A Place Away From The Snakes

I love the color scheme and layout of the Cannes Lions site. Louis Vuitton Journeys utilizes some of the best flash video integration I've seen. (Check out the Keith Richards profile and the beautiful photo of him by Annie Leibovitz!) And filmmaker Mike Mills' collection of short videos, design posters, and favorite links is sure to keep the graphic enthusiast stimulated for hours at a time.

Holy Fuck - "Lovely Allen"

Not only is "Holy Fuck" an epic band name, but their decidely lo-fi approach to indie/electonica is one of the most refreshing things I've heard in a long time.

They Gone

Resisting Cooperation With The Mundane Gloom

Notes For a Film Noir Script I Will Never Get Around To Writing

To Take The Black Out Of The Storm Clouds

Between 1997-2001 Radiohead's "OK Computer" was literally the soundtrack to my life. Every story I wrote and every image I created was influenced by this classic. The artwork for "OK Computer," by Stanley Donwood, was also my initial foray into graphic design, and perhaps the single biggest reason why I enrolled in art school when contemplating a post-graduate degree. Of course nothing remains sacred forever, and for the past several years I've ventured far beyond the band's influence, to the point where it's been ages since I dusted it off for a listen. (Even when I saw Radiohead two summers ago in Berkeley the luster was gone.) However, re-discovering the graphic elements of this seminal album a few hours ago was quite thrilling, particularly seeing it all in one place: the front and back cover, the inside sleeves, singles, various outtakes, and the DVD packaging for "Meeting People is Easy." The use of old transportation safety manuals and aggregate marketing charts from the 1950's - 1970's, the lo-fi type treatments that seem right out of David Carson's "The End of Print," the sociological critique that was the foundation of Chuck Palahniuk's brilliant novel "Choke" all are right there for the taking. From a design perspective, there's nothing better than when concept is matched by execution. During a period when the CD is being phased out as a medium, when brand collateral refers to official myspace pages, I would argue that this packaging treatment - which parallels or perhaps even exceeds the alienation of the 11 bittersweet songs - is the pinnacle of album cover art, something we may never see again.

And Away We Go

Malediction

A Deal to Die For

A Kind Enigma

Have been going through old photographs recently and will be posting random shots from my archive over the next few days. This is from 2004, taken on the porch of my place on Q Street in Sacramento. Nothing extraordinary here, but I just like the red "Streets of San Francisco" Oldsmobile parked in front, and the exposure burns on the left side of the frame. (The first shot of the roll.) This image is like a relic from another era.

Times Like This

Went through a box of old photographs the other day and came across these four shots of Jennifer from grad school, taken with one of those cheap disposable Kodaks. This represents some of the first shots I ever took with real film, long before I ever experimented with cross-processing. As much as I'd like to think my photography has matured and evolved over the years, these are still some of my favorite images. Of course Jennifer's genius in these poses has a lot to do with it.

Young Henry III aka Big Bank Hank

Favorite Movie Posters | DVD Covers

I know I've forgotten (and omitted) many but this is a pretty cool collection. Funny Games is a new discovery and I just can't take my eyes off it. Next week: book covers.

Mastering Chaos

"Edward Lorenz, the father of chaos theory, who showed how small actions could lead to major changes in what became known as the "butterfly effect," died of cancer on Wednesday at the age of 90, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology said."

Decompression

I've been in a dark place the past few days. Most people know to leave me alone when I get like this - I mean my game face is enough to scare off the the warmest smile - and yet, yesterday, while waiting for my latte, this flamboyantly gay hippie asked for change. Normally when homeless people ask for something I couldn't be cooler, but again, yesterday I was unapproachable, so when I said, sorry, bro, I can't help you, I expected him to move on. Instead he just stood there, inches from my face. He asked for a dollar this time, and again I said, sorry, I can't help you, only this time it was with more emphasis and, probably, more disgust. He still wouldn't leave. It was at this point that the fruit decided I was the reincarnation of Lucifer himself. He gave me this look like I was the most revolting person he had ever encountered, making this "ewwwww, gross" expression, only he still wouldn't get out of my face, and kept turning around and then back, trying to find another customer that would be on his side and agree with his assessment. I found myself getting warmer. I looked at the girl behind the counter, the one who helps me everyday, and motioned to her with me eyes, like, hey, get this cunt away from me. He asked a third time for change and I didn't respond, just staring him straight in the eye. When he asked "what?" like he couldn't fathom what was annoying me, I told him to leave me the fuck alone. This time I must have said it emphatically, because two employees came from behind the counter and asked him to leave.

But he didn't, waiting outside the door, and then he followed me back to the gallery, the whole time walking a few feet behind me and behaving like I had been the biggest disappointment of his young life.

I don't know why this incident stuck with me. I mean, I guess it was sort of troubling to go through this ordeal in public, but it isn't like I don't experience tweakers every day. But the thing is, another couple of seconds and something bad would have happened, something really bad, and it's scary to think what a few traumatic experiences can trigger in my mind.

One of these days I'm gonna lose the war.

I guess this explains why I've been watching Jacob's Ladder the past three evenings with my mouth wide open, unable to muster a sound.