who wants cake?
Self portrait update. I have a week to finish! But I will. Don't you fret.
36" x 36" This is my drawing three final. I think I'm finished. I'm not sure though. It's way sparkly, you can't tell in the picture. I'll get a better picture of it.
but I just watched Bon Iver clip. So lovely! The people coming in the door, the dog, what a real performance. It's so cool how sometimes the most casual feeling things can touch such perfection.
I'm working on this large pastel piece for my drawing class, and it looks as if someone laid across it while I went into the other room. So funny, because I was just bragging that she was finally learning not to walk across whatever I am working on on the floor.
I should have sprinkled some glitter on her before I took the picture.
I will be adding stuff to my etsy shop this week (I know, it's quite overdue.) So check it.
So I participated in my very first SCAD Sidewalk Arts festival this weekend. Students, Alumni, and potential students were all allowed to participate. You go to sign up, they assign you a square and give you a box of Prang chalk, and you go to town! I wasn't really planning on doing a square, and I was definitely overwhelmed by the thousands of people crammed in the park, walking up and down the sidewalk, watching people work. I felt shy, but a friend convinced me I should do one, so I went and signed up. I had no game plan, so I drew a cupcake, for no real reason at all.
I had a lot of fun, even though my square was the sunniest square in the damn park and I got a little dehydrated (this was mostly due to poor planning.) I'll definitely do it again next year, with an actual game plan. And people seemed to like what I did! Here are some other fine works of art from the festival (most finer than mine):
I can't believe it's already midterms. I guess it's because we are on the quarter system at SCAD, but man, the time just flies by. Before I realize it, I will have graduated and be trying to enter the professional world! Scary! But exciting. I just got back my first assignment in Drawing III and thought I would post it here.
The assignment was to cut/tear a 22"X30' paper into two 11"X30" and make two drawings of the same subject matter, one vertically formated, one horizontal. I think the vertical one is much more successful. I used china marker, which was a new material to me. We could draw anything we wanted and I was very boring and drew my plants on my front porch. Speaking of plants... this is maybe unrelated to art endeavors, but I have attempted to start a patio garden. I'm mostly growing herbs, and I have a tomato plant and two pepper plants. I didn't know how well the veggies would do in pots. I came back into town on sunday and to my great surprise... I have some baby tomatoes! I can't believe I haven't killed it and it might actually produce fruit. I know, my life is so exciting. My peppers have been growing really slowly, and I haven't really expected much of them, but while I was admiring my teeny tiny tomato, I saw this lil' guy: A bloom! So maybe I will have peppers. But maybe not.
I have more jewelry, and I think I'll be able to start selling this weekend! I'll post more about that later though, because I really need to do some homeworks. Lots and lots of homeworks. Hasta.
Well, the laboratory is up and running! And I have hit a few problems, but resin is so much fun these problems have not discouraged my jewelry making plans! I'm not sure what's happening, but most of my new batches are not curing correctly. My mixing ratios are probably off; it would really help if I had a small digital scale to weigh out the resin when I mixed it instead of eyeballing it. I'll just keep on keeping on and see what happens. Here are some successes! (And some adorable failures) Most of these have completely cures, but a couple are still sticky.
The stuff I typically have made in the past...
I must credit Johnny for this idea...
Sprinkles! I totally stole this idea while cruising Etsy.com to check out the competition. Most resin sellers make these, and they sell! So why not.
The objects you see embedded are little thingies I have made out of polymer clay. It's super easy to work with; I've been playing around with it since I was 11 or 12, and I have a whole bunch I have been lugging around with me. It acutally works amazingly well with the resin, and I am glad to have finally found a purpose for it!
This is a little polymer clay strawberry I embedded in a big heart, and it didn't cure correctly. I am so bummed, because is that cute or what?
I haven't been very good about keeping up with this already! The reasons for this are A.) I am a busy busy bee with school B.) My camera is out of batteries C.) I am a terrible person.
But! I am about to start making resin pieces again and I am so so excited! I ordered all the stuff I need online, and it even came today! But I was napping, and didn't answer the door in time. How sad. I've got some great ideas for jewelry, and as soon as I have some stuff made, I will post it here for your viewing pleasure.
I need to post my stuff from my last two quarters in school, so here are some pieces I did for my Drawing II class, my first quarter at SCAD:
I do love this one. Still lifes are boring, but at least it's creepy Dollybear? We had to draw a tool, so I drew the tool I use most often Dollyface! First self portrait
I have a photographer friend and I think I might employ her to reach me how to photograph my work. I am lacking in these skills. Also, I am not sure how to get these pictures to fit properly. When I view them in the blog, some have been cut off a little. Oh well. Time for class!
