ok, so i don't really feel like writing but i'm sick of seeing that picture of the fly. i'm sure i've already scared away a good amount of potential bookers/signers/suitors.

when i'm on the road i keep having the romanticized picture of what it'll be like when i finally get a period time to chill at home. this image is pretty unoriginal. it usually involves me laying in a hammock, sipping on pink lemonade. often i'm wearing a fisherman hat. sometimes i'm a middle-aged white guy.

but enough about my fantasies, my point is that it's never as great as i imagine it. instead i'll come home and find myself busier than ever, yet still feeling incredibly dormant, stagnant, unproductive, fiending to get onto the road again. it's a vicious vicious cycle. working at home--it's extremely overrated. there's a very farty feeling about having your roommate come home late at night to find you sitting in the exact same farty place you were sitting when she left, spazzing out to the same zap mama song on rotation for the past 4 hours.

but welcome to my reality. i like to talk a lot about the "ways and wonders of being a spoken word artist" but hardly ever talk about the whole other side of my life as a graphic designer. definitely, if i had to choose between my two artforms i would choose poetry in a heartbeat. maybe a lot of it has to do with ownership. i write when i want to write, but i design when other people want me to design. i haven't created any personal visual art for myself in ages. design is the art that i am attached to with my mind, over my soul. and so i design for other people. it's a very trippy feeling to create something knowing that it's going to be completely ripped apart, maimed, mutated into something that someone else wants it to be. it's an even trippier feeling to not have that bother you. since it's just a mind attachment, not soul. not like your poetry, where you lay each line down so fragilely, how you go at ends reflecting on every audience eyebrow arched awkwardly, catch even the slightest hint of hollowness in a response.

but even still, what draws me to all of it is the reaction of the audience, or the client. it's what will have me in front of the computer for hours after i've finished a website, reloading it over and over again hoping to catch a glimpse of the experience of someone seeing it for the first time. like as if after the 5,000th reload my senses will become virginalized for me to see it for the first time. i wonder, what it must be like to be presented a piece of art that is yours but that you did not create.

how can i put it? design is like that girl that you had a small crush on in high school but didn't understand why because you didn't really find her that appeal in the first place, but she did one thing that you found particularly hot, like...i don't know...twirl a baton very well...and it made you go like, "awwww..."

hah. it's 3:45.

so anyway, here's a preview of the project that's had me all geeked for the past couple of days. consider it my baton twirl:

Suicide Kings (Rough Draft)