Modest Proposal Comix Artblitz Fundraiser

Brandon Huigens is one of my favorite artists (and my very favorite person). After spending a week in the hospital for kidney problems, he lost his new job and is facing a very large hospital bill and numerous upcoming doctor's appointments. He makes wonderful comics and is an incredibly talented writer, and we're trying to get by while trying to manage this whole health ordeal. If you want to see Brandon's original comics, you can go to .

If you want to help Brandon during this difficult time (OR you hate helping and you just like his art), please consider purchasing his work.

-We're currently taking pre-orders for one-of-a-kind Fruits the Cat t-shirts (which come standard in brown or cream, but if you have a color preference we'll try our best to accommodate), which are $12 for a comic of your choice or $10 for Fruits' pick (he'll make sure to pick a good one).

-You can purchase a copy of Brandon's new mini-comic, "All Yellow Dinner", for $2 (including shipping and handling, if you're not in Phoenix)

-You can purchase some of Brandon's original art pictured below.

For questions, to participate or donate, e-mail livingmorganisms@yahoo.com or brandon.huigens@gmail.com.

***We'll have all of the above on fifth street tonight (May 6, 2011) at First Friday in Downtown Phoenix! If you're on Twitter, send a tweet to @saynomorgan and tell us where to find you, send us an e-mail (thanks, smartphone notifications!) and we'll find you, or keep a look out for the loud redhead with the trike (that's me!)***

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To Say Thank You.

Climbing Uphill.

I'm getting rid of all my work to start on some new projects, and also work to help with my dad's bills (if you'd like to know more about that, please direct yourself to the previous post, "Them's the Breaks, Kid.") All work is on a name-your-own prices basis. Seriously. $5? $500? It's yours. If you have any questions about any of the work (dimensions, for example), @ me on twitter at @saynomorgan or shoot me an e-mail at: saynomorgan[at]gmail[dot]com.

As previously mentioned, a portion of the proceeds from all of my art sales in 2010 will be donated to Doctors Without Borders, Heifer International, and Boys Town National. If you have a specific charity you'd like your portion to go instead, let me know. Thanks, everyone.


A.


B. SOLD.

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D. SOLD.

E. SOLD.

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G. SOLD.

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K. SOLD.

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P. SOLD.

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R. SOLD.

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T. SOLD.

Them's the Breaks, Kid.

My dad is...sick. He's always suffered from multiple mental and physical ailments, and he doesn't have a lot.

He's my world and he drives me nuts and challenges me to be a better artist and person, and I can't imagine my life without him. On Thursday, he had a lacuner stroke (which basically means that there are seven or eight small holes in his brain that are leaking fluid into his brain), and then another on Friday morning. He had and emergency quadruple bypass in May of 2009, and as I write this, they are putting a balloon in his heart in order to try and salvage his organs. Unfortunately, I'm not a doctor and I don't know exactly what all of this means, but I've been told by the doctor that at this point, he'll have some time left, but not much.

I love my dad. I have memories (not as many as I'd like, but I've got them). My little brother's ten. His life's just starting out. He's not going to get to look out into the stadium and see my dad's face when he plays his first football game. That fucking sucks more than anything, but it's true and it breaks my heart.

The Dark I Know Well

I don't have much to say lately. Rather, I don't have much that I care to say.

I haven't really left the house much because I've been sick. Looking forward to tomorrow's doctor's appointment; hoping some sort of functional resolution will be achieved.

Regardless, life is good and unexpected and I'm trying not to base my expectations and happiness on the actions (or potential inactions) of others. All I will say about it is that I'm enjoying what's happening and I hope that it continues.

As much as it scares me to say this, I've been reconsidering the idea of finishing my degree in state. I've spent so long wanting to get out, that the very notion that I would be better off in Arizona is...disconcerting, to say the least. Now that I'm no longer tied to Phoenix, I'm seeing all of the amazing things Phoenix has to offer. Especially in terms of a career, I think it might actually be feasible to market my art and continue to grow as an artist (a concept so foreign to me in my anti-Phoenix daze). I will, however, still continue with the application process, but I suppose it's comforting to know that I have options (that I would be happy with, no less).

Working on some really...fun work for next month. There's something just plain delightful to me about utilizing kid's art supplies to make fine art. The bits and pieces I've finished thus far are turning out quite nicely.

Don't Do Sadness

I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder. My entire life, I'd always felt this strange, unplaceable restlessness. I remember being about seven or eight and telling my mother "I feel like I'm waiting for something, but I don't know what it is. Sometimes life's just...too much." She nodded and went about her business, so I assumed that EVERYONE must feel this way all the time. It wasn't until mid-high school when I found out that wasn't the case.

Generally, I'm able to manage it and suffer through things that cause me anxiety. Recently, though, it's gotten to be too much and it's unfortunate that people are unable to really understand when I try to explain exactly what's going on. My hands get clammy, my face gets hot and I have insane nausea; my chest tightens and breathing becomes a struggle and in the midst of a panic attack, I honestly feel like I might die if I don't escape. For me, it's a feeling rooted in the unfamiliar. If I don't know exactly what's going to happen or if I feel trapped, an attack is much more likely. Sometimes, though, even comfortable and mundane situations are panic-inducing. The problem with anxiety is that there is no finite trigger. It's simply a matter of "is the stress of living going to get to me today?"

Imagine you have to carry a ten pound weight, only you can only use your shoulders. Easy enough, right? That ten pound weight is your job, let's say. Okay, now add another for every person in your family. And another for each one of your goals, and another for every regret. Getting heavy yet? Okay, add one for every bill you have and every social engagement you have for the next three months. And three more, just for the sake of it. Wait, I forgot something. Every time you try to take off a weight, some asshole's going to come by and add two more. Just because he's a dick.

At some point, you're going to be so heavy that you have to do something, anything to get out. Cue panic attack.

Being an outgoing person with agoraphobia is strange. My extroversion comes from an overwhelming desire to compensate for the fact that I'm so anxious all the time. Some days, weeks, even months are fine, but when I'm going through a bout of anxiety, it's crippling and I literally have to mentally prepare myself for hours just to leave the house. It's having negative emotional, mental, and physical effects on me, to the point where I miss important events in my loved ones (and my own) lives, I always have this uneasiness and nausea in the back of my throat, I make myself physically ill at least twice a month (as I am right now), and my shoulders and back are in a constant ache from carrying this invisible weight on my shoulders all day.

Friday, I finally bought health insurance after six years of being uninsured. As an adult, I've recused any adolescent notions I had about medication as a means of escape. I just want to be able to do the things that are important to me. I don't want to continue missing out on opportunities.

Is a Conjunction

A few days ago, I had this strange, heavy feeling on my shoulders. I couldn't shake it, this weight. Having experienced more than my fair share of anxiety in my twenty-four years, I couldn't understand this particular breed of restless loneliness.

And then it hit me. Fun.

I was no longer affording myself the opportunity to have fun. Fun. It was that simple. I made a promise to myself that there would be nothing but good times from here on out, and I'm holding myself to it. Just because I'm buckling down and focusing on school and my career doesn't mean I have to sacrifice my emotional well being. Spending time with Xchel, Shane, and Clif has been wonderful and refreshing and I hope it continues. I'm enjoying the company that I keep and working hard not to worry too much and overanalyze things. It's been nice, the past few days, to be able to reflect on the day and declare it a good one.

I've confirmed participation in another show for October, bringing the total to 4. In terms of the goal I set back in July (12 shows before the end of 2010), this brings the total to 9. Whether I meet my goal or not, I'm really proud of the work I've done recently. I can wholeheartedly say that I truly put myself into this work. I'm so happy about that.

Life's not so hard. It's time to cheer up.

Yellow Flowers Never Took My Breath Away

It's hard to let go of someone you love. Damn near impossible.

I think about this daily. The moments with him that were amazing and life affirming, the moments that made me feel like I was repeatedly running head first into a wall and I wonder where things went so wrong. Two people who loved each other, but were so damaged they couldn't have faith in one another? There's almost no way anything healthy could come from that. We spent years running to and away from each other, and now after he's run away from Phoenix, I'm leaving knowing that no matter where I go and what I do, he'll always be in my heart. The notion (no matter how silly it might be) that someday things might work out will always be in the back of my mind. He was my first love, and I thank him for that. He taught me to love fearlessly, which is something I never had the courage to do with him. While the mistakes I made are painful and wear heavy on my soul, he taught me how not to make those same mistakes again. And I never will.

Maybe it's the unwittingly hopeful part of me, but I firmly believe that we'll get another chance someday. And when that day comes, I promise to grab the life I desire with both hands. You gave me that courage.

This is No Great Illusion

School started about two weeks ago. Honestly? I was fucking terrified. I haven't been in school for almost four years, so a thousand questions and concerns were running through my mind. Would my instructors like me? Would there be too much homework? Can I even still write a paper? How embarrassing, I thought, would it be to fail a class I've already gotten an A in?

Alas, I seem to be doing well. Because my courses are self-paced, I'm at least a good week ahead on all of my assignments (three weeks in three of my courses, rather.)

This semester, I'm taking Art History: Prehistoric Through Gothic, Art History: Renaissance Through Contemporary, History of Western Civ 1865 to Present, and Universal Themes of Humanity. I'm really enjoying what I'm learning so far. The difference this time around is that I'm really seeing the value in the education I'm getting and I'm grateful to have this opportunity to go back to school. Around the time that I dropped out, I seemed to be getting caught in the common trap of "Oh, I'm on my own now...let's eat ice cream for breakfast and build forts!"

Don't get me wrong, I love a good couch-cushion fort, but having a second chance to get my degree is amazing and I'm taking care to ensure that no amount of frivolity distracts me from that. I don't want to fuck it up this time.

Sidenote: maybe it's the teacher's pet in me, but when I received feedback on my first HUM201 paper, I got such an obnoxious twinge of excitement when the instructor told me I did a fantastic job and she was super impressed with my ideas and execution. Nerd moment over, let's move on.

This semester is very important. When I left school, my record was in shambles. My GPA dropped to a pathetic 2.6. 2.6? FUCKING SRSLY? That's just depressing. That being said, however, if I am able to secure a 4.0 this semester, and a 3.0 next semester, my GPA will be prepared to a much more reasonable standard. If this happens, I'll feel much more comfortable in my collegiate pursuits because I won't feel like I'm walking around with a giant "I'm a Stupid Loser!" sandwich board anymore.

In other school news: I've started compiling all of the individual documents requied for my applications. It's...scary. But SO amazing.

In non school news: one of my shows is listed on the front page of CenPho.com. Holy. cow. I've never gotten this kind of exposure before. It's such a jarring experience to go from being a marginally known character who paints in the district to being regarded as a legitimate and respected artist in Phoenix as a whole. It's really a humbling experience to receive acclaim from people I admire and respect just doing what I love to do. It's so...surreal. I feel very lucky.

Lots of Bodies

In my journey to achieve my personal, creative, and professional aspirations, I've gained a lot along the way. I've learned so much about myself and it's been really rewarding. That being said, I've managed to lose a lot as well. Fears and flaws that I've found crippling and scary have started to fall away. While I'm proud of myself for what I have accomplished thus far and I hope to accomplish in the future, it's bittersweet to think about the people in my life who have become shallow memories in my life. Silly nostalgias are all I have left of these people.

One person in particular became one of my best friends in a very short time. When I was going through a difficult time personally, he was there, waiting to catch me. I guess I should have done a deeper analysis of him, noticing the inconsistencies in his demeanor. He explicitly stated disengaging from relationships with people when he knows he or they are going away. It should have been so much more apparent to me. He wants to be a superhero. He wants to be the knight in shining armor. Our friendship hit the rocks when I wouldn't let him play that role in my life.

Now that I've learned to stand on my own two feet, we no longer exist together as companions. I haven't seen him in months, and multiple texts go unanswered. Honestly, I can't help but be angry at the idea that I'll be cut out of people's lives because I'm forging my own path. This journey is the one I need to take, and I feel as though the notion of the convenience of companionship is insulting and demeaning. Regardless, though, I really miss him and hope that some sort of friendship can be regained before I leave. He was a good friend. Maybe I should write it off as just another asshole, but I just can't. Nor would I want to believe that people can really be that cold.

I just wish people would stop being so scared.

Just a Taste

Oh! Just got some nerdy exciting news. Go here to see some quick shots of my work in the background of Sonoran Living's interview with the very awesome Joseph Aguayo for Verde.

I Am a Bird Now

SO MUCH has transpired over the past couple weeks, this will probably be broken down into a couple different entries. In retrospect, I should have just updated as information made itself available. Live and learn. And probably do it again regardless of what was learned, to be honest.

As of right now, the shows are 95% done. SuTRA was finished hanging this afternoon, and Practical Art goes up tomorrow. I just have one more form to fill out for insurance purposes and send to Practical Art, which will be faxed over first thing in the morning (care of my favorite FedEx/Kinkos pal with the long, shaggy hair) and then the work will be hung tomorrow evening.

I faced a few issues with both venues over the past couple days (not on their respective parts, by any means.) Just the nature of the beast. There was some scheduling confusion with SuTRA that worked itself out, so there are no worries in that regard. I've had a cold for the past few days and have felt really out of it, so bringing the work to Practical Art felt really...odd. I don't quite know how to describe it. Almost like I didn't deserve to be showing there. Not to say that Kara and the other girl whose name I never learned made me feel unwelcome (quite the opposite, actually), but I was already feeling very anxious. Coupling that with the anxiety that comes with opening a show, I felt very uncomfortable.



I received a text from K regarding a couple issues with the show:

a. Typographical error on one of the title cards. SERIOUSLY? Typo? Me? Color me veryfuckingangry at myself. When asked how I'd like her to proceed, I was and am tempted just to have her write in the 'n' (which was left off the end of the word "known"), which I think is the simplest solution.

b. Unstable frame. The single biggest issue that seems to arise with using reclaimed wood as panels is their framing instability. Because the panels typically used to be parts of mass-produced furniture that I salvaged from alley dumpsters, they're often comprised of pressboard or other materials that tend to bend nails and cause me to shout "FUCK!" in the studio. The issue with this piece, however, is a little different. It was a piece of wood I found that already had two piece of wood attached to the top and bottom. I was really drawn to the sort-of shoddy assembly of the panel itself. K's concern was that she doesn't think it will hold up on the wall once it's hung. I told her, if needed, they can nail it directly to the wall. I also told her that, short of setting the work on fire, they can do anything they deem necessary to hang the show. I question whether that was unprofessional on my part (moreover, I'm worried that it came off rather terse), but I really do have a lot of faith in the venues.

These shows both mean a lot to me. Both represent a lot of who I am and where I come from. I'm very proud of the focus that I had in making these shows happen. ALL of the work at Practical Art (and more than 50% of the work at SuTRA) has never been shown and shows a lot of the things I've been experimenting with. The notion of going back to school has been a major factor in my desire to push myself as an artist. There are two sculptural pieces in the show, and I'm so proud of myself for being willing to venture from an avenue of strictly two-dimensional work. Outside of sculpture, there are a few pieces that exhibit strong conceptual themes, as well as work that I hope will blur the dividing line between two-dimensional and three-dimensional.

As far as I'm concerned, the shows are done. I have the opening receptions to contend with, which I'm just trying not to think about. This work is so important to me that I've just started to detach myself from it. I had my ideas and my concepts, I put my heart and soul (and quite a lot of blood, sweat, and tears) in to the work, and now I'm done. I'll do the performing monkey bit and play the character of an artist, but honestly and truly? I fucking hate opening receptions. Not all, of course. Just mine. They drain me and, at the end of the night, I always feel a lot of remorse over what I could have/would have/should have done.

Regardless of anything, I'm just really glad that my dad will get to see the show. While Nonn's been my super creative cheerleader, my dad's been sort of my partner-in-crime. He hooked me up with supplies and really gotten on my ass about getting the work done.

All in all, I'm excited for the receptions, I guess. I'll feel better once I get the insurance form faxed over, I think.

In other art news, I have two more confirmed shows and one tentative show for October. Information will come on those in the coming days, but I'll be at Coe House and The Tire Pit at Longhouse Studios, which is exciting because they're two venues I've never shown at before (and headed up by people that I think are pretty damn fantastic). Feeling very lucky right now. More on non-art aspects of life later. (*scoff* as if THOSE even matter!)

I WILL come back and update this after the shows are hung. Promise.

AND I'll bring pictures! Won't that be fun?

Chocolate and Cigarettes.

Are We There Yet?

I'm at the halfway point for both of the September shows. I was a little concerned over the past couple days that I wouldn't be done in time for hanging, but I did some figuring and I should be fine if I manage my time wisely. I have a three day weekend coming up, which will allow me the opportunity to make a lot of headway and hopefully finish at least one of the show's works. At the point, I'll just need to worry about framing and hanging apparatus.

There was a slight tension in my back and neck that seems to be getting worse, and I'm hoping that it's not due to the long painting sessions I've been having lately. I'm not too worried, but still taking care not to aggravate the situation (at least until my health insurance kicks in in September). It was MUCH worse when I was stressing about everything I need to take care of before I leave, though. School starts in two weeks, and I'm SO excited. I'm taking a full course load, but I'll be cutting my hours at work, so I'm not worried about getting too bogged down. Once these shows are hung with pictures shot, my portfolio will be about 90% complete (save a couple non-show pieces I'm working on in new media.) From that point, it's all paperwork, school, work, and writing this piece for Seven Minutes. Dawn and Nina will be performing with me, which makes me MORE scared, oddly enough. Initially, it was just me, doing a simple solo performance. With my concern that it wouldn't come close to filling the time allotted, I'm adding two more chapters for the ladies, which means more writing (which isn't too big a deal), keeping the original feel of the first piece in mind (which is the part I'm worried about).

I have no doubt I'll be able to do it and do myself justice.

Also: my show at PA is listed on showup.com and that totally freaks me out.

My Story

Sometimes We Cock Our Heads to The Side So They Think We Have Secrets to Tell
September 1-September 30

SuTRA Midtown
2317 N. 7th St.
Opening Reception: Friday, September 3rd 6p-10p

"Sometimes We Cock Our Heads to The Side So They Think We Have Secrets to Tell" is a series inspired by words never said. It focuses on the dreams, desires, and feelings that we let go of in order to maintain a well-crafted persona and the transparency of secrets for those who take the time to look. Utilizing reclaimed materials and local personalities as inspiration, "Sometimes..." doesn't analyze the words so much as the spaces between the words in a way that highlights nonverbal communication. As the age old adage goes: "It's not what you say, it's what you don't say."

Coming Home Again
September 1-September 30

Practical Art
5070 North Central Avenue
Opening Reception: Friday, September 3rd 6p-10p

"Coming Home Again" features abstract interpretations of home and the emotions surrounding home. It is a question of what "home" is in the literal sense of the word, as well as a study on the emotional impact of one's search for that place to call their own. "Coming Home Again" is about the journey of finding your place in the world.

You Were Just a Lightning Bug

I'm waiting for lightning.

Financial aid is in order. Classes start in just a couple of weeks now, and I'm excited and nervous all at the same time. Regarding my...feelings yesterday, they haven't changed. I, however, have. I look back fondly on the things and people that have happened to my life, and while I regret things I never had the courage to do, the opportunities of which have since passed me by for better things, I can't look back. The decisions I've made in my life thus far are mine, for better or for worse. This is the start of a new adventure. While I lost the chance for an adventure with him, I owe it to myself not to lose this chance now. Maybe I'll win, maybe I'll lose. Maybe I'll explode into a thousand bits of confetti, maybe I'll burst into flames.

If I never try, then I've already lost. If bittersweet memories are all I have of Phoenix, then I guess I owe myself the pursuit of something brighter. Something fresh. Something green and new, just like me.

I'll miss you, but I'll never forget you.

Search and Rescue

I've been avoiding writing a new entry until I felt like I had something substantial accomplished. I don't know that I have, just yet. Regardless, I feel an update is in order.

Things are going well at work, outside of it being a little slow because of the weather. I'm getting a lot of positive reinforcement on my artwork from employees at the museum, which is so sweet and wonderful. It's such an amazing feeling to have someone tell me they saw my work online and they were awe struck. I didn't know what to do or say, I was so flattered and surprised I just sort of meekly replied "Oh! ...thank you, that's so nice." and moved on. One of the museum directors was telling me that they're going to miss me when I leave, which baffled me because I always thought she hated me. It's a great feeling seeing people's true feelings, but it's so bittersweet to know I'm leaving it all behind for something unknown.

As I wrote this, I found out some news that is...really hard to grasp. The thing I wanted for so long from someone that I love so much is now happening...to someone else. It's not that I wish that person ill will, it's just hard, I guess. It goes back to what I've said multiple times in the past few years: I accidentally help people find their way. I've loved in that painful way you never *try* to love someone, but you inevitably do because you see so much good in them that your love for them can scare you off because you're afraid of ruining someone so beautiful. They've found happiness, and I was a part of that because I helped them learn what they want, need, and deserve.

I guess it hit me so hard because I knew it never could have been me.

I started writing this ten hours ago. I lost my place (in more ways than one), hoping tomorrow I'll regain a minute sense of things again and force myself to focus on the tasks at hand. January's creeping closer by the second.

It's Okay to Be Different, Little Blueberry.

Every single day has just sort of...melted into one long day. Training a new employee tomorrow, with the hopes that she won't suck and not show up on Thursday and steal my day off like she did today.

One of the directors at the museum offered to critique my applications, which is incredible. She worked at Otis before she came to the museum, so I'm excited to get some honest and constructive feedback. I've been putting off writing my essays for a week or so now. I know how to help people understand my ideas through my paintings, but I'm nervous about getting tripped up in the writing aspect. I just need to suck it up and fucking do it.

Experimenting a lot more with cut-out silhouettes. I guess my initial worry about doing silhouette work was the need for intricate detail to keep the subject from just looking like a blob. I've always tried to make a point of avoiding the specific details in a piece (in sketches, I can shade properly, but I don't like it. In portraits, I'll avoid painting eyes or lips, for example. I like to focus on the bigger picture), and while I have an appreciation for detail, it almost feels like going against my natural intuition to leave out the little things, instead replacing them with the details I find to be more necessary to conveying my intended message. Regardless, I think it will be a good practice for me to pay more attention to the intricate details again.

Moving Pictures, Silent Films

Working from 9:30-7 today, which is...less than desirable. I'm stuck in the middle of this creative frenzy, so losing a day right now feels like losing a month. I just hope this motivation sticks around for a while.

UPDATE: I knew I shouldn't have talked about it. That seems to be when things end up going wrong.