Writing johndouglas 

4 creative works found

• I Love Stalking
  by John Douglas

  I love stalking. I always have and I always will. It used to be that only celebrities and Linda Ronstadt had stalkers. Now everybody h…

  I love stalking. I always have and I always will. It used to be that only celebrities and Linda Ronstadt had stalkers. Now everybody has one! In the new millennium it is as essential for the discerning Artistic Groover to have your own stalker as owning a City Gym membership was in the Nineteen-Nineties in Sydney. / I don’t know if I have any steadfast stalkers; cytomegalovirus has been cruel. So I stalk myself. Everyone needs a hobby, and self-stalking is a fascinating lifestyle choice for those of us artists who attempt to live on our numerous sales, commissions, appearance fees. If you happen to be into self-portraiture, hoorah! As a Self-Stalker you’ll also satisfy your compulsive narcissistic tendencies. And you thought having an “Inspiration” was as good as it got! (Is Inverted Oedipus Complex an Opportunistic Infection?) I live within the inner-city ghetto of Sydney, and consequently my own stalking generally involves taking a long bus ride with a cracked hand-mirror and spending a day at a deserted beach walking backward to hide my tracks. “How Long Till I Find My Way Home From Here?” is an interesting variant to delight the Demented Self-Stalker. Like budgeting on a fine-arts income, the only limit to self-stalking is your imagination. / Something we may well consider post-Income Tax Time, as we ponder our bare bank accounts and aching heads. Maybe it’s my biased cynical viewpoint, but it seems these days much of the artistic lifestyle exists in a totally commercial ecosystem. Creativity may be an innate trait but Culture is for sale. Many of us probably had our first post-school exposure to “real” Culture through an exhibition opening. Of course exhibitions exist to sell art. The good part: this is done by getting you drunk first. Our first public identification as proud artists was likely a cheap op-shop t-shirt with a cute hand drawn slogan such as “Kiss My Art”. Mine took a tangental approach and said, “So Many Men, So Little Masculinity”. If we were the proud friend of a successful artist maybe we would be gifted a Stella McCartney “My Friend Got an Overseas Residency & All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt” t-shirt. But from there the consumerism gets a hold. / Paying money for artsy CDs – John Cage retrospectives; Man Ray playing the spoons, digitally remastered; Tracy Emin moaning and humming while cross-stitching; art books – reproductions; theory; biographies real and PRed; painting techniques. The expensive tickets for touring exhibitions, often the best-established international art we see in Australia, and Art Gallery/Museum merchandise ad nauseam… / Furniture from Ikea because all the art gang go there now, and you can assemble it yourself if you’re clever, or prove you have friends who are even if you aren’t. A Vivienne Westwood limited edition “Consumerism Stinks” fragrance. Art materials. Art materials. Paying higher rent to live in an inner-city artsy, crafty neighbourhood, paying for overpriced groceries to live around that neighbourhood, or paying for entry to a nightclub/play/concert because you’re too introverted to make friends with the manager or haven’t won the Archibald. Costs incurred by stalking Damien Hirst and David Hockney. How much stuff related to an artistic identity doesn’t involve monetary transactions? Attending a few funding protest marches, cruising at a free exhibition, perhaps. Sleeping with a gallery owner. Shoplifting nail polish/cat food/paints/brushes. It’s a conundrum – how to make a living off doing what we love, while not becoming sucked into the commercial whirlpool? Here I am complaining about the commercialisation of art while wanting everyone to BUY BUY BUY my work. Being part of an online arts community can be fun. The best parts cost nothing. Self-Stalking is not only easy on the pocket, it has liberated me from the quagmire of endlessly searching for Me. Tonight I am going to take pictures of myself whilst in bed so I can see what I look like when I’m asleep. Now it’s your turn. Try doing something Artistic Without Pay every day. I do.

• pets rule
  by John Douglas

  In which I ponder what it means to be an artist and an inter-species surrogate dad. There’s been a bit of an endemic polemic lately am…

  In which I ponder what it means to be an artist and an inter-species surrogate dad. There’s been a bit of an endemic polemic lately among vermilion bubblators regarding the influx of kiddie and pet photos on the site and how these / are contributing to the lowering of quality. And that’s got me thinking–well, actually it hasn’t, but it has got me writing. About the value of pets, particularly to obsessive-compulsive creative types, a.k.a. artists. Nicole Ritchie recently confided to me about her childhood as an orphan raised by a pod of dolphins, and how this auspicious beginning helped her find an inner porpoise later in life. So, as you see, even skinny megatalented celebrities have reaped benefits via their contact with the animal kingdom. But let’s consider what it means to “keep” pets. For starters, I believe it is incredibly discriminatory. If I were the Leader Of The World, I’d allow pets the same overseas travel rights as any man, woman or Halliburton CEO. Surely an animal has the same right as any human to experience prowling the Eiffel Tower and mauling French? Why moggies and doggies are “kept” like a refugee trying to enter Australia is beyond me, but there you go. The pet owners I chatted with seem to think we in the artistic sector are less precious about our pets when compared with non-creatives, but I dunno. I have a beautiful pussy that I brush daily. / Rufus & His Pet – both showing the benefits of daily brushing Every idiot knows that if you are an artist and an animal lover (don’t confuse this term with a sex-club customer) then keeping a pet is good for you. Not just because they eat the crappy leftovers from your lousy cold Meals on Wheels dinner. (Or 2Minute Noodles if you’re fancy and like to eat Italian.) They also provide companionship, responsibility, stability and an extra source of food and art supplies should you find yourself cut short pre-welfare day. This unfortunate circumstance may happen more often thanks to Western society’s trend towards social-services “reform” measures and budget cuts to arts funding. Nothing says “underground artist” quite as succinctly as a cat in a crock-pot. Perhaps Glenn Close had it right, after all (with apologies to Angel and Buddy–you know who you are). I spoke with several artsy bumpkins about their pet experience. (Welcome to my anecdotal evidence section). All agree owning a pet is generally a good thing for them. They have either canines, felines, or vermin, but don’t take this to mean, if you are a creative type, these are the only pets to choose from. I guess most pet stores don’t have a huge stock of Corsican Snails or Wandering Albatrosses (commonly known as the Kirsty Ally of the animal kingdom), but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have one. I spent three years in a dress miming to Kate Bush – trust me, make your own rules in life. Every artist—without exception—has said that a household pet is a wonderful companion, a giver of unconditional love and taker of unconditional meals, and something better to come home to than an empty room full of unfinished paintings. We also agree owning a pet helps us cope with angst; one mate even says his pet dog has helped him come to terms with the death of his partner. Exactly how Pooch got him through the heartache I’m not sure, but I wasn’t curious or perverse enough to ask. A definite advantage mentioned by my focus group is that a dog can walk itself—helpful on low energy too much lithium not enough inspiration days. Another advantage is the texturing effect shed hair or random tail swipes can add to a drying canvas. And a loved pet doesn’t care if your last series was really, really bad, or even good. All are seen on equal terms through the adoring eyes of your petty pal. A common disadvantage everyone mentioned is the cost of food and vet bills if living solely off an art income. How good it would be to get help with meeting those bills. Arte you listening, grants assessors? My cat and I are in desperate need of a residency in Madrid. ¡Pronto! Whatever the pet, whatever the creative field you lumber through, all humans and artists I spoke with agree: pets rule, no matter where you are or your circumstances. Go get one now. And as tempting as a redbubble upload is, please keep the photos to yourself as best you can. / Scat, Cat! 6 / feline faeces and synthetic polymer paint on paper Thanks to Susan Grissom for the inspiration

• All That Glitters is Not Disco
  by John Douglas

  In my eternal search for pain and grief I decide how to vote in the coming Australian federal election. I was discoing in Lismore on…

  In my eternal search for pain and grief I decide how to vote in the coming Australian federal election. I was discoing in Lismore on my annual Big City Night Out, shooting pool instead of pills, contemplating those I’d dumped from my Christmas card list since they became sober. As always, after downing a keg of booze with nary a care for the long wait till next cheque, my thoughts turn to the pert fact that this is a federal election year. The Link / It’s self-evident a party’s policy whims -State or Federal – affect the quality of life for an artist. Federally, we’re talking Arts Council funding, arts funding and employment opportunities to name a few. / In my quest for pain I reluctantly set aside the timeless, unanswerable questions such as: / ‘Is a politician by definition capable of honesty?’ or ‘Should you regard an election promise as a core promise or simply farting?’; ‘Is that really human hair, Julie Bishop?’. Instead I cut to the chase and asked Australia’s Federal Labor and Coalition parties what they will do to improve the quality of life for artists, i.e. Me, Me, Me. I immediately discard Joe Hockey from my email enquiries list. I’m sure the cuddly Shrek stunt double would have plenty to tell me about the amazing employment opportunities for artists if his team is re-elected, but I want answers, not spin and chips. I think the term ‘Workchoices’ sticks like a bone in the throat of most people. Predictably the Coalition is pleased with their employment record. Hubris is easy when you fudge figures so even one hour a week in any job now counts as employed. And as for increases in funding for art-related jobs? Incentive for artists to join in gainful, meaningful employment, which utilizes their skills? Increases in arts grants? Nada. Zilch. Zero. There are over 45,000 professional artists in Australia, more than twice as many as 20 years ago, with that figure increasing another 2-3% each year. / Most Aussie artists can’t make a living from their profession. 50% of all artists earn under $7,300 per annum from their art, so they work two to three jobs—their art, a related arts job such as teaching, and non-arts jobs such as telemarketing or whoring (only a trained eye can tell the difference). Even then, many artists earn less than $30,000 from all jobs. Putting this in a wider context, the average artist income from all sources is about the same as a pre-Workchoices casual factory worker. There are many artists who earn significantly less than this. More than one in three artists earn less than the poverty line. How low can you limbo? Do the maths on the gushingly wonderful employment figures hurled at us and see if the current numbers still look good. Both parties agree in principle into ‘looking into’ revitalising arts resources but those who monitor these things tell me implementation of any alleged improvements will take years- will I be alive, I wonder? Will creeping mould keep my cadaver creating art? Will my cellulite finally improve? Meanwhile, back on earth, increasing numbers of frustrated creatives smile like waiters. You can keep the tip. Lobby by Email / So armed with my short list of portfolios I hit the e-mail. It says a lot about this country that we have a Ministry for Arts and Sport – a clear indication of just how valued artistry and imagination are in a our wide, brown bland. Lo and behold it’s perfectly clear – and cunningly, here is the real difference between the two camps. To my pointed questions the ALP promptly replied with polite, lengthy, and vague policy-speak. The Coalition on the other hand – rather tardily – replied with polite, short, vague policy-speak. So here’s my decision. Though neither side has quite an elephant stamp gold star rating when it comes to future incentives to the arts, I’ll go with the side that least inclines to bellicose squandering of our taxes. Maybe, just maybe, some of the money saved will funnel into turning culcha into culture.

• Interview With Chad Witt
  by John Douglas

  Chad Witt (1971 – 2000) was an American gay artist, fascinated by minimalism, detail and the mund…

  Chad Witt (1971 – 2000) was an American gay artist, fascinated by minimalism, detail and the mundane. He had synesthesia and bi-polar disorder. While suffering a savage bout of depression he took his own life in September 2000. A posthumous redbubble profile for Chad means his art can continue to enchant. Thanks to comprehensive correspondence with me, a handy hands-free ouija board and a large bottle of gin I am pleased to post this après-life interview with the talented and ever-inspiring Chad Witt . Your life and art are entwined, impossible to separate. / People have liked to put me into compartments all my life. Some think of me as a drunk, others as an intellect, others as an experimental writer, others as an avant-garde con artist, a film obsessive, an obsessive in general, maker of boring films; and I most often stay within those categories because I’ve always encouraged widely differing stories about me. Who am I? Am I anyone? Is that Chad really Chad? I was born with Synesthesia. It’s been there as long as I remember, but have only known about it for the last 8 years or so – that it had a name. People with it seem to have photographic memory in different areas – mine is visual memory. It’s pretty cool. Anything that makes me perceive more is fine with me. [For example, the colour] Black to me feels like standing still – Blue flows and moves. When I was in the 3rd grade, my school wanted me tested to see if I could be in the gifted program – I took the test and failed miserably. They told my mother I failed, and she told them – ‘Well, just get him in a room and let him talk and that’ll convince you.’ I did that, and I was in the gifted program. When I was 15, I worked as a volunteer at a museum. Odd as it may seem, there were/are museums at Fresno. They just really suck. I did learn a lot of useful stuff. Once, I accidentally broke a pre-Columbian piece of pottery, and tore a corner of a Warhol litho. Managed to cover it up. Sometimes I imagine someone discovering my ‘mistakes’. Not likely though. The tear wasn’t that big – and it was 70’s Warhol so who gives a shit? When I was 17, I suddenly had a hard time playing the piano. Mainly, it was almost impossible for me to separate left and right – almost impossible to play with both hands at the same time. / By Way of a Self Portrait I studied in LA with a pupil of Schoenberg’s, and then in Paris with Pierre Boulez for a summer. He’s been a huge influence on me since I was about 14. Not just in music but in everything. I think the best teachers reveal you to yourself, and give you permission to follow your own instincts and give you a push and shove when you need it. I lasted 10 days at college, then decided it’s not for everyone. Sometimes I get nervous cos I didn’t go to Art School. I doubt my ability. And that can be hell to deal with. Growing up, no one ever praised my writing or music at all, just called it weird, very difficult, crap. Much harder to deal with as an adult. People who haven’t gone to a proper school are somehow taken less seriously. I think I look terrible, paint awful stuff, write dismally, write crappy music. Don’t think much of myself or my abilities, if I have them. Always so unsatisfied with what I do. Doing art, it seems so half-hearted to me – like it doesn’t work. Writing too – it never comes out the way I’d like. I think film is the one area where I can be pleased with myself, and making total synthesis happen. In work, I don’t think I have any desire to be ‘understood’, I just wanna do shit and if people connect with it or like it that’s ok. And if they don’t, that’s ok too. / Usually I just assume stuff I do is shit and don’t save anything. / Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (In the State of Drunkenness) I LOVE to work. It feeds this deep part of me. I don’t think it’s ego related at all – just how it makes my brain and body feel. I get into this deep harmony and tranquillity mood. / Art is the most wonderful drug of all. Tell us about one person who has been particularly special. / I wouldn’t be me without John Cage. He’s been a pivotal influence on me. When I met him – he’s one of the few people I’ve met who have an actual aura. One of those rare moments in my life that’s so amazing that I think to myself, ‘Ok, I can die now.’ I know that not only will Cage be remembered as probably the most influential composer of the 20th Century, he’ll also be remembered as one of the truly great minds of our century. He taught us so much and cared so much. Told us that there was no such thing as noise and that everything we do is music – which blows my mind, still, all the time. John Cage said that the concern of any artist in any field is to try and make everything beautiful. That anyone can make shit ugly, but it takes a gifted and profound artist to make it beautiful too. I agree. Art is so beautiful when it seems like magic. / Phil’s Placebo I – Possible View from the Gutter, Fremont St Your creative process relies on the spaces between as much as what is seen. / I love ‘empty places’, cos your mind has to fill them up. Deserts make you confront yourself and your psyche. I’m a firm believer that things are meant to happen – not by divine force, but, well, Francis Bacon said he believed in a deeply organised chaos, and I agree with that. Chance is a lovely thing. The older I get the less I need aesthetics. Casting off shit is one of the most glorious things in life I think. I need less and less. I like things that can mean anything you want it to mean – it just depends what you bring to it. I look at it like this – I pile meaning on top of meaning so that I can free myself from all of them – that way people can start at zero. My own work is hard to describe, I guess. People call me conceptual, but I never usually call myself that as it scares off too many. Maybe I should start calling it the ‘C’ word, or something. I almost always listen to music when I work. Stimulates me. But more importantly, it gets me in a rhythm. My ideal way of working is getting into a rhythm that’s intense, where I really hear the music, but I don’t hear it, but also I like to make everything else besides the music oblivious – so that nothing else exists. Nino Rota’s music for Fellini’s films always gets me working and moving. / Landscape in the Mist, Scotland One thing I tend to do when I’m bored – write with my left hand and draw with the right one, at the same time. You have a gift for observing places and situations unnoticed by most. / Little things make me very happy. More and more, I find the ordinary things overlooked by people, so f*ing beautiful and astonishing. Reminds me of a favourite saying of Fellini’s: ‘There is no beginning, there is no end – there is only the infinite passion for life,’ and I agree completely. Life is incredibly compelling and way too interesting to coast through. Why be ordinary when you can be extraordinary? More Chad at Chad Witt Online