Interviewing myself

March 16, 2011

“Developing your brand
During the development of “BrandYou” you need to ask yourself some basic questions.” More where this came from.

What are your values?
I value that thing which they call the source which is the divine thing inside a human being. You see how I am playing a clown here, dodging those stupid, naff, un-cool, abused, yucky terms like god, divine, spirit, soul etc… But I still value That Thing the most.
It’s the wounded but still alive cynic of mine is wriggling about somewhere there. Deep.

What do you love?
I love progress. In all it’s manifestations.

What do you hate?

What are you insanely great at doing?
What I always felt insecure about is my sticking to the realistic representation of the people and objects in my visual art. The problem with that is, as common criticism these days goes, there is not much creativity involved in doing that. It’s just a copy of the nature. And NOW I see it for what it is. (I am thinking along as I write here). I see things realistically. That is my way of seeing things – as they are. If I were a writer, I’d write realism rather than sci-fi, if I were a painter, I’d paint realistic photographic portraits rather than abstract cubes or splodges… You see, I wrote “if I were a painter”… Funny that, because I kind of am a painter. Just now, just moments ago I made a transition from a visual artist to … what? Who am I? I finished Me The Painter now, and who am I then? I am a helper. Am I a healer? That doesn’t sound quite right. Am I a facilitator, an inspirator? Something along those lines. I am kind of a little ahead on the path and I am calling the others to follow, I trod a path, I am a path-treader. Fun!

There are millions of paths, there are millions of path-treaders. I just tread and show one of the millions of possible paths, and most likely this path will be suitable only for me, but it might help someone to see HOW I trod it. It is about applying the method of finding one’s path rather than the path itself.

Or, yeah. I remember now. There is a term for it which I came across a lot recently. A way-shower. So that’s what I am . That, I must admit, spoiled much fun for me – first, I wasn’t the first; secondly, that term comes from those creepy alien, new-agey, spirit-channelling people… Hmm.

But I strayed away from the question.

Ah! The answer came to me just now! (I have definitely tuned myself into something good!)
I am insanely good at analysing myself and applying it to a human behaviour in general, listening, comparing, analysing again, learning. And I can see now where all of that is leading me. I am a helper. A way-shower.

I am having a special moment here… Sorry. Back soon.

What are you most proud of?
I am most proud of my family. I created it! With Tim, of course, and the girls, of course, and my mum of course, and many other people involved to a various degree (It sounds like an Oscar nomination acknowledgements…), but still, it’s me at the core of it! From my point of view. I am extremely proud of being able to support a fine healthy balance in my life and therefore the life of my family.

What do you want to be?
I want to be an inspiration. I want to be of  help. But not in a charitable way. Giving as such doesn’t inspire me, not as much as helping someone to find their own way.

What is important and valuable to you?
Freedom. Independence. Interdependence.

What do you want to be known for?
I want to be know as a … words “white clown” come to my mind. Have no idea why. I guess the answer will come to me in a few years time, which is usually the case.

“Basic, fundamental questions, yes. And yet, sometimes these are the most difficult to answer. But they must be answered and must be true.” Garr Rreynolds

The last episode of my dreams today was the one with a sculpture…

I had someone telling me, that he sow a very interesting sculpture, “go, and see!” Explained where it was, somewhere in a public indoors area. I went. It wasn’t a museum or gallery, so people around were not paying attention specifically to that piece of art, and I spotted it in a corner by looking for it. It was a life size or slightly bigger standing figure. In a office attire, with a laptop bag under one arm and some suitcase with documents in another. Glasses. Short curly hair. Tie. Breasts. Slightly erected bulge of a penis under the zip of the trousers… Made in bronze. The look of the myopic eyes and the general expression of the face kind of attentive, but rather lost, switched off like… You know, like the look of someone who internally gives up, but keeps up the appearances, not even himself aware of having given up.

Some joyous voice says: “Great isn’t it? I especially like the way the balls roll around, creating a circular movement of the composition.” I try to see the dynamic balls, peering all over the sculpture, but can only see the mass of bronze. I am looking also for some information on the artist. Somewhere, I find that the name of the artist is Marina Davidovskaya… (Later in the morning I googled the name. Nope… No such person. Therefore, I am not a clairvoyant yet.)

Then I gradually wake up, and not opening my eyes proceed to thinking about my project at hand. The Saint Ronan’s school… Not that I need even more new media to my repertoire, but I do want to make it in a digital print technique. After reading that book “Coraline” with the illustrations by Dave McKean (and looking up more of his works, of course), I got really intruiged by the ways of combining photography and drawing and painting media all in one. I want to try! Trying to think now, how to fulfill it technically, as it’s gonna require some very expensive software (Adobe) and scanner… and printer… 😦 But where there is will, there is way. Sure.

I was looking at a plastic doll and musing about colour. Why is the colour of a plastic thing, however close you try to copy the flesh shade, is always dull, colourless, dead? Because the colour is just one uniform mix. If you look at the doll in the light – it is all more or less the same colour, only with the variation of the tone, determined by the amount of the light falling on to a particular area. If you look at it in the shaded areas – same thing: one colour with a variety of tone. But if you look at a flesh, the overall colour is a composite of manyelements flesh is made up of: the skin itself, which is slightly translucent, the veins, coming closer or going deeper, the bones, the hair, the blood… So, coming to my favourite topic of the week – information – we can say, that the dull colour of the plastic bears the information about its nature – a uniform lamp of plastic. While the colour of skin bear the information about the components of the flesh…

What was it all about? I don’t know, maybe just wanted to pour out my thoughts on ridiculousness of existence of such thing as a flesh tint in paints.


March 22, 2009

An hour ago I was sitting on my potty and staring at the tiny spot on the bathroom rug. It is plain cotton, off-white, at the moment moderately clean rug from IKEA.  As it often happens, the patters of the surface, specks and all, formed into something definable. (For instance, when I lived in Tashkent, on the toilet door frame the shadows of the dents on the wood formed into a Lenin’s face…). Sooo. Yes, the pattern on the rug created an animal. So cute and real it’s features were, that I draughted it immediately on the sketch-pad.

Went on working. (BTW, I just bought this SBI! thing on the net and am in the process of going through the manual. More on it later). After a while walked around the bed… Glanced at the sketch… Eureka! The winner! I am going to make it a character of a highly popular, immensely monetizable series of books!

I can see, you are skeptical. I can hear your “yeah, right…” Well, that’s up to you. But you see, that’s just how the brilliant ideas happen – you have a period of high concentration, most likely preceded by a period of uncertainty and glum. You get to the stage of near-exhaustion, and then – BAM! – you get The Brilliant Idea!

Note to myself: Remember that for my future biographers’ information… Actually, I’ll turn it into a category – FFBI! No, better “For My FBI…”

“A cowboy is asked:

– Why did you decide to jump into that thornbush?

– I thought it was gonna be OK!..”

That’s me.

My 4-year-old daughter seams to be following in my footsteps. The other day she jumped on me unexpectedly, as they do, and nearly broke my neck. I asked her nicely not to do that any more ever again!She curled under the blanket, and with a suppressed giggle in her voice said: “I will…” I know exactly the feeling – after all, what I said about my nearly broken neck is only what I said. And a broken neck is a very abstract thing for someone who is 4 years old. And how would you know what happens if you do something, until you do it?

I have a suspition, that I am going to allow myself to make mistakes again. No, I shouldn’t be so negative. I am going to allow myself to experiment, acceptint the fact, that the results of some of those experiments are going to be pear-shaped. Which is fine.

This attitude…

I started to type “This brave attitude…” but then thought better of it. Whether brave or stupid is for the history to judge.

This attitude settled upon me since that dream I had a week or so ago. The action is taking place on some sort of public trial. The two men under the trial seam to be the comrades of some notorious dictator-tyrant, and are accused of subjecting thousands of people to undergo the torture and imprisonement, through the acts of “noodling” (that was the word) and personal cruelty. The two men were then being executed in a very brutal way. The first one to go had his wrists and feet cut of, after which he had to move on his elbows along the gymnastic parallel bars. He took it with a stoic, determined expression on his face. The other one watched with horror and empathy his comrade’s torture. But his expression changed, when he sow what strong spirit the first man showed, and he himself stoically faced his destiny. The end. I woke up and started thinking what it was all about, and I think it goes like this:

Finally I am willing to face horror, pain, violence etc. I am prepared to watch the knees of the movi-heroes being drilled, read the nasty bits in Louis de Bernier’s books, and accept the fact, that I am most likely going to grow old with all the pleasanties of it, before I get a chance to dye with dignity. Alas! and Amin!