May 3, 2014

derivative post 1.

Today's post here May 3, 2014, is a starting point for 1 of 100 tables for 1,000,000 or


 art derivative slip project. 

The art work in progress for the slips is documented on inkclay.

10 x 10 = 100 boxes. (divided into 4, 5 x 5 tables per post) 

100 table boxes x 100 bundles of art derivative slips = 10,000. 

10,000 x 100 table posts = 1,000,000. 

As of Nov. 1, 2013 I had signed and cut 7,185 art derivative slips.

By Jan. 19, 2014 I had stopped signing and numbering the art derivative slips, but painted and cut down most of the art, easily more than 10k worth of slips.

At this date I do not know how far I will get to completing this piece, therefore thought this project suitable to be posted on the 'Ode to impossible blog'. 

Also it is my intention to publish my writing elsewhere as I no longer view the task of novel writing as "impossible". 




table 6/400
numbered art derivative slips starting at 600,000.  
stack 600,000 — 601,000. ( minus slip 600,002 )
 600,000 — 600,100 (minus 600,002.)
600,101 — 600,200.
600,201 — 600,300.
600,301 — 600,400.
 600,401 — 600,500.
600,501 — 600,600.
600,601 — 600,700.
600,701 — 600,800.
600,801 — 600,900.
600,901 — 601,000.
601,001 — 601,100.
601,101 — 601,200.
601,201 — 601,300.
601,301 — 601,400.
601,401 — 601,500.
601,501 — 601,600.
601,601 — 601,700.
601,701— 601,800.
601,801 —601,900.





May 4, 2013

Second day in May - story of the snack defender



The story of the snack defender

The snack defender is just one of my favorite’s in the defender series. The defender art works are totems of our immune system. Not literal realistic macro-giant sculptures of white blood cells, platelets, macrophages etc... but cartoon symbols about the war they fight for our survival.  

Why the focus of my art is on these invisible to the naked eye, bits of us, is a long story. It begins with an important memory. The small child that was me toddled into the kitchen. The floor a tangle of scampering clicking 8 legged creatures bigger than I was. Father had proudly brought home a pile of live giant king crabs. Mother is screaming, honestly freaked out about how to approach these creatures and get them into a pot.

Later, still before I could read I studied the illustrations in my parents medical text books. I flipped past the people, but what interested me most were the layers of diagrams about how the systems in our insides worked. But, strangely even then I took to drawing dots. While doing so, drawing dots for hours, my thoughts were not about ink or drawing something realistic with the dots, instead I was absorbed by how the world is made up of so many tiny pieces, like sand, seeds, ants etc...

Decades later, grown up and married, I dreamt of an army of strange crabs my subconscious had taken from that important childhood memory. They were fighting a battle across complicated rolling canyons with columns, and vein patterns. Wave after wave cleaning away disorderly grey pink fungus-like growths and tiny dark chaotic dust. At that time, I thought, it was what the army did. I thought at first a literal interpretation, cancer being the Greek word for crab. But, that concept felt false, they were a defending army, and then proven false a year later at 24, I had a biopsy of a benign fibrous growth. Two years after that, and many more complicated dreams I had a malignant tumor removed. While I was waiting for them to cut it out I felt helpless, that all I could do was pray and meditate on that army of white blood cells, my immune system. All this in retrospect, I think about how the tumor was cut off from it’s food supply, it was partly necrotic, killed by the army even before it was surgically cut out of me and the cancer did not spread.

Both prayer and science had an answer. Another decade of my life went by, science had studied many families with the same genetic deletion as the one I’d inherited from my Grandparents in the cancer cluster farming valley. According to a European study of many people with our specific exact deletion 3819del5 had no symptoms at all and those who grew cancer, even if they grew it repeatedly and bilaterally, didn’t die of cancer because it didn’t spread. Is it my fate as one living organism in a polluted world, that I was given this particular deletion instead of another defenseless more deadly mutation? Or is it mercy and an answer to prayer?

The defenders are about the post industrial world. From the beginning of modern food cultivation everyone in farming valleys is being exposed to pesticides and chemical fertilizers. Then almost everything we eat is wrapped in plastic, leaching more chemicals and sometimes even served in P6 styrofoam. The defender series are giant macro-cartoon totems, a symbolic reminder of the microscopic army of our immune system, warriors defending our survival all the days we are alive.






This story was originally drafted for the Story a day in May writing challenge. Find out more at StoryAday.org or via @StoryADayMay on twitter.

May 1, 2013

don't believe in writer's block

“ How best to shift out of this practical state of mind ? ” asked the scribbler staring at the blank page. There was a notebook beside her right elbow, and a box with a couple hundred thousand words of a draft on the table directly in front of her, but she felt uneasy, knowing when she started she’d to be swept away by the swift current that is writing fiction. They say, it’s only words, but she’d been there before, swam out from shore, nearly drowned, alone, in the mindless depths of the ocean of thoughts and ideas that is a story.

100 word story, also called a drabble. 

Story 1. for a story a day in May.


January 26, 2013

This blog / post left intentionally blank.

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(to be continued) 

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.... don't know what yet. But, something. Later. 

P.s. See: Note about 2011 link on left hand side of page
or other fiction blogs if you are looking for something to read.

thanks,
UBD 01-2013