My Megalomania is Boundless

I am such a technophile.  9 blog posts and status updates in one email. Were that i was actually using it for something more useful than a creative act of procrastination.

Corporate Sponsorship

I've been thinking for while about extreme sports, and surfing and volleyball. In part, I've sat in awe of what a 21 year old kid can do with a skateboard or a BMX bike nowadays. Mostly, I've thought about the idea of corporate sponsorship, and if it can play a significant role in art.

Corporations don't bathe athletes in money just for their talent. They do it for the brand exposure. O'Neill doesn't sponsor Timmy Reyes and Corey Lopez just because they're nice guys. They do it because these guys make kids want to learn to surf, and they make adults choose O'Neill over Rip Curl. Nike doesn't give money to (insert random basketball player here) for grins and giggles. They do it because they want to associate their brand with that guy. It's all about the brand exposure. But of course, this is all something we all already know.

What does it take for the artist to become a worthwhile investment for a mega-corporation? Is it simply a matter of exposure? If one does enough guerrilla sculpture installations or enough high profile pieces, can his or her work entice the marketing department of a company to start throwing cash/cameras/welding gear their way? In truth, if could get one major surfer's annual stipend, I could afford to make work that would get on the news in seven states, probably without even breaking any laws.

I imagine part of it is about saleability. Does it just come down to the right amount of charisma? Is it a matter of news exposure? Does one have to generate a million adoring fans first? What does it take?

And what would happen? What could the photographer do that had the freedom to use her eye when, where and how she wanted? I imagine making sculpture that isn't ever meant to be bought and sold, but rather to be experienced. If art basically breaks down to creativity, communication and intelligent aesthetics, what happens when these traits become elevated in popular culture? There has always been power in art. So much so, that it is cannibalized into every aspect of our lives. But what happens if the artist can find the corporate sugar daddy? Can the contemporary artist do more than make trite garbage that only appeals to academics and collectors? Can art still change the world? Is there room for a second Renaissance?

What do you guys think? Really, I'd like to know.

Beyond My Ability

I was driving over to my sister's house to help her move. On my way to the apartment I felt some dire interaction as I was shifting gears. I managed to get the vehicle back home, but third gear seemed to be where first should be. I slid under the truck, mag lite and wrench in hand, prepared to adjust the linkage. I was baffled. The stick was floating free, wrenched from any interaction from the linkage. Both shift rods were thrown forward, suggesting that the transmission should be in both 1st and 3rd gears simultaneously. I was in over my head.

All I felt at that moment was a mild nausea and the need for a hug, yet afterwards I found myself laughing. You see, I like to think that God and I have little inside jokes. I figure, He knows my thoughts, my sense of humour, my history. He knows where my heart is right now better than I do. He knows how much that I want my life back. He knows how much I miss Santa Barbara. He knows how much I miss working with my hands, having friends, being near the water. He knows how much I want to get out of the bay area, and he knows how much money I have in the bank. Really, I know you don't get it, but it's a great joke.

The best part about our little jokes, is that He usually teaches me something. And no this isn't the formal "Please Lord, let me learn something from this situation, like how to make lemonade out of grapefruits...." God really teaches me about my relationship to Himself and my need for Him. There are times when one can fix things themselves, when one can make minor adjustments. There are times when through our own action, our inaction, or by wholly unknown means outside of ourselves, lives, transmissions and the world as we know it are thrown amiss.

There are times when I try to fix these things myself. I will freely muck about in my own automobile/life/relationships, shearing bolts/communication/whatever. There is a lot of stuff that I know how to fix. There is a lot more that I know how to make worse. What's awesome, is that I am getting better at knowing this before I make mess of things. That is to say, I'm being shown more and more, when and where I need ask Christ to work on me and on my life. There are things in my life and in this world that I cannot fix, definitely not by myself. There are certain things that I need to trust to more skilled hands than my own.

It may sound simple and trite, but whatever, if you'd been under my truck with me you'd understand. I think I'll call a mechanic in the morning.

Phranq Watercolor

Phranq Watercolor
Originally uploaded by Ron Davis

A quick watercolor sketch of Phranq.



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Ron Davis

805 451 2228

In The Last 24 Hours

In the last 24 hours I've...

...watched 2 episodes of Dora the Explorer and 1 episode of Blues Clues

...been outsmarted by a 1 1/2 year old

...been inside a projection room for the first time

...discussed tight pants with a girl from New York

...had my speech compared to that of a drunken Scot--by a girl from Edinburough

...planned a comic at 1 in the morning

...taken a detour due to a melted freeway

...realized that while I'm 30 and my nephew is 5, we still dress the same

...looked out the window in May, an hour from the coast, and have seen rain

Linguistic Excavation

My achilles heel has always been communication. When I was younger, I used to stutter when was frustrated or excited, and mumble horribly when I wasn't. Nowadays I just have a tendency to skip over words, pause in the middle of my sentences, or to just simply fire out analogies and metaphors in a manner not dissimilar to the use of mortars on a well fortified military bunker.

I'm often accused of not thinking my thoughts through. Rather, I find, myself thinking carefully, refining concepts and relationships and logical proofs. My brain processes the world in little shapes of thought. Unfortunately, my words never seem to fit right over them. In fact, it's much like reaching into a child's closet, for a shirt that is supposed to fit, and after an agony of struggling, and pulling sleeves around bony little elbows, finding that the shirt is sewn wrong, or mis-labeled, or that it belongs in his sister's closet.

Language can be hard for me. Their meanings can be much more fluid than I desire, and they usually get in the way. They are a shovel. A useful tool, with which I always manage to dig myself into a whole.

A State of Thankfulness

Right now, I have the sense of epiphany sans the manic energy. I am just, plain old thankful.

I am still homesick and longing to return. The days are still rewarding yet tiring. I still don't have a workshop or studio set up. I am miles and miles away from the ocean. I am still unsure of various aspects of the future. I still struggle with getting enough sleep, and finding enough energy for the day. Yet, right now, I am able to be in a state of genuine and peaceful thankfulness. I have been blessed this last week with some good conversations with old friends and current friends. I have been able to watch my niece start to take the first moves towards crawling. I have napped in the sun, like a cat, with my sister's children dog-piled on top of me. It's the closest thing I've felt to being a dad. I am thankful, yet it's not just these experiences that cause my thankfulness. I believe that God is growing my capacity for thankfulness. I would say that I am learning to be thankful, but that would over emphasize my own participation in what I am being taught. Simply put, I feel that part of my mind/heart/soul that I has secretly numbed, has since awoken with feeling and recognition.

Tonight, I am thankful for the small blessings of this last week, as well as the big ones. I am thankful that I am able to recognize some of them right now. I am thankful for the lessons I'm being taught by the struggles of the last year. I am thankful for the knowledge that I can pray to the God that created the universe and that He listens. One of the amazing things about faith, is that one can be taught the same lesson over and over again, with increasing levels of understanding and growth. And it feels good to be able to see a part of your heart that is being worked on. It is like watching the artistry of a surgeon, while you are the patient, or like a piece of pottery being able to recognize its maker's hands as it is formed. No rush of emotional energy, no disappointment. A simple place of peace and thankfulness. What it would be like to be here for a whole day.