Artists and Capitalism

I haven't written anything on here in a while.

It's not because I haven't had anything to say . . . far from it.

I've had a lot to say.

Problem is, every time I look at my blog and think about updating it, my eyes scrape painfully against the grating visual design and I just weep. That, and I keep having doubts about the whole "online journal" thing I set out to make this thing into.

But I got an anecdote from this week too interesting to pass up.

It actually starts several weeks ago, with the re-insurgence of my artistic vigor. I had completed a new digital picture using Corel Painter and my wonderful drawing tablet. Normally it would have stayed at that, and I would have dropped interest again for a while, but I got the bright idea to post it online for some feedback. The feedback I got was so positive that I flooded my facebook page with old art and showed my stuff off to more people than I had ever done previously. My sister did the same thing around the same time, only she was a bit more prolific and a little less exhibitionist.

In any case, my sister and I were hanging around our parents' house this Wednesday when their home teachers came over. We joined in the conversation while my sister continued doodling on her computer. They took notice and asked about what she was doing, and we explained. Instantly, one of the home teachers asked, "You making some money off your art?"

Sis and I both shook our heads, sort of perplexed. My Dad interjected, "Yeah, that's the problem with artists; They don't believe in capitalism." I'm sure he was (at least partially) joking. I mean, it got a laugh out of the home teachers.

This comment sort of irked me a bit, so I tried to explain that I didn't like the idea of drawing for profit. What I drew was for myself, and if others liked it, bonus. If they offered money, double bonus. The thought of commercial art had certainly crossed my mind, but never appealed to me. The only way I could see myself doing that sort of thing is if I got an art degree in college and got a job to do it. The sort of stuff I do on my own just really isn't suited for sale, and I have no interest in altering it for the sake of a market.

My Dad's dismissive response? "Well, sounds like I didn't teach you guys well enough."

If you couldn't tell, Pop's a thorough, proselytizing capitalist. He gave me "Rich Dad, Poor Dad" to read in High School, and reminds me to reread it on a yearly basis. I read it once, and thought a lot of it was really tickled my greed bone. I'm not trying to say I'm an anti-capitalist, baby-eating European socialist. If I raise enough investment capital some day, I intend to put a lot of the principles the book, and my Dad, taught me to good use.

But is it a failure on my Dad's part that I don't so completely embrace capitalism in everything I do?

Does the fact that I don't constantly think "Can I make money off of this?" mean that I'm somehow an anti-capitalist?

Am I thinking about this too much and giving my Dad too much of a hard time for trying to make the home teachers laugh?

(Probably)

Unconventional Thanksgiving Movies

My facebook page recently poked fun at the distinct lack of movie support for the Thanksgiving holiday. During the month of October, my sister and I came up with a hefty list of great horror movies to watch on a nightly basis to really spice up the Halloween season. We revisited classics like John Carpenter's The Thing (1982), David Cronenburg's The Fly (1986), and Shaun of the Dead (2004), while discovering new favorites, like the insanely scary Paranormal Activity (2009), or the Spanish-language pseudo-zombie spree [REC] (2007). After experiencing that much cinematic scariness, my sister and I began the month of November in the mood for more nightly movies in the spirit of the season. Too bad Hollywood has never found Thanksgiving interesting or profitable.

When I shared this dilemma with my facebook friends, I got a very informative reply from my cousin who shared a number of pilgrim-themed movie titles that I had never heard of before. While she left the quality of each movie up to my imagination, I was surprised that November had at least four movies made about it.

But seriously. there's pretty much nothing out there in movie land to celebrate Thanksgiving. The best movie I know of that features Thanksgiving as a focal plot device is the John Hughes classic buddy comedy Planes, Trains, and Automobiles (1987). In it, Steve Martin plays a high-strung business man attempting to return home from his job in New York in time for Thanksgiving when he is waylaid by a fierce snowstorm and paired with a bumbling, good natured oaf who sells shower curtain rings, played by John Candy. However, after the movie mentions Thanksgiving as Steve Martin's motivation for getting home on time, the holiday is quickly brushed to the side as the comic duo fill the screen with their odd-couple schtick until it's time for the heart-warming ending. It's not exactly extolling the virtue of gratitude.

In the midst of our cinematic drought, my sister and I decided to watch The Shawshank Redemption (1994), since she had never seen it and I simply wanted to watch it again. Watching it again reminded me how downright inspiring that movie is. Its message of hope through the darkest (and longest) of ordeals carries a phenomenal power. After the movie ended and I went to bed with the warm fuzzies, I thought to myself, "Why can't Shawshank be a Thanksgiving movie?"

It may not be a film that is strictly about Thanks and the giving thereof, but it communicates many ideals I'm thankful for; true friendship, kindness, and the sheer power of hope. So why can't I build a list of Thanksgiving movies that are about things I'm thankful for? Yesterday I sat down in front of my DVD collection and pulled out a few movies to carry me towards this Thursday on a wave of celluloid gratitude.

Amelie (2001) - Plenty of people love this French charmer starring Audrey Tatou and directed by Jean-Pierre Jeunet, and I'm one of them. It may broach the line of good taste when it comes to its cutesy quotient, but it balances it out by telling a great story. Odd duck Amelie Poulain is a upbeat and inquisitive soul whose discovery of an old tin box in her apartment sets her on a quest to brighten the lives of as many of the people around her as she can (while dishing out sweet comeuppance to at least one abusive fellow). Watching the light flood into the eyes of Amelie's beneficiaries while she ultimately receives her just desserts can turn the mopiest sobs into the happiest chaps.

Things I'm grateful for: Charity, love, the word "comeuppance."

8 1/2 (1963) - Well, whaddayaknow? Another foreign film. This one comes from the land of Italy and from the mind of legendary director Frederico Fellini. The synopsis for this one may not totally convince you that it's a movie to be grateful for, but somehow it all makes sense in my head. Written while Fellini was struggling on his ninth film, 8 1/2 stars Marcello Mastroianni as a director struggling with his ninth film. If you can ignore the self-indulgent nature of the premise, the substance of the film is intriguing. Mastroianni's Guido vies with an arrogant writer, a pushy producer, a self-conscious diva, his own troubled history with women, and his own infidelity to simply produce a work of art. It's a complex film, filled with flashbacks, fantastical dreams, and angry women, and it all ends with the entire cast dancing in a circle around an unfinished movie set. Pretentious? Sure, but in the best possible way.

Things I'm thankful for: The complexity of life, art, free expression, human relationships.

The Visitor (2007) - Richard Jenkins stars in this small, quiet tale about illegal immigrants. Whoops, I mean, best friends. No, seriously, Jenkins is a lonely college professor who finds illegal immigrants squatting in his Manhattan apartment. Instead of kicking them out, he allows them to stay for a few weeks, during which he bonds with his guests and they unlock his creative side through the power of music. When one of them is caught and detained by U.S. authorities, the professor fights for the rights of the friend who rebooted his drab existence. While it certainly has something political to say, the focus of the film is on Jenkins and his visitors, and the heart-warming story they tell.

Things I'm thankful for: Music and new beginnings.

There are probably plenty more movies I could watch in the Thanksgiving spirit, but since I started this exercise late in November, I don't have much time for anymore films. I think 3 will suffice for 2009. However, when Thanksgiving 2010 rolls around, I'm going to make sure I have a list of gratitude-promoting films to rival the scares I have in October.

A Coronation, or: The first post of a doomed experiment

And it comes to this.

I am blogging.

Thanks to a recent bout of curiosity that I'm still trying to recover from, I decided to question a blogging friend about the appeal of the web log. Being someone who spent the majority of his elementary school years warming up to the concept of the written word, it seemed only fitting I be just as unreasonably skeptical about e-journaling.

Facebook was a similar struggle, but, now that I think about it, a somewhat anachronistic one. In any case, I had a hard time seeing a personal page on the web as anything but leashless narcissism. Still, the ebbing tide of peer pressure (which shouldn't have even been a thing at that point in my life) eroded my cynicism and I started a facebook account. Despite a nearly year-long hiatus, it remains active to this day.

So now the bulwarks have fallen and I am officially a blogger. I remain skeptical about the fame and legions of fans this move is promised to bring me, but thanks to my blogging friend, I now view this blog as less a means for accolades and more a font of self-reflection. Hopefully I can maintain a healthy update schedule (insert an audio clip of someone laughing derisively) in order to reap the benefits.

And who knows? Maybe when I retire I'll finally get a Twitter account!