My sincerest, most heart-felt gratitude.

To everyone that has talked to me recently: thanks. I have seen so much care, love, and support. As with everything, being filled with love only replicates itself, and I feel an easiness about me. Expect another post tomorrow, and resumed blogging next week.

Love,

Cody

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Blogging will be light

Although still in its infancy, this blog will remain a little short this week: My dear grandma passed away this weekend. She was 85 - a good, long life. I hope we can all be so lucky to be with people we love and care for, throughout our lives. Bless you all.

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My Life as a Nude Art Model (Dada I) - Part 2

..continued from here

Having turned my application early on a Tuesday afternoon, I went back to my business. I wasn't sure when they would call. Did they want to talk to the references? Would they tell me if I was accepted, or only if I was needed? The answer came in a message on my voice-mail.

They needed more for the next day! They had a sudden cancelation, and called me as a replacement. I didn't think it would be that fast! I was hoping I could have some "prep" time, so I could make sure I was comfortable with everything. Luckily, this ended up being the case: they had found another replacement, and I was slated for the next week.

The class was in the morning, so it would most likely be the first thing I did that day. I had asked the secretary about what to bring (a robe, if I suddenly needed to leave the room), and how long the poses were (20 min. maximum - but I must be prepared to return to poses). I was pretty well-prepared.

I didn't sleep much the night before the class. For the entire week, my friends had been pushing small doubts in my mind; possible "Doomsday" scenarios. Perhaps I should go back to a reclusive, income-less life. I move harspichords, why do I need to do anything else?

My dignity/face ended up winning out; I certainly wouldn't want to cancel at the last second. Still, lingering doubts, although fading away with the sun, still remained in my head. They were there when I walked down to the workshop. My timing got me there 20 minutes early (I always miscalculate distance), so I sat down and read a brochure. Doubts in my head. With about 7 minutes to go (you're supposed to be in the classroom 5 minutes before), I go change into my robe. I walk by an exit. "This is the last chance." I tell myself. But I'm also determined to try something new.

I meet the teacher, a woman in her late 20's. She has a wedding ring, and tells me she wants to start with short poses, about 2-3 minutes. Unfortunately, I have to decide them (I had known about this up-front, and I had promised myself I would figure out some poses beforehand, but procrastination beat me to it). There's a tall podium in front of several easels. Then the students walk in.

There are three today: two men, and one women. They are all retired, and seem really nice. They say hi, and pull out paper and charcoal.

I get on the podium, and take off my robe...then nothing. Everyone continues what they're doing, adjusting their easels, chatting with one another. I stretch my arms and legs, because 20 minute poses doeesn't seem like it would be fun if there was tension.

Over the course of three hours, I did many different poses. I was given two breaks, when I put the robe on and talked with the students and teacher. They found it neat that I was a musician, and a guy even mentioned the movie Brassed Off ("It's a Bloody Euphonium!"). The experience overall was very interesting; I found my self-esteem had improved (I overheard the woman tell the teacher "He's such a good model."), and I was able to work through music in my head (which is amazing if you aren't allowed to move your fingers). After the class, I picked up my money, and headed back to school.


Finding that I enjoyed modeling (provided it was drawing, not photography), I figured I should work to improve my body; not in a plastic-surgery-kind-of-way, but more along the lines of taking care of my skin, eating healthy food, exercising, and having a peace of mind. In an environment of immense self-criticism, perhaps contributing to art could be the greatest serenity.

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My Life as a Nude Art Model (Dada I) - Part 1

After scanning the print and the web for two months, I finally encountered a job prospect that I may actually qualify for:

MODELS THE CREATIVE Workshop, art school of the Memorial Art Gallery, seeks models for figure sculpture and figure drawing/painting classes. Experience preferred. Reliability required. Our pay is competitive and the working atmosphere is friendly. Must be 21. Call xxxxxx at the Creative Workshop, xxx-xxxx ext. xxxx.

I had seen many different ads for modeling, but really hadn't given them much consideration. Usually they were "Come to my apartment and model nude. I can't pay you, but you can keep some prints." That didn't sound too appealing.

However, this seemed much more reasonable. I had been to MAG before, it was part of the University, so I knew it was okay. I wasn't too familiar with the program, but I could always ask any questions/concerns.

I made the call, and a couple days later, the application arrived in the mail. I just looked at it. Everything seemed basic: Name, Address, Phone Number. I quickly filled as much of it as possible, waiting on only four sections: References, Prior Experience, Reason for Modeling, and Restrictions (Nude or Clothed).

To tackle references, I went to my current employer, and a past employer. When they inquired as to the job, and told them, they didn't bat an eye. I would have at least expected smirk, raised eyebrow, any other sign that this was different than what they might have expected. But nothing.

Prior Experience: Simply put, I had none. Feeling this was a poor answer, I mentioned my four years of marching band, which gave me the ability to stand still for long periods of time. Yeah, that was the actual answer.

Restrictions: On the form, it mentioned that the majority of the classes were nude, meaning if I wanted any chance at all to model, I should probably check it off. After some deliberation, both were checked.

Reason for Modeling: another one I may have to fudge. I really just needed a job. This seemed like the best one for my skills (I can stand still pretty well). I wrote that I was comfortable with my body, and I wanted to contribute to the Art World. Melville's Moby Dick came in my mind (no jokes), as Ishmael describes his want for working on a boat:

I do not mean to have it inferred that I ever go to sea as a passenger. For to go as a passenger you must needs have a purse, and a purse is but a rag unless you have something in it. Besides, passengers get sea-sick- grow quarrelsome- don't sleep of nights- do not enjoy themselves much, as a general thing;- no, I never go as a passenger; nor, though I am something of a salt, do I ever go to sea as a Commodore, or a Captain, or a Cook. I abandon the glory and distinction of such offices to those who like them. For my part, I abominate all honorable respectable toils, trials, and tribulations of every kind whatsoever. It is quite as much as I can do to take care of myself, without taking care of ships, barques, brigs, schooners, and what not.

Could this possibly be the case? Although I'm sure some will be skeptical, I can say this had been considered, weighed, and found to be true. Understanding that our arts and senses shouldn't be segmented, broken away from each other. Like Ishmael, I will relenquish my glory in teaching, my purse in viewing art (or, in this instance, creating it), and afford my self the opportunity to be a humble model.

Link of the Week (Link ii)

Bitter Films is the proud recipient of LotW. They must be happy.

I was introduced to Bitter Film my freshman year, when a friend said, "You really have to see this cartoon!" Nominated for an Oscar(!), Rejected was by far the strangest thing I had ever seen (up until then). A commentary on the basic struggle of the modern artist, whether to create meaningful art or feed himself, Rejected is a series of short "commercials" commissioned by fictitious companies. They range from the absurd (yet strangely sublime) to disgusting (yet strangely...disgusting). Anyone who is familiar with "My Spoon is too Big" is sure to have seen this 9-minute cartoon. The perverse nature of the film haunted me for two years, as I struggled to find it again online.

Recently, I did! As well as the other Don Hertzfeldt shorts: Ah, L'amour!, Genre, Billy's Balloon, and the touching Lily and Jim. The most recent film, The Meaning of Life, is unlikely to be found online yet, and the current film, Everything Will Be Okay is still in production.

How is Hertzfeldt intriguing? Do his stick figures depict as much emotion as a well-seasoned Shakespearean actor? Maybe his coloring has an effect. For me, it is the fact that every frame is hand-drawn. This can give his characters a waviness that is at times awkward, other times implicit, and other times explicit.

Be sure to click the crazy cat, you will find so much that makes so little sense. And definitely check out his cartoons; if you like them, order a DVD (it will be released in a couple months), if not, you will probably be scarred for a very long time (I suppose that should also serve as a warning).

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(W)holistic (Dada I,v)

New Health Digest is:

A free magazine in Rochester.

Yet one more way to cleanse the body of any stresses after's a day's work.

Another Link in Cody's Dada-madness! (consider the symbolic imagery of the link - and possible metaphors)

Something that would be of no use to people outside of Western New York

Something that would be of much use to people everywhere

Take your pick. Pick your Poison. Poison...Finishing this post.

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My Sincere Apologies (Dada I,iv)

I will be up late finishing a couple hills of work. Because of this, I won't be able to comment on the links today (at least not as much as I would prefer). You're all adults, though; Another stage of my Dada-sense is a click away. Be sure to explore, and let me know about anything else you find.

I say Dada-sense, and I will secondly say "Scrub you're face, not your web-place!". Newspapers will often edit and change articles/photos of their online information (thus, Scrubbing), which can aggrevate people who seek consistent, correct columns. As a blogge, you can rest assured I will not scrub my website; if I don't take proper care of it initially, then it will turn into a smoldering disgusting heap of misinformation; but then that will be what it is.

Secondly, Dada-sense will be the titles of earlier, and later posts. Just nod your head (but don't fall asleep), and wait for everything to be revealed eventually. Gosh, am I that much like Wagner?

Proper exercise: Just do it. Walk. Bike. Move Harpsichords.

Happy Reading

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Linkophile?

Today's you're lucky day! There are three links pertinent to today's discussion. Here, Here, and Here . In the third case, it's the message, not the product.

My dance class, which doesn't really incorporate dance (topic for a later discussion) forced me to say one day: You are what you eat. It's not uttered often these days, as adulthood brings forth many jokes that shouldn't fall on tender ears. However, the more I learned about GMO's and pesticides and growth hormones, the more I realized, "Holy Crap! I am what I eat! In the most literal sense!" More than any discussion of being and existence, this is the eternal truth. People must be living longer because our foods have so many preservatives. People must be stronger because our meat has growth hormones injected in it. People must be funnier because their food has so much corn in it. (That last one was uncalled for...sorry).

Wow...that's a lot of links. I will have slow down before I go overboard. Have a nice day, and happy reading.

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You're not getting off that easy...

Although the original intent was one-blog-a-night, I imagine various changes will be met and made as my blogophileness increases. For those of you that know me, I have a plan; and that can never be good. Most of my ideas die between initial thought and initial execution (a period lasting about ca. 6 months); this would be to your advantage. Unfortunately, THIS idea is like a scrape after an accident; it's already there, in the process. Don't say I didn't forwarn you about the curb, because it's absolutely true.

Provided that, this needs no explanation. Watch it, enjoy it...try to find out what's in my head.

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Link of the Week (A bit Early)

I was going to wait until Friday to begin the "Link of the week series", which would focus on recently discovered websites that managed to hold my attention for that period. However, I am presenting this link now (don't worry; there will be another on Friday) because I was completely astonished. Completely Overblown. The artist's ability to bridge and juxtapose two worlds is extremely impressive. A more amazing feat is this is his FIRST DOCUMENTARY, and based on the clips and trailer, it manages to sock as good a punch as Michael Moore, except without all the silly add-ons.

Now that you're all dripping in suspese and anticipation, I bring the 1st link of the week: Mardi Gras, Made in China

David Redmon, the director, follows the path of Mardi Gras beads as they travel from a sweatshop in China (where workers, mostly women, make about $2/day), complete with sex-segregated dormitories, to New Orleans, where wanton excess and gluttony pervade Bourbon Street. Redmon manages to show the cultural and economic ramifications of globalization.

The DVD will be released after it runs in theatres (it opens in New York on Friday). If you have a chance to see it on its tour, wonderful; if not, it's only $25.

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The First Question

When do you floss? I imagine a great number of people floss in the morning; it's what we've been told. However, seeing how I have great difficulty accepting anything at face value (I originally didn't believe my brother's claims of Waldo's enemy, Odlaw; or the existence of Avenue Q), I have decided to find out why we aren't allowed to floss before we go to bed.

Here is my preliminary logic:
Most of us sleep for 6-8 hours (some 3, some 12); if we floss in the morning, we are removing junk (eww) that has schemed and covertly attacked our teeth while we lie dormant. We never new!

However, if we floss before we go to bed, said junk is removed, and our teeth can rest easily knowing the dark forces of plaque are kept at bay.

In honor of today's post: I have linked to the dentalgentlecare page of Flossing. Although they don't specify a specific time, they remind us to have a routine. Just be sure your flossing won't turn into a mindless exercise, day in and day out, with a lost sense of purpose and soul. Take care of your teeth, and your spirit won't gnaw at you.

Have a nice night.

Another to make three...sigh...

Well, it didn't last long. In addition, I can create a publicly accessible (and therefore personally responsible) to-do list. Expect to see it pop up in the next couple days. Be sure to chastise me if I'm not on the ball.

Why this blog is here

Why is this blog here? I knew I would eventually succomb to the power of the blog (I certainly read enough of them). My friends have suffered similar fates with Harry Potter and modern music. Fate.

Communication might be another positive quality of a blog. So often I find myself the friendly guy at a party, who refuses to submerge into the risky topics of politics and religion. If you don't like my writing style, check back in awhile. I'm aiming for improvement.

Great things come in three's, so I will end it here. Just on the safe side.