9 – A StEAmPUnk Movie for the rest of us
at last
my love is here to stay.
It is in punks, the steam variety. And one does not become punked, steampunk is not a verb, it is art. A form, a variety so intensely profound and simplistic in its form — the virtual embodiment of Fluxus, the nexus of steampunk is the sheer futility of international influence to condense form into l punditry. Pendantic promise.
More forthcoming, perhaps fifth, soon upon this knowledge of 9.
Possible articles for BlogCritics
Years ago, I downloaded and saved the following “How To Write a Book Review” and perhaps should share it with my readers. Reminding myself of the finer points of critical analysis is always in vogue. If I can’t talk to me, well… who else will listen? The following quote is from a long forgotten website but I see the Los Angeles Valley Library has almost the exact same article published today online.
A book review is a description, critical analysis, and an evaluation on the quality, meaning, and significance of a book, not a retelling. It should focus on the book’s purpose, content, and authority. A critical book review is not a book report or a summary. It is a reaction paper in which strengths and weaknesses of the material are analyzed. It should include a statement of what the author has tried to do, evaluates how well (in the opinion of the reviewer) the author has succeeded, and presents evidence to support this evaluation.
There is no right way to write a book review. Book reviews are highly personal and reflect the opinions of the reviewer. A review can be as short as 50-100 words, or as long as 1500 words, depending on the purpose of the review.
Books on hand for possible inclusion in reviews/articles forthcoming on BlogCritics:
the possibility of everything, a memoir by Hope Edelman. Ballantine Books.
Diary of a Witness by Catherine Ryan Hyde. Knopf Delacorte Dell.
slumgirl dreaming, Rubina’s Journey to the Stars by Rubina Ali. Randomhouse Teens.
(re)cycler by Lauren McLaughlin. Random House.
Ordered:
The Shadow Out of Time, H. P. Lovecraft Dark Adventure Radio Theater. DVD.
The Ister. DVD.
My New Mac, Snow Leopard Edition
My first review wasn’t much to write home about… I didn’t read the submission process instructions carefully enough, got in a slapdash hurry to “post within 24 hours”, but hey… it’s been a while. One thing readers seem to expect from a book review is a summary. Unfortunately, that ain’t in the cards when I write.
I’m in the midst of Culture of Complaint, The Fraying of America by Robert Hughes. Written in 1993, it’s even more true in 2009 than then. Amazing insight but expected same from author of The Fatal Shore. Also picked up a copy of the Andy Warhol Diairies, edited by Pat Hackett while at the little lyeberry here in town. Last week’s visit to the Warhol Museum sparked an interest, albeit a rather shabby one.
BlogCritics and I’m back in the saddle again!
It’s been far too long between reviews. While assemblage art and 3D fun take up my studio time, it’s into the book fray I must once again venture. After three months of searching for a venue for my genius – I landed upon an opportunity at BlogCritics.org. Grabbed that puppy up by the scruff of the neck and slammed a quick write online as soon as I got my acceptance email from Eric Olsen. See… it’s karma. Having son-in-law Olsen and all them grandbabes as little Olsens running around, as well as visiting my favorite crusty Norwegian this very day, I knew Eric and The Assemblagist were headed for a fruitful union.
Here it is. A link to my virgin post on BlogCritics. Please take a moment to validate my existence by reading or even by commenting. Thanks.
A review of Joseph Finder’s newest book, Vanished on BlogCritics.
Facebook mesmerizes me and there I stay for too long in the a.m.’s. Now it’s time to be productive, as previously stated. When I received Joseph Finder’s latest novel, the thriller “Vanished”, it catapulted me back into writing reviews. Thanks, Joe, for sending me a copy hot off the presses. You jump started my favorite pasttime, reading and writing about what I am reading.
The format for entering data to BlogCritics.org is a bit tricky. This first article lacks the teaser, I suppose it was deleted during my many fubarrs when I incorrectly saved my writing. I’m way too old to make the kind of amateur mistakes happening today. First off, I wrote the review in the damn website window, not in OpenOffice with a copy/paste finesse. Oh no, I wrote it online and lost it twice. Losing my words did not make them better the third time around. By then I was just pissed off and determined to post anything… so look for vast improvement in my next article.
Artist Opportunity
REQUEST FOR QUALIFICATIONS
Fifth and Walnut Streets Parking Garage Percent for Art Project
Columbia, Missouri
Open to Artists Residing in the United States
Budget: $110,000
Deadline: 10/1/09
The City of Columbia, Missouri, invites artists to apply for a public art project at the planned Fifth and Walnut Streets Parking Garage. The City seeks an artist or artist team to create new site-specific, original, public artwork(s) for the garage. Works in a variety of durable media and forms will be considered. The project is a component of Columbia’s Percent for Art Program, established in 1997, and is being implemented by the city’s Office of Cultural Affairs (OCA). Artists should submit qualifications only, not a design proposal.
The budget for the site-specific public art at the Fifth and Walnut Parking Garage project has been established at $110,000. The amount must include all artist fees, materials, fabrication, shipping, installation, etc. To be eligible to apply, artists must reside legally in the United States.
Applications must be submitted electronically by October 1 via CaFE (Call for Entry) at www.CallForEntry.org. There is no charge to apply and use of the CaFE site is free. Applicants need only register at the site.
To view a complete project prospectus or to apply for the Fifth and Walnut Parking Garage project visit. www.callforentry.org/festivals_unique_info.php?ID=384
More information is also available on the City of Columbia’s Office of Cultural Affairs website at: www.GoColumbiaMo.com/Arts/
MarieNauHunter,Manager
City of Columbia Office of Cultural Affairs
P.O.Box6015
Columbia,MO 65205
573-874-7512phone
573-874-7681fax
mnh@GoColumbiaMo.com
www.GoColumbiaMo.com (GoWord search: GoArts)
Andy Warhol Museum and a Muse When I See ‘em
Fluxus Thoughts on my recent visit to the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh:
When events occur during one’s consciousness, said occurrences become commonplace, the every day background influence of the every day. I suspect 9/11 will become such a phenomenon.
Take World War II, for example. To my parents, the greatest generation, the War defined the remaining decades of their lives. A lurid past experience that both tainted and enhanced every event. War never leaves. This current set of wars, the Iraq and Afghanistan conflicts wherein the term “war” is often mis-used yet omnipresent, affects us all yet the percentage of families who perceive direct influence is misconstrued.
This was, then, the construct upon paying the fee and wandering free throughout the Andy Warhol Museum. Oddly, try typing Warhol… the brain wants my fingers to type Warhold. That silly “d” keeps popping up requiring either a macro-based editing function or careful re-read.
Back to the Warhol-esque memorial ideas. As a child of the 50s and 60s, the influence is daily. The soup cans, the Heinz catsup boxes represented the mundane every day of art. The were definitely no observed by a 1st – 6th grader as astute, life-changing, or even radical. These Warhol contributions merely “were” “are” the “is happening” of the decade. The same idea occurs with Woodstockian references or 1968 Democratic Convention cruelty. So when recently I viewed the Warhol, it became clear. The insidious background that was “his” art did so influence us.
And the commercial Warhol differs so very greatly from the artistic Warhol. There appear to be a plethora of sides to this man. Gentle dissidence, quiet confidence compounded by a screaming lack of self-esteem. No direct knowledge of self-worth. Sadly mistaken, he was, of course, influential and yet diseased. His talent for making money seemed to confuse his true artistic bent.
I am aware of the good-time-boy Warhol, the Marilyn Monroe party acquisitions. And the dark of Warhol with his death photos. Compelling, the woman who apparently leapt from a building, falling smashdab onto the roof of a car. She wore white gloves, much as I was required to do for church, in 1963, we all wore our white gloves as proud Presbyterians which we became with the appalling lack of Unitarian obfuscation in Fort Smith, Arkansas in the 1960s. Later Episcopalians upon the death of Carol Ann Cross when I became a 7th grader… we followed the social normalcy of the day. Pleated plaid skirt, knee-high socks, red blazer, proud proud blazer, white oxford shirt. Every Sunday. Repeated, like the Nicene Creed, my outfit. My parents. My brother.
So Warhol did make me what I became. Did influence my being. Without consciousness, he became what was convoluted and as such, did make my Artistic Knowledge one of Fluxus and relevance.
My irrelevant self superimposed upon the monumental undertaking of viability and relativity. Dying and living, dancing with Shaker precision, loose and unfree. Fettered by expectations and bound by monetary exegesis. Ephemera becomes me as it did Warhol. Cookie jars. Knickknacks, frippery unfounded. I could not have loved that man, but appreciate him, like the faux-homemade cupcakes sold in his basement amid pipes and wires and ducts of air.
Yes, I drank from a bottle of water just outside the fourth floor elevator. Thusly chastised, I swallowed my pills dry and choked on Warhol.