The Hardstuff

Irony, really.  It's not been easy.  Or lets say this process of recording our first album "Prepare to Scream" was a lot harder than I thought it might be.  Because the 3 of us are not "musicians" proper at all.  We're illustrators, painters, artists.  That's the mentality that went into this album.  And when you think of the whole thing being a home job, done in our "off" time, still holding our day jobs and coordinating band nights to actually get shit done and not drink all the whisky…well we done good.

Shay, Mike and I met in Art college SF in the late Nineties.  I moved in with Mike in the SF Tenderloin from my parent's place in San Jose.  I slept in the futon mattress (like taco stuffing) on the floor with the sides ramped up the walls in the closet.  I got hit on by trannies on the way to pick up six packs and boxed "Banquet" fried chicken dinners from the liqour store.  But it was a place to crash, and I could walk to class.

  I met Shay a bit later in Illustration 1 class (I think).  Never laughed so hard talking to one person before.  I think the feeling was mutual.  And he played guitar /wrote his own retarded songs like me.  Turned out he and Mike lived on Guam at the same time around high school days.  The three of us bonded quickly, hanging out, smoking, drinking shit beer, watching Batman the animated series in the Frontenac at Hyde and O'Farrell after drawing class.

I had been in a couple bands before,  Shay had been in a fun scrappy band called Dirty No Dity.  Mike was in a couple bands singing as well.  So we had this common love for rock music and we always had the little nylon string guitar around (Nylo) at any given point after class at the apartment.  Somewhere there's a recording of Shay and I signing "Man with McFarlane hands" from those days.  Inevitably we tossed around the idea of a band.  The idea was playing one minute songs involving explosions, Godzilla screams, chainsaws and "general extremeness".  It was a joke band we called "The Hardstuff".  Music made just for us by us.  We had some funny ideas, but without a place to practice we were sort of stuck with acoustic guitars and dusty casio keyboards.

Eventually my work moved from SF to Berkeley and I was looking at graduation and working full time there.  I had the opportunity through my parents to drag some art buddies into a house they bought and so we would rent.  Problem was getting SF art students to feel cozy living on the other side of the bay bridge.  Shay accepted.  Mike accepted.  The night Mike moved in, we recorded "Army of Hamsters", "Rob Liefeld anatomy" and maybe a couple other horrible songs on Shay's hand held tape recorder.  But the issue was we needed one more roommate to make rent.  Lets just say the "art house" was never fully realized and our dwelling soon turned into "the knock off frat house".  Mike moved out of the house first, once the frattys quickly douched up the communal areas.  Shay stuck around through thick and thin and we continued to work on the art team at Scilearn and non-regularly play music.  I met Tana at Scilearn around that time and she and I ended up spending a LOT of time away from the house and the chaotic conflicts of the 1691 frat "cappa alpha dickhead".  Some time after Mike moved back to SF from Ward st., Shay started writing Lobot and The Hulk upon others that would become the core songs we'd play for the next ten years.

By that time Mike was involved not only writing but playing bass and singing.  I was spending most of my time with Tana at the Delta, but also wrapped up in my band Souls of Smoke.  We all learn from our mistakes.  And that's not saying I'd take any of those years back.  They were integral to being the "musician" I am today.  And I learned an immeasurable amount of improvisation and uh, lets say social compromise.  But I had hit a wall with that "band".  And we never wrote a song...ever.  Mike and Shay started playing what became "the line up" pretty regularly.  Lobot, The Hulk, Mo Nore, Smokin' Cali and I started playing drums to songs that actually had beginnings and ends, which was a big change from the "never ending stoney jam" keys, guitar and percussion I was bouncing between with the other guys.  The idea for Zartan came a tad later as Shay and I were driving Tana's rambler back to Scilearn from the house for lunch.  It could have been Heather's backfiring Plymouth Horizon too.  I'm surprised I remember this much man.

I concentrated on drums that broke up the overdrive jackhammer riffs that came from Shay's guitar and his hell muppet voice.  With his Cobra Commander screams and "confident comedian" persona, Mike was obvious fun and a held the bass parts well while signing.  We had some damn good times, a fun 1999 Halloween and some nice video from that era as well.  The "studio" was IN the house at that point.  Soon after when we started getting into playing the few songs we had and getting them tight, Mike had to follow a job in LA.  And for years the Hardsuff was on the backburner fizzling into nothing.

Shay and I stayed tight, playing often.  Tana moved into the house in 2001 and the guys eventually all moved out as we were planning to get married and all that.  I was laid off soon after the 9/11 nightmare and took some time to study soundproofing in interest of converting the two car detached garage into a music studio of the house Tana and I now owned.  After about a year later, the studio was complete.  We moved all the instruments in there and soon after, Shay and I put it to good use.  He and I couldn't stop obsessing on The Hardstuff though.  There was some good songs in there.  Shame to lose them.  We came up with an idea to use the songs we created as a vehicle for our illustration and animation skills/interests.  And since that discussion in the kitchen we've been steadily working toward that goal.

I was thankfully rehired at Scilearn in the beginning of 2003, my daughter Jade was born shortly thereafter.  My friend Scott who used to live one house over asked if I had met his old friend Don who'd taken over rent.  I was pretty wrapped up with Jade and work but eventually I discovered that two doors down, this guy Don had his own studio set up occupying the back of his house.  We quickly made up for lost time by relaxing over at his place playing digital beats, synth keys, percussion instruments I didn't have...he had all the stuff my studio didn't.

Mike returned from LA as well.  Whammo.  The Hardstuff was back on in full effect rehearsing once sometimes twice a week with deep interest in playing shows locally.  Whiskey, song writing, laughs and sweat.  A few shows under our belts and well, it took us a long time to be able to not only know how to create music and trouble shoot that know how continuously, but to also listen to each other and work together for the sake of well, why the hell not.

Don was a breath of sharp air adding a new component to the musical nights giving Mike Shay and I a sense of "future" and moving on from these songs we'd been playing forever.  New songs were written but Mike and Shay worked the same place, lived in the same place and were part of the same band soooo things weren't always peaches and hugs when Thursday band practice came around.  After a couple years we fell into a bit of a band lull.  We were getting better and the music was sounding tighter but it was taking forever.  Again, none of us were musicians.


Despite, and for good reasons, Shay decided to move to New York to pursue his heart and career.  Again, Don was a great guy to have around the studio for Mike and I.  And we now joke around about making shirts that say "The Hardstuff now with 20% more Don!".  Before moving out of Cali though, Shay and I scrambled to record the drums and guitar tracks for an album so once and for all we could document these "rock gems".  We finally got things set up pretty haphazardly in multi-track on Garageband using 4 mics on the set, one on the guitar amp, and recorded live into an 8 track that fed into a mac laptop I was using from Scilearn.  These tracks are what's now on the album Prepare to Scream.  Soon after Shay left, I finally moved from Garageband to Apple's Logic Pro which Scilearn bought for product related sound effects work.  See, it all comes together.  In learning the application for work, I realized Logic allowed me SO much more control over the music but I also realized I was diving into a realm of digital music I really should have gone to school for.  It was a two year crash course for me in music writing, recording, editing, producing, mastering, funding, CD package design, illustration for print and in the end...enjoyment and pride.

The album is done, and not only the band name, but the album title became so appropriate and ironic that I knew it was the right call.  Like every project, there's the checklist of things that could be better.  But I paste in Tana's saying, "it is what it is" and I like what it is.  During the recording of this album, Don, Mike, Shay and I have nearly recorded another album of completely different songs in a completely different style.  And there's left over material from the Prepare to Scream sessions that will be going on yet another album.  This last week Shay flew in from New York and we synced up our CD release party with his planned visit.  Mike, Don, Shay and I hung out, ate some BBQ, drank some Jameson, put together our CDs with Jade and celebrated 10 years of art, laughs, friendship, work and music.

And that's the story in a semi-large nut shell.  I won't tell you the stories of the ice cream sandwich fight that landed Mike in the SF general hospital, or the shroomy emperor slipper and dead puppy fetus supremes, Shay's early attempts at bum communications and his egg teeth, Estella's threats to call the cops, "the band drama"...none of that.  Leaving it out.  Ten years, we made an album.  We're moving on to the next chapter as friends, as brothers.  That ride was damn awesome guys, lets hop on another!  Hopefully the line isn't as long.

And if anyone is interested in picking up the album or hearing it, please contact me and check out The Hardstuff blog for more info.  Thanks.

Some pics of Jade

So I figured since I quit facebook I should update all ya'll with some Jade pictures and tidbits.

Father's Day we went to my parent's place in Discovery Bay.  Beautiful day, brought Che (our yellow lab) and she and Jade swam for hours.  Hey dad, sorry about the pool filter which probably looked like it got a blonde tribble stuck in it after that day.

Jade hanging at Tom's Log Cabin diner after exploding her egg salad sandwich.

Those are my feet.  The hot tub works as a backyard pool for goggled dwarves.

climbing a tree...

climbing the front fence...

Done climbing.  It was Jade's wonderful idea to put the twin futon mattress from the studio into the hammock.  She's got it wired.

Cello in the backyard.

She really wanted to wear the Greedo mask to Walgreens.  Made my day...

Of course, how could a face like this not make your day?

buh bye

anybody:
I have deactivated my facebook.  I'm done.  If anybody wants to reach me, please email me.  gregory_m_allen@hotmail.com.  For any "status updates" please check this blog...though I'm not feeling real chit chatty about my status right now.

Bro.

As years gather momentum or so it seems, the age gap between friends and colleagues fizzles into meaninglessness, yet there's this hierarchy between siblings that remains from childhood.  That's what I've witnessed a lot.  I have friends that are older than my brother and I see them as equals, or more so I don't acknowledge their age as a point of respect.  I acknowledge who they are as people and respect follows in tow.  In my own situation, age wasn't really the only thing that separated Gary and I.  We're nothing alike, but we did our time in the family amusement park.  We spent some moments bickering, but it was mostly kid stuff.  Looking back from who we are now and how we haven't changed, the clothing fads trickled down to the horrible affordable Mervyn's outlet and seriously horrible things we tried to do with our hair glare so embarrassing and obvious.  At some point we both fell into who we are presently and now we share a recognition of our socially humbled pride that swims in the artery our brotherly sarcasm.  I'm pretty sure that makes sense...to me...it's late.

Once I was in high school, he was out.  Sometimes I think it would have been great to have a sibling in school with me, but blazing my own trail through public education proved to be good for me ( i think) and it's all over now anyways. 

My brother is roughly 4 years older than me.  He's had some ups and downs, learned some good life lessons and is wise enough to see that time changes a lot.  I think neither of us hold our parents responsible for any of the shortcomings we've experienced thus far.  There comes a time, you know, to accept responsibility for yourself.  Well, he still has a full head of hair so maybe I'd have more to complain about to a therapist.  Outside of genetic misfortunes, there's the life prep.  Gary and I have always known what we like doing.  Never been an issue.  Neither of us were ever bored.  We were active, but we weren't the ball players my Dad had in mind apparently.  That's what happens when you make boys with a short Portuguese woman.  Next life, 6 foot Samoan lady dad!

I was drawing from age 5, and my brother was taking apart speakers and stereos since he was old enough to hold a soldering iron.  Now, he's building his own vehicles in his garage.  And he's really good at it.  By the time I met Tana he was living in Hayward and I was making weekly trips to see him there to get out of the "frat" house that really never materialized into the artist house studio I had envisioned.  After a few encounters with Tana and I Gary said to me, "Bro, I've never seen you this happy.  Tana's a really cool girl."  And without that statement, I don't think Jade would be around today.

I've had that statement bouncing in my mind recently.  Happiness and Tana.  I'm glad we got married.  I'm glad we had Jade of course, my life will forever be changed.  Sometimes I feel like Jade would be better with a sibling, however most of the time I don't even think about it and am so happy to direct my focus on her solely. 

Gary's always had friends and girlfriends and family but from my perspective he's never really integrated himself into the lives of these people.  But me, he's always had my back, supported me and made me feel like an exceptional person.  You can't put that kind of shit on a chart.  He's the uncle I imagined Jade bonding to, but because he's so busy and lives an hour away, well he doesn't really call either...  but as Jade gets older I'm sure he'll relate to her more.  He's kind of not sure around babies.  Not enough metal.  But what I'm saying is Gary has always accepted me and looked out for me, but also completely never led me in a direction that wasn't true to what I was naturally bound for.  Mainly drawing ninja turtles.  Really though, he's one of my band's favorite fans and he doesn't want anything but paintings of odd characters.  Easy and awesome.

Yes there was the time i was stuck in the "triple wheel cage" five stories up at Great America with him and some strange chubby jet trash girl as they totally just made out in front of me like crazy and long.  And the time when he was dancing on the back deck of our parent's house and his leg broke though the board, hair flying, knee on nose...other leg straight up in the air.  Aaaaaand the time he fell asleep in the truck after my father dropped the boat off at the mechanics.  Gary wakes up and about 30 minutes later realizes the boat is gone and says "Uh, Dad...Where's the boat?!!"  Or the time we got hammered in the paddle boat at 1 in the morning at our home on the dleta and had a blast laughing the whole time paddling around the island.  And when we took the family vacation, and gary's got his headphones on wicked loud, silent plane, he looks out the windows and in a huge booming voice, yells "Hey!  Clouds!"  Classic.  Or the time he "fixed" my rockem sockem robots so their heads flew off...and never went back on.  Or when he showed tuned my radio to an underground hiphop station and showed me how to listen to music while going to sleep by putting the thing under my pillow.  Thanks man.  Or the first time we hot boxed Walt's boat listening to the Beastie Boys first album on Gabe's boombox when it was first released.  Kneeboarding, wakeboarding, slalom, barefoot, sit n ski, hand painted mini trucks, the yellow civic with the crazy system, bike ramps, bad ass bike ramps, remote control cars, the forebay, staying at Grandma and grandpa's, the farty night with grandpa, the family vacations, the shared friends, cruising el camino, Mrs. Gross, the bar tab on the cruise, Anita's breakfasts, the late night delta fires, hand drums on the levy, Jeff getting his ass pulled through the skylight and beat up in the trailer by Danielle's friend, Grandma's funeral, my wedding, and damn it it's time for another adventure, man!

There's guidelines in life that one can follow, but it you get locked up in the stark and rigid definitions of categories that people and life can fall into, you've lost it.  Fruits fall in the fruit category and cars are cars but people aren't one "thing" or another.  Always more complex.  Sometimes you wish to adopt that, sometimes their drama falls on your lap while you're trying to shit.  Roundabout way of saying, siblings, no siblings...it's your life and if you share it, be fair, remember karma.  And every life is different.  There's no "what ifs" in the hindsight dictionary.

So Gar', here's my shout out to you.    May life march on in bad times and slow down for the good ones.  I love you.  Super proud, and thank you so much for being you...to me.

Most grateful,
yer bro

Finding the light switch in the infinite maze

Years ago on our anniversary, after consuming a boat load of sushi, Tana and I perused a small antique shop in Alameda.  Inside the glass case were these delicate hand crafted plaster male and female devils.  We liked the symbolism of them and bought them, relating the drummer to me and guitarist to her.  For some reason they were hanging just above the kitchen light switch.  About the same time Tana started her affair, coincidentally I knocked these keepsakes off the wall and they broke apart.  Ironic to say the least.

 
Funny thing living here in the house.  The drama, the females.  Sounds bad, but I'm totally not sexist.  If you know me, you know that.  It's like one of those parties that takes place in your house but you feel like an outcast. But this predicament I'm in, I didn't ask for it and I need it to cool off quick before I'm no longer sensitive to the heat.  I usually try and avoid drama.  I don't run away from confrontation but of all the things I can create, pointless static isn't on the list.

    To offset the rent for Tana's apartment, we have a student living at our place.  She helps the house not feel so cold and abandoned when I'm there without Jade.  She's a sweet girl, going to school in Emeryville to be an audio engineer.  No sexual attraction here, so don't start your gossip wheels spinning you drama diggers.  And if there was an "attraction" to anybody for that matter I'd have squashed it because now is no time to adopt another person's life baggage and stir it into the bitter stew we got sitting on simmer at this moment.  But everyone knows that you don't have to be attracted to someone to inherit their drama.  There's no beating positive outlooks in horrible situations you can't see your way out of.  The alternative, the water slide of negativity, is reliable and well used but always drops off into a pile of shit if you don't jump off.  I can't say living with this person has been bliss, but at the same time I think it's helping by shaking the change out of my pockets just enough to realize there's a life to live here...right now.  And quite frankly the four of us are getting along quite well in this new "progressive" environment.  It's less stale.  More social for everybody even Jade. And there's no real negative impact on Jade.  Anybody who's been around her in the last few months can attest she's a happy little girl and everybody wants to keep it that way.

    I've been recording, editing into oblivion, and driving myself batshit in the studio pushing through 20+ songs in the last two years trying to finish an album of music from my now "former" band.  And this young woman moves into the spare room and oh hey, she's a sound engineer!  So she's agreed to help out with the final production of the album which helps me out quite a lot.  Through her school, she's connected to a flock of ambitious warmhearted musicians and audio technicians.  And as more people come into the mix, there are good times, but damn if drama keeps peeping it's fucking head in through the window.

    There's a certain amount of trust I give to people that I love.  Not "sex" love or "relationship" love.  Just love for the beauty of an individual and what their positive mark on humanity is however slight and possibly even destructive.  And I see that from the inside out now.

   Some things need to be destroyed.  Quite honestly, I'm destroying shit left and right.  Walls mostly.  Fear.  There was a time when Tana moved out and I said to myself "I can't watch The Soup without Tana.  Who am I going to share these TV and movie moments with?"  My unconscious detour away from the glowing box and back towards music and art is catching me by surprise but it seems healthy and natural.   I'm able to embrace responsibilities and juggle "down time" to a T for the first time in my life.  It's like, and I've talked to Tana about this…this experience in so many ways has helped me knock down fat invisible dams that have fucked up my potential and natural flow over time.

    Our housemate is at the house enough to now be well familiarized with Tana, Jade and my social network.  So there's the mingling of acquaintances and even the clashing of personalities. 

    Recently the housemate has started a relationship with a guy from her school who's in another relationship.  Cheating is in style I suppose?  He's younger than her, I've played music with him and more importantly have noticed how fucking nice he is.  He's positive, ambitious, a sweetheart and really crudely immature.  But he's 21 for fuck's sake.  So he's living with his girlfriend and then heading over to my house to spend time with our housemate.  And so why is this behavior again coming into my life so directly?  Maybe because I needed to see it from a different angle.  There's of course no major comparison between him and Tana, but in a small room in the corner of the cubicle these two share a similar moral dilemma, yet maybe feel a "primal right" that draws a direct correlation in judgment I don't agree with.  So of course this is a touchy nerve for me because my housemate is basically facilitating the same behavior as the guy Tana is or was with (wherever that's at right now).  And there's an unexpected compassion for that mentality from a perspective of seeing our housemate with this guy, and me witnessing her genuine interest for a new and real human connection.

   I'm in a place where my marriage is leaving limbo for the way of the wind.  And everything human about me wants to fix that.  Even rebound thoughts...moving on as quick as possible.  There's something very unsettling about the energy that exists after the breakup of a comfortable companionship.  And I look around at work and the very minimal places I choose to exist outside of the house for females I think may be the next "one".  But it's just a game.  First off, I have and have never had any game.  Two?  As I wrote earlier, it's just wrong to bring another person into this situation.  Everything logical points me in the direction of celibacy for this chapter.  On one end, I feel like maybe I should join the revolution of impulse and the pursuit of "free" love.  But as Brian Wilson wrote, "that's not me".  And with time I've learned that I don't need to feel like a pussy for not being a dog.  So I channel it into the the unfulfilled "procrastinatious" categories of creativity and projects unfinished.  It works, thank fucking god.  I just have to flip that switch.  That's exactly what it is. You can look at the switch and pace around it, roll your eyes, swear at it or you can walk right up to it and flip that bitch on and get on with yourself while your eyes adjust to the the blinding light which is so necessary to see clearly what's in front of you.

    Again there's Jade.  Always and foremost Jade.  Tana and I have hit ground, bounced and ended up on our asses still holding Jade up in the air virtually unscathed and possibly better off in the midst of her ever changing needs and blossoming individuality.  It's a tricky teeter totter of what's best for her given this situation.  This is what it is, and it's comforting that despite my callous building over anger and disgust, Tana and I still have each other through it.  It's like at times we're forced to fight each other, but we're being respectful of where we're punching.

    Big thing is no matter what, we continue to make sure Jade, within this drama, is supported, loved and knows that we both love her and who her family will always be.

  One of Tana's boyfriend's friends called the house asking for him a couple weeks ago.  In anger, I turned to facebook and found the guy on her boyfriend's friend list.  She said she didn't know who he was, but somehow it got back to "boy wonder" that I was digging into his personal online rolodex.  Whatever, fuck it.  I wasn't obsessing, just wanted to back up my stance on respect.  So the next day her boyfriend sent me a "friend request" out of spite and immaturity.  Using the request to my advantage, I sent him a message saying basically two things.  We both love Tana in some way so lets keep an eye on her well being and try to calm down the emotional tug of war.  Second and foremost, I don't want anybody moving into a fathering role with my daughter.  Especially some guy that thinks splitting a family up is a good idea.  To sum up his response, he agreed and surprisingly we shared a strange vein of sympathy for each other, despite the sex and betrayal and absence of morality which seems to prevail.  And my housemate is in this situation where she's got this guy in her corner, but he's too scared to break off his commitment to this other person he shares a life with.  Or he just doesn't want to break it and this having and eating of cake seems justified.  And given anybody's individual perspective and timeline of unfortunate events, most "wrong" actions are justified somehow.

    I didn't ask for any of this.  I really don't want it and frankly it disgusts me.  The whole scene.  But in this infinite maze, I can sit, sulk, and curse the complexity, or I can walk and hit the walls and face the mistakes.  I'm walking.

BarFly

Why he has pointy ears?  I don't know.  I don't get out much.

Yoda drops a notch.

Reconnecting with the blank canvas.

I think there's some sort of energy in (at least American) society that tells people to fuck over artists because they need tension and drama to produce great art.  That's not true.  Or whatever it is, lets pay the artists and teachers the fat wads and let the ballplayers run around chasing balls for cheap because, they'd do it anyways and it seems a bit unbalanced to say the least.  So if you have that misconception or if you know an artist, give him or her a huge hug and say "thanks for your small part in pushing our culture to a new level!"  Unfortunate events happen to everybody.  But for me, a sensitive guy with an overactive imagination and an anxiety disorder, all things seem a bit more amplified.  A gift and a curse depending on the situation.

So a couple months ago Tana's getting Jade into stringed instruments and classical music on youtube and whatnot. She asks Jade if she wants to play the cello and if she wants one for christmas.  Jade says "yes!".  I think it's a great idea and so Tana makes one of her famous craigslist purchases and soon after I'm coming home from San Jose with a cello on a rainy Sunday night.

When I get home Tana tells me she's cheating on me with a violist she met a few weeks prior and that she loves him and is going to continue seeing him.  I am surprised I didn't die right there in the family room.  Total shock.  Panic attack on top of living nightmare.  And the shit storm began.

Actually I jumped on the guilt train believing that I did this wholly.  And of course I had fault in this happening but I didn't "do" this.  Then I got online and bought an e-book on how to save your marriage, which should be a book everybody reads BEFORE they get married and every year following.

Obviously too late.  Tana's mom was in town for Christmas.  I hung out with her while Tana spent the day packing her things and sneaking out the door to her new apartment.  Her boyfriend is living there with her.  Now he's picking her up in front of the house and they go out and do their thing 5 nights a week.

I'm happy staying home with Jade.  I've sort of missed out on sleeping next to her.  And the added responsibility is great because I can do it and I'm happy to.  Tana still takes care of Jade during the day and most school mornings she's back at the house at 6 am getting things ready for Jade.

I'm lonely at night.  Super duper lonely.  I had Tana every night.  And we hung out every night and laughed and talked.  And I looked forward to it.  Still she seemed physically and emotionally guarded and slowly like she was unhappy and just stuck in the mundane.  But I was there.  Listening and talking and helping her though life.

As many of my close friends know after a really stressful year or two at work two years ago I developed an anxiety disorder.  It took a year to properly diagnose me and many horrible prescriptions, side effects (tremor, cramping stomach and muscles, twitching, restlessness,  racing heart, depression...) and withdrawals (fuck me) from those then ramping up on another to finally get me to a point where I could just be me 84% of the time.  Still I was working hard and really getting my shit done.  And after fighting for so long I start feeling mentally good and actually better than before, then whammo!  She hits me with this.  And there's so much to process.  I know what I did wrong but what did I do to her to deserve THIS?  And if she just wanted out, there were better ways to do it.  More respectful ways.

I've never ever been hurt this much in my life.  But I have Jade here and I really really don't want to get into a custody situation.  She's here upstairs sleeping.  And if I can totally hypnotize myself to just be "buds" with Tana then things aren't so bad in the mean time.  And I tried that, but starting feeling love for her and then I totally came crashing down emotionally when her boyfriend picked her up at the house one night.  I can't fool myself.  At least we agree that we are great parents.  But even that grade point average will fall too because we were a family and now we're not.  This was our home.  Now it's broken.  The whole is greater than the sum of it's parts.  I'm so mad, but at the same time I truly love her and I want to do what's right.  Stay in there, work on my issues...improve myself for us.

But day after day it looks like she's really settled into this guy and the hope I have is just my "etched in imagination" and our life fading away.  I'm so lost.  But my strength is persevering and it's one of those "two steps forwards, one step back" things.  Work is great.  Busy and hard but fantastically rewarding.  The only thing I can't handle is my emotional tie to Tana.  But as everybody says...time.  Time, time time.  Let it pass.

So to pass the time in the evenings I have the oil paints out again... and the smell reminds me of art college.  The thinner, linseed oil, the one glass of red wine that sits near the paper palette for hours.  I enjoy working in silence mostly but really miss creating with fellow artists.  The oils are like an old predictable friend that I haven't seen for a long time.  It makes me love a blank canvas again.  And I sort of need that right now.

Follow the rules, break them... gently stir

A big part of intelligence, in my opinion, is the ability to absorb useful elements around you and the intuition to notice what could be useful, for not all that exists beneficially, presents itself in such a manner to be noticed.

Right now.  Experience.  Open your eyes wider and seek the truly unique positives.  Then better or worse continue gravitating towards them.  Because it's all compromises.  Life is hell.  Life is heaven.  It's positive or negative and yet exactly how you see it.  My good friend said to me that he notices people all the time who are chronically naive (stupid) and thinks to himself, man, they don't know how good they got it.  The more you know, the harder life becomes...but there's always a route that's a bit more fun.  A way to rebel.  Rules to know that need to be broken in order for society to move.

In all my creative branches, there's this rule that I live by.  "Make it interesting you idiot.  It's ART!  It's made to be fucking looked at (or listened to, or read)!  Don't go the distance if the end result is dull."  That's my rule word for word.  And I fuck it up all the time.  I'm learning though you know.  It doesn't matter if you suck.  It's the subject matter.  It's presence.  The art wasn't there before.  Why is it here now?  YOU control that.  If you can only draw stick figures then draw a shit load of stick figures in all different colors doing all kinds of risky activities and keep going until you have something cool. Don't stop at interesting.  Paint stick figures, sculpt them.  Stray, refine.  Follow the rules, break them and then gently stir. You learn shit by making choices, whether they be successes or mistakes, living with them and absorbing the effects in a manner that benefits you.  We're all human though.  We know we're going to die.  If you're reading this, you have a life.  The only one you know is real.  So put a smile on and get out there.  I'm telling myself to go fuck myself.

It's hard to say "be positive" when chemically, you cant.  Depression.  I don't have it, but I've definitely experienced it on some of the meds I've been on over the last couple years.  I know what being depressed feels like.  That aint shit.  You can still semi-function.  Depression is crippling.  It seems there's no door to the doom room when you're in it.  I really feel for people who have to live with this day in day out.  It's like everybody else in the world is on another team.  The "grass is greener" team.

I'm going through some trying times in my life right now, not mentally really, but because I'm concentrating on improving myself and loving who I am I'm able to push through.  For me, and most importantly for my daughter.  There's the bigger picture too.  Things could always be way way worse.  I'm learning from this time in my life because I'm a fixer and because I have a little girl who needs me to be a rock and the textbook example of what I think a father should be.

We all have to be a bit "selfish" to be ideal people and parents and friends.  But sometimes people over estimate what they are capable of.  They start relationships all full of spirit and vigor and get married and have kids and they keep pushing toward this ideal and this American standard of living even if it feels wrong.  And they lose themselves...or they sacrifice who they are to be in this relationship and then, snap.  The thrill is gone until someone else shows up with that spark in their eye and a whole different perspective.  It's enticing, and it's human and unfortunately it's real when somebody different with less responsibility shows how fun life can be again to someone who has been locked down in the mundane.

And that's why I say everybody should break the rules and be who they are, pursue life.  Don't sacrifice yourself too much.  But going back on huge promises, not being true to yourself and the ones who love you most, over time will eventually break you if you don't change your pattern.  And for Pete's sake can we learn to accept change in people?  They change.  It's one of those things you have to trust with inevitable heartbreak time after time unless you want to be a bitter hermit.  Because when one person goes the distance for you or someone you love, drop the bullshit...that's a beautiful thing and it's rare as fuck.

And now I must retire, for tomorrow is an early morning.  The adventure begins again!

A father-daughter weekend

Tana hadn't been away from Jade over night since she was born six years and some change ago.  And Jade has made a lot of big steps these last few months with reading and swimming and growing and eating and eating.  So two nights in Monterey for Tana by herself seemed a lot more doable than even six months ago.  She took off on Friday.  It's Sunday.  It's over now.  Jade's at her friend's birthday party...I'm here with a half cold pacifico and my keyboard.

So while Tana's been in Monterey getting use to not having a blond shadow, Jade and I have been having a lot of fun.  Friday we started off taking the couch apart and building a fort.

 Then when we got bored of the fort I set up the camping tent in the family room and we slept downstairs staying up "late" watching movies and wrestling.

She went to a short playdate at her friend's house down the street the next day and I got to clean it all up and vacuum, dust, shower, blink...I can see how the grind gets snowballing the more you extend yourself out.  By the time Jade got back the whole place was cleaned up.

Cuddling that little dwarf, wrestling, bathing her and brushing her hair in the tub, just chilling with this little lady who used to be a small crying burrito, talking with her at night and generally just telling the schedule to go fuck itself for a weekend was so rewarding.  And though we really don't have any pictures to show from it, (other than these) that's sort of the point I guess...it's just another turn away from fear road.  Fear that these things must go documented.  And the documentation must be good and exciting so smile, not like this, like that, now stand on one foot, now do your best Christopher Walken impression, now standing backflip...oh crap, the lighting wasn't right, lets do it all over.  I'm not like that at all, but I like to keep my memory types balanced: try to write about events, take pictures, record movies and more now than ever just enjoy good times as they are happening and soak it in like a hippie because I know these days are fleeting.  She won't always be in kitten pajamas with a head of unruly hair, grin so big her gums are stretching.

I'm at a point with life where I'm going more day by day because stress (self inflicted) and genetics (no pill for this one) don't seem to be in my favor.  The men in my family don't seem to last long so I've figured out how to cheat thoughts of an early demise by throwing "death" at the bottom of my "to do list".  And since I do great with lists until the last few items or so, well it seems like the perfect place for death to take permanent residence.  It's sorted.  Got an empty check box next to it.  Bland font...lower case "d"...So now I don't have to think about it and I'm free to tackle the more pressing matters first in the hierarchy of my "list", like laying on the bed with Jade and singing a new song we made up, or drawing cat zombies or just drifting in and out of sleep in a tent in the family room on a windy night.

...And after I wrote the above blog, Jade and I ended up taking Bart to a toy store in San Francisco.  While we were waiting for a transfer I couldn't help but take our picture.  And to make it even more hypocritical I added some fun vintage FX I applied from my iphone.

Before and after Photoshop

In scanning pages in my sketchbook I came across this drawing.  Mike wanted me to try and emulate the sci-fi movie character sketch style.  He asked me to draw an intergalactic dark crystal inspired convict.  I don't think I got it.  Looks more like one of those shitty paintings on the side of an 80's arcade game.  I hear Bill Sanchez (one of my artcollege profs) telling me "it's good to work outside your comfort zone kid!  That's it, yeah!  Wrap it around!"    I did find a good use for that photo I snapped at Shay's storage locker last time he was in town.  No joke.  I added a layer over the top to make it look dirty.  I also added so much black that you PC users can't see anything at all.  Perfect!  Whatever...I will probably update soon.  It was kind of a quickie job.

So here's a look at the sketch pre and post Photoshop

Sketchbook nearing it's end...

I've got about 3 pages to go in my old sketchbook before I start in on a new one.  So I'll be scanning stuff in and posting it before it starts collecting dust on the shelf of forgotten-ness.

I got a whole bunch of dog dirt for Halloween.

The weekend started so well.  Friday was the company halloween party.  Which was nice because free long lunch, it was an excuse not to go to the gym AND a group of my colleagues dressed up as some of the characters I created for the products.

My personal favorite had to be Elebot.  The original character is on the paper thingy.

Got home and Tana and Jade and I headed over to our friends' place for dinner.  The husband, who's a pretty great guy actually and a new friend of mine, asked if I wanted to go see a show on Sunday.  I said sure, why the fuck not?  I'll go see "Skinny Puppy".  Sounds like fun.  Live music always rocks right?  Mistake number one.

The next day was Saturday.  Halloween.  Jade had a kids costume/birthday party to go to so while Tana was working out, I was in charge of doing Jade's ghost makeup.  I really think if I weren't colorblind I could do this for a living.  I went a little overboard though because when I dropped Jade off at the party, her friends were all dressed up as cute kitties and princesses and happy little fairies.  You know they're all 6 years old more or less.  And coming up to the door I can hear the girls running around inside playing etc.

Well, he he, when Jade came in she looked like this.

She wanted me to do it though.  She kept telling me to break so she could see herself in the mirror. The blood in her mouth was her idea.  And I informed her, ghosts don't bite people or drink blood, but who was I?  The ghost guru?  Here's a before and after:

 

 

So it instantly cast this dark cloud over the whole kids party vibe, which I thought was kind of funny scene after they all got used to it.  And since the party was in our "basic" neighborhood, we all sort of decided to do the house to house thing as a big parent/kid mob.  This actually ended up being quite shitty.  I felt like a fucking sheep.  And had we all been dressed in sheep costumes, that would have been perfect, but twas not the case.  And the fact that everybody in the neighborhood had their lights on but nobody was home was not only ironic, but fucking sad after about 23 minutes.  It was like Spinal Tap, when they couldn't find the stage.  I broke off and got the car, scooped up Tana and Jade and we went home.  It was dark out, still early.  We grabbed our little chihuahua Eddie, fed our big dogs and headed out closer to our house this time by ourselves.  We had a great time trick or treating with Jade.  Perfect in fact.  Later that night, Jade answered the door and passed out candy.  Tana and I drank wine and champagne and enjoyed the evening.

Sunday we took our 3 dogs to Point Isabel dog park on the bay past Berkeley marina.  Our massive brown lab Henry is a love.  He's like a horse on ecstasy and no-doze.

Our yellow lab Che is smaller and getting up there in age, but she still gives life her all.  She gives moaning groaning and licking her dog hole her all as well.

Eddie is our newest addition.  A four year old miniature pincer chihuahua mix.  Got him from a rescue.  He's built like a loaf of wheat bread with itty bitty weight lifter legs...although I must say he looks pretty regal in this shot.

So we all had a nice time, dogs went swimming, Jades swinging from trees, collecting sea glass.  I gave my first drum lesson to a 3rd grader.  It went great.  It's like I knew exactly what to do.  Granted it was the first lesson but still.  Had her playing a beat by the end of the session.  Weekend's wrapping up right, Chinese food for dinner and I'm starting to get tired.  Almost forgot...Skinny Puppy.  My friend comes and picks me up, bay bridge closed so we head over the Richmond/San Rafael bridge to Golden Gate bridge to get to the club on Van Ness in SF.  After two horrible opening acts I was ready for something...just something that resembled music.  Nope.  The sounds that I heard were like a chain smoking gorilla getting pulled apart on the torture rack with a microphone jammed in his face and the gain set to "ear stab". Loud industrial noise and screaming over distorted farts  is what I heard.  Can't even mosh to it.  My band has a song called Prepare to Scream.  We play sci-fi punk and hard rock.  But this shit didn't have anything musical to it.  No beat, no rhythm, just noisy horseshit.   I love punk, hard rock...I even dig live metal.  Prefer it.  But this shit?  The fat shot of Pete's espresso and the 2 six buck cups of bud light on a funky garlic eggplant mu shu stomach probably didn't help the claustrophobic mental raping I experienced, but fuck I have to forgive myself for pete's sake.  And the crowd...my friend Don who I play music with, said he was a Skinny Puppy fan until he saw who the other Skinny Puppy fans actually were.  I fucking wish I couldn't vouch for that.  I really just wish I had my sketchbook.  I never saw such a collection of badly designed tats and vinyl pants stretched over goofy bodies.  Lots of fuzzy bearded boys with horrible eyeliner ideas.  Could probably blow up burning man with the amount of god damn hair product in there and that's still only the guys I'm talking about.  Whatever.  Art ref.  It's in the memory bank.

So the show lets all the dad haters out and we head home.  I get home about 12.  Hang out in the office and decompress.  But I remember I have to drive Jade and her friend to school the next morning so I get my shit ready for work, then I go to let the dogs out before bed.  Trick or Treat!  Henry shat 10 gallons of bay/ass water onto the linoleum in the storage room dog area.  That I assume goes into the "trick" column.

So two towels, a whole lot of simple green and I'm ready to let the dogs back in.  Place is all cleaned up, aired out, made Henry a new bed.  Che's good to go, made sure Henry got the last bits of liquid hell out of his winker and put him back in.  Mistake number two.  Hit the sack around 1:30 am.  Tana wakes me up at 6:30.  He did it again.  This time he got the mixture juuuuuust right...a little less water, more shit and a dash of fuck me.  Steamy hot fucked up dog diarrhea.  Like microwaved bowel pudding.  Demon ass gravy.  Foggy muggy ass mist all downstairs.  Thank gods of whiskey for the storage room linoleum.  But even in that little space he'd crapped in multiple spots and stepped in it and tracked butt spit all over the place.  Here's the morning shot.

So I kick Henry in the ass, clean up the shit murder scene as Tana called it, slam some tea and take Jade and her friend to school. Henry spends the next night outside.  Barking, howling, complaining.  Not a lot but enough for for to feel bad about it. Tuesday night I'm thinking he's over it.  Put him back in his area in the storage room.  Mistake number three.  Wednesday morning, shit murder scene number three.  Well we have our own skinny puppy now and his name is Henry because that dickhead's not getting any fucking food until he figures out his asshole.  I love that guy, but damn it.  And funny thing is, I didn't get close to heaving until the end of the third cleanup when I got a bit of shit of my finger, wet and runny and I said out loud to myself "alright it's on my finger" and that's when the dry heaving started.  I got it under control.  You'd be proud.  The garbage guys weren't stoked.  Last night we felt bad for him howling and barking and pissing off our neighbors so we brought him inside...that's right...and guess how I spent my morning.  Master blaster strikes again.  Will we never learn?

Zombies.

I just updated this image and today is the... wholly shit it's November!  November makes me think of what it must be like turning 80.  But I feel about 80 every day.  Zombies don't give a shit about the end of the year or turning 80, or balance of emotional output because they live in the moment.  Or they "un-live" in the moment.

Cats...

Everyone knows one of those exceptional cats.  That is if you like cats, otherwise there are no exceptional cats of course by default of them being...cats.  But you should only be so lucky to end up scooping the poop of an exceptional cat that you call your own.

We have a great cat right now that's going bald.  Moca.  She has kitty AIDS and she's losing fur at a time when maybe with winter rolling around is not the best idea.  When my wife gets our daughter up for school in the morning, I have about an hour before I need to leave bed.  And when that bedroom door opens, guess who runs and sneaks under my sheets.  Yep.   Which is cute and whatnot, but now that she's doing the bald thing it's like I'm sleeping next to a linty grande burrito with a tail.  I never knew cats had ass cheeks before.  Now I do and I do not wish them on anybody.  Too late for the Olsen twins I guess.

Some cats are total fucks.  I had one.  Delta.  Picked her up from this old marina in Tracy where we used to launch our boat from.  I got her because she was cute.  Stupid way to go about anything.  And she was cute taking a shit on my roommate's bed and also cute scratching the flesh off barefoot house guests in the summer.  Seriously cute, but a total asshole.  It was bittersweet though because most of the dudes getting clawed were douches.  I never really understood that if a new pet was driving me insane I didn't have to keep it.  I didn't see that as an option.  That tortoise shelled fur fuck stayed with us for a few years and saw some real change happen in that house.  It went from a peub ridden frat house to a family home in just over a year.  Man if that cat didn't suck the whole time too.  She really didn't like anything that was living.  Sort of like Grandma!

 My cat growing up was horrible too.  Fun, but a horrible cat.  He could hunch down, growl and leap straight up at your face and really fuck you up.  He'd kick your ass if you had to get up and go to the bathroom when he was on your lap.  Despite, my brother and I had a great time with him, but if I were my parents looking back I would have said, "Hey kids, the cat is spraying shit musk all over everything in the house.  He's pissing and shitting and barfing and he's kind of unpredictable.  How about you boys take a hundred bucks each, go wild in Toys R Us but say goodbye to your cat Mischief.  He's going on a top secret mission and we aren't allowed to know where."  And that would have been it.  One hour of tears and those vet bills...like they never happened.

Today, my parents' cat Lexie was put too sleep.  She was exceptional.  I feel like I lost a little sister but not that bad of course.  I bought Lexie fifteen years ago for my mother for her birthday and she's been the best little bunny furred feline.  Never an accident, sweet as pie, never pissed on your back when sleeping on you (thanks Delta).  Meowed like her voice was put through a low pass audio filter.  She got hit by a car a while back and since then she's sort of steadily lost teeth and had issues.  I guess it was the cancer that got her.  It sucks though, my mom is pretty broken up and I hear my dad had tears too.  Which usually doesn't happen without some crazy hot sauce.
Our immune challenged cat Moca had a brother Maceo who we adopted first before her.  He was great, but he ended up outside because he started pissing behind the ottoman.  About a week afterwords that gray haired idiot got hit by an idiot driving a car.  That evening I was taking out the garbage when I nearly stepped on him convulsing on the side of our house.  I brought him in and he pretty much died in the kitchen minutes later.  Which was quite odd because I did a small storyboard piece I called "hulkFish" where Maceo our cat was taunting a fish in a tank in our kitchen.  The fish turns into a "hulk-fish and scares the life out of him.  Here it is:

That night right after Maceo died, it was time for our daughter Jade to go to bed.  She wanted to read the golden book "Pussywillow".  A short tale about a cat that looked just like Mace.  Well our bedroom window faces the backyard and while Tana was reading our little girl to sleep she could hear the shovel sounds I was making digging the hole for our gray lump.  The irony of life!

Now, besides our Mrs. Bigglesworth to be, we have our outside cat Leo which looks identical to our old cat Mischief.  Here he is it must be five years ago with our dog Che and daughter Jade.

  Huge, hairy, like a cow/cat with a little Hitler stash.  He's an outside guy now.  Bites the heads off wild rats and kicks bird asses.  Hangs out with us in the music studio like one of the guys.  And as for Moca, I'm hoping we get her on some rogaine or something because, yah it's sort of endearing, but I didn't sign up for the weird little frolicking flesh bag.  Cat bits weren't meant to be seen like that I'm sure of it.

So Lexie, goodbye sweet girl.  I'll miss you.  Truly.  Tonight I'll fill a 40 ounce bottle up with milk and pour some on the street for you.

My home music studio

Years ago I converted my 2 car garage into a music studio (with a little help from my friends). We've put it to good use over the years recording stuff from balls out punk to sappy ballads to sound effects and voice overs for animation. It's one of those ever changing spaces. In fact, I pulled down the whole Star Wars wall today. It's now a William Shatner shrine.

Tana Zombie

My wife Tana has a thing about October and Halloween. She rents nothing but horror movies from netflix the whole month. We keep a bell on Jade's door to make sure she doesn't see some cabin whore getting her head split open by some radioactive forest zombie. I have figured out a way to enjoy the exhausting experience by keeping my head buried in my sketchbook drawing zombies and drinking beer.

Tana has a thing about zombies, and so in the traditional "early as hell marketing to the masses before it's really fucking time to do so" American tradition, here she is as a zombie. She wanted me to do it. I swear. She's a vegetarian zombie, thus she would be craving a veggie substitute for brains, which would pretty much be thick noodle spaghetti, which again would make perfect sense for the Pasta Queen.

Hopefully I can post a bunch of Halloween stuff up for October. Hell, I may be able to roll the zombie theme right into Thanksgiving and murder out a turkey! They're used to murder.