In an unexpected turn of events I've managed to spend two consecutive nights in my living room, in the dark, with Yoshimura. The surprise attack of Eraserhead on Sunday night followed by the equally surprising arrival of a rather extensive collection of Stan Brakhage short films on Monday has proven entertaining and extremely enlightening.

I've long been a fan of film, I'd imagine at least since I got to see Return of the Jedi in the theater as a child. Like every other kid I loved the movies, especially ones cleverly targeted at my specific age group (let's face it folks, The Sandlot is awesome, that discussion is off the table). But it wasn't until I grew up a little and saw Pulp Fiction and Clerks that I began to realize how much I thoroughly enjoyed film, and how determined I was to see it all.

I've never had any film classes, never studied theory at USC or had stirring guest lectures at NYU. What I have managed to do is read nearly everything that I can get my hands on that points me in certain directions, turns me on to new things and then through the awesome power of Netflix and the DVD I can actually see these things in my own home. This brings me back to my original point... Stan Brakhage. There is no other time in my life where these films could or would have made sense to me. It's not for everyone, but if you find yourself wrapped up in what he's doing then you'll be there all night.

Even if you don't care for the man's work, it would be incredibly difficult not to appreciate the four short documentaries that come packaged in with the films, "Brackhage on Brakhage I-IV." In these he discusses his work, his life, his reactionary stance to Andy Warhol's "Factory" and his younger days with Jackson Pollock. In one especially interesting story he tells of the New York art society relocating for one night to a cabin in the woods to eyeball the latest efforts from Mr. Pollock.

As Pollock heard one critic mumbling about the importance of chance in his work he grew angry. In a drunken fury of swear words he pulled from behind him a brush and demanded the audience look to a doorknob on the other side of the room. With a whip of the brush a small drop of paint sailed across the room, hitting the knob dead-center. He turned back to his critics and said, "That's what I think of chance, now there's the fucking door."

Listening to that story really made me think about art in general. I've never been an art aficionado by any stretch of the imagination, but I do know what I enjoy. I enjoy museums, and I thoroughly enjoyed the two semesters of art history that I took in college. Unfortunately, compared to at least two of the people in my immediate circle of friends my art knowledge borders on that of your average potted plant (and that's just the individuals that I know of, for all I know I could be the absolute bottom rung of the totem pole). But I figured I'd try something a little different with Blogjammin' today and show off a few of the pieces that I actually really enjoy.

Don't run away just yet, it's only three... I swear.

First, we'll stick with the Abstract Impressionists. Mark Rothko's "Orange and Yellow" is just an absolutely beautiful and comforting piece. I was initially drawn to it while flipping through an art textbook and noticing it not for it's aesthetic quality, but because an original painting from a friend of mine that once hung over my bed appeared to be so strongly influenced by it. After looking into Rothko's other work I found many other pieces to be equally comforting, but why not stick with my first.


Next, the Neo-Dadists, and my favorite artist, Claes Oldenburg. It's difficult for me to say which of Oldenburg's works is my favorite, but "Soft Pay Telephone" seemed to be the most appropriate for this particular post. I absolutely love the use of simple materials to bend such common objects around one man's perspective, changing the appearance so drastically while still maintaining it's general form.

Finally, "Untitled" by Robert Rauschenberg. It seems as if Rauschenberg's work has had more of an influence on the people around me than I'd originally thought. Looking at some of the work put on display at this year's Millard L. Webb Film Festival frequently put me in the mindset of this painting in particular. However, don't deny yourself the pleasure of "Shades" or "Labor's Centennial."

So, there you go. I've talked about film, politics, society and now art. Just trying to branch out a little, cover some new things to keep you on your toes. I'd imagine that about ten people have made it this far into this post... and that may be generous. However, if you're still reading this then let me say thank you. I certainly appreciate it. After all, it's what blogging is all about, right... sharing ideas.