Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Just another day at the office of burger makin'...

Durko's art in Vancouver... Friday, Dec. 16


There is a party at the GALLERY 1666 this friday in Vancouver. There are musicians, photographers and artists, including myself. I will be showing 4 pieces, as part of the group showing. Come down, look at some art, maybe buy some, listen to music, get hammered, get arrested. Maybe not in that order...

Check the link below for more info:

http://www.facebook.com/events/277608642274823/

IDIOT RACE


I am feeling a bit of rage and malaise these days. It used to be fairly diabolical and downright clinical for me. For years. But I learned how to find my way to contentment and peace, for the most part. I had to stop watching television, stop putting chemicals into my brain and body, stop entertaining my pain body in all sorts of unhealthy ways, stop walking the path of blackness and embrace life as it should be, a gift of joy and wonder...
I think for the most part, this recipe has been a success, I have remained well balanced and have actually garnered hope when I look out into the abyss that is the modern world.

I know the signs all too well. I withdraw from social situations, cease making art, become reactionary toward anyone who has a contradictory opinion and on and on...
I sometimes just have the urge to pull out an arsenal of semi-automatic weapons and gun down a bunch of people.
Thank goodness for strict gun laws in this country. Oh, wait, didn't the Cons just repeal the gun registry? I guess it might just be a lot easier to do something like that. Stay tuned...

I know the reason for my dark season. It is the general absurdity and idiocy with which most people on this fucking planet are governing themselves. It seems to be a real shit show out there and it's only getting worse. Where are our leaders, where are our liberators?

All over the world, a war is breaking out between the oppressors and their captors, whether it is the Arab Spring, Occupy Wall Street or just the general "Fuck you!" from a lot of people, there are lines being drawn in the sand.
And as I stand here, I cannot help but asking, "Whose side are you on, boy?"
Because there are a lot of people that I disagree with on a daily basis and do not always speak up or act, out of politeness, but I know I am reaching that critical mass point again, the point where I start collecting foes, instead of friends. I don't need friends that hate social programs, deny climate change, call protestors hippies, make racist remarks, or just don't give a shit about anything but themselves.
I think we are an idiot race and I lose respect and empathy for us, the older I get.
When are we going to wake up and smell the fucking coffee?
Not anytime soon, I guess...


Thursday, December 8, 2011

I'd be lost without you.

Short Poems for New Westminster part 2



Time changes all through life
Though, so slowly
You rarely take notice
Nary a thought goes to it
As you look through lost pictures
Of the fire that is you
You see yourself as courageous
All the things you have fought for
Win or lose, you knew the reason for the fight
Was the fight itself
Standing on the steps
Berating who contradict
The ideal view, which was your own
As you grew whiskers
And the whiskers became grey
You got the hang of living
And living, you realised
Meant giving
It's hard to be honest with yourself
When you know the explanation
For your tribulations
Lies within
The walls didn't go up overnight
The bricks were laid as you went along
Through your life
The polarisation burned you
Like an ant under a magnifying glass
Sometimes you do battle
The majority spent hiding in the safe house
Of the world you create and foster
An impostor, in your own experience
A mask of a smile in the crowd
Do you think others tire of you?
Most do not, people recognise incapacity
And embrace the face
That you are working so hard to put out there
Who we are is who we share
And now Christmas is coming
And you dread it in a way
Why do you do this to yourself every year?
Your moxie makes it happen
Selfless, relentless apprentice
The frequency is the barometer
It isn't how much but when?
It isn't here, it is there
We all dream of what lies
Round the next bend
Because one can never have too many friends
Decisions are the things that break you

Shake you down

Or make you


Talking Science with Creationists


I must start this writing by first apologising to the 4 people that read, and lately just check, this blog, for leaving them with the longest dry spell in the history of us bothering to write it all down...
I really have just been busy with my visual arts. I have not been making too many new pieces, I have undertaken the whole marketing side of my art. Which is not ideal because I am an artist, not a marketer. And until I sell a pile of art and have tons of shows, I cannot expect any form of professional representation, especially not in this art desert that is Vancity. Oh, I guess it isn't that bad. There are plenty of savvy Vancouverites who have a keen eye for the visual, they just need to be herded like sheep or led to the trough. Sorry for all the animal references but how could I resist in the face of a city rioting over the outcome of a hockey game? Those Fraser Valley punks wrecked our city. It certainly wasn't us, that's for sure...
Blame it on Langley or Surrey because they are so far away.
Just a Skytrain away, at time of printing.

I also work 12 hours a day, lighting, for films and television shows. This can take away from the artist and the writer. The writer needs discipline more than all the others because it is the thing that seems so much like work. And it is. You mine your own head for words.

It is hard to market anything you do, because you are really just offering yourself as a commodity, or what you make as a product.
How do you look at your own creations and discern the cost? What is the cost? Time? Materials? Surely, not that, considering that all the wood and paint is scrap.
For a guy that is at work 65 hours a week, I guess time could be considered a real commodity.

I do know that to be selling a few paintings that are the culmination of years of practice and refinement of skills is an experience that is fulfilling. But not nearly as fulfilling as making the painting itself. In fact, I am sad when they go.

I also have news fatigue. I cannot face the daily barrage all the time, I have to withdraw a bit, listen to a bit of Boards of Canada on the way to work, instead of the CBC news. It's good to know what is happening but not at the expense of my well being.
The world is a vampire and it will suck you dry if you let it.
There seems to be many chirping fools out there, of late and they are getting all the airplay.
We all choose tyranny over anarchy
Which is the way of things
But not in the way that everybody sees it.

To make art...
is freedom