Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Photographer: Don Cudney
Title: Unknown

Photographer Unknown
Title Unknown

Monday, May 3, 2010

Narrative 1

Everyday I walk the same way home. I leave school on Fridays and walk home with my brown Vans shoes, my Dickies that I cut into shorts that hang far above my knees, one of my various hardcore tee shirts, and my backpack. It’s the end of the school year so it’s warm out. I cannot wait to get home and meet up with my friends. I couldn’t care less about school, it doesn’t make a difference to me if I graduate or not, I just like having a good time.
I get within 50 feet of my home and I can already smell the cigarette smoke. My mom has been sitting inside our house, our worthless house with chipping black paint and untamed shrubbery around the sides, chain smoking her heart (and lungs) out. I walk in the side door and go straight into the unfinished basement where my futon is and hope she doesn’t hear me. It’s not that I’ll get in trouble for leaving; I just don’t want to talk. I unzip the futon cover and take ten bucks out from the inside where I keep all my money and then put the rest back and zip it up again. I quickly go back up the stairs and straight out the door.
My band’s playing tonight, and before every show we practice in Alex’s basement. Alex can play guitar, bass, and drums. The only one he can really play well is bass but he’s the drummer in our band. Sean’s our guitarist and Mark is our bassist leaving me for vocals. It’s only a local VFW show but it’s a chance to play and be heard and hopefully gain popularity. They’re more fun this way anyways, it’s no pressure and our friend’s can have a good time singing along and running the show during our set.
When I arrive at Alex’s house I can already hear him drumming. He never stops. He goes to community college so he doesn’t have school every day like I do so he just spends all the time he’s not at school either with his girlfriend or playing drums. My friend Mike from another local band is also at Alex’s house. He usually watches us practice and rides with us to our shows. Sean’s the next to arrive at Alex’s house. We start practice without Mark every time and usually finish before he shows up too. He’s always late and never has his priorities set but I don’t really care because a bass isn’t going to change the world and it’s not like he’s good at it anyway.
So we finish practicing and packing Alex’s Blazer full of our equipment when Mark shows up. “Yo dude’s we practicing?”
“Already happened Mark, you know how to get to the Walpole VFW?” I ask.
“Yeah my girlfriend lives right by there,” say Mark.
“Alright word, we’ll meet you there then. Can you give Mike a ride by any chance?”
“I don’t think so dude, I got my bike in my truck already and then my girlfriend will be in there too.”
I hate when he can’t carry any of our equipment to shows so I figured if I asked if he could take Mike then he would agree but apparently I was wrong. “Alriiiiight awesome…” I respond and start to walk to Alex’s car to leave. I’m pissed.
“Yeah so I’ll see you there right?” Mark asks
“Yeah go to hell,” he knows I’m half kidding. He understands that he aggravates me all the time and knows I won’t be mad at him within 20 minutes.
We get to the VFW kind of late, but that’s our reputation anyways so why not live up to it? Most of our friends are already there and waiting for us. We go on third. We wheel all of our amps and carry the microphone and guitars inside. We make Mark carry all the drums inside since he never does anything for the band musically and can never drive any equipment there.
All my friends and I stand on one side of the room. More and more of us show up every 10 minutes until we’re standing in a group of about 25 kids just standing on one side comprised of only my friends and then the rest of the room is kids I don’t know.
During all the bands before us we kinda just sit off to the side and talk to each other because we don’t know them and don’t really like them either. Occasionally between songs when it goes quite we’ll yell my bands name to try and make it awkward for the bands playing so they’ll hurry up and finish so my band can go on.
Finally after an hour or so the first two bands are done and its our turn to set up and rule the night. And this is my life on repeat.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Artist: Unknown
Title: Unknown
Medium: Marker on wood
Artist: Unknown
Title: Unknown
Medium: Oil on canvas
Location: USA
Artist: unknown
Title: unknown
Location: USA