Musashi Mix Inq

Lotus of the Rising Sun

Posted on January 31, 2011

Lotus of the Rising Sun, ©MMXI

Japanese art is traditionally built on the romance of the microcosm. The garden, minimalist yet reveling in excess, acts as a flattering mirror. Nature tamed, we project mastery of our world. We only see what we want to see.

¤ However ¤

It is thru illusion that we allow ourselves to dream, and through dreaming create a better world for us all. Life becomes art becomes reality.

0+>

-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Yamato

Monet

Artists Wanted 2010 Competition!

Posted on January 28, 2011

Last day to vote on my art in the "Artists Wanted 2010" competition!

Please visit the link and vote today!!!!

[ =-=-=-= http://www.artistswanted.org/musashimixinq =-=-=-=]

To vote, click on the ☆☆☆☆☆ on the upper-right corner of the page!

0+>

Filed under: Art, Event No Comments

Palliativity 115 :)

Posted on January 27, 2011

me

I've been asked recently if i'm happy. The answer: Yes. Really? YUP...

Growing up different is tough, but the lessons learned are invaluable. Chronic-physical pain has a temporing power like the forging of iron; a violent reminder of what strength is and how it must be paid for. I have never stopped being fascinated with life; the world is more beautiful than a mere plastic bag in the wind. Happiness: the sea against the sand; a constant, surging restructuring of life, excitement and all its fractalled randomness... with a LoLcat on top.

This blog isn't just about agnst. My life isn't all about pain.

Here's a pretty normal day for me:

  • Wake up a bit opiate-groggy, to find a love note from my parter on the kitchen table
  • Take to the first floor of our 3-flat to drop down at my desk
  • Share coffee with my father/boss over a little edgy sitcom banter to warm-up our minds
  • Do graphic design, web-work and get some art-work done, blog?
  • ice/lidocaine/analgesics/lunch when necessary
  • Teach judo to special needs kids and am thankful for the chance to share the purest smiles         and most genuine laughter on earth
  • Return home to the arms of my partner and a warm meal
  • reassess, regroup and medicate, goodnightkiss*
  • *insomnia optional

    Although I am certainly of my generation in some regards, I know that I don't really fit in to the crowd—> I am 27, married and live in a multigenerational household (with my parents in the family homestead) and work part-time in the famliy bussiness. I have three part-time jobs actually, and have multiple volunteer/community commitments as well. I was able to get my bachelor's in 4 years without loans and have surprisingly put what I learned at college to use EVERY DAY.

    My current situation is somewhat unbelievable to the Greatest Generation. By my age, they had the secure job, three kids and more than one good suit. They would have already bought the house and the car in that neighboorhood with the good school. We still live in that same house. They didn't spend half of their paychecks on medicine. I'm sure they'd still rather have a jet-pack than an electric car, but when you've been rocketting along on excess, it's hard to settle for the future that has been wrought.

    Fight the Future -------------------

    My grandparents, imprisoned, looked out into the cloudless desert sunset and knew that somewhere beyond this cage was a land of the free. Somewhere there was a place for them to call home. Whenever I doubt myself or my direction, I look back to the past and remember. With a little gaman, we'll make out alright, just like they did.

    ---------------… Save the Past

    I'm happy with where I am though. As much as I have studied, conducted interviews and created artwork about the 40s and 50s, I like the present and anticipate an even stranger, more wonderous future... possibly with jetpacks 🙂

    0+>

    The Bourgeois King

    Posted on January 24, 2011

    The Bourgeois King, ©MMXI

    The highest form of flattery…
    Keep your enemies closer…

    When you journey to the West, there is no return.

    0+>

    -=-=-=-=-=-

    1937: Nanking

    Palliativity 114: Hapa, Unapologetic

    Posted on January 20, 2011

    Hapa?

    It's always our eyes that betray us. Growing up in the Midwest of America, it's hard to explain the exhilaration of seeing a face like mine. The room goes dark in the recognition of a shared lineage, diverse and entangled. We, those forged in no-one's image, embody the terror and thrill of the unknown. Our genetics reunite a world divided, a metaphor made flesh. The strange shall inherit the earth. A brief glimpse of post-humanity, a preview of the future:

    Hapa, Unapologetic

    In my freshman year at the college dining hall, I sat with a group of friends I didn't normally join for meal time. I was making introductions when a girl sat down who I had seen around campus:

    √ wavy black hair
    √ high cheekbones
    √ olive skin
    √ almond eyes

    As the table conversation continued, the two of us subconsciously began scanning each-other. I've grown accustomed to a world where all my relationships and interactions are interracial. But how to approach and breach this silent contract of ethnicity? I mentioned the Internment and her eyes lit up, "My family was at Gila River."— "Mine TOO!"

    For a time, the world around us drifted and the table-mates could only listen on in fascination, trying to decipher the language and etiquette we were inventing on the fly. Her memories of childhood and the search for identity echoed and resonated in ways that words can never capture nor tame. Our hearts fractured and broken, molded to a world scared of our existence. Stories and laughter with the somberness of history.

    When all-to-soon it was time for class, the two of us parted. We never spoke again. I am still trying to figure out why. Fear? Is that what it was? The knowledge that we weren't the only one came abruptly and with a force. Like a child's first look in a mirror, when they realize that they are seeing themselves— that there exists a perspective outside of their own line of sight. We were not alone and yet we ran away from one another.

    • ± •

    I spent hours as a child staring into the mirror trying to understand what others saw in me. It was not until much later that I could embrace those features and know that only I can define what my face will tell the world. This is my story.

    Thank you for joining me.

    0+>

    Witness

    Posted on January 17, 2011

    Witness, ©MMXI

    Fight or Flight?

    Our legacy is in your hands.

    0+>