SOTW: Balboa Ends the Cold War
The Rocky spirit is not to be trifled with.
Specter
Acrylic on Canvas
Chameleon
Ink and chalk pastel on Bristol
SOTW: Daft Labeouf
Do it, do it, do it, do it.
Valentine's Day Cards
January, the month of hangovers and broken resolutions, has left and February, the month of love and alienation, has arrived and with it comes ALSO THAT Valentine's Day cards.
Click to see a large version of the inside/outside of the cards.
If you're interested in getting one for your sweetheart, send an email to alsothatwebmaster@gmail.com.
OR you can download your very own printable PDF right here:
Daniel Horowitz: His Obsessions
There is only one Daniel Horowitz. He's a wholly unique individual full of brilliance and wit and talent. His writing style reflects this as he blurs the boundary between prose and poetry. I read his book becuz and I was spellbound. I'm excited to be able to share his writing and photography today.
Daniel Horowitz writes poems and plays and novels. He also takes photographs. His most recent book of both poems and photographs is called becuz and available on amazon (link below). For more of his photography see danielhorowitzphoto.com. Daniel is available for freelance portraiture and other photography work around Boston and later this year New York. These three poems are a sampling of some of his obsessions : Americana gloom, outdated symbolism and confusing eating for sex. To get in touch with Daniel for any reason please email horowitzsdaniel@gmail.com.
becuz in black and white ($5.50) : http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1522822364?keywords=becuz&qid=1453581905&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1
becuz in color ($15.00) : http://www.amazon.com/becuz-Daniel-Horowitz/dp/1519498187/ref=tmm_pap_title_1?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1453581905&sr=8-1
The Last Cowboy
a small autobiography
on the day I bought leather boots,
wore my leather jacket near the mirror
and didn’t play it safe even under all
that dead skin made pretty
So the biggest-of-all time hurricane set to smash Mexico,
it’s been downgraded to a “tropical depression”—me too.
Last night in Boston the cracked hand-in-deep-stuffed-pocket
chills came howling down from the haunting Canadian Alps
past the glooming doom-stricken upper burbs of Boston town
to blow clean and dead like the sand-blasted surface of the
green ungrinning moon the famous barebone streets of Boston
proper which the original daddies of this country had to toss their
paper umbrellas and fold forever their lawn chairs to huddle
holster-to-holster and come up with “oh well now that we can’t
play in the yard I guess we aughtta invent liberty : hey whadda say
Jeff, Benny, Ham, Slim Jack Johnson and The Ramblers?”
I am standing like a tragic James Dean type and my left foot,
I left it crushed between the brake pedal and the clutch.
I’m looking out at the thick night which conceals things like
poison shivs, parties, brained rats and the spooky breath of vampires.
I am thinking about the variety of human life. Socks do little
for me. Lollypops cannot be depended on. And the layer
like stone dust of junky symbolism that snores rancid on each object
I inflict on my eyes makes heavy sneezes like Howitzer shots.
I’m a great kaleidoscope as well as a pair of windup lips :
a photographer and a poet, a farmer and a practice clown.
Listen to me speak : the “obfuscation” of the “visual plane”
in my picture is the “aesthetically good” confusing “neighbor”
of the “slang-drivel” in the “grammatical defenestrations”
of my past “experiments in the expedience of thought.”
Language is a funny thing but it is not a joke until you crack it…
Why am I standing? Action is a outdated scare that lives in my muscles
like a “You’re dead” from John Wayne a.k.a. Genghis Khan :
it knocks like a bone’s rattle when news arrives of gunslinging
or wooing or circus heroics… I am only standing : not moving,
my hand is on my hip but I have no weapon. I only wanna look
good… Hold the pose. My lips are red. My hair is classic.
My clothes, my body parts, the steel bible in my chest pocket
to catch a bullet and make a miracle : I am the last cowboy.
I’ll walk out, clinking with bells and belt buckles and quarters—
I’ll go into plains, the chill will roll over me but my organs
will have grown hard like blisters and I’ll win : I’ll kiss everybody
and lay all my enemies low. I’ll be very cool. The wind’s picking up…
The Last Cowboy doesn’t wear a hat he looks and looks and
in order to have the appearance of sophistication and depth
he puts the gloomy ocean of sadness in his eyes as their sparkle
when he looks at you, right—ha ha haha haha ha hahaha haw ha ha.
Photography: Three Allegories
I.
A European sits in the lap of another European
turns almost completely facewards
pulls his tie increasingly flatteringly—
Nobody can stand anymore.
Someone says off-camera,
“Impeccable dress is a dead
(and by dead I mean slaughtered)
art”
Pigeons go casually extinct around these people
who appear to be shining shoes and bottling
marmalade.
They stick fingers in their eyes and nostrils
and press their cheeks as if they were someone else’s
cheeks.
A pigeon falls dead soundlessly into a splashing martini glass.
Like dolls, laps are switched around and behold!
—Sequins are invented without ceremony in the distance.
II.
For just this reason, tying knots in cigar smoke,
A portrait of a monarch mourns things like
Elephantitis.
Paint is made to understand by violence a color
Like gray.
Portraiture is consumed by starch-armed perusers
Smiling like virginal old men.
Kimonos are wheeled in, a piece of glass is
Thoroughly masterbated—to solve this problem.
III.
Bedding unchanged, a boa constrictor rears lavishly
Fearlessly, with circular lenses, smoking a lollipop: lime
The genius photographer orders the snake curl up
On a fur coat, crumpled.
The snake answers, similarly,
Like a serpent confused for a penis
“There is nothing more theatrical than dollar bills.”
It is a photograph.
Calories: The Poem
“BODY: If we knew how our body is made,
we wouldn’t dare move."
—Flaubert
We’ll combust. Faintness creeps like a pang
an ingrown toenail—drift: my tummy… And you
standing still, staring at produce like a thigh. Grumbling,
our burn—sweating at cornucopia, hot river gods—
peanut butter’s goo and nut meat, warmth:
texture of the womb—pastas well cooked
give under feral teeth, pleasing—iced cream,
salt on pretzels, salt’s slight burn, throat’s gulp
its physicality—consumption. Gulp. Consumed.
Hunger at the hardness of a fresh pepper, red
like you. Meat’s sponge and animal dung appeal:
also warmth, organ meat’s scented faint piss—
animals, burned to our burn: chewing, alive…
Like all gluttony it is only the indirect flare of desire
to have the world reduced to a few monumental objects:
a mountain, a bowl of beans, a truck, you my dear, and my mouth.
Work Doodles: Jesse R.
My main man Jesse R. shared some work doodles with me, so I, in turn, am sharing them with you.
SOTW: Doritos Man
This new mascot is metal af
NTWON: World of Tomorrow
Normally short films are reserved for Wednesdays, but Netflix has recently added Don Hertzfeld's latest animation: World of Tomorrow, so naturally I had to share it here, since I am a huge fan of his work.
World of Tomorrow is the story of a little girl who meets a version of her future self. She goes on an adventure through time and space, learning about the future and all of the crazy things that eventually happens to Future Emily.
True to the Hertzfeld style, World of Tomorrow is a poignant reflection on life, death, and love. Similar to It's Such a Beautiful Day (which is also on Netflix), an overarching theme is facing one's mortality. However, World of Tomorrow specifically focuses on how technology shapes humanity's quest for immortality. Of course, there are tons of morbid jokes and surrealist gags peppered in to keep things relatively light.
Overall, World of Tomorrow is worth far more than its 16 minute runtime. It's touching and sad and funny and will absolutely make you think. It has won tons and tons of awards, so even if my word means nothing to you, many other people have praised Hertzfeld's latest work for its heart and ingenuity.
Watch it today.
East Side Stroll
Went walking through the East Side taking pictures with my friend Dan Horowitz.
Here are some of my favorites taken that day.
SOTW: Instagram Husband
The unsung heroes behind the camera are not forgotten.
Moon Hooch: Totally There
L to R: Wenzl McGowen, James Muschler, and Mike Wilbur
Not long ago a band called Moon Hooch appeared on my Spotify. I had never heard anything like it before and was transfixed. The genre-busting three piece comprises of the double threat of Mike Wilbur and Wenzl McGowen on saxophones with James Muschler jamming out on drums. As luck would have it, they were playing a concert close to my house. I got the chance to sit down and talk with these mad geniuses about their work.
MT: How did you guys get your start as musicians?
Wenzl: We didn't really meet all at the same time. There were sort of weird interactions that slowly led to a moment where this group formed. We never had intentions to form this band. But rather, we were trying to make it based on our own beliefs and making money for food and rent and this and that. James and I met at the New School. Mike and I never really got along. We had really opposite worldviews and opposite approaches to music. And for some reason I judged him very harshly when I met him.
Mike: He was vibin' me out.
W: I was vibing him out. Because I thought he had too much uncontrolled energy and I just couldn't be around it. Like, musically.
MT: I see, you guys were like hot and cold.
W: Yeah, but then slowly hot and cold mixed and we became warm.
James: So the first time we played together was on the street. Wenzl and I were busking and Mike was there on his horn. And that was the first time the three of us had ever played together as a group. We were playing on the street to pay rent. We were playing without the intention of forming a band. People started asking us what we were called and one day Mike blurted out “Moon Juice” just spur of the moment. So we went by Moon Juice for a month, but there are a few other bands called Moon Juice so we change it to Moon Hooch.
MT: How did you transition from busking to playing venues? Basically, how did you get "discovered"?
W: Usually you think you need to get "discovered". But it's not really like that. For us, it was more like climbing stairs. One conversation leads to another thing which leads to an event where you meet people which leads to another thing. We would play in the subway a lot, which exposed our music to thousands of people. And then we got an email saying “hey, we're looking for a band for this TV show.” So we became the house band for Hamish and Andy's Gap Year. And that was just because some talent buyer saw us on the subway. And then we got an email from Mike Doughty of Soul Coughing and he invited us to come on a national tour with him. So we played 25 shows back to back all over the country, which was crazy for us to go from playing on the subway to a national tour.
MT: I've literally never heard anything like your music before. How do you guys develop songs?
M: It's different every time. Right now we're just all producing individual stuff on Ableton. Sometimes we'll improvise together.
Mike Reveals a Unique SongWriting Technique
W: I think our music has been changing a lot recently. We've always had the question of how to integrate electronics. That's really been something that's been occupying us since the beginning of the band. Initially, I tried to write a program that would pick up the kick drum and translate the information into MIDI information and now we're using Ableton with a click track and we've stuck with that. This has given us an opportunity to expand exponentially in all directions to the point where we could become a different band. So now the question is how do we integrate electronics and still remain Moon Hooch? The answer is that Moon Hooch is an entity that makes music.
MT: So the majority of your songs are instrumentals, but there are a few vocal tracks mixed in. Are you guys trending in a more vocal-heavy direction?
M: Totally. I've been rapping and singing for a while now.
MT: That was actually how I was going to follow up on that question. When I first heard your music the first thing I thought was “this would be amazing to freestyle over” and so I wanted to know if you've talked with any rappers about having them do verses over your tracks.
M: Yeah. Me. We also have a bunch of vocal songs, like six that I sing on. This set doesn't have that much rapping, but the next set we do will probably have three songs that I'll be rapping on.
MT: The lyrics of “Mountain Song” are pretty incisive and thought provoking. Would you say that you guys try to stand for something?
M: Totally.
J: We definitely stand for something. We don't even try to, we just do.
W: I remember when we were playing a music festival three years ago and we were backstage and we were treated so nicely. James had just come back from India and had seen all of this poverty and people starving and was really emotionally shaken by it. We have so much wealth here and we just drown ourselves in it while other countries are starving.
M: We just over-consume. This festival was so gluttonous and there was so much waste. Way more than any of these artists needed was being thrown at them.
Moon Hooch goes deep on their veganism.
W: I think it's an addiction that society has. We're addicted to goals. Because we're a goal driven species. Right now we're confusing economic growth with personal growth. So we all want more money, more power, more wealth, more status. I have really successful friends and they're worried they're not successful enough, but they can afford whatever they need. They don't ever say “Wait a minute, I'm here right now enjoying this moment.” It's just the worry in itself. And all of this obsession with material wealth ties into our veganism, this addiction with material pleasure is tied to the insanity of eating meat three times a day, which is destroying our planet.
MT: What words of advice do you have for aspiring artists?
W: Be happy with life. And from that, what you're supposed to do in life will emerge.
M: Take every experience as it comes. Don't necessarily view each experience as a good experience or a bad experience, but rather an experience in itself. Try to be in the moment in that experience. Know that you'll learn something from it even if it feels like the worst thing in the world. You'll come out on the other side better. Always.
J: We were talking earlier, Mike and I, how one grows out of suffering. A lot of artists suffer in one way or another. Whether it be either dissatisfaction with the art their creating, or turmoil in their lives or their emotions getting in the way since, you know, artists can be emotional people. Even when you're hitting your low point, that's where you grow the most once you come out of it.
Moon Hooch talks about Balance.
SOTW: Blackstar
One of David Bowie's parting gifts to the world.
Bowie
I was saddened to learn today of the passing of one of the most influential musicians in human history. I grew up listening to David Bowie's music and so I want to commemorate his memory in my own modest way.
I am giving away a limited number of 4'' by 4'' stickers to anybody who wants one.
If you are interested, click the button below to go to the form. Unfortunately, I can only mail inside the USA. If you are international and really really want a sticker, send an email to alsothatwebmaster@gmail.com and we'll figure something out.
Finding Integrity in the Fountainhead
Ayn Rand is a polarizing figure in the world of literature as the progenitor of the philosophy known as "Objectivism". For the uninitiated, the driving force behind this school of thought is that selfishness is not an inherently bad trait and that a person's sole purpose is to pursue their own happiness while generally disregarding everything else, including the well being of society at large. Unfortunately, many people have latched onto this school of thought in order to justify their shitty behavior.
I cracked the Fountainhead having full knowledge of this philosophy. I wasn't expecting it to be a good book. I wasn't expecting to agree with anything written in the 753 page tome. I really only read it to confirm my suspicions about Ayn Rand and Objectivism- that it's a total waste of time and merely rhetorical leverage for terrible people to rationalize selfish behavior.
For the most part, I was right. The Fountainhead is not a well-written book. It's bloated with fluff and reads like a fan-fiction. Rand herself once said that the cynical female lead Dominique Francon was really just herself on a bad day. The characters for the most part are cardboard cut-outs meant to further Rand's intellectual agenda.
But I would be lying if I said I took nothing away from the Fountainhead and that parts didn't resonate with me. An overarching theme of the novel is integrity and the different ways it can be tested. While there were many aspects of protagonist Howard Roark's character that didn't sit well with me (he arguably rapes someone at one point) I will concede that I admired his commitment to his artistic integrity.
Howard Roark is lightning in a bottle- built up to be this superhuman force of creativity that is destined to revolutionize the field of architecture. However, nobody around him initially notices this. He is laughed out of architecture school and most firms. Eventually, he finds work with an old master of architecture who recognizes his talent for what it is and mentors him. Eventually, he slowly but surely develops traction and achieves success as an architect without ever compromising his vision. Of course, a bunch of other stuff happens in the novel, but it's not worth discussing here.
The thing that stuck with me was Roark's unwavering confidence in his work. No matter how many people told him he was wasting his time, no matter how many people laughed in his face, or poo-pooed his ideas, Roark kept right on doing what he was doing. He never got angry, he never fought back in any meaningful way. He just kept on until his eventual success.
Now, I don't have the hyper-detached confidence of borderline psychopath Howard Roark, but this message of staying true to yourself as an artist is absolutely something I can get behind. It's important to make art that expresses who you are. It's not a science. There are guidelines, but no absolute rules. There is only what looks good and what doesn't. I try to remember that as I create and get frustrated with myself and compare my work to other artists. I always appreciate feedback, but I do not live and die by it because there is no pleasing everyone. First and foremost, I need to please myself with the work I create. Maybe not with the same unflinching rabidity that Howard Roark did with his own work, but somewhere in between.
Would I say The Fountainhead is a must read? Absolutely not. But I was pleasantly surprised by the exploration of artistic integrity and what it means to find success as a creator. Do I agree with every single thing I read? No way. But, there is merit in reading things that force you to broaden your horizons and expand your perspective, especially in this age of safe spaces and echo chambers.
If you are a creative person or want to become a creative person, this book should be on your reading list.
Flamingo
Ink and Watercolor on Cold Press
SOTW: Everyone is an Asshole
Everyone is an asshole, especially Craig.
Work Doodles
Have you ever been in a meeting at work and found yourself drifting off? My go-to move is to doodle, as it keeps me awake and looking busy. I invite everyone to send me their work doodles via alsothatwebmaster@gmail.com.
Here are some doodles from the past few weeks.
Guest Post: Enamored with the Medium - Tessa Junas
I'm excited to share the amazing ceramics of Tessa Junas. The things that really strike me about her work are the intricate patterns and the vibrant colors. Keep an eye on this rising star as she builds her already impressive body of work.
My name is Tessa Junas. Ever since I was a little girl I had a fascination with ceramics. My grandmother had a collection of pieces displayed in her house and every day after school I would study the designs on the pots in sheer awe of what someone out there could create. I took my first ceramic class at Amity High School and became enamored with the medium. I went on to study Studio Art with a concentration in Ceramics at Southern Connecticut State University under the instruction of Cort Sierpinski, Josaphine Rossomondo and Gret Cochenet. They have all aided greatly in my education and helped me nurture the style which I have developed. It is reminiscent of the Ukrainian pottery I loved so much as a child yet I wanted my pieces to be vibrant and interesting with a life of their own.
