5ive: Hesperus (updated)

This doesn't really count as something I forgot, but I needed somewhere to upload it to show Shane, because he's using AIM Express at work and can't transfer files, and feels the need to bitch about it every time I talk to him.

Exposed is exposed...

I never have (read: make) the time to keep a sketchbook these days.
A few of my favorites, 2001—2004, sorry for the shitty photos and pretentious wood floor. I have another sketchbook from 2000—2001, but I'm too embarrassed to post anything from it, yet. For now, please go ahead and steal any of these ideas – and improve on them – so I can steal them back again.

Sooner rather than later... (part 2)

...Where the fuck is my key? I thought to myself, I can't be this gone. I was combing the apartment now, all conversation, all other senses pushed back towards the walls, that singular focal point inflating in my head, blocking them all out. The fact that I was already holding a set of keys made my state of mind seem that much more apparent, and the apartment gradually emptied itself as my search eased into a routine, self-assuring and utterly false. It was pretty apparent after enough cycles that I wouldn't find it, I would have to continue this search when I was aware enough to, if I could even find a way back in again without that key. And it was right in that moment, as I stepped out of my rotting apartment and into thin air, the click of the self-lock mechanism ringing out in the cold, that the convenience of it all occurred to me. And I realized it wasn't an accident, it wasn't forgetfulness, it wasn't because I was high; I knew exactly what I was doing. I'd succeeded in containing it all in one space - all the dreams, all the expectations, all the memories of her, all the missed opportunities, all the empty days. And I'd shoved them into the corners, mixed them in with the heaps of dust, like there wasn't a difference. I'd contained it all in that apartment, that entire year, because it's not like I could ever get it back anyway. And I wanted to forget it. I wanted to lock myself out of that part of my mind, and lose the key forever.

Stuck in an Old Year.

Here's a couple shirt designs I did for the band Jesu that were never used. The first design is around a year old, it didn't make the cut because the style was not suited for the band at all, but I really liked how it turned out. The second one is more recent, and it was initially approved but then cut later on because they had too many shirts going to print - and just between you and me, internet, I think they liked the other choices better. Mostly I'm just partial to both of these designs because they were based off some of the more vivid dreams I've had, and I'm obviously biased because of that and liked their feel. I'll probably end up re-hashing these ideas in other stuff over the next couple years - or at least until I start having more surreal creative dreams, or start taking more hallucinogens.

Sooner rather than later, genius invents a tool to show the world what it means when I'm in a ______ mood.

Most of my friends were in town last week for Christmas, and a couple of them told me I really needed to start a blog - "even I have one," was Chris' justification. And maybe I was completely obliterated (I'll fill you in on this eventually) and in a very impressionable state, or maybe I'd had the idea already a while back and then forgotten about it, or maybe Chris' statement was that on-point, but I couldn't really argue against it. I couldn't say that getting a blog would be a cop-out from my real goal of putting together a portfolio website, as if a blog is that much less legitimate. And I couldn't tell them that writing is not something I do very naturally or quickly, and I'll just end up spacing out for hours on this shit. Like I am right now. And I couldn't even bring myself to mock the idea of blogging in general, my usual defense. All I can say is, enough swimming against the current, this time I'll go with the flow and see where I wind up. Sorry I was holding out on you, World.