http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:SchwartzesBlut&section=today deviantART RSS for by:SchwartzesBlut en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Wed, 23 Dec 2009 08:57:40 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/22946232/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/22946232/ Sun, 01 Feb 2009 15:02:34 PST
Murphy's Law apparently had other things to say.

To make a long story short, I got a new job, working first shift at a factory, and then began having computer issues (namely, that it was beginning to need a wheelchair and a break for bingo at three in the afternoon). Time slipped away from me, and so did my deviantART account.

As it stands now, I have a few things to submit, and maybe a little more time to commit to reading comments and answering to the favorites I receive. The work that I'm going to be posting does not have the time invested in it that earlier pieces have, as I simply haven't had the hours and hours that it takes for me to finish an elaborate color pencil drawing. Hopefully this will change soon as well, as the season changes and more hours of daylight are available for working.

I am thankful for the support that I have been given, I just cannot hope to respond to every single favorite individually at the time. Please do not think it rude if I'm not able to drop you a line!

Here's to a new year, new work, and good friends.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/18898693/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/18898693/ Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:23:52 PDT
More than likely not, actually.

However! I am here again, and once I get everything sorted out, I will be commenting, answering comments, and submitting work yet again.

It's good to be back.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/16588562/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/16588562/ Sat, 26 Jan 2008 21:58:25 PST
I always end up thinking about the people that have come and gone in my life, the friends that I have and those that I have lost, and wondering how and why all of these things have come to pass. I know it isn't like I can predict where I will go in the next year, or who I will spend it with, but I can hope that where ever I end up is a better place than where I am now.

What have I done in the last year that I really wanted to do, that has furthered me as a person? Very damned little, and it frustrates me. I've been to new places, seen new things, but haven't had the opportunity to let them impact me the way that I want them to. Art has taken a back seat to life, a step backwards in my opinion, but one that for now I will have to take, because hopefully I will soon have the time and the place to get back to the creation that I miss.

Here's to a better year ahead than the one behind.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/14600298/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/14600298/ Wed, 12 Sep 2007 08:20:01 PDT
However, life decided to throw me a curveball this year, and I'm inbetween schools, trying to find what I need as well as an apartment. No offense to my family and friends, but I need to get the hell out of this town. It's ruining me.

So, to those who have so often commented on my work or recieved comments on their deviations from me, I appologize for my lack of activity, and am not precisely sure when I will be able to get back to my usual activities on dA. It isn't that I'm leaving, just that I don't have any damned internet access.

Hopefully things will take a turn for the better soon.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/13051381/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/13051381/ Tue, 22 May 2007 13:43:18 PDT
Until then, be beautiful, and I'll see you when I see you.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/11578197/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/11578197/ Fri, 26 Jan 2007 16:12:20 PST I drink alone, yeah, with nobody else.
Yeah, you know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself.

Now, every morning, just before breakfast,
I don't want no coffee or tea.
Just me and my good buddy Weiser.
That's all I ever need.

Cause I drink alone, yeah, with nobody else.
I drink alone, yeah, with nobody else.
Yeah, you know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself.

Now, the other night I lay sleeping,
And I woke from a terrible dream.
So I called up my pal, Jack Daniels,
And his partner Jimmy Beam.

And we drank alone, yeah, with nobody else.
We drank alone, yeah, with nobody else.
Yeah, you know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself.

Well, the other night I got invited to a party,
But I stayed home instead.
Just me and my pal Johnny Walker,
And his brothers Black and Red.

And we drank alone, yeah, with nobody else.
We drank alone, yeah, with nobody else.
Yeah, you know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself.

Well, my whole family done give up on me,
And it makes me feel so bad.
The only one who'll hang out with me
Is my dear old Granddad.

And we drink alone, yeah, with nobody else.
We drink alone, yeah, with nobody else.
Yeah, you know when I drink alone, I prefer to be by myself.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/11541733/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/11541733/ Tue, 23 Jan 2007 13:17:52 PST
The year so far has been difficult at best, with different things coming in to make school and life in general a salty pain where the sun doesn't shine. Hence, my lack of frequent updates, as well as a journal that hasn't been dusted off since September.

I always make the effort to respond to comments which are left on my work or my page; without the appreciation and participation of the artist, it is hard for a solid community base to form. I am sometimes thankful that I don't have the pageviews of some of the heavy hitters here, because if I did, I wouldn't have the opportunity to respond to everyone who looks at my work. I think that the dialogue between artist and audience enriches the experience of the work itself.

Now, with that out of the way, I have to point at my pageviews and offer up a big AHEM. The last few times I've offered out a kiriban, I've had no takers. I'll probably do a 'thanks for the five thousand' piece anyway, but that piece could be what you want me to do, if you link me to the appropriate screen shot.

Considering I'm basically living in the art building here on campus now, I don't know what the update situation is going to look like. I want to be optimistic, and say that they'll be more often, but realistically, I probably won't be around as much as I used to be. Please bear with me while I scramble madly through three studio classes which are going to devour my soul; if I survive, I'll be a better person for it.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/9950772/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/9950772/ Sun, 03 Sep 2006 11:39:42 PDT
I'm also back from summer vacation in the internetless bowels of rural Kentucky. The update will be coming...eventually. I have to get the posters on the wall to cover the horrible blinding beige, as well as do other things involved with college like buying books, selling unnecessary organs to pay for said books, and lingering on life support in the hospital for several weeks, getting rid of the infection that followed the unprofessional surgery to remove said organs to pay for said books. I love higher education! ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/8460147/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/8460147/ Thu, 13 Apr 2006 14:49:03 PDT Matthew1981, breaking my one year and four month tag-less stretch. Had it been most anyone else, or just about any other subject, I'd just ignored it. However, he's great and this one is both amusing and challenging. So. Yeah. I get to list six strange things about my life, and then tag six other people to do the same. Which stinks, because he would have been one of the ones I'd have tagged.

1. I was born on January 26, and named after my great great grandfather on my mother's side of the family. This wouldn't be strange if it weren't for the fact that January 26 is Australia Day, and also that my great great grandfather was named Sydney. If you don't understand, brush up on your geography.

2. The space shuttle Challenger exploded two days after I was born. My parents watched this event on a small grainy television set in the hospital, because my mother was suffering from pneumonia and wasn't fit to be discharged after my birth.

3. I was reading at a college level by the time I started the third grade. My favorite books were the Dark Is Rising series by Susan Cooper, The Hobbit, The Shining by Stephen King, and The Darkangel Trilogy by Meredith Ann Pierce, when most kids were really just starting to get into Goosebumps.

4. I suffer from frequent, vivid nightmares and the occasional night terror. I also occasionally sleepwalk, and woke up curled up underneath the sinks in the bathroom of the dormitory hall where I lived freshman year. Luckily, I still had my key on its elastic band around my wrist, or I'd have been making a very strange phonecall to the on duty resident assistant.

5. I didn't begin seriously drawing until taking an art class in the sixth grade. Until then, I really hadn't drawn anything other than unicorns in my notebook for class. Considering my commitment to the arts now, I'd think that was fairly odd if I were an outside observer of my life.

6. I once sat in on a photoshoot involving a nude six and a half foot tall transvestite named Jenna, a reticulated python, and a very confused pet shop employee. It occured late at night in the art building of the university I attend, and no one believed that I had witnessed it until a calendar sporting an image of Jenna and the snake on the cover was released to aid a local organization which delivers meals to AIDS patients. She had some of the best makeup I've ever seen, male or female, and an excellent sense of humor.

I bestow this curse upon these poor souls: ~Lovica, ~AntsInMyPants, *ironhenry, ~Gr33kBoi, ~bebopPagoda, and *charlando. May they puzzle over it just as long as I did. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/8353999/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/8353999/ Mon, 03 Apr 2006 13:38:19 PDT ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7985125/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7985125/ Thu, 23 Feb 2006 20:50:48 PST
I'd only be happy if they hired Richard to do it.

And if I got a last wish. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7854917/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7854917/ Fri, 10 Feb 2006 10:41:05 PST
Maybe that has always been my problem with horror films. I could never quite discount that some of these things couldn't happen. I've never had a problem with the newer slasher films, most new horror, actually. Gore turns my stomach, but that isn't so rare. The films that get to me are the ones like The Dead Trilogy. Zombies, hundreds of thousands all moving in one direction, with one purpose, and no conscience. Maybe they remind me too much of the people around me. I don't know. Separating non-reality from reality doesn't seem to be a forte of mine.

Perhaps I lack the certainty about things in life that others take for granted. The assurance that day will break tomorrow and all will be well, the feeling of safety behind a locked door, knowing that there really isn't anything in the basement other than a few spiders and the occasional mouse. Telling me that is all fine and good, but it really hasn't ever sunk in. I sure as hell haven't found any reassurance in religion. Everyone is so firmly entrenched in their beliefs around me that I almost feel left out to consider both sides of the argument. I don't put any weight with canon, but you have to admit that there are things out there that science can't explain, and humanity wants to believe are unreal.

I don't talk about what I think, most of the time. I don't bother to tell people that yes, things do go bump in the night, closer to you than you would ever think that they do. It might not be all speculation and old superstition. Modern medicine can't will away everything, and the dulling voice of government has fallen into the ears of so many for so long that they are lulled into believing it. You are Safe. You Will Always Be Safe. We've Found No Evidence That Things You Fear Exist.

Honestly, do you think they'd really tell us if they did find something? Induce mass panic into the nation, foster dissent from the government, and likely eventually lead to the total loss of official infrastructure because of people who can't believe that the government would spread such 'lies'? The average bargain bin waste of tissue in this nation has no concept that the government would ever try to keep anything from them, that maybe there are things that go on in places in this nation that aren't meant for the public eye. It's bullshit, they say, and go back to watching Survivor.

I can't bring myself to be that sure about things. Maybe I'm smart because of it, maybe I'm stupid to be so questioning. I don't know. I probably appear to be your garden variety, aluminum-foil-hat wearing nut. Think what you want to think. I guess I just got tired of keeping everything to myself for once and decided to rant.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7553862/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7553862/ Mon, 09 Jan 2006 12:30:46 PST
Anywho. I'll try to have new stuff up soon, as I'm tired of looking at that horse, as pretty as he is. There should be preliminary stuff that I'll be posting, and a new image from *mortis-artifactium that has intrigued me. I may do more than one thing with it, I may not have a chance to use it at all. We'll see.

I'm creeping up on my twentieth birthday, which is something that both amuses and amazes me. It's interesting to think that I will be a fifth of a century old. I have tangible memory of three presidents in office, I survived the nineties without a single pair of flare leg jeans, and made it through the new millenium without an apocalyptic happening. It's amazing to me that I have lived this long without some strange disaster or life altering injury, and for that, I am happy.

But seriously. I could live to be a hundred, and never want to even look at a smoked ham ever again. Ick.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7169119/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7169119/ Mon, 28 Nov 2005 15:55:01 PST
The pain.

Anywho. I'm back now. Kinda. Sorta. I think I left my brain at home, so that isn't a good thing, but it could be worse. It could be finals week, and me sitting here without a brain.

I'll try to submit stuff. And things. It depends on how final projects and blahblahblah goes.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7120444/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7120444/ Wed, 23 Nov 2005 06:02:01 PST
WHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAREDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT REDMONGOOSE IS GREAT 1337

GGGGGREAATTATATATATJHWHJNIJRGLOHNSUGHLRU GHLARGUIREURGHWOGHTRUURYYFGSDFGOSOY ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7115385/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/7115385/ Tue, 22 Nov 2005 14:54:58 PST
Hurrah for the end of projects that take too stinkin' long. That, and the impending gluttony of the holiday season. If there's one thing I look forward to about Thanksgiving, it's that the green beans haven't been frozen, and then cooked. Canned taste so much better, and there isn't that wierd consistency issue.

Anyway.

I'm sick of drawing people at the moment. Expect an influx of other things, such as horses. And...uh, horses. Because horses have nothing anatomy-wise that in any way mimics the look of human anatomy. And they're fun to draw.

I'd like to wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving, because I won't be putting up a new journal entry before then.

Toes are funny looking. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6992198/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6992198/ Tue, 08 Nov 2005 16:08:51 PST
I'll give you a hint...it isn't art.

The professors at my school are naturally talented at giving the most work at the worst possible time. They pile on the projects when I have studio work to do for art, something that takes me oodles and oodles of time.

Time that, currently, I do not have if I wish to preserve my grades in other classes.

Therefore, I find myself making the ultimate sacrifice; taking precious hours away from art to do other, wonderful things. Like math. And... math.

I'll update after the current shitstorm has passed. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6871677/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6871677/ Wed, 26 Oct 2005 09:06:01 PDT RoninGaleria and reviewed by *Engel08. I just entered for the heck of it, not really thinking that I would do that well considering the caliber of some of the writing that I see here on DA. Surprise surprise.

There's a lot of great work listed in =RoninGalerias journal right now, and I urge anyone that likes poetry or writing in general to go check them out. My personal favorite from the contest is Tumor, by =shaundj. Check out all of them, though, and pick your own favorite.

The piece that got me the prize was New Fall Blues, a poem that I wrote a while back and submitted for the last Insomniacathon Online, which is a happening of art, music and poetry that Ron Whitehead started way back when. I openly invite you to dig through my gallery to find it, but if you don't feel like doing that, I'll link you. Lazy good for nothin... [link]

Anywho. My prize is a three month subscription, which I shall enjoy with much glee, especially considering it was unexpected. Thanks to anyone and everyone that was involved in the contest, if any of you happen to be reading this.

Also... 1,666. Screenshot-- You. Me-- Artwork. For You. Your name on it. Yes. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6828498/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6828498/ Fri, 21 Oct 2005 14:03:49 PDT
I got several highly enthusiastic responses, and a couple of offers to draw the main character of my tale. So, I present to you the first one that I have seen: *dypsomaniarts One Patient Still Lurked ~ [link]

Draw me more! I'll love you forever.

Don't forget the screen capture that I'm after for 1,666. I'll do you art! Wee! ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6752357/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6752357/ Wed, 12 Oct 2005 20:36:28 PDT
There, in the darkness of the first level, had laid the pride of the institute as well as one of its darkest legacies. The electroshock room was one of the first of its kind anywhere in the world, built into the ward in a renovation years after the foundation had been laid. The electricity administered was hailed to be the first effective treatment for consumption, though many of those who entered the room on comfortable gurneys came out on the hard padding of a morgue flat.

Not twenty steps down the hallway was the iron door of the draining room. Modern sanitation and idea about disease, as well as the intensity of the plague that had stricken the nation, had created the monster that was this room. The number of bodies, as well as sanctions on the transport of victims of the disease led to a method of preparation known simply as ‘draining.’ Corpses of those young and old, tall, short, slender and fat were all equal, hanging by their feet from overhead bars, slit from groin to diaphragm like salmon and left to drip their infectious essence to the stone below. Marble floors sloped gently to drains long corroded of their perfect finish. Rows of steel bars still managed to gleam in places where water hadn’t touched them and done lasting damage.

It was here, in the place hidden from view and lost from knowledge, one patient still lurked. Footsteps echoed off of the rotting plaster of the walls in the hallway, the shuffling stride of a man too weak to lift his feet. Shadows would lurch, changing, rearranging themselves into what may have been the shape of a human, then passing silently through the hall. Puddles in the floor would sometimes, if stepped in, give a nasty jolt if the wearer’s shoes were soaked through before they moved, the source of the electricity inexplicable in a building that had been closed for years. An occasional wail, one of a soul lost even to himself, pierced the darkness and scattered the sparrows from their perches upon surgery lamps which had long ago had their bulbs removed or shattered. Pain.

The sound of dragging feet, along with the rustle of stiff hospital gown fabric preceded his movement through the hall. One hand leaned against the wall for support, brushing over curled paint and cracked plaster without feeling it. He stared ahead, blindly wandering down the hallway, or so it seemed at first. He appeared to be in his early thirties, dark hair wild and uncombed, the whites of his eyes brilliant red from hemorrhaging after death. The white gown that was tied around his waist was stained, wet with blood and yellowish fluid. He seemed to shimmer, to fade and then snap back into existence as he moved, so achingly slowly across broken tile. One who got a good look at him would note the hallmark of the disease; he was covered in blisters roughly the size of pencil erasers from head to toe, the flesh distorted and swollen around them. Massive bedsores trickled fluid down into the back of his knee joint, down his ankle from his calf.

Most disturbing about this phantom who limped his way through the ward was the rope marks about his ankles and bruises from restraints about his wrists. The same mess that soaked the fabric tied around his waist had dried on his skin, coating his face and chest. A deep, livid wound split his abdominals, making the occasional wet flap if he moved too strongly in one direction or another. He neither felt the wound, nor the stickiness of the gore which coated his skin. Had he not been covered in the dark colored stuff, burn marks would have been visible in his skin, perfectly round, located on his temples, the rise of his chest, the bottom of his ribcage.

His room. His wonderful room, so bright, with a pink rose in a crystal vase on the window sill. What had happened to his room? Family, friends lay long forgotten. He wished merely to return to the comfort that was the deep feather bed, to sleep away the confusion that he felt about the paint, blistered and peeling when it h... ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6664336/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6664336/ Sun, 02 Oct 2005 22:49:38 PDT
My rant this week is about kids. I really, truly hate kids, and their parents. It's funny, because children are attracted to me like sharks to a bleeding seal. I don't mind well behaved children. I might actually do something with them, if I'm in a pleasant mood. No, the ones that I am talking about are those that, if they had been born in the previous generation, would have outdone Linda Blair for the part in the Exorcist.

I don't care how cute they are when they're sleeping. I don't care if they say the darndest things. I don't care how much you love them, because you love them too much to discipline them properly. I can understand hyperactivity. I can't understand a kid throwing a kicking screaming fit in the store because you tried to take a candy bar away from them, when they did the same thing yesterday and you let them get away with it.

This overprotective society, the cult of the child, has to die. Kids are never going to respect adults if those that are there to guide them let themselves get walked all over. You may feel bad after spanking your child for doing something that was wrong, but the correction that you give them is the best thing that you can do for children. I don't mean beating them black and blue. Yes, people, there is a fucking difference. I got spanked. I didn't get beaten.

While I'm on the subject of parenting, I also understand rebellion of children that have parents so horrible that it defies imagination. Just as not all children are cute and well behaved, not all adults are made to be respected. House arrest is not a viable punishment for an imagined infringement in the already ludicrous household rules. Kids shouldn't have to work their asses off for priveledges that the adults have. If you watch TV, they should. There's no "Well, you didn't work hard enough even though you swept and mopped every room in the house and watered three acres of tomatoes. I caught you sitting down once, and that means no TV for a week."

It's all a matter of judgement and intelligence. Stupidity on the part of parents is one of the most horrible things that a child can be subjected to in their lives. Unfortunately, the parents are usually convinced that they are in the right, and pass on their predjudices and narrow ways of thinking to their kids, ensuring another generation of hatred among the people of this country. As long as there are daddies in the KKK, there will be racism. As long as there are mommies who homeschool their kids to keep them away from the (however nonexistent) horrors of homosexual pedophile teachers, there will be homophobia. Intelligence is roughly fifty percent inherited and fifty percent adopted. Kids have to be exposed to the fears and hatreds of adults and their peers to adopt them.

The world will never be perfect. Nobody can restrict anyone from what they think in this country, and that is a wonderful, beautiful thing. However, many of these people are imposing restrictions on what their children can think, and that is inherently wrong. There are some things, like religion and sexuality, that parents can offer insight on, but shouldn't force. There are other things, like cleanliness and work ethic, that need to be taught with a little more emphasis.

If you're wondering, yes, I did spend the weekend at home, in a town of three hundred and fifty racist, elitist caucasian christian rednecks. What makes you ask? ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6481036/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6481036/ Sun, 11 Sep 2005 21:13:27 PDT
The art flow may be a little slower for a bit, considering I am getting heavily into my classes and I have an ass load of work. It is such an ass load that I think OSHA is looking in on the problem, citing unsafe working conditions. I just hope they don't make me install a hand rail.

Nobody hooked me up with a screen shot of my 1,000th, so I guess the next one I will do a drawing for is 1,500. Knowing my pageviews, that will probably be a while. Plenty of prep time.

I'd also like to thank all the people that have put me on their watch lists this week, there have been close to fifteen in about four days. Once again, I'd like to thank *mortis-artifactium for the feature in his journal; it was much appreciated.

My roommate has icy cold zombie feet. Brr. Check out her art at ~kitschlikeoranges. I've been trying to get her to update, to no avail. No amount of cajoling has been sucessful.

Also, have a look at this guy here: ~RedMongoose. He has neat stuff, good comics and other drawings as well as a few odd clubs.

Umm. Zombie feet. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6460328/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6460328/ Fri, 09 Sep 2005 15:50:15 PDT
If it weren't for my grandfather, I doubt I would still be playing golf. It's a great sport, but I'm tired of the competition, and, quite frankly, would be better off if I was rid of it. I'd have more time to do the things that I wanted to do, like draw or read or maybe, just maybe, sit and daydream every now and then.

I have had the feeling for many years that art is something considered disposable in our society. Nobody really cares if the serious artist lives or dies as long as they are getting their steady paycheck, despite the fact that if it weren't for artists, they would still be sitting in the cold outside and banging rocks together.

It takes dreamers to make anything work. The people that come up with the ideas, the concepts. Sure, math and art are two things that we don't really associate, but early mathematicians, especially the Greeks, saw art in what they did. The Golden Ratio is a great example of this: a mathematical principal that guided the ideals of beauty and therefore the proportioning of statues that we still admire today, milennia after they were first made.

So, to everyone that has supported me artistically, from my mother to those here on DA, I give a humble thank you. Thank you for helping me stay in the path that I want, not what others want for me. I'm sick of "You'll never make anything of yourself" and "There's no money in art."

So what? Maybe money isn't my highest priority. Maybe satisfaction and sanity rate a little higher on my list. Most of the people that I know think I have at least one screw loose, but I would be willing to bet that twenty years down the road, they'll be the one on the anti-depressants, because they didn't give expression a fighting chance. I'm not stupid, they just don't jive to my groove, and will probably suffer for it someday.

All of this stems from the fact that I have been told all my life that there were better things to do with my life. Everyone has tried to steer me out of the artistic field at some point or another, even my mom tried to. But as an artist herself, she realized that I could no more give up art than I would cut off my own head. They all wanted me to be something that they were fixated on. Golf pro, executive, CEO. None of that is me.

Get the hell off my back. I know where I want to be. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6418387/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6418387/ Sun, 04 Sep 2005 23:07:47 PDT
Not only do I live in a city of neanderthals, as I have noted before, but considering tomorrow is Labor Day, and it is a three day weekend, they are now drunk neanderthals.

For those that have never lived in such communities, it is quite customary to begin drinking days before the actual holiday, whether or not it is an occasion to be celebrated or not. Then, it is also customary to climb on to ones obscenely loud dirtbike/monster truck with no muffler/four wheeler with a dragging fender/ghetto '93 Ford Tempo complete with bald tires, cheap speakers and a shoddily built speaker box and rip up and down one lane, 35 mile-per-hour speed zoned roads with their windows down (if they have windows-some rip the duct-taped plastic off of their doors to accomplish this) and scream cliche redneck phrases out at those attempting to slumber at three in the morning.

If I never see the day when a redneck with his Git-R-Done hat cocked sideways leans out of the window of a moving vehicle, vomits a line in my lawn and then screams "THE SOUTH WILL NEVER DIE YOU YANKEE FAGS!!" while waving a longneck bottle of some cheap, shitty beer (the local seems to be Budweiser-all American, watered down nastiness), I will be a happy woman.

Actually, I should say if I never see that again.

I'm just glad that I'll be on campus and will miss the drunken display of patriotism that is leftover illegal fireworks mixed with loud, staticky country radio and numerous rifle discharges. I don't know why Labor Day is a patriotic event, but there you go.

In a happier note, I'm nearly to 1000 pageviews. Wee! Catch me a screen shot, and I just might manage to maybe draw something with your name on it. Keep clicking on the links to *Matthew1981, ~myrrdhim, ~raffaello, and ~ShakSaag. I'm sure they'll appreciate it. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6391913/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6391913/ Thu, 01 Sep 2005 20:36:33 PDT

These are people that I have just found (with the exception of Matthew) and, other than Matthew1981, have signed up very recently. They are all excellent artists and deserve more recognition than they are getting. Click'em, if you like'em, watch'em.

]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6350802/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/6350802/ Sun, 28 Aug 2005 12:37:59 PDT
But I digress. At least I am here, again. Living in a box, again.

I hate this place.

List of things that I am thankful for: Working showers, endless hot water, locking doors, bathroom stalls with locks, sinks that drain properly, shower stalls that drain properly, closet space, a bed that doesn't slope downwards from one end to the other, locking doors, my own fridge, silent time, internet access, washing machines that don't overflow if you forget to shut off the cold water, not having to remember to shut the water off, air conditioning, tile floors, posters, hospitable room mates, locking doors, and microwaves.

I realize that I listed locking doors three times.

If you had a hyperactive five year old sister who had a toyroom across from your room and you yourself had no door at all except for a blanket strung across the opening, you would list having a door that locked three times as well.

I write too much. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/5446998/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/5446998/ Tue, 24 May 2005 10:20:40 PDT However, there is the issue of internet access. I do not have net access at home, due to the fact that I live in a city of neanderthals. If I can find a cheap ISP with local access, you will be seeing me around.

If not, I'll talk to you all on September 4.

Well, I won't necessarily talk to you, but I'll be around.

Toodles! ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4902284/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4902284/ Thu, 24 Mar 2005 16:56:25 PST
"Lets build a couple of really nice looking buildings, and get people who sound like they know what their doing to work inside. Then we will tell others that to be respected in the society and live full, happy lives, they need to know what these people know. If they say they already know these things, make them show proof. If they don't have anything to show, we make believe that we don't believe a word that they are saying. Rumor of this need for proof of knowing will spread, so we conveniently make some pieces of paper that are printed to be certificates of knowing and frame them nicely. People will begin asking how they can get the papers. We'll tell them that they have to listen to the learned people in the buildings, and do things for them. These learned people will then evaluate the people on a scale that is absolutely rediculous and has no relevance to society whatsoever. They make them do rediculous, time consuming tasks and memorize whole worlds of useless knowledge, and if you don't, they drop your evaluation out of displeasure. But listening to the talking people can't be free. No, we charge a fee up front. All of this takes so much time that the people have a hard time maintaining a house or a life, so we build them housing. We feed them, and give them places to study, all for more and more money. Eventually, the sum will become astronomical and many will not be able to afford it. The banks will be perfectly happy to work with us on our scam, and loan huge sums of money to the people, on the terms that they pay the bank back much more than they actually owe them. After a long and tiresome period of years, eventually we tell them that they have learned enough, throw them a formal party and give them their slips of paper. They will be so happy that they did this, and so proud of themselves for knowing these things, that they will send their children back to us. Having one of these papers will come to be a sign of enlightenment, of adulthood, and it will become a custom of the society for the people to pay this money, to learn these trivial things. They will never figure out that it's all a fraud, a ploy to make us all filthy rich! It's perfect! I call it...college."

~~~~~

Academe, n. An ancient school where morality and philosophy were taught.

Academy, n. (from academe). A modern school where football is taught.

from The Devil's Dictionary, written by Ambrose Bierce, 1885. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4715504/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4715504/ Wed, 02 Mar 2005 22:02:19 PST
----

Lookah! I'm in a club! ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4688089/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4688089/ Sun, 27 Feb 2005 20:32:02 PST
I realized over the weekend that I need to spend more time on campus, as it is nearly as difficult to get anything done there as it is here when people are being idiots. I dislike the fact that that will put me fairly well out of reach to anyone and everyone that I really want to talk to, but that is something that will just have to be borne.

Grades before sanity. Amen. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4670264/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4670264/ Fri, 25 Feb 2005 13:16:13 PST
As much as I hate leaving the artwork hanging until Sunday night, I want to get the hell out of this place for a day or two. It's driving me nuts. You can only handle so many tests and due dates and drunken screaming frat girls at once, and I believe I have hit my limit on all three.

Plus, it's been Greek Week. If you, reading this, are affiliated with a fraternity or sorority, no offense. It's just that my school is notorious in this area for having a stupid greek system, and things like our Greek Week are the reason why. I have had it rubbed into my face all week that I am not one of the socially elite of the college world, that I am nothing, low on the totem pole.

I told a couple of the snottiest girls that I was happy with who I was, and wasn't going to sink low enough to buy my way to friends. I have one sister, who is five, and she is plenty. Why do I need a whole posse of them? Do they have self esteem that is so low they need the reassurance of a hundred other girls that they are loved?

Frankly, I'm sick of it. Off to the homeplace, where the occasional Angus cow heifer has to be shooed out of the front garden. At least they don't talk as much. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4642336/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4642336/ Tue, 22 Feb 2005 01:27:35 PST
Magical Trevor is even funnier at four thirty in the morning. That is the epiphany that I wish to share with the world, as the only thing that seems to be functioning at this hour other than my sense of grammar and composition is the side of my sense of humor that craves nifty flash loops.

Cheez Doodles! ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4633696/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4633696/ Sun, 20 Feb 2005 23:03:08 PST ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4614868/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4614868/ Fri, 18 Feb 2005 13:18:28 PST ironhenry . I only just started getting comments from him a few days ago, and he's already helped keep me from losing my mind totally.

I'm usually not a quick tempered individual; in fact, I think my lack of time for artwork lately has been part of the problem of me tending towards the violent side. That, and I ran out of black water color. But anyway.

I want to sincerely thank you, Ben, for being the person that you are. Your artwork is excellent and inspiring, and so is your outlook as an individual. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4611214/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4611214/ Fri, 18 Feb 2005 00:40:44 PST
You know what I mean. You say it, and immediately they are investigating, looking for clues, trying to get something out of you that will let them figure out what it is that makes you say that phrase. It's never enough to say it. You have to explain why you said it, which is likely what you were trying to avoid in the first place.

I don't like talking. I don't like getting involved with something I know is potentially upsetting to me. I know that if I do, and I get upset, I am very, very vengeful towards the person that forced me into a conversation that hurt or upset me in some way.

The people that force me into these conversations don't seem to understand that if I say I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to talk about it. Not at all. None. I am ready to move on to bigger and better topics, to shy away from what they want to talk about that I know is going to get me to go off.

I'm tired. I'm frustrated. My hands are sore from punching walls, because there was nothing else convenient to hit. There is only so much you can do to channel the frustration.

Then, inevitably, the person won't let it drop. They keep going and going and pushing and pushing, then wonder why you're upset. Why you don't want to speak to them. Why you're about to punch their face in for bringing up something that you just wanted to go about your life without dissecting into microscopic bits and talking about how it makes you feel, and why it makes you feel the way you feel, and the neurochemicals that cause the feelings and whether or not human feeling is an illusion of the mind.

I'm sick of this. I'm sick of always having to explain myself, of always having to go back and appologize after somebody else cornered me on a topic that I didn't want to talk about and I ended up hurting their feelings. Guilt about this sort of thing is one of my downfalls, but I am starting to feel less and less responsible for the way that others feel about me. They push me into it, they should be willing to accept that I might get upset with them over their behavior. It isn't my fault. I didn't bring it up.

Therefore, I shouldn't be the one feeling guilty. They should be, for making me speak of things that I just wanted to let go. If I can let it go, it will eventually stop bothering me, and the problem will be solved. Why isn't this something that others are able to understand about me?

I just want to scream. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4608998/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4608998/ Thu, 17 Feb 2005 18:09:07 PST
I tend to get more work done on a day like today, when there is nothing I'd rather pay attention to than an MSI song and a sketchpad.

To everybody that contributed to my mood today, I would like to offer a sincere thank you for the bitchin' drawings I got finished because of you.

Not that they care. Asshats. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4602603/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4602603/ Wed, 16 Feb 2005 22:05:29 PST
Not that I don't consider the digital stuff real, I just prefer what I do on paper to what I do with a web applet.

And stuff. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4533864/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4533864/ Tue, 08 Feb 2005 21:45:59 PST
No matter how priveledged or advanced your college says it is, you will always get sick because someone else sneezed on the doorknob that you have to touch to get into your residence hall. Or, because people are slobs in the bathroom.

Don't even get me started on that. Ugh.

I rant about this because I am the latest victim of the Transy-plague. Whatever it is, I have been in my room all day, too sick to really do much. Which blows, in my opinion.

All I ask is for a little extra bleach in the cleaning crew's mopwater. Is that too hard of a request to fill? Sure, we all smell like the public pool for the rest of the day after cleaning up in the morning, but that is better than feeling like you look like the Crypt Keeper when you get up in the morning.

If Romero needs extras for his next film, and I'm still sick, I will be first in line. They likely won't need to do much makeup on me to make me look like I feel: like a member of the walking dead. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4487204/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4487204/ Thu, 03 Feb 2005 09:52:42 PST
That, and most professors are a royal pain in the ass.

I came to this conclusion late last night, as I was patiently reading the fifty pages that I had been assigned by one of my professors. It washed over me, like a stinking wave from polluted sea, that I didn't need this. There was no reason for me to be here, slaving away on something I didn't find interesting for a class that I had been stuck into (for such is the way freshmen are treated.) I was good enough without this.

I hate it here. I hate the greasy food, I hate the greasy frat boys. I hate my hall, the pink walls in my dorm. I guess they figured "Oh, they're girls! They love PINK!" The teal trim. The mattresses that haven't been swapped out since the 1950's. About the same time they did the paint. Beige walls. Dim fluorescent lighting, wobbly desks, cold tile floors. Public bathrooms. Public showers. Drunk people. Screaming, estrogen soaked hall episodes, usually involving the OC. Bad music. The smell of burnt popcorn. Teeny washing machines and dryers, that are always full of someone else's clothes.

Some of this, I would think, comes from me not being a people person. I abhor crowds. Unless it is a crowd of artists, then I'm happy. I am just a natural loner otherwise, and I have a certain standard set for myself. One that does not involve sidestepping vomit in the hall on my way to the bathroom first thing in the morning.

I suppose I could go on, but you know, I just really don't have the heart to. I mean, after all, it could be worse.

I could be at a state school, with thirty times the number of students as mine, much more cramped rooms, and a campus the size of Delaware.

Higher Education: Ick. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4469673/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4469673/ Tue, 01 Feb 2005 09:37:01 PST
You know the deal. "Oh, let's write something about butterflies and flowers...." And it comes out as butterflies of the apocalypse with little death's heads on their wings eating from flowers that smell like bitter almonds, swaying in a breeze defiled by radioactive fallout and sarin gas.

I hate you. I really, really do. And you know that I am talking to you, so everybody that is confused by this sentence can merely disreguard it.

Unless you think it's funny, then by all means, do giggle to your heart's content at my frustration and misery. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4463816/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4463816/ Mon, 31 Jan 2005 16:18:38 PST
I was going to post another poem today, but alas, after the harrowing incident with the Star Trek episodes I am required to watch for class, I think that I am too worn out to really write anything decent.

( The harrowing incident was this: I don't like Star Trek. I was forced, by threat of my gradepoint average, into watching two episodes back to back. Put together the pieces. Mhhm, mhmm, good.)

Anywho. There may be something new up tonight. But if there is anything in it involving Heisenburg Compensators or tricorders, you will just have to forgive me. ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4457608/ http://SchwartzesBlut.deviantart.com/journal/4457608/ Sun, 30 Jan 2005 21:37:44 PST
I may eventually have artwork up as well, if I can find a working scanner on the entireity of my college campus. You would think, with as much as tuition is, they would have a working scanner.

But I digress. One more thank you for the welcome, and I hope you all enjoy my work! ]]> ~SchwartzesBlut