still breathing painting dreaming

Another Day in Paradise

Presidential Inaugeration Day.

Today we celebrate, not because we want to but because we can. Who cares what "we did"' when we're still doing it, This is society on the brink. This is whay we are doing, and this is how we are making it happen. Live today, die tomorrow.
It really matters little; nonetheless, as we are truly celebrating a new paradigm, overall. Our age is not only defined by information and machines, but also by radical changes in perception. Our new society is unlike we've seen before. Our new ways of thinking is devouring previous misconceptions of tradition and ignorance. Our world is changing rapidly.
It is not for me to decipher or reconcile these traits. We are happy today, who cares, really?
truly.
Every thing now is manifest.

Late October

I love this time of year. Cool enough for a jacket, but not too cold. The beautiful foliage decaying. The mystery of Halloween. Everything is happening now.

Other news

I'm eating some bland soup out of a can. Maybe that's a metaphor for me, this week. At least I'm eating right:? Maybe it's about political jargon and the media. Maybe it's about society, and the world I see walking down the street. In any case, I got to change my diet or something because this crap is barely edible, but I'm hungry enough not to care too much right now.
In other news, geez, I sure am thirsty? I will leave that one open to interpretation.

A New Season to Know

The rain falls cleansing the filth and misery from the streets. A new scent fills the air invigorating our senses, enlivening our hearts. The Light shines through the murk and the mire, promising to fulfill our desire. The machines rest. We can open our tarnished hearts to bigger and better collaborators of love. We can bring in the grace and goodness now that has heretofore eluded us on our blind journey to the nether regions and back. Amazingly we are still in one piece, albeit, a little bruised and battered. That old song comes on the radio, gently reminding us of the freshness and folly of our youths. A new feeling comes over us, healing us from our past. Now, the changes can begin. Consider yourself anointed, for the initation.
Inviting you to look deep inside a place you have forgotten, but remember you know.

A new day for you

Hallelujah!
Visions, dreams, movement of light and shadow. A calling from high above, or tremors in the spirit world? Too much coffee or imagination running wild? It really matters little in the face of the downtrodden. Gotta get up, get it together, stop shaking a cup, asking for hand outs. I believe in you. Get to work, and hope you get lucky. But please no more crying, moaning, and superficial judgments- give it up.

I love art.

Okay, now that the last couple weeks have suddenly come to a grinding halt after a whirlwind of artshows and festivals, I can relax and reflect. The artists' community in Chicago is vast and diverse, and with fairs like art chicago, international in scope. Sometimes, I wish I could have a little more impact or connectivity with my work, but finding an audience can be a little tricky with so many artists vying for support and trying to be heard. I simply continue to move forward. I don't have much time for kiss- ass wanna-be's or penny-anty politics, but I do have a lot of interest in quality, meaningful art from the gut, which, lately, I've seen quite a bit of, amazingly. I've written before about my pessimisstic view of the local scene, and I must say, there is a healthy element of growth and courage being presented by some of my peers.
Often, in our materialistic, market-driven society, it's easy to see art as a commodity or success equals sales. But that is not true in the poetic nature of art. There is an aura which cannot be suppressed to great art, even if it doesn't sell. Sometimes, not selling can even be good for some artists, keeping them hungry, testing their fortitude and integrity. True artists do not succumb to the illusion of market-value, and forfeit their honest position, for a buck. There are those who do, and I think it's pretty transparent, to see through their shallow skin and lack of spine. Easily forgettable crap from a lowlife scumball-congrats- you shit artist, you've successfully demeaned yourself, and endangered the entire sanctity of art for your preciously deformed ego, which aches from your own self-abuse.
I love art.
Congtulations to the artists who wage war with their art, and are not undermining their own creativity, passion, and integrity.

Geez...

It was quite an exciting weekend, I am totally exhausted. SO much has been going on. It all can be just too much. Besides, I Am ARTChicago.

Art star galaxy

The noise roars through the airwaves like glasses crashing on the cold kitchen floor. A quick look-see, take a breath. Oh, it's only me. Why bother with these words, we live in the world we see. It matters little, if not at all, if anyone even likes it. Ah contemporary art. You put the "contempt" in contemporary art. There must be another way, a different manner of egocentric destruction for one to waste time than this. Maybe better to run with the mimes, mimicking each other in an absurd dance of monkey-see-monkey-do of style and fashion and corporate suggestions of what's cool and promoting it as THE NEXT BIG THING. Well. it ain't you baby. Does everyone's opinion count? Of course not but we keep telling each other it does. Does anyone genuinely like or believe in these hypocrisies? Well what is genuine, right ?
There has got to be a better way. Take my hand, I will show you the mysteries of the universe.

Another Beautiful Day

It rained. My new painting is brilliant if you don't mind me saying so, myself. Lightning like brushstrokes punctuate the canvas and softly dissipate into a haze. The colors of rust and earth diffuse into soft shapes. The dreamlike fantastical realm of almost unearthly silence.

Please enjoy...

Yo Blog!

Spring is in the air finally. Change is near and I'm ready! Guess I forgot to blog for awhile. Painting has never been better. My new website is starting to take shape, at www.joesikora.com. Trying to link all these sites together. Well back to business for now.

art zombies

There seems to be a lack of interest or criticism online for Chicago art and artists. How boring, to have so much art all around, with no one brave enough to comment upon it, or willing to exchange in dialogue. I've been looking for this for some time but can't seem to find much of interest. Perhaps, no one really cares anymore, or wants to sound ignorant discussing trends and innovations in the artworld. Through my activities with exhibiting artwork I've noticed plenty of good art and artisans but not usually in museums or galleries, these cronies seem to be in concensus with who they want to celebrate each year, and to hell with the rest. It's a damn shame really, with so much interesting work being overlooked and so much crap being trumpeted as some kind of new masterpiece. Maybe this is all indicative of society in general which is consumed with celebrity news and blind to a self-defeating war which is destroying our nation on nearly every level. Maybe art really is dead, just some zombie of the past they just can't kill, like they did with writing and theater. It's all some sham, somehow. I'd just like to find some enlightened souls to discuss these art ideas with maybe change the world. At least have some kinda dialogue about art that's not trite.

In Between

The phantom image materializes through the ether, like static on the screen. Suddenly, nothing is what it seems. It is difficult to surmise the possibility of such circumstance, when the likelihood is happenstance. However, now the time awaits to realize our fates, in this chilling time, when the possibilities run through our minds. There are too many questions to ask, for the answers to make any sense, making it seem like nonsense. We can give tribute to the phantom machine, which comes so close and in between the obstacles of our present view, whose work will stop before we do. There should be no questions asked if we can't forget about our past, " Let it go," the phantom says, " I always live and win in the end," I say " What the hell does that mean?" "The answers are found in between, this and that, where two bodies meet, between surface and deceit." Still, I don't really understand what he said, and I can't get this image out of my head.

New Evolution

A certain kind of love and acceptance prevails. This is our new evolution, how we are beginning to change our consciousness, and become more spiritual beings. This is the way our society is in the process of becoming; transcending to another higher level of jouissance. Our collective reasoning is a sort of litmus test for our chances at survival. As this trend continues, it may be possible to unravel the entire web of deceit which surrounds us and threatens our very existence. We don't want war; we all want to be loved, so let's send these leaders and warhawks to the front lines, and keep our land for lovers and freedom. Learning how to love and be loved that may be the most essential key to our future. The alternative is self- destuction, in a kind of annihilation of the entire planet sort of way.

Vanquished

O yes there are trials and tribulations in this life sometimes, but these are the things which separate the weak from the strong. These struggles, and the victories and defeat they bring, must be embraced, and inevitably, released. We all don't want to cry or hurt anymore; we must surrender and keep moving on. These mindfucks will do exactly that if we cannot learn to walk away. Tomorrow, next week, sooner or later there will be another war waged, another battle to be had, but living in constant preparation for these moments will wear you down. Look on the brightside, live in the moment of ecstatic mania and discover that these wars are only of the mind, most of these battles are your own. Stop killing yourself slowly with these contemptuous thoughts, for they will invariably become the physical cancer which eats and decays your body in much the same way.
Variety is the spice of life, and I like mine extra spicy, if you know what I mean. May the mindfucks be vanqiushed.

Unveiled

Sometimes it seems that anythimg is possible. Why doesn't it feel lke that all the time? In every situation there are a plethora of possibilities and opportunities, even if unlikely. Why not choose the absurd? Instead of choosing what's safe or an easily predictable outcome, assume that the more adventurous route is the path less chosen. It may be the most adventageous.
Imagine a world where more people you knew did this. Especially, those whom make these kind of default judgments all the time , without reservation, those who struggle most seeing outside of the box. This box, the walls, fear- these are manmade constructs that exist only inside the mind. The universe is infinite, should not the mind be as well? Of course, it is, however, one must be open to the range of possibilities in order to be aware of them. Nothing kills creativity like negativity. As we all know, our creativity and innovation as humans is really the main thing that separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom.
We like to think of society as a group or community, something, an object, vague-mass culture, for example. Is this society not an intricate web of actual individuals, just like you and me? Well, imagine the possibility of spreading this idea simply to yourself and the majority of people you know, and those who understood passed it on, and then this cycle kept repeating itself until it reached nearly everyone on the planet. Now, what we would have is a certain type of evolution, actually a global change of consciousness. And this my friend has already begun, it's called 2012. The wheels have already been set in motion. This is the secret of the Mayan calendar. Everyone's head is going to explode with our limitless range of possibilities. Our dreams become reality. The veil has been lifted.

thank you

Thank you. Its been a wild ride but its all over now. Good bye.
Maybe we can try again later.
OK nevermind.
Alright whatever, I'm back.

BLOG BLOG BLOG

blog blog blog
blah blah blah
fragments
wasted words
waste of space
the internet is full of this stuff, but what is it? Why?
Fuck the words, build more bombs!
BOMBS BOMBS BOMBS!