Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Day 1 of temp mural

Spent roughly 4-5 hours today working on this. S'bout a third to half done. Hopefully can put in another 4 or 5 tomorrow. And then finish her up Thursday. Pretty stoked about it. I won't explain what's going on, in a couple of days it'll all be there... good grief, the suspense!

The flu is still shredding me life to bits, but I powered through it today. I couldn't take another minute lying like a salted slug in my bed. In my room. In my house. Indoors. I swear to god I've been watching the walls move.
I have some new plants, which I should photograph sometime soon. I guess that sometime is whenever I can afford a new camera, for my fucking digital broke at the Godspeed You Black Emperor show. Those bastards sucked the soul out of my Cannon. Fuck it. I forgive them.
But these god damned plants in my window sill. They are all beautiful, but one of the bastards has some small little fly infestation and every 30-40 minutes I end up clapping one as it tries to enter any one of the orifices on my face.
Ok. Time to go watch the coolest series I've ever seen called Carlos. If I last 20 minutes I'll be surprised.

Saturday, April 2, 2011


I am sick. Again. The frequency of unfortunate health conditions for me is preposterous at this point. I have the flu, which is nothing to fuck with. I've never had the flu, but figured it to be something like the common cold. I didn't realize how fucked up you can get from a 103 fever and what type of muscular pain ensues from head to toe. My body is constantly in a frenzy, either sweating profusely or bone chillingly freezing. There is no respite, even with ibuprofen. The ibuprofen actually helps to bring on the heat. Needless to say, this has fucked up my weekend. I was supposed to have worked and made hella cash, and made a mural. Instead I lie pathetically in my own sweat watching documentaries or the walls breathe. I did play 2 shows back to back, and I wasn't feeling all that great either of those days, so maybe this is payback. Both of the shows were worth it though. The first was a solo acoustic set with Des Ark, Pygmy Lush, and local greats, Slow Teeth. All were awesome, but Pygmy Lush fucked my whole night up. An amazing band. The day after was with Carrion Spring, Hang the Old Year and Lumber Lung. That show was fuckin awesome.
But I was an idiot that night. I knew I was getting sick, so I did what I used to do when I was a teenager. I drank a bunch of booze and thought it'd kill whatever was writhing inside of me... which worked countless times in my youthful past. But the flu don't give a fuck.
And this sickness comes only a couple of weeks after our tour, which I unsurprisingly (somehow) ended up in an Oakland hospital for 2 nights. I am guessing I worked myself to exhaustion the last 2 weeks before we left for tour, and through exorbitant deprivation, put myself into the hospital. We had played one of the best shows of Carrion Spring's existence that night at the Yellow Room, with such rad bands like Calculator and Matsuri, and then went off to continue the party. The partying was pretty tame and eventually by 2 am or so laid myself down on one of the bench seats in the van. Within minutes I realized my heart was racing at some unfathomable pace, and noticed I was going white and blue. I began shaking uncontrollably and could hardly breath. I thought I was somehow about to die... that was it, this was death. I hadn't ever felt anything like this before, and it felt incredibly wrong. So luckily, Thom was in the van as well and he drove me to the ER. After a lot of bad interactions with the ER unit, they finally found that I was possibly having what's called atrial flutter, or something of the like. My heart rate was recorded over 180 beats per minute. My typical sitting heart rate is usually in the low 50s!!! So I was administered 100 volts to the heart through defibrillators. I don't remember too much after I arrived at the hospital, but it was pretty insane.
And now I lie all phlegm and sweat in my bed, fevered and useless. It's just not fair!
So I just had to send an email of my "artist bio" for this upcoming mural, which ain't anything to flip over, but is nevertheless a rad little opportunity to work big. At a time, and for the most part still do hate writing artist bios. But I've come to realize that doing this can function as a moment to reflect on how far you may have come along since the last time you wrote one. I think an artist bio is like that of product packaging. In only so many words you have to convince the viewer of the content's legitimacy... because there are so many of the same product, just a different label slapped on it. I think an artist needn't an explanation of the ingredients. But, the people still demand to see what's behind the mask. So it's fun to work with that. This was the bio-
My name is Adam Brock Ciresi and I am from NY. I've lived in Portland for 4 years now, and am entering my final year studying at PSU. I am 27 years old, and will probably live to see 28. I make music of varying styles in varying projects, just as I enjoy doing the same in painting and other forms of art. If there is anything I've ever truly related with, it is punk. But I find this interesting to use, because I feel if someone reads this they may immediately think of some preformed person, covered with safety pin piercings, studded leather,a 4 foot green mohawk, a CBGB's shirt, a torn up pair of Converse, so on and so forth. For such a large majority of people, this is probably and sadly the case. And this is capitalist consumerism, where an image is rendered into a commodity, and then spewed back into society for all to place on themselves like a mask. People pay good money for this! For me, I see my formative years as an "artist" as a means to resist this type of life.

So I am stoked for this term at PSU... for a change! I am taking a life drawing class again, with a teacher I love. I am taking a painting class with a cool teacher who is letting me making 8 paintings all together for the term. This will be good, I right now need the discipline for sure. The other class, a 100 level theory based class seems like it will be ok, mainly because the teacher seems pretty rad.
I am glad to know I will be doing nothing but producing art work for the next 10 weeks. And then I will need to find a way to survive this summer in Portland. Gulp.