Christmas in Arizona

First of all, it's cold. I know you wouldn't expect that in Arizona, but is in fact cold. It's not snowing or anything, but it's definitely winter out here. Our friends up in Washington and Portland are snowed in, which I kind of envy, actually. Cold without snow is like a giant tease.

So last night we all went over to Mike and Lesley's for Christmas Eve. He and Lesley threw together a pretty cool Christmas bash. Honestly, I don't remember the last time a group of people that big laughed so much. At one point, I thought the alcohol might be suspect. Is there laughing juice in here? Apparently not. I was told this is what fun is called. Who knew?

The party was fun. There was a present swap. I somehow got the bag with hemorrhoid cream. More laughter ensued. My face hurt after about 10 seconds.

Doc, Andy and Sam got blasted. Doc was hilarious. The most memorable drunk moment between them was white boy impov rap. That's right; rap. Andy gave a beat while Doc and Sam teed off. Oh.. the things that were said in that rap. No, Doc, I won't repeat them here, and no, I won't include the picture either. ;) That piece of evidence, I leave to you to do with what you will.

Under Mike and Lesley's Christmas tree was a box to "The Tom Billings Foundation", which is our new Non Profit Org. They gave it to us before we left. I'm still blown away with their present. A camera. They gave us a Nikon digital camera and it'll rock your socks off. I've been playing with it all day.

Christmas day, everyone was pretty beat, but it was a nice day; Turkey, Russian Holiday bread, a Christmas tree over a pile of presents. I got shoes! Really cool shoes that fit my big ass feet! The scarf I'm wearing with the puppy Marita made me.

And now, for your viewing pleasure; my day with the camera, and yes; it has time lapse on it, which is the coolest thing ever! I'm going to go play with my camera now. :)





Timelapse footage of the back alleyway and the awesome sunset. How cool is that?

Me and Marla, the crazy new puppy!

Christmas Aftermath.

Our Seat in Office

It's the only thing anyone is talking about right now, and though I've tried to focus on something else today, I just can't help it.
Barack Obama was elected the 44^th President of The United States of America.
I think we all knew he'd win, but I was also terrified he'd somehow loose. After all, Bush won in 2000, and no one saw that coming.

The truth is, for the past eight years, I've been ashamed of my country. I was an expat in China, and when meeting foreigners, I'd try to avoid the inevitable question: Where are you from? I think more often than not, I'd say "I'm American, but don't hold it against me.", that is, if I actually answered the question.

Americans tend to live in their own little bubble. Few Americans travel abroad these days and internationally, we're made fun of for being so self centered as to have a national predisposition against learning a second language. Americans tend to think we're the center of everything, somehow the most important country in the world.

We know where that comes from. All over the world, people have been coming here to try their hand at The Great American Dream, but for the past eight years, us expats were not the only ones disillusioned. Chinese friends of mine, people who grew up in a decidedly communist country where censorship is tailored ala 1984, where the general public is being lied to on a constant basis about anything from The Long March to meteorological statistics, couldn't believe what Americans were letting happen in The Land of the Free.

The the war. The economy. The abundant lies. My Chinese comrades couldn't believe the injustice. There was less and less favorable things said about us. Fewer wanted to come to America. Fewer foreigners saw America as a place that offered any dream at all anymore. No one I spoke to over there, Chinese, Australian, British, Irish or otherwise, trusted or believed George W. Bush. I didn't either, and I still don't.
My long drawn out point here is that we've been in trouble. Even if some of us can't see it, the rest of the world knows and we've all been seriously worried about just how far down America would sink. I think over the past year, the majority of Americans, even the stubborn ones, have let themselves see how far off the track we've gone.

But last night, Senator McCain made his concession speech, and a sincere and level headed intellectual, Barack Obama, made his acceptance speech to the packed crowds in Chicago.

Its monumental. We all know just how important it is that he won. Yes, it's an historical event to elect an African American as president of the United States, but the real victory here isn't about race, it's about saving our country.

In the 90s, during President Clinton's presidency, America was on a consistent upward slope, enjoying a surplus, thriving in a booming economy and enjoying all of our personal liberties. Since then, we've had our liberties and dignity stripped away as we watched our economy drain out through a wayward war.

We needed Barack to win.

They say that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely, but distribute this power among the ranks of the masses, and you will see tides of progress and monumental change. Historically, when the people as a whole have been allowed to play an active part of governing, when they have been given the power and ability to participate, huge obstacles have crumbled in front of their united effort and we have made great strides. The power of America has always been in it's people and for too long we have been cut off from influence, and have been made to sit and watch our lives unfold in fear. With our liberties and freedoms handed back to us, we have the opportunity to gain ground again in the scientific and technological race, we have the ability to be a sound leading country again and show the world just how much we can accomplish when the power is in the right hands: ours.

Barack Obama is a great man, but we must remember that he is just that: a man. For America to rebound from the last eight years, we need two things: an intelligent competent leader and the collective effort of the American people. One without the other will never work. He needs us as much as we need him, and that's why this day is monumental, because with him in office, we have a good chance of regaining our seat in office. What America has been missing these past years is the power of the individual and the influence of the American people as a whole. Hopefully this is what will change all that.

Flying Seeds

Andy and I got married on October 29th, but we generally celebrate on Halloween. Either way, it was nice getting emails and calls on our official anniversary from friends and family. Thank you!
That night, my brother in law, Mike and his girlfriend, Leslie came over with some pumpkins and we carved all night. SomehoｗＩdon't have pictures of the food fight that ensued. It was everywhere, and I was still finding pumpkin seeds in my hair the next morning. Leslie started it and Kay was the first to throw any at me, which of course meant all out war. I probably escalated it a bit... :) I at least stopped myself from pooring the whole bowl on someone's head.

Anyway, here are our finished pumpkins. I'll put up photos from Halloween night later. You'll want to see it. There was a burlesque show....with fire! Yeah, it made Doc a very happy man.

Below:(In the back) Mike, Leslie
Up Front: Doc, Kay, Sienna, Andy

Below: Andy, Sienna, Doc, Mike, Kay, Leslie

Acts of Desperation

By now, we all know that John McCain has chosen Alaska governor, Sarah Palin as Vice Presidential running mate.

I simply can't wrap my head around it. It strikes me as a blatant act of desperation, and I'm finding it difficult to find any reason whatsoever for choosing her beyond her gender. She has no foreign relations experience, has only 20 months of experience running her very small state, and has already gathered a questionable track record. People are arguing over whether or not her infantile leadership experience is something to squawk over. There's a lot of defense, but what I'm not seeing is anyone bringing to the table why she would be a good candidate.

What bothers me is that by McCain choosing her as a possible vice president of the US, he's showing tremendous irresponsibility, telling the American people that he's okay with unqualified people running our local and foreign affairs. Whats worse, is that no one seems to be offended by this. It seems to me that by choosing Palin, he's proven that he's not concerning himself with the actual running of the country at all, but only with the race at hand. It shows a complete lack of foresight and in and of itself proves that he's unfit for presidency. Any candidate that would risk the security of the nation on a gimmick, on a political stunt, should never cast his shadow on the threshold of the White House. Yes, all politicians use stunts and glamor to win, but generally, they don't do it at the risk of our country.

If by some unlucky turn of fate, McCain does become president, the American people would be handcuffed to a shell shocked president who still isn't sure if he believes in Global Warming and a VP that as of a few weeks ago, was perplexed by what her potential job would even entail!

From everything I've seen, the only thing McCain and his people know about a campaign is developing controversy and hoopla, and generally to their own downfall. For instance, the "Obama Energy Plan" Tire Gage he passed out, that looked and acted like an add for Obama, rather than the mockery he intended.

They're nothing but a side show, and I find it hard to believe that anyone at all is listening anymore. They've discredited themselves and made a mockery of themselves and (to our benefit) of their party.

Just the other day, McCain had the stroke of genius to say that the GOP needed to "Take off their Republican hats and put on their American Hats" during the Hurricane in New Orleans. By his own words, he's told us that you cannot be both an American and a Republican at the same time, and that if America is in danger, the last thing we need is a Republican on deck. He warned us. A republican himself. The Republican candidate for presidency HIMSELF has told America that when we're up against a wall, you better clean all the Republican Hats out of the house.

I couldn't agree with you more.


As a final note, this was another stroke of genius.
On August 29th, McCain announced Palin as his running mate. Palin was introducing herself to the American people for the first time. This moment was pivotal for her. She had to show just the right amount of strength, youth, patriotism and female compassion to win over all these people who didn't know her from Eve. And what did she do? She lied. Right out from the gate, she lied about "The Bridge to Nowhere", claiming that she had opposed it being built, even when we have proof she had supported it, proof that was so recent, I wonder why she would even try to lie about it.

And so, I thank you Sarah Palin, for simplifying everything for us. So early in the game, you and McCain have done all the work a critic might want, you've even created the slogans for us.

I dedicate this image to Palin and McCain. You, and you alone made this image possible.

McCain / Palin
A Bridge to Nowhere

Art Blog

I am now blogging all art related news at my new blog, The Rogue Palette.
Visit it at RoguePalette.Blogspot.com

Vector Illustrations and Why Windows Sucks

I've always dug vector illustrations and design, and I noticed that when I'm designing, I'm often making pretend with vector design. So I decided to bridge the gap and just get a vector program. I'm using Inkscape. It's an open source, totally free alternative to Illustrator.
First of all: Linux is the shit! The more I use it, the more I like it and the less I like Windows. Just the usability is so much better. When you're in a linux program, you interface with the software. With nothing but my right hand on the mouse and my left hanging over ctrl and shft, I can work uninterrupted. It was unusual at first, but now it's second nature. I keep using Ubuntu hot keys and navigation when I'm in Windows programs and I keep getting frustrated that I have to stop what I'm doing to go grab the zoom or some other thing. Linux OS and software let you operate in them uninterupted. It's just little amounts of time that you take doing these little things in Windows programs, but these little hickups get in the way of your designing/work progress.
Maybe it's not for everyone, but if a die hard Windows fan actually tried it out, I think everyone would come to same conclussion: Linux software is more productive and easier for long time use. If you're not a serious designer or computer dude, then no, it'll suck for you. If you only ever use your computer to check email and write reports in Word, then Linux isn't much use to you and you'd probably give up long before you saw the benefit.
I was hesitant at first. I use Gutsy Ubuntu, and when I first got it, I was always worried I would fuck it up in some unrepairable way. I think it was because of the terminal and that you can change so much about the OS. Anyway, now it's just awesome. Everything is easy, and maintenance is a frelling dream. (yes I said frelling. It seemed fitting here. Okay, how about fracking? ;P / )

Okay, I'm done ranting now. I'm just stoked. I just wish I had known about all this before. The OS and all the software (pretty much all) are open source and totally free, and usually miles better than their pricey competitors. Why the hell woulnd't you make the switch?

Okay, done now.
Here, this is what I did with Inkscape so far. I just started, so I'm sure you can do much cooler things in it. I'll figure it out in time.


Yeah, I couldn't get enough out of that Raven. I made the Raven for Kay's website, Raven's Writing Desk.

The Real World?

American life is coming back to me. For the past two and a half years, we've lived on our own schedules, doing our own thing on our own time and not worrying about the usual things you worry about in a usual life. We've been back for seven months and yesterday I went to a job interview. That's the crux of the usual life, and the thing we are always wary of.

It's not the usual day job though. The place is called Phoenix Art Group and I'd be interviewing for a position as an artist. So this isn't the usual trip, but it's still working for someone else, and that's something I haven't done for a while. The interviewing process itself is a bit...weird. I'm not used to it. The thing I wasn't expecting was being nervous. I wasn't in the beginning, but then I realized I actually wanted the job. If it was a waitress interview, I couldn't care less.

My error was asking the receptionist to explain how it works there. As it turns out, there's a lot of learning in the job. If you know me at all, you know learning turns me on. That's right, I can't get enough of it, and I'm particularly hungry lately for learning things pertaining to art. I'm an alright artist, but I make it all up, and lately I'm looking for some technique. Well it just so happens that they teach exactly that in this job. So this is how it works:

A designer creates a piece: acrylic, oil or metal sculpture. Then they have a show. When a company or person diggs it, the designer comes back and gathers up all his little artists and then goes on to teach them how to recreate the piece. Yeah, it's mass production, and it's for companies. A lot of it is "contemporary", the kind of artwork I can't stand, but I can't help but think of correlations to the age old art apprentice. The head guy designed it and then taught his little artists how to paint it for him. Michelangelo was not the only artist who laid his brush on the Sisteenth Chappell, it was a big project and you can be damn sure that he had all his apprentices painting that ceiling too. For all I know, the Sisteenth Chappel is the exception, but that's how it went.
Okay, this ain't no Sisteenth Chappel. This is corporate art. I'm not looking at it as great artwork, but it's the teaching in there I'm looking at. They have TECHNIQUE. They teach you how to put the paint down, what to mix it with, how to order the layers, how to use materials that I DON'T USE, and if they let me, teaching me how to do metal sculpture. I could use all of that in my own art, and make it something really great.

See, now I want the job. And now I'm nervous.

I didn't have the actual interview yet. I just went in and talked to the receptionist and did the application bit. When I first came in, I just brought my portfolio. Rachel, the receptionist, tells me they only take CDs or slides and that they won't see anyone until after they have that with the application. So I take the application and ask her questions. Rachel tells me they're not looking for anyone right now, but would hire someone who really shines. She asks if she can look through my portfolio while I'm filling out the application and of course I let her. She "looks" through my portfolio, if you can call speed skimming "looking". Surprisingly, when she finishes, she jumps on the phone and calls up the person who will be reviewing my work and tries to get me an interview right there on the spot. Needless to say, this got my hopes up a bit. Unfortunately, the woman on the other end of the phone stuck to the rules and said she'd have to see the cd I put together first.
So I gather up my portfolio and go home to make the cd, put on my bio and 10 of my best pieces and hurry back.
So now, I'm waiting.... impatiently.

This is weird. I want them to be impressed by my work and give me a chance. This is a job, and I want it.

By the way, these are two new pieces of mine that I put on the CD. I think I'm getting better recently. I've been asking people to critique my work and I've been actually taking notes on what I need to improve. So these are the first two results of my note taking.

The Death of a Comic Book Hero

I hardly ever read the newspaper anymore. Sometimes I skim and every now and then I get the urge to delve in. Today, Kay (Andyś Mom) and I were reading the New York times and a local Phoenix newspaper. After talking about the local art shows and joking about tools with SUVs paying 100 bucks to fill their gas tank, I put down the paper and started making breakfast. Kay kept reading.
¨Whoś this, only 37 and he died?" She asks. I barely comment.
¨Some Michael Turner.¨She continues.
¨Michael Turner, Michael Turner; that sounds familiar, I think I-"And then it hits me. She´s talking about Michael Turner, the comic book artist for Fathom, Witchblade, dozens of covers for Superman and Batman, Justice Leagues, Super Girl and so many more.

She´s talking about my idol.

I tore the paper right out of her hand. It was true, it was him. Mike Turner had died.

When I was 13, I used to draw from his comic books. Very early in my artistic ¨carreer¨, I found Turner, and I wanted nothing more than to be able to draw like he did, to get those provocative angles and beautiful curves, and the style, oh the style! I wanted to know how he came to seeing the world that way.

I´ve had very few teachers and fewer still who cared enough to actually teach me, but though he had no idea (and now never will), he had a profound effect on me as one of my earliest and longest standing teachers to date.

I´ve heard my parents and people my parents age talk about the days their idols died, about how it affected them, about how they cried, or yelled or fasted or fucked their idolyic homage to them. I never quite got it. I respected these people they were talking about and knew them well, but I didn´t get. Mike Turner´s death hit me like a ton of bricks. He had bone cancer. He died of a complication during treatment on June 27th. He´d been battling the bone cancer for eight years, producing stunning work the whole time, all while being upbeat. Thirty seven fucking years old. How the fuck does the Universe account for that?

When I look through comic books, I immediatly look for the writer and artist, and his name is what I´m always hoping for. If it was drawn by Mike Turner, you knew it was worth it. Hell, you recognize his covers out of the corner of your eye. Thereś no mistaking Turner.
I never quickly read through a comic drawn by Mike Turner. I always linger on the pages, re read his frames and try to memorize the images as best I can, hoping I´ll take something from it.

I´m not an accomplished artist yet, not really. I´ve had my shows and my jobs and all that, but I´m not there yet and I have miles to go. So if you´re reading this, and aren´t familiar with Mike Turner(and if you are), don´t take my art as a reflection of his work. I´m nothing like him and I have none of the precisions that he´s mastered. I am however a loyal fan, someone whose anticipated his covers and kept his comics, one whose respected and envied his work. I´m someone who...well shit, I´m someone who´s mourning their idol today. I think this is the first.

Of Michael Turner, I can say he was one of the greats in the fields. His work in Identity Crisis was masterful, as were all of his pieces. His covers struck you and his frames kept you in the book´s own little world. I just can´t believe that there won´t be any new Turner comics in the future, no new editions, no new covers, no new frames. Granted, he´s done a lot of work, but I just can´t believe that the comic book world has lost Turner.

You truly will be missed.



Here are some links about his death that you might like to read:

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-turner4-2008jul04,0,449513.story

http://pwbeat.publishersweekly.com/blog/2008/06/28/rip-michael-turner/

http://www.comicbookresources.com/?page=article&id=16993

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-turner4-2008jul04,0,449513.story?track=rss

More importantly, take a look at the website for his comic book company, Aspen Comics. You can see some of his work there and see what the hell it is I´m talking about.

http://www.aspencomics.com/

Tide

Caught in a sea where the waves are in constant flux

you cannot see which way is up

The skin of the ocean teases you

telling you air is moments away

Light breaks through the surface and scatters

giving you fragmented pieces of it's warmth

but not it's actuality,

And you wait under the tide

allowing the illusions,

the reflections of the sun

to fool you into believing you are in it's grace,

and will soon drink up it's golden light.

All the while breathing gallons of the sea water into your lungs,

slowly becoming aware

that the salt is carving jagged edges into your throat,

changing you into a harder thing

carving off the soft pieces of your self

things you called humanity

The sea slowly sculpts you into it's many sunken rocks

hardening you and chilling you so

that you fear when you do finally reach the sun,

you might not be able to feel it's warmth at all

for being carved so raw.

Alice in Wonderland Poster

Here is a poster for Alice in Wonderland that I was commissioned for. The painting itself is oil paint. All the info and shnazzy design is post.
They just finished their run at the El Portal Theatre. I created this for Drama in the Middle which regularly produces children's Musicals and theatre.

Used Selves

Imagine that instead of aging like we do with each passing year, adding wrinkles and changes to this one package we carry around with us for our lifetime, that we rather left behind a dead body of that year and started again with another at the start of the new one. Every year, you leave behind a body, just as dead as though you passed. It held the person you were in that year and up to that year, encapsulated in physical form.

Returning to this place is like trying to get back into one of those discarded bodies, those used selves. I don't fit and I can never make it work again. The machine is broken and neither I nor it wants us to be together again. Beyond that, it is an impossibility. I cannot return to the used self. I am either who I am now or something else, but I can't fit me into something old and done. That self that belonged here is long done.

Dramatization of Democracy

I was watching The Daily Show and Senator McCain came on the show talking about his campaign for presidency. I saw him talking, with his memorized retorts and concocted belief systems; sound bites of goals and intentions. I can't remember anyone talking about anything real; I don't remember anyone with an actual plan. If I was running for presidency, I'd sure as hell have a plan. I don't care about anything they've said and I don't think anyone else does either, mostly because they don't say anything of consequence.

The banter reminded me of some of those radio shows you hear, with people calling in to argue for their side of the debate of the day. A few years ago, I was offered a job to play one of these people on the radio. They wanted me to argue a side of one of these such debates. I did not share this view or have any background showing that I'd have any interest in it. I was an actress, and I was being paid for a role. This is when it all became clear just how staged these radio dramas where. As it turned out, it spread to other radio shows as well, including some bigger ones I probably shouldn't go on exposing. I'm not worried that a radio show is going to come down and sue me, but people rely on their escapisms to get through life, and this would be like spoiling a movie that you are slowly watching day in and day out. Not my bag.

And the magic was gone. Now I can't listen to anyone calling in on a radio show anymore.

So they're all actors. It's shady and sucks to be lied to, but I didn't care about these issues and knew that people were tuning in for entertainment and not any real information.

What I saw from McCain disturbed me. The banter, the way he held himself, the fact that these guys never actually answer a question. It all seems like they don't really know anything about what they're going on about; like they're actors filling a part. An actor whose been briefed on his role as a plummer can beat around the answers about the drain system and what tools to be used and still have no idea what they're talking about. Give them a few years, and they'd have political bullshit down to a tee; you don't seem to have to know anything at all beyond misinformation and slight of tongue anyway to run for office. Granted, these would be higher quality actors, but with enough training/experience/time, you could pull it off.

It struck me that it could all be the same thing; a dramatization of democracy in action; a show put on for us to make us feel that we're part of something that died years ago.

It felt like an epiphany that was hanging out in the peripheral of my vision; something abstract and alien, and that if I didn't focus on it and try to name it, it would go away, because no one would ever think this and it's likely to just fall away... which of course makes it easier to pull off.

A big show. I guess they have thought of this in a way, but I don't think Jon Stewart would be in on it, so it could just be the politicians. Maybe the generals of war are who hire them, and they keep the politician actors doing their part so they can set up their international game of risk and bank on oil and big industry. It all sounds completely crazy, but it could work.

I don't believe this; it's just a novel idea, but it's an idea that could do something to begin to answer how these guys can talk for years and never say a god dammed thing.

I'm registered to vote again out here, and I'm wondering just what the hell I'd be basing my decision on. I still haven't heard a president speak, not for many years.

May Show at the Avery Schreiber Theatre

I am working with The New York Acting Ensemble and their first performance in LA, A Hatful of Rain. Next month, we are showing at the Avery Schreiber theatre from May 2nd - May 25th, every Friday, Saturday and Sunday.


I'm excited about working with this group. They've just recently come over from Florida and have welcomed me into their group for this project. I was introduced to them as an artist because they were looking for a better poster for their show. I painted the poster for them and it went on from there.


In May, I will be showing a series of drawings from their performance of A Hatful of Rain. These drawings show moments from the play that really stand out and visually tell the story, and will be up before and after each performance. In this way, audience members have the chance to take home a piece of the play with them in either a print or an original drawing. In a separate room there will be prints available as well as some originals of my other work.


Other than my artwork, I have accumulated a few other roles in the play, including the role of Putski, a rich, attention seeking drug addict who offers the drug dealers a way out of the city during a crack down.


A role I wasn't expecting that has been a bit interesting to me is the directing. Myself and Junior have teamed up to finish the blocking and character direction for the play. He's great to work with; full of ideas and never pushing his ego for the direction (which is usually what you get). It's an exciting experience. Because I'm drawing these scenes, I'm watching for good composition and powerful moments, which I think gives me an advantage on the direction. I've never done this before, but I'm happy to, and the cast has been patient and helpful the whole time. It's also a very cool experience to offer advise to bring a scene in a new direction and then watch them take on that direction and run with it. They're capable actors and are all concerned with nothing more than offering a good show. I've never done theatre before and so there are many things I do not know, but they've all been gracious to help and work with me to meet the same goal.

I'm working on the drawings now and they're coming out nicely.


For anyone who is interested in attending, here's the info:

May 2nd - May 25th,
Fridays and Saturdays (art) 6pm-8pm (play) 8pm -
Sundays (play) 5 pm (art) 7:30 pm -

At the Avery Schreiber Theatre
11050 Magnolia Blvd.
North Hollywood, Ca.
91601

www. FrogFaith. com/Sienna

Art.Sienna@gmail.com

META Show Day One

A 22 hour flight with a lay over in Canada returned me to the ole US of A on February 5th, 2008. We landed with just enough renminbe to to buy a much needed pack of American cigarettes and a cup of joe. We were welcomed into the energetic and very blond arms of Andy's brother, Sam and his girlfriend, Marita.
After day one, we should have know how busy life was going to be for us. The very next day, Andy went to Raleigh studios with Sam to work on his company, Apocalyptic Films at 6 am. 6 am after a 22 hour flight is a little early for me, so I passed.

Life has not slowed down since.

Last night was the first run of the two day show at the META theatre with The New York Acting Ensemble. It was a technical run for both of us (the play and the art show), and I think we were all happy with how it turned out.
The NYAE was performing teaser pieces from A Hatful of Rain to a small audience in preparation for their full run in May. They set the mood with a comedic short performance from what was dubbed "Deuce Reparatory Theatre Company's 2008 Season" with Clay Baxtor and Ed Chaves, the remnants of a full group of actors, whittled down to two. When they first walked onto the stage, I was prepared for an impromptu actors performance akin to something you'd see in an acting class. I assumed it was filler. I was pleasantly surprised.

The skit was hilarious. The two walked onto the stage donning English accents and explained to us the meaning of Duece, prepared our little American audience for their skit and quickly fell into an ever changing scene with homages and mockery to some of the most well known plays to date They began and ended with literally waiting for Godot, and flipped through many faces of theatre with well set up transitions and timing. Of mice and men, Glass Menagerie, The Death of a Salesman, and on. A few times, the transitions were a little rough, but they were changing from arguing about being such an odd couple to the failing execution one eager and simple Lenny Small. The transitional cues consisted mainly of blocking, severely breaking from one scene to another depending on their stance and their interaction with the set. It was clever, sometimes a bit too cute, but very funny, all in all.

It warmed up the audience and broke the ice and helped answer the question everyone has when going to a play: "Am I going to be sitting through a boring, poorly acted play?" You can't help it, that question is always there, but the first skit warmed the audience up quite well and we were ready to see the rest.

So as not to lead us on to thinking this was all going to be comedy, they quickly followed it up with a dramatic monologue from "The Vet" performed by Stan Fisher. The monologue was an amputee veteran's remembrance of his experience in Vietnam. The monologue was dark and low. It was everything a Vietnam Vet's story always has been; dark and somehow foreboding.

I can see why they chose this monologue just before their scenes from A Hatful of rain. A Hatful of Rain is set after World War II, and tells the first story of a junky following the war, and how his family deals with it. Johnny came back from the war addicted to the morphine they put him on during his recovery from torture. They didn't tell him how to deal with it and paid no attempt to ween him off of it before he returned to his family and pregnant wife. The Vietnam story was there to remind us that what Johnny was returning from was war, and that while physically removed from it, his experiences there were very real and would find it's way into his home life regardless of how much he wanted it gone; no matter how many newspapers he destroyed and how many conversations he avoided.

A dramatic monologue on it's own is hard to pull off. People don't want to be brought down, and only do if they first care about the character. Unfortunately, we didn't get to know him before his monologue, and so it fell a little flat, due to lack of set up. This is the downfall of any monologue that has to stand on it's own. It served it's purpose, sitting in the back of our minds through Johnny's experience, but the monologue itself left the audience wanting; wanting a reason to love or hate this man who poured tears in front of them.

Following the monologue, the real show of the night began, with four select scenes from A Hatful of Rain. The scenes were clearly selected to allow enough time to introduce the family to the audience, let us care and then plainly show the turmoil that shifted beneath the surface.

This was a promotional show, and was intended as a good excuse for a technical run. No one expected it to go without a hitch. The actors are still wrestling with their characters, the blocking is up for grabs and one character has yet to be cast. Early play production is always fraught with problems, but they made good with what they had and successfully gave the audience a glimpse of the world they will be bringing to life in May.

Here and there, lines were lost, and every now and then, a character's emotion was a bit muted or over played, but that is the way of an early performance. The actors are still getting comfortable in the skin of their characters.

The family was very clear and I walked away knowing the characters much more than I had expected. I know the play and I know a majority of the actors, so I don' t get the advantage of suspension of disbelief, but from behind me, I heard the audience sighing in empathetic pain as the husband and wife played out the dance out what could be the last days of their marriage. They laughed openly with the drunken timing of the brother Polo, and the whole room tightened as they waited to see if Celia would accept of dismiss Polo's advances, offering a man who loved and appreciated her. In that moment before he kissed her, no one breathed.
I especially loved watching my father, Thomm Boffi. play the role of the Father, but I guess that's to be expected. He's been worried about this performance, and from how much worry I saw coming from him, I expected a choppy performance. That's not what we got. Just like everyone else; a few lines were lost here and there, but the father came out clear. I knew this character, and he wasn't my father, he was very much a full realization of Johnny's father. The audience laughed at this jokes and tensed at his anger. He came through natural.

Next up was the art show.

In China, I created a 3d Room to display my art, suspending it from the ceiling, to be used in a music video. I remembered that fact after I had a chance to step back and look at the stage. My paintings were set up in an arc around the stage, hanging from thin thread, suspended from the ceiling and rafters. How perfectly cyclical.

The set up took longer than we expected, so a few early comers were able to see some of the set up and listen as little bits of artist last minute madness leaked through.

It was an intimate show. This being the first show, I invited mostly friends and family. It gave a good opportunity to hammer out the edges and find the flow for the next show. Free wine was flowing and the night found a nice rythym with some cool sometimes eerie music coming from the speakers. I told and retold the stories from the paintings and realized for the first time how foreign and new my little life had become for my family and friends. I enjoyed telling the stories to fresh ears. It gave it new life.
We sold a few prints and hung out until the very last minute.

I can't give much of a review for my show because, well it's mine, but it was pretty much a success. There was good vibe, good people, and a great set up that I can't wait to have again this Thursday. It was odd seeing all those paintings hanging from the celing. There seemed to have bene more of them than I remembered once they were put up. Feed back, perspective, creative conversation. This is what I came back for.

This Thursday is the last day at META, and I'm looking forward to it. We've invited more people, fixed a few of the rough edges and even have a mention on a radio show. I'm excited. I'm thrilled. I'm working with a group of creative people all to get out a good show. It's what we live for.

I can't wait for May.


Johnny Pope: David Warren
Polo Pope: Jason Ragle
Celia: Hallie Powers
Father: Thomm Boffi

Deuce: Clay Baxtor and Ed Chavez
The Vet: Stan Fisher

Upcoming Art Shows

Email me at Art.Sienna@gmail.com if you have any questions.
This is my first show since I left to China over 2 years ago.
Wish me luck.

Sleep Deprived Painting

33 hours without sleep. I couldn't hold a conversation. I couldn't play video games. I couldn't do Tai Chi. I couldn't just sit around and wait. I had to stay up to fix my schedule so that I'd be awake for my dad's angioplasty on Thursday.

7 hours to kill.

I couldn't function as a human being....but I could...Paint.

This is a commissioned painting of a boy named Max. The pictures will tell my sleep deprived story.

Scroll to the end for the big finish.

And now that my brain is dripping out of my ears..... my finished painting.

Goodnight.

Self

You're defined by the people around you, how your image reflects off of them and back at you, warped by them viewing you, changed by them knowing you, and you by knowing them. It can be a powerful and beautiful thing, something nearly unexplainable how close friends will meld into each other, trading their mannerisms and beliefs, their battles and their dreams. It flows back and forth back and forth, changing a little every time it's viewed and known and reflected.

And what if you take away those people, and you just leave the person alone in their home, reflecting off themselves, watching themselves and distorting their image with their own critical and subjective eye? Do you get something closer to the truth, something unfettered by outside influences, untouched by strange perspectives? Do you get a concentrated pure version of yourself? Or do you get something incomplete, something that is meant to grow and warp and change and melt and reform again but is instead stuck in a rigid echo, reflecting back the same as always? Perhaps you only change it by eating away at it, or adding false accessories in place of real change. Is it left wanting without the information as to how to change?

These bouncing views from our friends and loved ones, from our neighborhood and world society; do they hinder or help? And if completely torn from one or the other, will it leave an incomplete image of the self? Without the personal self one is left with only twisted images of a person from what we can get from others, ever changing and ever wrong, constantly altering the self to fit an ever changing view from a constant stream of eyes, leaving nothing pure or whole to rest on. And without the viewers, without the objective eye of an outside observer and outside influences gently pushing and pulling against our sides, we'd never know to what degree we are capable of changing, how we react to pressure and sloth, how we rise against oppression and fear, and how we buckle to love and pleasure. Without one, the other is all but nonexistent, and with too much of either you are a slave to an unbalanced controller without clarity or knowledge.

Just something that crossed my mind earlier. Thought I'd write it down.

Rare Moments

Rare moments in China that I shouldn't forget:

A driver admitting to not liking China's leader and loathing President Bush in a long conversation in the truck after a day of shooting. In the beginning of the conversation, he touted Bush as the cats ass, but after I let him know what I thought, he let it go and he went on a rant about why he hated Bush and didn't like his own leader. This was the first time a Chinese person both A: told me that most Chinese people DON'T like our current President, and B: the first of a very few times a Chinese person has complained about their leader and spoken openly beyond the usual "China is great, and America is Number 1" (which is usually what you hear).

A Chinese woman who smoked who was not a hooker.

A Chinese man who worked at the local market selling vegetables for 5 mao who spoke to me in Spanish.

Doc taking away the dollar that an annoying and persistent beggar was shoving in his face to push him to give him money. He proceeded to stalk the restaurant we went to for the next hour and a half in search of his lost dollar.

Seeing a local beggar at the bank, depositing a huge stack of money.

Overhearing a salesperson go off on how these stupid foreigners couldn't understand Chinese, then taking up an in depth conversation in Mandarin to the person in line next to me.

Talking to anyone about history that is at all in the realm of historic accuracy.

Seeing Doc giggle like a little school girl after a bottle of Champagne.

Finding a real steak that tasted like actual steak.

Ordering a steak and getting a squishy ball of sinewy gelatinous mystery meat that refused to be cut and then paying 60 bucks for it.

Talking to a Chinese man named Sailing about the philosophy of personal freedom and the importance of the self. He explained how important it was for China to start considering the path of the individual and not just the path of the country.

Rigging stage lights to explode upon next usage after getting screwed.

Twisting a girls arm for trying to take off your clothes while singing on stage.

Waiting backstage with a dozen kung fu boys, a dozen 9 year old female contortionists, the face change master lady and two singing midgets in leopard print.

Seeing a 4 year old boy walking with his mother while wearing jeans that say "Sex Baby" on his bum.

Watching a woman holding her son over a mall ashtray to urinate while waiting for the elevator (and seeing that everyone else that was waiting were fine with this and thought it a good idea).

Seeing an adult goat tied to a tree in the middle of the city...with no likely owner in sight.

Getting a month long, pain-killer-free root canal in an open cubicle while random people watch you and talk to the dentist at a hospital with an xray that is exposed to the waiting room.

Going to a "female doctor" and having four other people and a kid waiting in the room to go next. (I asked them to leave).

Going to the dentist and having the nurses argue with the dentist to pull the tooth rather than put in a filling. The reasoning was that getting a filling could just mean getting another one later, and why bother with the hassle?

Going to the police department to turn in "bad meat" with tumor things on it that was served to Doc's girlfriend at a restaurant just to get told over and over again to go somewhere else. The building looked more like an abandoned school. There was also a door to a restricted access area with a keypad and card slot that was left ajar (apparently they didn't want to waist the time with all that pesky security).

Being invited into a private karaoke room at 6:30 in the morning to find that the room is occupied by four passed out drunk Chinese people sleeping in their own vomit and then being offered a beer.

Hearing Susan Vega being played on the radio in a taxi cab.

Being choked by sparkler smoke when the stage you're singing on suddenly erupts with 5, 6 foot high sparkler flames with no warning, and then trying to sing.

Having your drummer's hair nearly caught on fire when that stage suddenly erupts with 2, 3 foot high flames without warning and having him hardly miss a beat.

Having the stage nearly catch on fire when a spinning sparkler stops spinning shooting jets of flame directly onto the stage backdrop, and Sienna not noticing it. (once again, without warning of spinning, stationary or flames of any kind being involved in the show!!)

Mcguivering our own air conditioning system for a three story house. When buying the parts for it, having the salespeople think that jerry rigging an outdoor duct system, going from floor to floor is a perfectly normal and acceptable way to cool a house.

Having an "expert electrician" coming in to rewire the electric in the house, and ending up not being able to touch any electrical appliance without being shocked (unless you're wearing shoes) because he expertly forget to ground the building.

Watching China's first moon launch on live television and witnessing the uncovering of the rocket with huge letters reading "The long March" on it's side. It had been officially named Chang'e, named after a fairy who flew to the moon, while "The Long March" is referring to a military catastrophe spearheaded by Mao that resulted in the death of 40,000 of his own troops just to avoid meeting a superior. Mao, The untold story
(I was going to put a link to a youtube video of the launch, but being in China, I can only see 2 seconds of each video before it abruptly stops...funny, I can view videos of the marketing videos with the CGI launch... So you'll have to see for yourself)
*note: after looking it up, it turns out that the series of rockets they chose from are the Long March Series, this one being the Long March 3A; apparently they decided one massive rocket with the slogan wasn't enough.).

Seeing a brown coarse fur-lined cock ring at the rare sex shops. I believe the actual ring was made of some sort of animal skin or fat.

Being raised off my feet in line at the Guangzhou fair. The room was packed full and we were all pushed together, so much so that I was indeed hovering off the ground, being held up by the shoulders of people on either side of me. Amidst the chaos, a Chinese man was standing on a table yelling at people to cue up! Cue up? In China? What are you, nuts?

Buying a ball of fur on a bridge overpass for 150 yuan and calling her Chewbacca.

Being given a screaming cat by the Jehovah witness family that owned the convenient store next to our apartment and calling him Cruz.

Teaching my "personal driver" how to properly display road rage with a correctly held birdy and a loud "Fuck you!" which he pronounced "Foocka Youa!"