I went to go sit down at the bar counter in between band sets to grab another half-priced beer from the advertised Taco Tuesday deal. I dug inside my black vegan leather jacket to stuff my phone in one of the tiny pockets and asked the bartender to add another beverage to my tab. I squeezed juice from the fresh wedge of lime that hung onto the rim of the of my glass into the chilled Corona and gazed around at the group of people loudly chatting away. I was there to get some photos for a couple of the bands that I covered in a few of the articles that I wrote for an online publication. It was late to be out here on a work night, and I was already exhausted from the long day of editing and scheduling content. However, my tune changed after hearing from the person who slid into the bar stool next to mine. (more…)
I didn’t have access to a pen and paper. No ink blots were to be left as stains on my hands and parchment. There were no sticky notes around, no computers or phones to type with, and no notepads to doodle in. It was then that I knew that I wouldn’t be able to think.
At times, the only way I can dissect and delineate my thoughts is to write them down. I’ll have vague ideas in my head, stories sitting on the edge of my tongue, but no way of describing what’s bouncing around inside my head through word of mouth. (more…)
There’s an abandoned house tired with cracks that reveal its age. It is wearing thin of its drywall, and the structure seems to degrade and crumble right before the eyes of onlookers. It’s abandoned—but full. The white walls filled to the brim with large black letters, characters and shapes that have been strung together into a novel. The Chongqing Novel House in China draws hundreds of wanderers to the house that has itself become a story.
Scrawled on the walls by an anonymous hand is a tale of adventure and heroism. As you move within the house, you see diagrams and images which correlate along with the themes and the messages within the story, and by the house’s end, you’re left wondering, why? (more…)
“Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.”
-Vincent van Gogh
Brilliant gold and bright yellow paints softly emerge from fields of rich greens. Pictures that are hand painted bloom on top of the large silver screen. My eyes widen a bit as I stare at the emerging images, inspired by famed Dutch Post-Impressionist painter, Vincent Willem van Gogh, that has now come to life.
I was finally able to sit down at my local indie movie theatre to watch the film, “Loving Vincent,” the world’s first fully painted feature film directed by Dorota Kobiela and Hugh Welchman last week, and I was not disappointed. (more…)
“What is art?” A short older lady with graying hair asked the high school intermediate art class. She waited for the small group of students sitting behind art supplies that were laid out on top of long wooden folding tables to slowly raise their hands. She pointed at a girl sitting near the back of the room. “Yes, you.”
“Art has to be beautiful,” she paused for a moment. “It should be a realistic reflection of all the good things God has created.”
Mind you, I was attending a private Christian school, and everything anyone said about anything had something to do with Jesus.
“Okay, but what about the post-modern art we see nowadays in pop-up galleries and museums?” She started to walk slowly down the row of parallel tables towards the back of the room. “What about the ‘art’ (she threw up air quotes) that isn’t realistic?” (more…)