So I had a dental procedure performed on my face today. EIGHT shots were given. EIGHT SHOTS. My mouth, or what I once called my mouth, is a limp, slug-like chunk of flapping skin. Don’t ask me to whistle, because it’ll look like someone’s hooked the right side of my mouth with their finger. One side means business, but the other one is still napping. A whistle means a stream of drool sliding down my chin.

I’m trying to drink my coffee, and with a sleepy form of confidence, I started out the process just like normal. You know: open mouth, apply lips to cup, inhale a little. Drink. Only that wasn’t working, and I didn’t know it wasn’t working until I felt the burn…On my chest. See my face wasn’t telling me that I was simply pouring the coffee down my face. My chest had to tell me that.

So if you see me, ignore the giant splotch on my shirt, and don’t ask me to whistle. And don’t stick anything up my right nostril, because I won’t know it.

Now that that’s explained, check it out:

Yep, our wedding photos are in and we’re going through the process of picking and choosing. And it’s not easy, since the photography is completely stellar. I’ll be sure to post more once we get our own copies.

Aubrey is pretty much the most photogenic person I’ve met :) Geesh.

You can check out a few more pictures here. We’ve got about 500 of them to choose from, so be sure to check back.

Lately you might notice that my entries have been all about making things simpler. I’m sure that’s because I have a tendency to complicate, and this is my way of balancing. Still, I think it’s common for creatives to complicate things, to make more out of a situation than it really is. In a sense, that’s what creativity is, seeing things differently…creating something out of nothing. So shoot me.

My newest practice in simplicity is to stop analyzing. Trend studies, swelling and swooning in the market. Style analysis. Stuff like that.

And by stopping the analysis, I don’t really mean stop. I mean instead of making such a practice of studying it, shouldn’t we just be absorbing? I mean really if you feel so detached that you find yourself having to imitate a trend, there’s always going to be something missing.

Here’s what I mean: Say I’m really into creating artwork for CD covers for some Folky Indie Bands. Say for example, Folky Indie Bands are just HUGE right now and if you do artwork for them, you’ll get rich (this is obviously hypothetical). Now, you’re probably only going to succeed in this area if you’re in tap with what Folky Indie Bands want, right? And how do you get in tap with this? Well, you probably happened to have liked Folky Indie Bands already, and you’ve been living the life for years. You go to their shows, you buy their records. You check out their show posters. But you do it out of an inherent interest, not because it’s a trend. You would do it anyway, even if you weren’t creating artwork for them. You do it for love of the music, man!

Of course this philosophy can get more complicated. If you’re going to succeed as an artist, you can’t pigeon hole yourself into one specific category. So how do we appeal to all of these markets and still live it naturally?

That’s tough to do if you think about it too much. For me I’ve mostly chosen to go into book jackets and CD covers. Both are plentiful, but both are tough to get into and don’t particularly pay well (well, book covers still pay pretty well, but CDs? Nah.). In a way these are the same thing: All consist of story-driven content, all have a title, and all have authors who care dearly for the stories they are telling. This works for me, since have a mini-obsession with stories. I read about 36 books per year or so, watch endless amounts of movies, have an extreme love of lyrics, and play dorky story-driven video games. I’ve also written a couple of novels myself, one of which I plan on publishing in the upcoming months. So, I think it’s natural that I translate my artwork to story-based products. Being out there and picking up books and checking out CD artwork out of pure interest (and not because I want to latch onto a market) automatically makes me aware of the trends. I’m absorbing them automatically. On the opposite end, I’m getting a kick out of taking something purely from my (or someone else’s) imagination, and turning it into a fully realized visual.

Anyway, being IN the market, in turn, leaves a residue. We go back and sit in front of our computers or easels and all of the sudden we’re using the right colors, and we’re painting the right things. Somehow we just know what looks good (except on the rough days, of course). It works the same with writing. You can’t be a great writer unless you’re a good reader. I’m a heavy believer in that.

In the end, I’d rather filter than analyze. Absorb.

I’d rather live my life.

*Domesticated Man Tip #4356: If you like to read but don’t have the time, try audio books! Who say you gotta sit down and read the book the old fashioned way? I do it all the time and take in at least 75% of my reading this way. You say it’s not actually reading? You say I’m cheating? I can verify that listening to the book is just as effective as reading it, save for taking in the grammar and prose itself. From a storytelling aspect, however, it’s at LEAST as good, if not better. On top of it, you can do daily chores and yardwork while you listen! Get all the crap done around the house and still study the craft. Nice.

So I was curious after editting my last post, and made the mistake of reading some really ancient postings on PTV, circa 2006. What a difference 2 years makes. In a way I’m really glad my site is so ghetto-janky that viewers can’t even read old entries. There’s been a lot of changing in this artist.

Funny how as my personality grew and matured over the past 2 years, so did my artwork. It’s directly fused with my own growth, and the more focused and centered I became, well… Same seemed to happen with my work. To me it all makes sense. In the past 3 years I’ve gone from Chaotic Bachelor Intern (dirty dishes, excessive drinking, ramen noodles, wrinkled clothes) to Married Man and Home Owner (still have wrinkly clothes though.).

For the most part I’m feeling pretty centered. There’s one nagging concern that I can’t go into here, but I’d have to say I’m doing pretty well.

As many of you know it’s hard to look back, especially at something so direct and indicative of who you were (like reading past journal entires, for example). But that’s what it’s all about. Personal growth.

And growth and blog and growth. I’m tired of saying those two words. Especially the word ‘blog’. Is anyone else sick and tired of that word? I even hate the way my mouth feels when I say it. it’s like I’m speaking some sort of ancient gay word from the goblin kingdom.

Whatever. Maybe I’m not quite balanced yet, but I’m close.

Returning to art news, I’m patiently waiting for feedback on a book cover I designed for Random House. Not to shabby a gig, but man I always hate the period between feedback. Also, in case you didn’t know, the CD packaging I designed for the Chicago band 2*Sweet is finished and arrived just before the wedding. Check out some photos I took by clicking here.

You can also order your own copy here. And, last of all, if you find yourself in a bookstore, check out the July edition of Alternative Press Magazine, where they have an interview of the CD (with my artwork included :)

I’ve noticed a phenomenon when it comes to maintaining a blog, especially for those that steadily gain more and more readers. Even moreso for authors who have a dayjob. At first I thought it was only my problem, but I’ve noticed it with friend-bloggers also.

When you first start a blog, if you’re the true blogging type, you most likely do it because you feel like you HAVE to. You’ve got a lot to say, and you’re tired of holding it in. This is why a lot of blogs are full of anger and frustration (at least it seems so), though the better ones seem to be from authors that have something to share, to educate, and are equally driven in helping others. Me, I think mine has veered in both of those directions and probably many more. And that’s sort of why I’ve gotten into trouble. Consistency is important, but who are we consistent to? I’m a pretty eclectic person, so inconsistency, in a way, is my way of being consistent to myself. Right? Am I overthinking this?

Here’s something really important that dictates the tone of a blog, and I think this is universal. When you write, you almost always have someone in your head that you’re writing to. In the beginning it’s easy. You’re writing for you. You’re giving release to that nagging little voice that never seems to get it’s time in the real world. It’s a rush really…all of those thoughts you’ve always had are FINALLY getting out. And holy crap anyone can read it.

Then something scary happens. People DO read it. Then they give you feedback. They might disagree, they might criticize, they might even be offended. Somewhere along the line you start to censor yourself (not as in bad language, but subject matter and tone). It starts to fall into shades of gray, and you might wonder just who you’re writing for. Little readers pop up into your head and tell you that they might not appreciate what you’re writing. Do you censor? Do you stifle the voice that made you start the blog in the first place?

I don’t have much of an answer for that, since everyone needs to govern themselves differently. To me, a blog is an organic entity. It’s gonna change over time, and maybe those people you’re writing to are the one’s to dictate the change, along with a big helping of life-changes and your own personality growth. The blogs that fail, in my opinion, are the one’s that think about this too much, or force something from the get-go. They only exist because blogging is a trend (Bleh. I shudder to type that phrase). They over-analyze and ask this question: What do the masses want from a blog? It happens in every movement: The people who care about it do it because they are passionate, and then the big guys move in and try to imitate, thus destroying the movement. (And yeah, that last bit, in itself, is me thinking too much about it. But really, who’s gonna read a Wal-mart blog?).

So I guess my only advice is this: Write for yourself, to yourself. Translate the feedback and respond to it like a conversation. Blog because you have to, and if you don’t feel like posting, don’t. Use the blog as a self-improvement tool, not a “Look how trendy I am” tool. Use common sense and at least SOME professionalism. Most importantly, don’t worry about it so much, and stop reading those “How to write a successful blog” blogs.

Even though that’s kinda what this post turned into. (*edit* Actually this probably is the exact opposite.)

*steps off pedestal.

Sterling Winery, originally uploaded by Josh Sears.

So while I was gone PTV went ahead and committed server-suicide. A little self-destruction. But, as you can see, it’s back in all it’s ghetto glory. But alas, the new site is on the way!!

More importantly, I’ve finally gotten back from the wedding excursions, and after an amazing time both at the event and the Honeymoon, I finally found the time to get back to posting.

Feel free to click around on the Flickr page (you can get there by clicking the pic above). The wedding photos are still rolling in, so check back in a couple of weeks to see them.

I do want to say that EVERYTHING went perfectly with the wedding. The weather was great, the families got along (no wrastlin’ at this wedding), and everyone really seemed to have a good time. I’m also really happy to know that I married into an incredibly awesome family and couldn’t be happier with my new in-laws.

Awesome times.

But man, I’m having a hard time getting back into the groove. Know what I’m sayin? Give me a minute and I’ll get back to work. Maybe. My brain is still caught in all of the experience of the past month. I mean, just look at that photo above. My brain is still sitting on that balcony.

So, if you’re in napa and see a pulsating lump of brain-matter… That would be mine. Please Fed-ex.

This is most likely my last post as a non-married man. Only two weeks away now, and it’s off to the honeymoon.

This is the part where things get a little crazy, so I’m gonna go ahead and shut down PTV until June, where I’ll have to get used to typing with that ring on my finga~!

Woohoo!!

Yesterday I was witness to the aftermath of a rather brutal car accident (though there were no injuries, thankfully). Brutal, I mean, by the state of the cars after said crash, and the proximity in which they occurred (just outside my window at work). I heard the crash, the moan of the jammed horn, and I prepared myself for the worst.

Luckily, like I mentioned, everyone was fine, and as I looked out from my second-floor window, the passengers were emerging from their accordian-like vehicles– frazzled, but unharmed. Airbags were steaming with expired chemicals, and particles of the vehicles were strewn in the path of the accident. Someone had run a red light, hitting a left-turner.

I watched as a young woman of 20 or so years old got out of a passenger side, hands visibly shaking even from my vantage point. It was like a grenade had just gone off, and she was in an obvious stupur. Shell-shocked. From a nearby salon, a helpful employee was running to her side, and the stranger accepted the pitiful embrace from the frightened passenger. That’s what really got to me. These strangers embracing.

I thought, “I should get down there.” But I realized that I would only be seeking some form of self-fulfillment in doing so, since everything was already, with surprise efficiency, under control.

The girls knees buckled and she started to collapse, trembling and terrified. Her hand patted at her face as if she expected it to come away covered in blood. But she was fine, just panicked from the impact of her airbag. Already the sirens could be heard, even though most of the 15 or so witnesses had cellphones at ear (most likely calling 911, I imagined). The police rolled in while perfect strangers administered the victims– calming them, offering ice and seemingly standing guard. The angry boyfriend (The driver who ran the red light) berated himself and spun around the streets with his shirt off (and I really hope that girl dumps that guy) while the other victim, a plump lady, sat crying at an opposite curbside with a wall of protective strangers keeping the shirtless man at bay. I could tell that he was trying to apologize, in his own way, but it doesn’t work when your shirt is off in downtown Centerville. Especially when it’s all your fault.

It was awful, but at the same time extremely uplifting. Especially that embrace, when the distraught woman from the car reached for help, and the stranger offerred it in the form of physical support. A crash had reduced someone to a core, primitive form of vulnerability, and it was refreshing to see the response.

I’ve had a few moments in my life where death seemed this close. Immediate even, like Death itself snapped his fingers and cursed at a missed opportunity. Just missed them. One of these three instances, Death won, and a man was killed 4 houses down from my apartment (at the time). The other, Death was in the form of a man defending himself from a downtown chase. Angry men chased him and slung racial slurs. He ran until cornered (I was walking down the street with a friend). He took out the gun as a last means, and fired into the air.

I always felt for him, as he was only defending himself from racial morons. No one was harmed, but he was arrested as the true criminals ran free. These thoughts came later of course, for during that brief panic, I was cowering behind a car, comparing the sound of the gun to those in movies. And I’m not joking around here, and this is the honest truth, but there was a stranger beside me, some funny kid that looked like he was 18 (also cowering), who jokingly said “Hold me. Please. Hold me.” And I laughed. I laughed when bullets were flying through the air, and so did he. Talk about finding humor in a bad situation.

Ah, life.

Sometimes… sometimes people don’t bother me at all.

Finally, there’s been a lull. And guess what? I got a laptop! My very on Mac Book Pro, shiny and new. I feel like a real person now. It’s found a really nice home up in the study. LOVE IT!

So, the reason for all of this downtime (for PTV) is a huge project that I just finished for 2*Sweet, a chicago-based band with a huge following. You can check them out here. I was commisioned to do not only some artwork, but the entire CD design, packaging, label, insert, front, back, spines, EVERYTHING. What came from it was by far my most ambitious project, and easily the most in-depth and fully realized. To find out more, check out the ‘process’ page on my Flickr account by clicking here. I’ve got most of the elements posted up there with bonus info. You can see the full illustration by clicking here. And just for fun, here is the mockup I put together showing what the CD will look like when someone pops it open.

Last of all, things for me an my bro continue to go well, which of course is a good thing. We recently had a feature article written on us by Freshbook’s Fresh Faces section of their site, where they showcase emerging talent and entrepeneurs. So, in preparation, Matt and I took one of those tough-looking photos where we seem to be distracted or thinking about profound issues (like twitter phrases and CSS conversion and Grande Americanos.)

Check out the article here. Thanks to Aaron and Sunir over at Freshbooks, who were very cool and fun to work with.

And so finally, as I mentioned, I’m enjoying the lull. I’m breathing pretty steadily now.

I never thought I could be intimidated by a monkey, but man, this guy’s really cool. I mean, he’s really living the life.

I was driving around town earlier during the day, when all of a sudden i saw a shock of color burst to my right. To my surprise, it was a sort of nerf machine gun, spouting off some foam balls. I was excited at first (Nerf machine guns!), until I saw the kid shooting it.

He was wearing safety goggles. So was his little buddy. They seemed to be taking turns shooting while the other stood at a safe distance from the dangerous foam projectiles.

“Now we gotta be careful Timmy. Momma says I might shoot my eye out. We’ll go in rounds. Me first. This is gonna be super.”

Pfft.

Now ok, maybe the goggles came with the gun, and I’m really hoping that’s the reason. God please tell me the parent didn’t make these kids wear the goggles. Let them be wearing them to enhance the warlike environment, let them pretend that they’re hybrid robo-warriors in a harsh environment with particles in the air that will invade their brain.

Yeah I admit, I don’t have kids, but I don’t think we give them enough credit, since I don’t think nerf balls are going to pierce his brain. At most he might get dry-eyed, meaning he would have to apply the medical procedure of closing his eye and opening it a couple times. When I grew up, putting on a pair of safety goggles meant one thing to me and my friends. It meant that we were now encouraged to shoot them in the face. And most likely we would introduce bottle rockets into our arsenal to counter-balance the face armor. We took it too. in the face. And it made us tough. The shriek of a neighborhood kid as the bottlerocket caught in his pants, and the shrill laughter of the others as we waited for the impending “POP!”, filled the streets of my childhood.

I have a bad feeling that we’re stripping our future men from any sort of constitution or resourcefulness. We’re turning them into man-boys. If I have a son that shrieks or, god-forbid, cries when I shoot him with a Nerf gun (and I will) then I’ll be highly dissapointed.