Thursday, February 28, 2008

Bach to the future!

"A handout graphic image shows a reconstruction of the face of German composer Johann Sebastian Bach.  This is the first representation of Bachs face  made using his excavated skull.  Researchers said on Thursday that it should be a better likeness of the composer than in existing sculptures and paintings."  - REUTERS.com

Is it just me? or does Bach look like every suspect sketch I ever seen for a 50 year old child molester?   Seriously.  I swear there is a guy selling fake Prada bags on the corner of 40th street and 7th that looks just like this guy.  Seriously people.  Why do we need to know what Bach looked like anyway?  The guy is dead.  I mean really, nobody is going to look at this picture and go "You know, I used to hate classical music, but this new image of Bach, I mean the guy looks so sophisticated and sexy.  He has this whole Harrison Ford hair cut and the awesome Miami tan is just fab.  I really think I like his music now.   The guy looked like a jackass before in his paintings, but now...well, now he looks like George Clooney with a slight overweight problem.  Who wouldn't want to listen to this guy play now?"


Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Have you seen my inspiration?



I have lost my inspiration.   Seriously.  I have done many things in my life, some I have done better than others.  Some of the things I would like to think I am good (or atleast semi-good) at include illustrations, graphic design, drawing on surfboards, drawing on skateboards, photography, writing funny/goofy poetry, drawing comics and producing music (mostly hip-hop and drum and bass).

Over the years I have done  a lot of all of the above.   As of the last few weeks (I am starting to think its even more) I have completely lost my inspiration.   No fresh ideas.  No original thought.  No creative influence.  No new imagination.  Nothing.  It's like I am looking at a giant white canvas (metaphorically) and holding a brush in one  hand and just can't seem to think where I should do my first brush stroke.

I am not sure what is bringing this on.  Perhaps its the weather.  NYC has been grey and dark for months now.  Perhaps its the lack of friends in this big city.   I tend to feed off peoples vibe into my art.  Perhaps its all the stress of the past few months.  Moving, smaller apartment, work, wife getting into school, etc.

I would like to tell myself "That is bulls**t" because I am an artist.  Artist don't stop getting inspiration when things are down.  Heck, we feed off of it.  Some great stuff has come out of really dark or lonely or stressful moments in my life.  So what is it?

Someone said to me "Perhaps you became content.  You got comfortable and your brain now is not stressed or the total opposite, creative.  It is just content.  It is taking a break."

I started to think about that.  Did I become content?  Did I drop down the metaphorical brush and walked away from the blank canvas to come back later?  Could I have possibly become what I never wanted to be?  Comfortable!

I don't mind comfort.  Certain things in life deserve comfort.   But comfort equals to satisfaction.  I should NOT be satisfied with my art.  I am an artist, we do not become satisfied with our work.  The whole lack of satisfaction is what drives us to want to keep going and do better and harder.  

For a while now, I have been told that I need to do something with my talents.  I have been told  I am letting my talents go to waste because I only use them between the hours of 9 to 6 doing graphic design work for my job and then it all shuts down afterwards.  I keep being told I should do something.  Start a business.  Start a gallery.  Start selling my stuff.  "You can be huge" they say.  "You can achieve so much with all you have to offer".   And yet, I stand still.  Standing in front of a big, giant canvas waiting for my arm to raise and start painting my future.  Nothing is happening.  

I need some inspiration damnit.  I wish I can go on ebay and place a bid on some damn inspiration.  I wish I could walk into a super market and go under the "creativity" isle and look at 17 brands of inspiration and buy the family bulk package.  I wish I could walk into a restaurant and order a super sized plate of inspiration to go (so I can take it home and eat it in front of a blank canvas).  But I can't.  Inspirations are like relationships.   They come, stay with you for a while and then they go until you find the "one".   The "one" being the inspiration that makes you get up day after day and roll with creativity into the world of success.  Many famous musicians found the "one" inspiration.  Some great painters too.  I, have not.    I have found the love of my life.  I have found friends I cherish.  But I have not found the "one" inspiration that makes me know what I should do, how I should do it and then get up every morning and do it.

So, I wait.  I wait for it to come because I honestly can't go searching for it.  I can go do some soul searching.  I can go try and "find" inspiration.  But that is not good.  It should come to me. 
I just hope it comes soon, because as someone said, I am letting my talents go to waste.  And talent, is a terrible thing to waste.

For now, the white canvas will remain white.  I hope soon, I can write that I have started painting on it.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Bed Space. The final frontier


In a city where space is everything, one would find the bed to be the place where you can find the least amount of space.  I had a small single for the majority of my bachelor life.  Then my wife and I upgraded to a Queen and now we have what is known as a "California King".   This bed is huge.  You can literally fit a sleeping elephant or 27 chimps if you wanted to.   With this huge bed, I found that the larger the space to sleep in, the larger the space between your loved ones during sleep.   

I was never much of a "cuddle" type, but when I slept in the queen bed, or even the single, you kind of have to.  You almost have to latch on to your partner just to keep yourself from falling off the edge of the bed.  It is like a Indiana Jones bed commercial.  But now I find, that you can seriously land jumbo jets between myself and my wife in this big bed when I wake up in the morning.  We do go to sleep holding eachother, and yes, we are madly in love.   

I have a theory on this.  We both live in a congested city.  I brush shoulders with 20 people every day.  The space on the sidewalk is literally the same space you get when you pass the turn style on the subway station.  Crossing the street makes you a life size version of the Frogger game, where you have to navigate left behind the bus bumper and then far right to go around the guy on the bike and back to the left  to go around the cab before hitting the other side of the road.   Getting on the 7 train at 5:30 pm is harder then getting into Le Deux on a friday night in Hollywood.   Once arriving home, the apartment living room is smaller than an average office and the bedroom is more like a super sized cubicle.  

So, when finally 11 pm hits and that head hits the pillow of a California King Size Bed, you want to stretch.  I think while we sleep, we enjoy the wide open fields of unattended bed sheets.
But shouldn't the time in bed be when you are closest to your loved one?  After all, it is not like you walk around in a cuddle position when you go out, or when you sit on the couch.  Shouldn't the "moments away from a deep sleep" time be spent holding the one you love?  rather than buying acres on the right side of the bed?

So I ask myself, does living in the big city? affect the way I sleep in a big bed?  small question....unknown answer.  Only way to know, is to get rid of the big bed and buy a small one to see what happens.  But as I said, in a city where space is everything, I can not commit myself to getting rid of the one thing that does not include 4 inch space to 15 other people.  

Sleep well Manhattan.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

60 degrees of separation


It was 60 degrees in Manhattan this past weekend. 
In Los Angeles, 60 degrees was cold.  If I went outside and it was 60, I either A) went back inside or B) went back inside and came out with a sweater.  
In New York, 60 degrees in Feb. means wearing a t-shirt and walking through Union Square.  I did not wear a t-shirt, but that's because they are all packed in a box until August.
60 degrees sure equal to different things on different coasts.  
P.S.  It supposed to rain in both coasts this week.  I am willing to bet that in LA, the news will declare it as "Storm Watch 2008" and have 24-7 coverage by their Doppler 3000.  In NYC, it will be considered "light showers with a chance of what the hell else is new".  

Mark it ZERO


"Mark it Zero" - Famous words by Walter on The Big Lebowski

Today, at 4:17 P.M. Eastern, I, Shai Dahan have officially paid my very last debt.  I am officially "ZERO" in debt in this world.  No credit card monthly payments for silly things like the iToilet or the complete collection of Saved By The Bell, no unpaid parking tickets from 1998, no money owed to the government, no money owed to "The Man", no money owed to bill collectors who I have gotten to know on a first name basis (sup Steve), no money owed to bank accounts that I had in college and had overdrafts for 7 years (one of which was for only $7.15), 

No more debt.  Zero, nada, zilch......well.....I will always be in debt to my pops.  But he knows I am good for it.  :)

It feels good to be zero in debt....my wife and her school loans on the other hand.......well, that's another story....for another credit card to tell.

For now, I celebrate this debt free day.  Probably by going to buy an expensive champagne on my Discover card (just kidding dad).

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Mr. Plow....


"Mr. Plow, that's my name.
That name again is Mr. Plow."
- Homer J. Simpson

First Sugar Roads for me




It has been snowing all day.  Finally it sticks and stays for atleast a few more hours.  I know that a year from now I will be like all other New Yorkers and complain about this Manhattan size slurpy that is just everywhere, but I just moved here and to see snow on the ground in a place called home for the first time in my life is kind of cool.  I read a lot of Calvin and Hobbes and never had the chance as a kid to stay home on a snow day.  So, when I look out my window (as seen in these photos) and see the streets of this beautiful city covered in a blanket of white sugar, it reminds me why I left Los Angeles.  To enjoy the things I always wanted and couldn't find in California. 

Snow outside my window.  It is my own personal Calvin and Hobbes strip.

It's been a long week so far (yes, it's only Tuesday) and somehow seeing this outside my window gets me as excited as a kid on snow day.

UPDATE:  The snow stopped dumping.  I stepped outside and it is tiny ice cubes falling from the sky.  A mohito on the fire escape sounds tempting.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Rest In Peace Mikey





"Once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return."

Dear Mikey


You called this image home.  I hope that the heaven you are resting in, looks just like that kid.
I miss you kid.  I will make sure to eat at "Yaffa" regularly in your memory.  You are a blessed soul and  a kind heart.   

Monday, February 4, 2008

I have a....how do you spell that again?




















I really don't know what to say about this right now.  Other than the fact the Mr. MLK is probably turning over in his grave wishing that his dream consisted of better educational funding in the U.S. 

It's a couch in a box!


Living in a small shoe box, requires stuff to be shipped to you in shoe boxes.









We ordered a sofa and...well...it came in a box.
I snapped a photo of it because I thought it was funny.  All I could think of is:
1)  Cut a whole in the box
2) Put the couch in the box
3) Make her open the box
and thats how you do the.....COUCH IN A BOX!
Yes, IKEA, the wonderful people who gave you the "Build it yourself coffee table" for our living room.  The "Build it yourself dresser" for our bedroom.  Now gave us the "Build it your DAMN self couch".  It came in a box, wrapped up like as if someone was ready to dump it in the East River with a body inside it.   Took longer to unwrap this thing then to bring it up 3 flights of stairs.
Anyway, I thought it was funny.  To live in a box, you must sit on a box.

Better than Christmas!






I don't know much about Christmas.  I know as much as the average person knows.  Presents. Tree. Santa. Deers. Milk and Cookies.  Lots of alcohol if you celebrate it in a Scandinavian country.  But, this is what it must feel like Christmas morning.  Today, I wake not only to know that my new home (NYC) has won the Super Bowl, which to many New Yorkers is a Christmas gift all on its own, but I wake to snow outside my window. 

Most of you probably are thinking "What the heck is so special about that?"  or if you live in New York, you probabbly thinking "Dude, the Giants just won the super bowl.  Why the heck do you not write about that instead of snow?"
Well, I am from California.  Actually, I take it back.  I am from the middle east AND California.  The only time I would see snow falling down is if someone tossed a slurpy outside of a building at my head down below.  
To me, snow is the best thing to get.  Better than a Super Bowl Championship.  Better than presents.  Better than alcohol at a Scandanavian Christmas party....uh, I take that back.  Although, alcohol and snow together = now THERE is a party.
Anyway, enjoy images from Feb. 4th, 2008 in Manhattan (above).

Friday, February 1, 2008