Sunday, March 30, 2008

Camp Log X: The End

One last breakfast of chilli-moccos, and one more dip in the ocean and it's over. We broke camp down like pros, in less than an hour. It's been a great three days, and I feel ready to tackle the next season's challenges...

Camp Log IX: 1st light Lst Day

I needed this camp more than I thought I did. The sunrise is humbling, and Im thankfull to have this before starting the next school term. Classes at night and work during the day have slowly worn away at my motivations and goals. This trip has given me time to think and recharge.

Camp Log VIII: Fire

The skit totally bombed. I thought that this crowd was into bathroom humor, but as it turns out they are more into miming. Note to self: Blake tap dances and will cheat to win. Fire = good, dancing over the fire to prove your 'skillz' and save a bad doo-doo joke = bad.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Camp Log VII: The Stash

This is a pile of treasure collected by a family in the site next to us. Apparantly they had plently of golf balls, pierced shells, and blue glass from previous camping trips. As soon as they left we raided their wood stash for tonight's fire. There is a talent show scheduled for later. Need to practice skit...

Camp Log VI: beginnings

We spent the afternoon searching for shelter with little luck. I was loosing hope when I found Blake and Franco in another campsite, chatting it up with a family of yellow-bottomed brush spiders from boston, who incidentally forgot to bring tinfoil for the sweet potatoes they were about to grill. Being prepared we gave them a few feet of ours, and in return they were kind enough to spin us brand new tents for the night.

Camp Log V: Hash Brown Donburi

This is what we do. It's who we are.

Camp Log IV : morning crew

Last night ended with brief showers, but we managed to stay dry by lighting things on fire. Needless to say, I need a new tent. Somthing to think about over pancakes fried in bacon fat. I LOVE CAMPING.

Friday, March 28, 2008

camp log III

this is Carl's poke. Its mean. not angry. MEAN.

camp log II

OH man. I cant tell you how much the soft sands at malaekahana can heal your toes. Being stuck in shoes and slacks all the time makes this feel like a piece of heaven.

camp log I

Just left the city, looking forward to a great weekend! campsite looks good, weather is perfect, and plenty of snacks ready to go...

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Brand New Key

Someone keeps stealing the bathroom key at my office. Now the thing that gets to me, is that this is the second time this has happened this month. The second time this month that I've had to hold my business for as long as possible. The second time that, when i can't hold it no more, I reatreat to the second-floor dentist office, where I sneak into the facilities there. The second time this month that I flee from the dentist's bathroom before a suspecting patron or hygenist catches me in the act. The third time I've worn a wig in an effort to not be recognized in a bathroom stall, and the fifth time I've crapped myself as an adult. Please. Give back the key. I'm about to go into the trash can in protest of such a vile world where bathroom keys are teated like a second-class inanimate objects like shoelaces or gas station receipts. It was a brand new key man, a brand new key.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

He Said

I think i may be in love again. Well, I feel like I am. I don't know, every time this happens, i think to myself: 'What the hell are you doing??? what are you thinking?? The thing is when all is said and done, it doesn't look like love in retrospect. Not after you're driving back home from their house for the last time, wondering what the hell just happened. Not when you think back at all the time and energy you gave away in the name of it, all trapped in pictures stuck in your friend's cameras that come back to haunt you months after you thought you'd gotten over it...Not as much as it did when you were there ya know?? When you were holding eachother in the dark, perfectly fitting together like pieces of a broken window wondering what the fuck else you could possibly say to this person other than that. It doesn't get sweeter. Or does it? I just want this to last as long as it possibly can. Professionally and intellectually I know I want so much more from life than where I am now, but in terms of my heart...I wanna be stuck here forever. I know I know, that's immature and all that. That's me. The peter pan of broken hearts. I'm scared that growing up means leaving this kind of stuff behind. Maybe growing up means a love thats deeper than the peace of mind that comes with the scent of your significant other. GRRRR. Too much thinking about it. I'm just going to enjoy it for now...

Monday, March 24, 2008

phone blog test.

This is the view from my office. well, its not so much a view as it is a visual insult, and its not so much of an office as it is a desk in a hallway. I love mondays.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Media Validates Aging Artist

So for the 1st time i got my adwork into a major local paper... this is a huge deal for me. I've never had the pleasure of seeing my work printed on such a grand scale. It so weird.

Deep down inside, there is a part of me that is dissappointed in myfelf though.. It's the side of me that ran away to LA to become a starving artist. The kid that said He'd never sell out, (not that I'm getting any richer) or do art for money. Of course, the 'old self' didn't do art in LA as much as he did work at coffeeshops and get high a whole lot. Dont get me wrong, that angry kid had a hell of a good time searching for more life questions to dissect, but they never ended with an answer, just another question...and well, that 'starving artist' kid managed to raise an impressive amount of credit card debt in his misadventures. And he didn't really do all that much starving...

I suppose maybe i'm just better at being a yuppie than a hippie.

I have a car now, and car payments, a Roth IRA and all that jazz. And that part of me smiles when I see the artwork in the paper that validates my own evolution. In the end I guess I'm just the kind of 9-to-fiver, save adventures for the weekends, celebrate birthdays with nice dinners, kind of man I fought so hard to become: I'm finally finding myself happy.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Keepin it Real

Ok. Admission time. I know, I know, it's like the SECOND day im doing this and already I have to purge. Trust me, I wanted a few 'normal' introductory blogs to kick things off, ya favorite color is green, I have a salt water tank, blah blah blah....

Last night I watched Enchanted on DVD. for the SECOND time. That's right: I paid to see it. I dont know why, but the gayness in me really comes out when it comes to Disney musicals, even if they are self-parodies. Gimme a singing virgin and an animal sidekick and I'm hooked. Aside from the instinctual draw for me, what I really like about the film is how it manages to address the things in real life that are 'fantasy killers' and forces them into song and dance for our amusement.

The only real qualm I have with the movie is one specific scene where Giselle (jezel? jah-sel?) feels anger for the first time, and in front of millions of families across the world who bought into the film up until this point...feels lust. Now maybe I'm the minority here (yeah I'm asian, --I'm talking bout the movie) but the movie went from a classy and tastefull depiction of a modern day fantasy, to a brief soft-core moment where jezebel (how could I leave that alone) is twirling her fingers around the chest hairs of a man who happens to be spoken for...WHOA...

Well looks like they thought they should keep it 'really real' after all. But then...well it just makes me wonder what Giselle goes though when she starts feelin cramps at the end of the month...

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

The Image of Man

So this is the bloggosphere? The virtual place where all our memories and experiences will be stored? Is this the final frontier??? When all is said and done and we are extinct, leaving the barren landscape earth to the flies and the roaches, this is all that will be left. Small mainframes burried in sand and vines, holding the last depictions of earths final days... What will my blog look like on the last day before the power goes out? Will I know that this is all that is left of us, that our swan song is in flickr and myspace and trapped in a dead technology for other intelligent life to one day pry open and exclaim: 'what a damn shame...'