The IRITIS ABSTRACTS Series – THE IRITIS COLLECTION 2013
Collection: THE IRITIS COLLECTION.
Collection History: Sept – Nov 2013.
Series Title: IRITIS ABSTRACTS.
Series Number: 3.
Works in Series: Three.
This has nothing to do with my series, IRITIS ABSTRACTS, but I just realized that I have crossed over 100,000 Views for my blog – DING! – 100,070 to be exact. I don’t know if that is anything big, probably not since some photographers get 50,000 or more visits to their website or blog every month (e.g., Joe McNally).
OK, I guess for me it is a big deal since I have no fame. Thus, for this unknown Photographic Artist it is pretty good, and I WASN’T going to say “Emerging Photographic Artist“. I’m not even sure what “Emerging” means?
What is that…”Emerging?”
When I hear “Emerging” and “Artist” used in the same sentence I automatically visualize someone coming out of the ground, like some creature from beyond “emerging” from the tombs of the deep, or something like that. I get shivers when I see that hand with the dirty, cracked fingernails sticking out of the ground, and maybe a finger bone showing where skin used to be, ARGH! Yeap: that picture pretty much freaks me out. So anyway…Why not just refer to lesser-known artists as…Artists?
And, I’ve been bothered by something else (so many things really, but this stands out). Why do Photographers always have to tell you that they are “Photographers”? In addition, Photographers usually must place the word “Photography” on their works, and websites, and it must also be in the URL of their Internet address. Let’s use Billy Bob as our example: he would naturally put, “Billy Bob Joe Briggs Photography.” And I must ask: “Why is that?”
Isn’t it obvious that when you are looking as a photograph, the viewer already knows it is a photograph? And, wouldn’t the artisan who created the photograph be a “photographer”? It is implied and somewhat obvious that when you see a photograph, the viewer already knows a Photographer made the work.
Painters don’t go around labeling their works with: Billy Bob Joe Briggs – Painter. Painters sign their name…only…and maybe their name and the year the work was done. I’m not sure why this bothers me, but it does for some reason. Just think if Painters did the same thing throughout history:
“GROG – Cave Painter – 4,000 BC – Check out my Cave Woman Etchings!”
“Van Gogh – Master Painter – ‘Good Grief! Couldn’t people have seen what a talent I was when I was alive – for God’s Sakes!!!'”
“van Dyck – Master Painter – Check out the awesomeness of my subjects’ clothing in the paintings!”
“John Singer Sargent – Just Master Painter.”
You see: Painters throughout time never did that!
And, I’m not sure where this is coming from, but here’s a quote you can live by:
“Don’t believe everything you see on the Internet.”
Abraham Lincoln (said that – and Honest Abe was one smart cookie! 🙂 )
So, we have Billy Bob and his various professional occupations:
Billy Bob Joe Briggs – Plumber.
Billy Bob Joe Briggs – Brain Surgeon.
Billy Bob Joe Briggs – Gynecologist.
Billy Bob Joe Briggs – Rocket Scientist.
Billy Bob Joe Briggs – Photographer.
“Billy Bob Joe Briggs – Dude with a Mechanical and Electrical Device Used to Capture Light that Reflects off of everything to one degree or another to create visual representations of what the device is pointing at.”
Ah-Ha! Maybe I could put that one on my photos, and also register that as my new URL! Well, note to self: Replace your name in place of Billy Bob’s.
I don’t care: Really! My whole way of seeing things is royally-fracked up now anyway [yes, I am a fan of the newest rendition of Battlestar Galactica. What happened to the NEW series in the BG franchise, the prequel, “BLOOD & CHROME”?
I’m a bit grumpy now. I guess I’m having trouble getting use to a new-normal.
“George! Wipe that dirt off your face, man, come on this is a portrait session! Oh wait, sorry George, the dirt is in my eyeball, my apologies. Let’s continue. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE GET ME SOME BUG SPRAY, THESE DAMNED MOSQUITOES ARE DRIVING ME FRICK’EN INSANE!”
- Have you ever listened to Wolfgang’s “Requiem” at 6AM? It seems very lively. I should have that as my alarm in the morning.
But that is nothing compared to NEVERMORE‘S “This Godless Endeavor.” which is, in my opinion, the best Metal album ever recorded.
NEVERMORE – “BORN”
Track 1 from the album “THIS GODLESS ENDEAVOR.”
Video is Live at WACKEN 2006.
And it gets heavier thereafter.
Now for the IRITIS ABSTRACTS Series:
Have you ever had one of those, “Where the hell is my razor?” mornings?
Well, I’m living it right now. So, where the hell is my razor? It was RIGHT HERE yesterday!
Yeah: Have you ever noticed that when you lose something, that it was ALWAYS “RIGHT HERE” before you lost it.
Where is “Right Here,” exactly?
“Well, it must be right here, that’s where I left it!” You motion with wild-flinging arm gestures.
Please let me explain the meaning of, “Right Here“: “Right Here” is, anywhere in the house: Not outside, but inside the house.
No, TO BE TOTALLY HONEST, Yesterday, I took my razor outside and buried it in the front yard, as I normally do, and to be on the safe side, I stuck a huge wooden stake in the ground, in the place where I safely buried my razor. I also use that sharp wooden stake to poke at any EMERGING Artist Zombies who are waiting to stick their dirty-fingernail’ed hands out of the dank and musty earth to grab me – eat my brains – and then naturally, I transform into an Emerging Artist Zombie! You see – I have the whole thing planned out. Well, you fail to plan, and thus, plan to fail. Not this time, NO SIREE BLUB! I got this whole zombie global take-over thing all figured out.
THAT BEING THE CASE: NO, I NEVER take my razor OUT THERE for safe keeping, because the dirty-hand will likely take my razor and I’ll never see it again.
So, “Right Here” means inside the house…somewhere…not outside…outside is, “OUT THERE“…NOT “Right Here!”
So, we have established that I left my razor, “Right Here,” not “Out There.”
And, it is also obvious that it is not my fault, “Someone Else” misplaced my razor!
So, “Someone Else” misplaced, lost, or stole my razor that was clearly placed “Right Here,” and not “Out There”…somewhere.
After hours upon hours upon hours of lost energy spent searching with no results, you then fall into a Gollum-Rage: “Where is My Precious!” You scream!
And then, you obviously fall over the lip’s edge of a volcano’s mouth, and die in a very fiery and painfully quick death. Or not…..
Well, it could happen…nothing is impossible you know.
So, where was I…