Thanksgiving Radio Fail

Wow. I feel like I have been gone for months. Has it been that long?

Obviously things got pretty busy in the past couple of days. Thanksgiving had me munching on grub back in the home state and Miller High Life had me too tired to touch a keyboard for most of the trip. 

A few friends were supposed to come over but the plans fell through which meant the days prior to turkey eating (we celebrate late) were very boring. I didn't really know what to do so at one point I found myself recording a radio show. The "Kevin Gannon Back To Basics Thanksgiving Special" or "KGBBTS" as I liked to call it. It was nice to be sitting in the third floor bedroom of Connecticut all alone at night, sipping on a beer and talking into the microphone. It had been so long since I had a solo format and it was a lot harder than I remembered. 

Needless to say, I have three godawful radio shows. I have never listened to an episode and thought it was so bad that I didn't post it. Either my standards are getting higher or my radio is getting worst.

On the third night I got about 15 minutes into one and literally, had to stop recording. It was a failure. It's still fun to listen to and I felt like I should share my first and (hopefully last) radio fail with you all. It's better than nothing and honestly folks, right now, I got nothing. Hit the link to listen.

WARNING: Only attempt listening to this unless incredibly bored. 

Also, if you are a n00b and want to enjoy a real show click on any of the beautiful pictures to the right. I suggest "The Camp Out Special", "The Reunion Special" or (the crowd favorite) "Cooking With Kevin and Ludwig".

Most Expensive Post

I am writing the most expensive post in history of my two years writing this blog. If you note the post written a few hours before this one you will realize that right now I am thirty thousand feet in the air. 

Amazingly, there there is Wifi available on this flight. The Internet is totally accessible and pretty damn fast. I'm shocked, actually.

This technological breakthrough comes at a cost, though. For 24 hours of internets (which is crazy because it's a 2 hour flight) I had to pay $7.99.

Ouch. 

Still, I'm about to hit "publish post" and I must say the feeling is so cool that this was worth it.

Bon Voyage

Today at 7:50 I'll be sitting in a cramped American Airlines seat being projected through the sky at hundreds of miles per hour, thousands of feet up off the ground all while safely and comfortably (sort of) listening to my iPod.

I'll be in Connecticut for our traditional "Thanksgiving Saturday" feast. Hopefully a few of my buddies will tag along. 

As usual, I dressed up nicely (suit, tie, dress shoes) because I find every time I fly and dress up I get treated better by 90% of the people I encounter. 

My flight isn't for hours but I'm crazy and must get there hours early so in 30 minutes I'll be hoping on the blue line to start my adventure home. 

Until then, I wish you all a happy thanksgiving. Peace!

Vanitas? Check.

After the shower photos were received well by my class (which was a first. For the entire semester I was putting up shit on the walls, it was looking grim...) I was assigned a project by the professors based on my work thus far. 

The conclusion we came to was something vaguely along these lines: I sucked at still life photography. I rocked at self posed scenes. How about I do both?

The assignment I was given was to take a photograph of a Vanitas still life while including myself in the frame. This concept challenged me immediately, which was exciting. After doing some thought I came to a simple, funny solution. 

In most Vanitas paintings there is a skull or two staring out of frame. I figured rather than have a skull how about having my own head on a table? Then, instead of fruits and feathers and shit, how about fluorescent toys and trinkets? Sounds perfect. Too perfect. 

For the life of me, I couldn't get it to work. Tables fell over, you could see the slit of the cloth I was sticking my head through and the shutter of the camera would go off too soon. This image, in variation, is what I got. I could never get my head through so it instead looked like a crowning baby with a full set of hair:

Defeat. Long story short, I was fucked. No idea, no time and no motivation. I sat on the futon staring into space and said out loud:

"Fuck Vanitas. Who gives a shit?"

And that's when it hit me. How funny would a photo be of some dumbass, schmuck of an art student who made a shitty Vanitas out of crap laying around his apartment? Even better, what if we could see him celebrating the fact he just created an arrangement that (in theory) allowed him to acknowledge, accept and celebrate his own demise? Celebrating by, let's say, getting drunk in his underwear while watching TV?

Perfect. 

I'm so proud of the humor in these. From the sticker on the orange to the fish tank skull, it seeps of "last minute art school" and has a real, bonified fartist in action.

I Still Can't Shake the Taste

Yesterday I got home from class, sat by the fireplace and got ready to watch some Law and Order: SVU. As I had the remote in my hand I thought to myself "Don't I have something to do?"

I stared at the blank television screen for a long while. I racked my mind but couldn't think of anything. I shrugged it off figuring it was just "one of those days" and dove into the world of the dedicated detectives who investigate vicious felonies. 

A few hours later I hit the sack. That's when a realization hit me harder: I had to take some photos for my midterm next week. 

Damn.

Point is, tonight I have a butt load of work to do. I needed a college approved boost of some sort so I took a stroll to the drug store.

Monster Energy Drink. Sure, that shit works. Everyone drinks it, I have had it before and ran up the walls while writing twelve page papers. Perfect. Too bad it tastes like shit. At least, I thought it tasted like shit. Then I saw the new "Mean Bean Mocha" energy drink. That's more like it.

Paid my three dollars, took this baby home, cracked her open and took a sip. HOLY SHIT.

Of all the commercial products I have ever consumed in my entire life, this is the absolute worst that has touched my taste buds. It is so horrible, so wretched, that I cannot find the words to describe the misery induced after swallowing a gulp of such trash.

The taste was so bad, in fact, that it was worth stopping everything I was doing to get this message out to you. I insist, go to the store and buy a can of this. I want you to experience the horrors that until now I didn't know could exist in the back of a deli.

Jesus. I'm going to vomit.

The Virus and The Damage Done

This whole swine flu thing has really taken our way of life and flipped it on it's side. I feel like a pretty big asshole complaining about the situation because I'm not the one who is going through horrible pain and discomfort.

Still, the past few days have been weird. Aside from having to watch my friend deteriorate on our futon, knowing that one wrong move could make me wind up like him scared the shit out of me. I watched what I touched and where I stepped. I hand sanitized skin off of my sensitive hands. I looked at sections of my own home and said:

"You cannot go there, Kevin. 

That place is contaminated."

Very strange stuff. What was the most noticeable effect of this virus? Oh, boy. Step into my kitchen.

I talked to a pharmacist and he told me to be extra careful around the bathroom and the kitchen. He told me that dishes and sink faucets are a very easy way to get infected, especially if it's a roommate situation. This man doesn't know it but he may have saved my life but also ruined it: essentially, this means that Preston and I have been treating the kitchen like a war zone until he gets better and it's safe to do the dishes. The whole house is beautifully clean right now (as usual), but Jesus Christ. Look at that. 

All of this drama aside, Preston is starting to make a good recovery. I feel like a million bucks and I'm glad my partner in crime is getting back up on his feet. It's upsetting to see an amigo down for the count. What's more upsetting? Not being able to high five him when he single handedly clears a room of thirty terrorist on "hard" playing Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six Vegas: 2. That's no way to live.

The kicker? The beautiful, full circle ending every blogger yearns for? For the first time I feel comfortable retiring the mask. Good riddance, baby.

Also, the pig says "Hey"

Fashionistas?

I have an idea for a photo shoot (luckily, I have decided to do it on my own time so there are no deadlines) involving my Corporate Camouflage I made a few weeks back.

Problem is, one element of the piece will require a great deal of collaboration. You see, I intend on getting that camouflage printed onto a few yards of fabric and then getting someone to sew together a military uniform of perfect detail out of it. Something like this:

I don't want to get into the specifics because I think it's actually a really solid idea and don't want it out there until I'm hanging a gigantic print on the wall.

I'm a schmuck with a sewing machine and have no idea how much time this would take and if it's even a reasonable thing to ask of someone. I would pay the individual unless they refuse, which, in this economy, I doubt will happen. 

While that works itself out I'm figuring the money out. This project (unlike most I usually make) will actually require a bit of cash. Yeesh. Making Art Farts can be expensive.

I'm trying to hit up the fashion department kids at my school. Are you one? Do you know many? If so, please let me know.