Blank card.

untitled
Originally uploaded by Tracing Is Fun

Collage, thread.  

Thank you card.

untitled
Originally uploaded by Tracing Is Fun

Pencil, collage, thread. 

Shout Out To Submarines!

I listened to ODB (Ol' Dirty Bastard for all you non-slang folks) on the ride home today from work, and it had me thinking; If ODB can make it, I can too. Well, then again, I am not addicted to crack (just yet) and my heart has yet to fail (literally, not figuratively).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAI_xK51P5o

I am trapped in an awkward phase is my life where I keep running into everyone I used to know. All Elliott Smith quotes aside, I really am trying to keep both feet forward without tripping over my shoe laces. I really feel as though I have so much going for me, yet nothing at all. It seems as though when the going gets tough, the tough get going. Well, they get a moving and that is what I am aiming for. There comes a time when you have to venture out of the box and move towards something big, or something bigger. I kicked my ragged shoes off and jumped in a rain puddle just to feel something at all. I realized the roses are red, I really hate the feeling of sandpaper, and that I can not rely on people who are unreliable. Sometimes you have to do things yourself, and darling, I did it all, or at least I am trying to.

Until Next Time,
Much Love.
Jbright

thoughts from the midwest

My name is Rhea and I am from Ohio. A smallish town in the Northeastern quadrant of the Buckeye State by the name of Akron. A few blips in popular and general culture have shown up on the national radar; the first zepplins and now blimps were built here, F.A. Seiberling headed up the Goodyear Tire/Rubber Co making Akron the rubber capital, AA was founded here in the gatehouse at the mansion of the aforementioned Seiberling's, DEVO created their own brand of punk/electro/evolution rock, and the Soap Box Derby runs yearly down the hills. There are, of course, other things that go on in Akron but these are the few that come to my mind when trying to explain the rusty town in which I was born. We don't have tall buildings (only about two), we aren't internationally renowned for our dining or theater or art. Akron does have something though, something that on my most recent trip back to visit I started to notice after the normal resistance to being home had faded. 

I knew this spirit when I was younger, a few years ago and still living here. Many trips to many places in my late teens to early twenties gave me a strong urge to leave, yet my friendships I had forged through skateboarding gave me this odd respect for the place that we all came from. On top of that, all the people I knew who had left returned after short stints mostly on the west coast. They missed family or friends or just didn't like the place where that had moved. There was always this something else that they missed too. It had been described as down to earth and realness, but these weren't the definition either. 

As I moved I found it hard to leave my friends and family and the comfortable places that I drove and walked over my entire life. I stuck it out and moved out to.....Indiana. This was short lived and I moved to Chicago after a year which I enjoyed immensely. I felt alive and young and scared and on the edge of growing up. It was great. The more I visited Akron the less I missed it. The more I was away the more it frustrated me. People that stayed were lazy and those that left were trailblazing heroes....in my head. Maybe this is selfishness or maybe it is just moving through a developmental stage in one's life. Regardless, for the past couple of months it has been incredibly hard to visit. Until this last time before I embark on a cross country drive.

The beginning of this visit was rough and I tried to quickly get over my withdrawal of the busy Chicago everyday. I've been trying to make the best of my days here, see family and good friends. Today I had a particular errand to run. It's totally boring and I knew it would be useless but I wanted to get an estimate on some rust on my car. The auto place was incredibly hard to find, it's located off of and antiquated traffic circle in the township of Tallmadge. So after turning around for the 4th time I headed back in to the cyclical beast. I sat idling in traffic waiting for my turn to go. There's a bank that I used to frequent to my left and an A&W stand to my right. I noticed an oil change place just north of the bank. I just happened to look at the garage door, when a tough looking, shaved-bald guy presumably with tattoos came out. He quickly stretched his arms out and reached up to the sky in an almost childish movement. Out of his hands came a butterfly. It flew fast out of the man's grasp and took off over the roof of the garage and kept going. The moment was so strange, this tiny delicate creature flying out of a muscular and sweaty mechanic. I figured in the moment that even though I was stuck in stupid traffic I had at least witnessed a very interesting sight. "These things don't happen every day", I thought to myself and tried to smile alone. After having some time to meditate on the past days and what's happened in them I feel as though I might know what that something is that I have been trying to name. It's home and where you are from whether you like it or not.  It just is who you are. 

The Kids In the Hall at Chicago Theater

So I had an amazing time seeing The Kids In The Hall. Like, strangely overwhelmingly nostalgic, emotional, amazing good time. Its almost embarrassing how shaped I was by television. Isn't that just so American, raised by t.v.? Is it slightly redeeming that they are Canadian? Anyway, Aaron and I file into our seats as the lights go down and a video illuminates the screen over the stage in front of us. And so begins a prerecorded sketch of the five paunchy, aged members of, in my opinion, the best damned comedy troop ever. I have to admit, although I had been mentally preparing myself to see my t.v. idols too many years out of their prime, it was a bit unsettling at first to see the former youths look like melting wax figures from gravity and time taking its toll. The introductory, on-screen sketch was of the group brainstorming ideas for their new tour, deciding that raping Kevin, despite his wishes, would be the best way to make their grand entrance. "No, no, no." Kevin pleaded. "What if we... rape Bruce! Yeah!" The group stared back blankly. "Pretty hee-haw kind of stuff there Kevin," replied Bruce. And so, the final vote was to rape Kevin. "We could even open the whole show with it, if we play our theme song..." Suddenly, the film comes to life with the booming signature guitar riffs of Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet filling the theater, and four screaming Kids chasing one Speedo-ed Kevin with an apple in his mouth move from the screen to the stage. The crowd roars! The show begins! All the energy of the once youthful figures is alive and well right in front of my eyes. There is the magic. I am so glad I came. This feels unreal.

Seeing The Kids In the Hall, the great idols of my teenage years, shapers of my personality more than school and church and girl scouts combined, well, it was strange and weird and wonderful all at the same time. These characters I grew up with were becoming a reality, screaming and cursing, the actors changing between takes and fumbling their lines, Kevin at one point cracking up and hiding under a chair for his faux pas. They were as I had never thought I would see them. REAL. It was like being a little kid, and thinking, man I love Oscar the Grouch. You may not realize he's a puppet, but you certainly would be confused if he was real. And then you get to meet him. And he's really real, right in front of you. Meeting Oscar the Grouch. I'd be like, "What you got in that trash can, Oscar the Grouch?" and he'd show me. Take me on a tour. But that's another time. These people are the characters they play in a sense. What is the Chicken Lady without Mark? Its just a costume. So I sat there and watch my idols, my favorite characters, all really real, right in front of me, with a big dumb smile plastered on my face for the duration of the show, hooting and hollering, jeering and laughing, and welling with tears. Yes, tears. Because I was laughing so hard, yes, but also tears for the glow I felt inside watching my heroes come to life.

Its funny, as an adult, I am hardly ever star-struck anymore, ya' know. People are people, and that's that. But these people on this night, they were an exception to that rule. Most memories from childhood never quite keep their same shape. We learn new pieces to the puzzle, we find out the rest of the story as we grow up and learn about life and our past. You find out what really happened that day, and the memories start to lose their golden glow. But all that was good and gold about The Kids In the Hall never changed for me. So much of my humor and understanding and open-mindedness came from watching Buddy, one of the only homosexuals I knew of growing up in small-town Ohio, or the shoulder-padded Kathy's under their glass ceiling. They forced me to just begin cracking the surface of feminism and oppression and hypocrisy and prejudice, subjects I still unfold the layers of to this day. These characters and commentaries questioned the government and religion, stereotypes and oppression. They made me laugh, yes, but most importantly, they made me think. I wanted to go up there and hug each and every one of them and thank them for being such amazing individuals, and for coming back into my adult reality to say hello. And, sadly, to say goodbye. Scott, Mark, Kevin, Bruce and Dave, they all had a hand in my upbringing, and I cried tears of joy when I was able to stand with hundreds of others touched individuals in that packed Chicago Theater and thank them in person with a thunderous, cheering, standing ovation. And the best part of all this was my husband standing at my side. We met each other as adults, and we exchange stories of our upbringing, but we can never really know what it was like to know each other as kids. But we both grew up on The Kids. We both know what that was like, watching and laughing and learning from these crazy Canadians in small-town Ohio. We probably like parts of each other that were somewhat formed by Kids In the Hall humor. And that's just great. I love that. I really do. I loved the show. My husband loved the show. And together, we still love the Kids In the Hall, after all these years.

Thank you Bruce McCulloch, Mark McKinney, Dave Foley, Scott Thompson, Kevin McDonald, Paul Bellini, Lorne Michaels, and everyone else who had a hand in making The Kids In the Hall a reality. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Written with love by Danielle N. Kramer

Rape Kevin! Sketch

Me & Josh Caterer

“Hey man, Duvall’s playin’ in Chicago next week, you wanna’ go?” Tom said to me on the phone one winter day in Ohio circa 2002. I fucking love the Smoking Popes! I thought in my head. Since I will never see them live because they had to go and break up before I got into them, Duvall will be the closest thing to that. “Yes! I am there!” I responded. Tom then told me that we could stay with Chris from Showoff, because they will be opening up for them at this show. Awesome. Little did Tom know that Chris would rip him off 900 dollaz in a couple months, for a friendly gesture gone wrong. But that’s a whole different story all together and end’s with us prank phone calling his ex-rock-star-ass in Bum Fuck, Missouri at his delightful Domino’s pizza job.

We set off that next weekend and drove to Chris’ in “Chicago”. I use “ “ because when we ended up at his house it was nowhere near Chicago. That suburban shit town of Joliet, Illinois was where we ended up staying. I set my frustration aside from not being in the city I wanted to visit so much, and tried to enjoy myself. We got the girl drink drunk on at his apartment and went to bed.

The next day we saddled up with the rest of the band from Showoff and headed to what I thought would be CHICAGO! Fucking wrong again. Goddamn middle of nowhere Illinois. Next stop DeKalb, Illinois! Looks exactly like JJJJoliet! A friggin’ Elks Lodge is where the show was. I couldn’t believe it. Shut up Aaron. You get to see three of the original members of the Smoking Popes play their new Christian inspired rock. It will be sweet. Repeat in head. Again. Again. Okay, this is gonna’ be awesome.

Showoff was fun to watch, I think we snuck some booze in and did that shit and all. The drummer, Mike Felumlee, of Duvall/Smoking Popes was walking around and I approached him. He used to drum for the Alkaline Trio, another one of ma’ favzz. I was friggdiggity nervous, but managed to utter a couple words that I cannot even remember and had him sign his solo cd that I just purchased from his wife at the merchandise table.

That done, Tom and I saw Eli Caterer and approached him. Tom befriended him, and still talks to him to this day in random parts of the country at shows. I got his autograph on my Duvall ep that he didn’t even play on. He was cool, but I felt he wasn’t used to fans approaching him like that.

It was showtime! Duvall started to play as I filmed it on my shite camera on some tape that sits in a box in my closet. The show was great. They played there ep songs and a couple covers. They ended with a Smoking Popes song, Josh Caterer’s favorite, “ I Know You Love Me” acoustic style. Fun, fun, fun. Yes it was. But there was something missing, oh yeah…..rocking!!!! I believe that Josh had lost a little bit of that rock n' roll jimmy jammz, and he didn’t want to show it, but I could feel it. I could see behind his eyes that he felt it too. Maybe it’s just my opinion, but I feel he wanted something more from what he was doing, but it was gonna’ take a couple years for it to kick in.

I felt a connection to him. I saw Duvall a handful of times in the next couple of years at random spots. There were rumors that Smoking Popes where gonna’ go at it again. I said fuck that, it ain’t gonna’ happen. Josh would never let me see him play “Pretty Pathetic” live, that’s not how my life works.

I kind of lost interest in keeping up with the bands news, but still bought their records. Then in the fall of 2005, something happened. Josh got his shit together and was doing a reunion show at the Metro in Chicago. I found out about it a little too late and couldn’t attend, but quickly purchased the cd/dvd from the show when it was released. Coincidently, I can’t find it on my shelf anymore. Maybe Zach has it in Cleveland?

Anyways, a tour started and I eventually saw them at the Grog Shop in the fall of '06 with Tom, Danielle, and Zach. It was a scarce crowd, I guess Ohio had given up on them too, but that didn’t stop my own posse from lovin’ every second of it. The rumors of a new album where running through the crowd, but not until last night (a year and a half later) did it actually come into my possession at their record release show at the Metro Chicago. I am listening to it, and am quite pleased. The show was packed and Sundowner opened. Yes, it did happen, on 6.07.08. They got back together and now they are doing it again. Something that I thought would just not happen, but kind of did.

I know I’ll never see Nirvana or The Clash play again, for obvious reasons, but I kind of always knew way deep inside (that’s a pun on a song title if you listen to this shit). I felt it in DeKalb when I saw Josh sing that one Smoking Popes song acoustic, that this was only a temporary thing. The real Josh will be back, and yes, he has returned. Whatever personal things he had going on in his life in the last ten years, I respect that, but goddamn, thanks for getting over that shit. It really means a lot. I guess that the moral/theme of this quick piece is that my teenage self developed immensely from his songwriting and inspired a lot of what I am today. I give him that. It was a period of about 6-7 years that this took place for me personally, and that’s a brief story of me and Josh Caterer. I think Tommy Sproles would enjoy this. And….I’m done.

-Aaron H. Baker

I'll start with old work...

but I promise I will make new.

What's Goin' On

I guess I started this because I saw a possibility to share.  I invited all of you because I see what great things you have to offer.  I think at this point many of us are in the same boat.  We all have something to say, something to show, but many of us don't have any real platform.  With no platform, its difficult to continue to perform, to make.  I have seen something special in all of you.  And I know you all see it in each other too, that's why we are all friends and hang out and share stories and start bands and take trips together.  I want to see our efforts in a group, a community, a place with support and feedback and influence and inspiration.  My hope is that this will bring out the urge to write if you don't normally write, or photograph if you don't normally photograph, or start the project you have been turning over in your head but never got going.  We are funny and talented and insightful, so lets all make something happen.  I'm done being sappy.  Those are my words of inspiration for tonight.

This blogck will self destruct. 

P.S.  

Fuck a zine.  Dani's goin digital.

Hey Fellow Writers

So about this blog...

Well, I guess this is a way to stay connected, creatively, conversationally, whatever.  Some of you are far away, others are right in my bed, (yes you Aaron, no one else is in my bed).  But for the most part, I am not currently collaborating with anyone, and I would like to, even if its something small.  I really miss having an artistic community.  So I am inviting all you artsy-fartsies to join me in posting your business up here to share with the group. 

This could also be an opportunity to advertise our individual endeavors.  I figure if people think the awesome crap we put on here is cool in any way, maybe we can divert those suckas from their normal routine into coming to our opening or screening or whatever we have going on at the time.  Get my drift?  Hey, get my drift?  Yeah, I say that now.  This is also an opportunity to find out what we all are listening to, watching, or whatever, so reviews are encouraged.  Yeah, that is what we talk about all day long anyway, but there's nothing more beautiful than writing your carefully crafted opinions down as you discover what you really think.  Not just drunken convo.  (Yes, I also say convo now.  I am finding so much out about myself already).

So if you want to post art or shorts or sketches or reviews or whatever you want to put up, do it.  Maybe I will get my shit together and make a zine out of it.  Who knows.  Thanks for reading, and in advance, if you do, thanks for participating.   Any ideas, feedback, invites, requests to change this dumb name, whatever, are more than welcome.

Thanks guys!

-D