first and 15

my canvas was puddled, gesso was like glue to my feet, and so i started acrylic underpainting, large brushes, the first three and a half minutes, the choppers flying through flare smoke, forest of the war, napalm strike, without much contrast in dark yet, it was too wet to get oils in there, but my release was blowing pigment as smoke at the end of my day. im exhausted. but it felt good to paint, or it felt horrible to paint as well. my body is killing me, my head hurts and i need to eat something, vikram will give me reiki soon, and people say ive used more color than theyve ever seen, so overall i think it was a good start, a good place to begin, the birds and river behind me, my feet red and yellow, my heart pounding at times, but friends coming to save me for smoke breaks, tho i had a cigarette in my mouth for the whole time. stuart advised me to put a tarp over it due to the shit weather we've been having, even tho i think i am detached and want the world to take this thing from me, its probably a good idea, ill post some snapshots later, after i recuperate.

changes and news.

after long talks with relja, i have decided to paint the piece outside, on the ground, in the elements, as another element, more evidence, i think. it could ruin things, or it could melt the oil off the canvas, but i guess its war, no?
so without further wait heres the video journal part one.

back from spain.

alot has solidified with this trip to spain, especially with the exposure to war soil, and goya (like we all knew that wouldnt happen.) barry and i filmed the first video interview in our hotel window, fitting place due to the barrio surrounds with policia in the middle. ill edit it and it will be up by this weekEND. its reiterating alot of the points ive already made here on blogworld, and sort of clarifies some of the struggles i am dealing with being an american by birth painting something that we are famous for but have no actual resonance with, even when our family and friends are shipped off, they are just that, shipped off, prepackaged to be returned prepackaged or way to fucked to have a word for.
ivan and i had coffee at the castel de montjuic, a place where one can feel the beauty and horror, a place where vomit and chills are a sideeffect. hes seen blood, hes seen war's deadly ring and we sat drinking nescafé between spanish fascist howitzers. then the sun cut through the fog like the moon looks, on the nite of a lunar eclipse. it was a wierd ride. faces in the rocks, tags on antiaircraft guns.
sorry i gotta use jim morrison to end this one,
take me, spanish caravan, take me away.
the painting starts monday.

framerate.

if you havent voted for me on ideablob please do, the link is to the right of this post,

i had a rough whiskey nite, last nite, wondering if my objectification of war as social comment and autobiography is the worst form of lying possible. (ivan, bunnie and barry had to clean up after me, and ivan had to walk me home, well not walk me basically carry me... but i made it.)
the montenegrans who have seen "real" war, have seen the blood in the streets i think i can paint, have been so helpful, too deep even with the language barrier.

i cannot understand how they can respect my work, which they do, because i cant handle they fact that i might be onto something. moreso, that it feels like lies, but relja told me that it is the same war, whether ive been there or not, the things, the selfimposed struggles i have been through are the same as there, and because they only speak from their heart i must take it into mine.
i dont like it at all. but they dont know lies like i do, and maybe there is truth in my work that i refuse to see.

i leave for barcelone and madrid on friday morning, to disrupt ARCO 08 with an action piece, and flyer the hell out of every single dicksucker there. but aside from the shameful selfpromotion that i am so good at, GOYA!!! RIBERA!!! VELAZQUEZ!!!

so again not to belabor the point, please vote for me at ideablob, and tell everyone about it, and as many rolodexes that need to be opened, please break em open.

i start the actual painting the day we get back from espagne. i have been looking for a map of the nung river, or even a vietnam river map, it can be jpg format, i dont mean a real map, i really just need the line of the river.

elements. new ideas.

painting as film.
installation as evidence.
movement as dialogue.
(see movie clip)




*this needs some time to sit with me and others in the project as a conceptual theme for the work.
the 100meters is here, size and gesso are my work for the week. that and hashing it out with the internet.

shoulder pain, head spins.

no i wasnt breakdancing today, ive been sitting in front of this godamn machine when i should be sketching, notetaking and watching. but its been network and update city today. in a place as quiet as pont aven, its real loud.
so here comes the begging, help! web designers, people with land in *******, disenchanted soldiers of moral fortune, funds or eggandcheese sandwiches (which apparently they dont make here, theres eggs and cheese and bread in abundance but they dont combine them like im used to) please send via email, paypal, or par avion.
ill have a lot more stuff up here tomorrow, i have some simplistic design for the main domain, apocalypsestill.com
some emails to comrades and potential resources, be patient.
i also get my 100m tomorrow, and pigment when i get back from barcelone.
its getting there i promise.

the beginnings.

its getting started.