appetite for apathy

Whimsical.

Fri, 23 Mar 2012 17:09:00 -0400

Whimsical.

open your eyes.

Mon, 21 Nov 2011 18:12:12 -0500

concrete logic behind occupy movements. for those of you ignorant to or skeptical of its purpose, have a look. it is indeed essential that information as this occupies our minds. our homes. our schools. people need to be slapped in the face with awareness.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1gKX9TWRyfs&fb_source=message

60 days.

Mon, 14 Mar 2011 23:30:07 -0400

60. This number represents the amount of days I have been unemployed…

Quitting a job where I had been overworked, under appreciated, stressed, and lifeless gave me no greater satisfaction. Speaking my mind. Being heard. Loud. Direct. I was inspired and a part of me that had died was reawakened.

In the beginning, my body was allowed to melt. I submersed myself into the power of time off. No mixing. Customers. Service. Complaints. Nothing. I was alone. Quickly, I was reintroduced to a side of myself that I had lost. Nostalgia flooded my soul and I grasped tightly to the company of faded memories that once made me feel most alive. I felt it. Passion. Inspiration. Creativity. All slowly seeping back into my pores. Every inch of my fiber was being possessed. The feeling was intoxicating as such energy, that had been stored away, regained control. For me, that was acknowledgement. For me, that was reality. In that moment, I knew what I was born to be. All of the struggle. Internal conflict. Sleeplessness. Hate. Love. Dedication. Sweat. Blood. Emotion. It all molded into one harmoneous moment of clarity. A word so potent, I could taste it on my tongue. My senses tingled as my heart and mind collaborated effortlessly. With piercing screams, they demanded acceptance. The adrenaline paralyzed my fear as I surrendered each hesitating thought. Right there, I came to terms with who I was. I was an artist.

For the first time, I had accepted it. I embodied it. The past allowed me a good practice. While studying, I could speak the language and generate work of substantial quality. I’d argue theory and philosophy with reasonable intellect, but that was merely scratching the surface. Publicly, I’d wear a disguise. As if a chameleon, I’d adjust my color to the surrounding personality. I was a product of my environment. But this time. This time was different. No more hiding. The mask concealing my identity was torn and exposed was nothing but raw, organic expression.

Regaining confidence and stability, I needed direction. I needed an environment which cultivated and encouraged this fire. In order to prevent a divorce from this love, this talent of mine needed to be exercised and applied. So that I did. I applied. and applied. and applied again. In fact, Im currently repeating the application so frequently it is nauseatingly habitual.

I own a feeling of such certainty. It’s infused into my character and radiates boundlessly. However, this redundancy of begging for discovery becomes a weight. There appears to be limited opportunity for such a limitless mind. This restriction leaves me breathless as I eagerly continue my journey to shatter the surface and push forward. It is my hope to be able to share. To infect. Inspire. Collaborate. And communicate, while continually absorbing knowledge to aid in the shape and development of my creativity. As I desperately try preserve strength in my efforts, my motivation is constantly challenged.

Today marks the 60th day of being unemployed. Yes, put bluntly, it sucks! Limited funds plus monthy bills equals budgeted living. An equation I havent been all too familiar with. However, with sacrafice comes wisdom. I have discovered there is true power in time off. It allows for rejuvination, relaxation, and reflection. This combination yields compelling results. If it werent for these days, I would have not had the opportunity to search deep within myself. My passions refused to be smothered. I listened as they cried. I reacted in faith. Now, as I advance forward in my journey, I’ve established definition. I visualize purpose. And in time, somethings got to give.

Print. Packaging. Identity. Contemporary.

Thu, 03 Mar 2011 11:46:00 -0500

Check it out!

www.coroflot.com/brianhastings1487

Reawaken the Ashes.

Sun, 09 Jan 2011 02:29:00 -0500

For me, I’m in this temporary place. Its time to rise above. Transcend time and space. No clue where I’ll land or who I’ll be, but it’s a feeling burning deep inside of me. A time for change to create my way, raise up my voice loud and say, I have purpose! I am here! Listen up or disappear. I have faith. Its been shaken and broken, yes, but I have hope, and that is my very best. Ill rise up for all to see. Escape this tormented reality. Soon enough, my hour will come, so for now, what’s done is done.

http://www.elizabethgilbert.com/Lucky_Jim.pdf

Mon, 25 Oct 2010 23:49:22 -0400

http://www.elizabethgilbert.com/Lucky_Jim.pdf

Still Standing.

Thu, 07 Oct 2010 14:00:36 -0400

Who am I? What is this? Who is he? Who is she? What are they? It’s standing in my way. Free to choose. Right to care. Yet, surrounded by so much despair. Given time. Watch the clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tick. Tock…..Stop. Time is gone. Where’d it go? Explore places unknown. Experience. Dare to dance. There is no second chance. Be vulnerable. Take a risk. No harm in just one kiss. I wear a mask of many men. Who am I? Am I them? Fantasy. Reality. No separation for me. Leap of fate. Destiny. Good Lord, can you show me, who you are. Are you real? Some things I just cant feel. A mystery. Questioning. Is there an ending? Infected me, like a disease. Seems to be no cure for me. Moving on, like a machine, directed and conforming. Expectations seem so high. Pressure. Stress. Suicide. A world of money meaning more. I’d rather be poor. Keep my mind. Think aloud. Standing above the crowd. Innovate. Originate. Rejecting such an ignorant state. Take me home where I belong. I’ve been searching too long. If there’s not anything more, what are all these thoughts for?

Why do people always approach me in every store I'm in asking me questions as if I work here?

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 16:54:14 -0500

mixedupmemory:

(via realizethelies)

So awkward. Happens at Urban Outfitters all the time.

hA! hA! Happened to me twice at Gap two days ago.

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Mon, 28 Dec 2009 16:49:44 -0500

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Wed, 23 Dec 2009 00:07:36 -0500

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Wed, 23 Dec 2009 00:06:43 -0500

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Fri, 18 Dec 2009 23:00:00 -0500

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Fri, 18 Dec 2009 22:58:08 -0500

Do you exist?

Fri, 18 Dec 2009 18:28:23 -0500

Throughout the course of my years, I have encountered an interesting variety of individuals. All of these interactions and introductions mean something or so the common phrase ‘everything happens for a reason’ justifies. My connection with each contains its own unique energy in terms of chemistry, humor, level of comfort, intellect, and respect. The fascinating thought that visits my brain is how these developments are created. Why is there a longing for acceptance and what drives the soul to instinctively surround itself with such company?

As if an actor; I find myself as someone who can adapt to the potential within each face, within each character I detect. Why do I strive for such a condition, for the approval of the next pair of eyes staring into mine? Perhaps it is written in my genetics; an error in my composition? However, with each successful connection, I grow unsatisfied, search for flaws, and without hesitation petition an escape. Through this pattern, I prevent myself from obtaining any form of commitment. I am seeking a perfection that may not exist. Do you, or are you just a concept that I have been programmed to desire through popular belief? Am I left to settle for less, or have I just simply held this fantasy in too high of a regard to recognize what is in front of me?

What goes around.

Thu, 17 Dec 2009 00:53:00 -0500

The audacity of a single person with such tendencies and characteristics of a weasel, a serpent, and imbecile should be simple to suffocate and send into extinction without a single ounce of regret. Logic would enable such an action to be carried out, yet somehow this situation has more loop holes than I have patience for counting. The manipulation and hypocracy of a clown, a wannabe, low life, no talent, sad excuse for an artist, who doesnt even deserve such a title has ruined and exhausted the lives of those he invited to be apart of his community. Jealousy is a powerful motivator when one becomes overwhelmed with feelings of inadequacy. Especially when your talent is weaker than the students you ‘attempt’ to teach, and disgustingly inferior to the professors among you. Respect is earned, not demanded! We fund your salary, and if we are unsatisfied with the services being provided, you better believe there will be something to be said about it. You forced out two of the finest instructors in the business, FOOL! Do not expect great things from yourself. Your sorry ass could be sitting in the middle of Florence, Italy, with every ounce of rich, art history at the tips of your fingers, and your pathetic mind couldnt process an intelligent thought, let alone successful piece of art. As I depart from this hell, and in no other words can this torture be described as any but, I will leave with a satisfaction in knowing I can and will gravitate towards larger and more successful venues. I will flourish and prosper and your tiny, insignifcant, midget, plaid wearing, little girl trapped inside a man’s mutant body self will continue with your psychopathic antics. You most likely will continue to be allowed because you operate under a University who tolerates such behavior. This hypocritical, demon sanctuary is obsessed with manufacturing an image of sanctity; a perfect, catholic, liberal union, who protects, serves, respects, and has the loyalties of a family, yet these creatures behind closed doors talk out both sides of their face, they are simply LIARS who are only interested in your money. These professional, degree holding dipolmats are anything but, and I am left to feel as if I have been robbed of the fortune I have invested into the so called respect of learning. I truly extend my sympathies to my best friends who are left to suffer under the stupidity of these monsters for another minute. At the end of the day, I wont be losing anymore sleep over these absurdities. I am burnt out. All of my screams have fallen on deaf ears, but one thing holds true. I do not accredit a single ounce of any of my talents to the pathetic abilities you possess. Go continue being a gossip girl, you are just an attention starved, power hungry, ego manic who is trying to compensate for having no control over your wife. So, go home where you will be whipped like the bitch that you are while washing the clothes and cleaning the house your wifes salary can afford. I can only wish you nothing more, but the best in return for all the anguish you have provided me with along with so many others, Luckily at the end of the day I AM NOT YOU! What goes around will come back and bite you so hard in the ass, and if I am not there to witness such a pleasure, enjoy the pain baby because you will get fucked so hard and wont even be able to enjoy it.

Multimedia

Wed, 16 Dec 2009 09:36:09 -0500

Multimedia

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Wed, 16 Dec 2009 09:33:00 -0500

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