Mind, Trials, and Creativity
of Eric Homan
(Through
the Years)”
-My Life-
-A Creativity Dogma-
by Eric Homan
~Written from 1993 thru 2011~
Copyright 2011, Eric Homan
"Who I Am As An Artist”
aka:
Everything You Wanted To Know About Eric Homan
(But Was Afraid To Ask)”
by Eric Homan
Contents Within:
Insights/ Philosophies/
Manifestoes/ Theories/ Concepts/ Rantings/
Beliefs/ Dreams/ Notes/ Cacophonies/ Thoughts/ Clues/ Confessions/ Thoughts/ Dogmas/ Dissertations/ Thesis/ Critiques/ Essays/
Propaganda/ Opinions/ Ideas/ Views/ Notions/
Proposals/ Hypothesis/ Arguments/ Judgments/
Feelings/ Attitudes/ Values/ Beliefs/ Convictions/ Principles/ Aesthetics/
Menu of Catharsis/ Contents
“Who I Am As An Artist” aka: Everything
You Wanted To Know About Eric Homan (But Was Afraid To Ask)”
Opening Quotes
Preface - “What’s It All For?”
The Purpose of All of This
Why Make Art?
What Drives Us?
Forward
The Journal Dates
Personal Advisory
Personal Intro
A Mini-Snapshot of My Life
Examples of My Computer Artwork
My Personal Expression
Memories
of My Mother
I Should Be Dead
These
Very Words Should Not Exist
Art as “Entertainment” Therapy
“Artist’s Statement”: A Universal Personal
Art Experience
“Empathy Art”
Dealing with Feelings
Some Family and Personal Background
I Am
a Powerless Super-Hero, But an Empowered Artist
“The Record Breaker”
My
Sporting Event Is The Creative Arts
Being Different in a
Escaping
Small Town Life
High School Revenge
Fantasies
A Hometown Without Ambition Beyond
Babymakin'
The
Boredom of Small Town Life Made Me
Choosing
Art Over Athletics
High School Glory Days?
Finding
My Confidence and Freedom in College
Gaining
My Confidence Up
Wanting
Girls' Affections in High School
My Esteemed Peers, the Cheaters
Grading Average Motivation
Evening the Odds
My Big, Naïve Fantasy of Returning to
My Hometown the Conquering Artist Hero
My Hidden
My CCAD Freshman Year
Keep on Going
The Trials and Traumas of Surviving
My Identity As a Computer Artist
Dealing with the
Profundity of Loss
Would I Be Doing More Commercial Art If
My Mother Hadn't Died?
Now What Do I Do?
Judgment Day for a
Control Freak
Not
Getting Into
Do I
Nearing Graduation: A Most Intensely Stressful Time of My Life
Direction-less
Beware of Making Art School a Fantasy Land
Fear the Premature Death of My Creativity
"Would You Work in the Porn Video
Industry?"
A
Uncertainty at the Crossroads: Sex and
Love vs. My Future
The Moment I Truly Realized I Was an Artist
One of the Events That Got Me Out of My Shell
The Creativity Trap
The Family Strain
Eating Out with a Friend Shouldn’t Be Considered a Waste of
Time
“All Talked Out”
Relationships and Their Consequences on
an Artist
Work to Get the Girl
I've Got the Time
Acceptance and Action - Loneliness Fuel
My
Fantasy World vs. My Reality World
The Urgency Continues…
My Days on the Edge of
the World
My Artistic Genesis, Creation, and Motivation
The Motivation to Work Hard
Reflecting Back at My Graduates Peers…
Money Is Security
Update
Letter to My Former CCAD Interactive Art Professor
The Loss of Creativity
in the Real World Work Setting
Getting My Foot in the Teaching Door
My First Teaching Experience
Answering a Major Life Question
What Am I To Be?
Considering a
Fulfilling My Life Goals
“Introspections”
Trying to Find Universal Clarity
“Who Is Your Target
Audience?”
Attention Deficient Disorder
Facing Change: An
Artist Having to Deal with the Real World
Securing a Full-Time
Job in Academia Right Out of
"You
Can't Go Back Home Again"
Reflections After Finishing Graduate
School
A New Beginning in Academia
A
“Daily Crisis”
How I’ve Changed
Invisible Art
Neil Young Empathies
I'm an Outcast Mutant Artist
Post-Beatles Burnout Warning
A Walking Contradiction
Artists Exist in a Hyper-Sensitive
Dimension
The Constant Struggles of Being a
Self-Expressive Artist
Finding Pride in Escaping My Small Town
Hometown
Finding a Job in the
Arts
Positive Employment Direction
Omens at the Center for My Future
"The Incident" and My Innocence
"Would You Like Fries With That?"
“The Bad News Breaks”
Reflecting on My Transition to Teaching
Elsewhere
Becoming More Open-Minded and
Extroverted
Believing in Your Art
When No One Else Does
The Artist Wild Card
The
Art Warriors and Causalities
It's Just Life
Self-Expression Anyway
…AND THE VERDICT FOR MY FUTURE IS IN…
The Telephone Interview
-CLOSURE
DAY-
"I Suppose I Do My Art 'For
Fun'"
Insecurity Creates Creativity
Letting Go
Form a Creative/ Technical Partnership
Creating Art Is My Self-Esteem Boost
Returning Home a "Hero"
Because I Won Back My Confidence
"You Should See a Psychiatrist"
To
"Live" Through Creating Art
A
Personal State of Emergency
The
Artistic Creation Seduction
Unsatisfied
My First Day Teaching at CCAD
I
Wouldn’t Have It Any Other Way
Teaching at CCAD
Assessing
My First Semester Teaching at CCAD
You Can't Please Everyone
A Student's Different Opinion
Fighting
for Recognition and Attention Through Making Art
No
Relationship Benefits and Downsides
Art
to Connect Our Sense of Humanity
How To Waste My Time Productively
Making
a Positive Impact as a Teacher
Make Your Own Art If What's Around You Doesn't Excite You
Animation to Infinity
Art Out of Urgency
The Emotional Highs of Creating Art
Balancing Creating Art with Getting Out with Friends
Can
You Have a Big Ego If No One Knows Who You Are?
Don't
Feel Too Deeply Inside
I Hate Routines
In
a State of Emotional and Artistic Flux
My
Spirit Is Spiraling
Look
at All That I've Accomplished
Sometimes
Great Art Needs Extreme Emotions
Super
Heroes and Artists
The
Artist vs. Athletes
My
Artist's Declaration
I
Am an Artist Hybrid of Society
Stay
Active and Creative
My
Life of Surrealism
"Creative
Class"
Where
Is the Grand Payoff Already?
Winter
Time: Stay Indoors and Get Creative
If
My Mother Were Alive Today…
I
Can Be My Own "God"
What If...?
Virgins
of Creativity
Fear
of Inactivity and Repetition
The
Freedom of Being Single
The
Emotional Aftershocks the Following Morning
An
Impossible Situation
My Bachelorhood vs. My Art
The
Challenges of a Bachelor Artist
The
Curse of Being A Single Artist
I’m
Still Dreaming
Teaching Philosophy
My Schizophrenic Introvert/ Extroverted
Duality
Defending My Personality Differences to My
Family
The
Introspective Struggle to Finish My Art
Defending Your Individualism
Shake
Things Up
The Surrealism of Teaching at One's Alma Mater
The
Personal Sacrifice of Personal Art
Remaining
Young In Spirit
Art - A Greater Alternative to Sex
Use
Your Artists Properly
Release All This Tension Inside as Art
My
Built Fantasies Beat Your Rundown Conversations
I've
Grown Well Beyond My Coldwater Roots
Art Is Necessary
“What the Hell Have I Done With My Life?!”
“A
Fine Depression”
“Feeling
Shitty Anonymous”
No
Choice But To Be Different
Art to Ecstasy
Should
I Sacrifice My Creativity for a Family?
I
Know Who I Am
Fraternity
Freaks vs. Eric Homan on a Perfect Spring Day
The Sense of Humor of
Surrealism
A
Relief To Remain an Anonymous Artist
My
Artwork Is My Love Life
Time To Grow Up
You Have To Compromise
Art
Without a Deadline
Re-Graduation Day
Wild Eccentricity Usually Has No Use In Society 99% of the Time
Making
Art Is Easy for Me…
Finding
the "Freedom" to Work
What
Complete Despair Feels Like
Enjoy
the Seclusion?
Looking
for a Love…
How
Do I "Show The World" What Amazing Creativity I've Got Inside?
A
Romantic Relationship Can “Wreck” One’s Dreams and Ambitions - and Vice Versa
I
Need To Release Myself
Reflecting
on an Alternate Fate of Being Unemployed
"To
Ms. Psychiatrist (My Journal), It's My Conservative Family…"
I
Woke Up - I Got Out
New Day Resolutions
Glory Years Are Ahead,
Not Behind
Garden
Some Art Instead
The
Importance of Employment
This
Despairing Loneliness Creates an Opening to Change
I’m
An Escapism Addict
Art
Is the Tool for Divine Communication
The
Question of When to Have Children
A
Message to the Friends I've Known
The Necessity to Play
My Fantasy World Is So
Strong
Risking
My Life for My Artwork
A
Walking Contradiction
Are There No Jobs for Creativity?
Art vs. Adulthood: A
Sobering Moment of Clarity
Fear of Being
“Domesticated”
The
Oddities of Existence on Our Planet Channeled Through My Artwork
The
Danger of Living Too Deeply in One’s Imagination
Will
Getting Married Replace My Dreams?
When
Depression and Despair Gets a Hold of Me…
Art Is An Answer
Is
It Better To Be “Lonely”?
"I
Can’t Lose My Freedom"
It's
Time to Choose Between the “Love/ Art Blues”
A
Friendless Daze of Days
The
Fight for Life of the Obsolete Artist
Accidentally
Losing Artwork
The Anti-Depressant Society
I’ve
Got The Infinite!
We
All Need Our Depression
I'd
Rather Be Making Art Rather Than Be Making Small Talk
I
Want To Use My Creative/ Artistic/
Acting/ Writing Abilities in Something
Feeling
the Urgency of Discovery
Family… or Dreams?
A Chemistry Set of Creativity
Dealing with Lost Dreams and Sacred
Art Emotions
That’s
What Dreams Do
I
Am An Undercover Artistic Genius
Suicide Me/
Erase Me
The
Artist From the Small Town Known for Sports
Breaking
Down My Method of Teaching
Teaching at an
I
Am Constantly Moving Forward With
Making New Art
I’m
Committing Suicide by Creating Art
I've
Rebelled From Having an Average Life
One
Day I Will Have Children
Today
Is the Best Day of Your Life
Poisonous
Jealousy
Art
Should Be Made for Oneself
Making
Art and Using One's Imagination Is Better Than Sex
The
Pain Will End/ The Joy Will Begin
We
Keep Hitting Those Highest Highs
The Creative Thought Process
Computer
Art as a Last Ditch Emotional Rescue Device
Existential Self-Deprecating Artist Loathing
Enjoy Yourself, Young Man
Gaining Some Self-Assertion
Winners
and/ or Losers
The
Time to Express Creative Ideas
A Dangerously Dreamer Extraordinaire
I Need Dreams for Fuel
The
Most Creative (and Anguished) Period in My Life
(Super Heroic) Self-Determination
Art Finds the Meaning in Existence
Fear
of Losing My Artistic Goals
This
"Artistic Freedom"
I Am an Artistic Vessel of Creative Confusion
Kicking
My Shyness
A Portrait of Deep Clinical Depression on a Late Autumn Day
I Was Gone
An Artist’s Defiant Revolution of Society’s Status Quo
Escaping From the Bad News Networks
Selling
Sex vs. Imagination
I've
Gone to the Limits of My Creative Existence
Chemical
Imbalances Are Performing a Circus for Me
It’s
Just LIFE?
Have an Art Day Today
Healing Art Dreams
I’m
Not Gay
Does
It Really Matter?
I’m
Dying Here, But I’ve Never Felt So Alive
Digital
Artist Discovery?
Existential
Teaching Job Position?
Anti-Depressants
Keep Me From Being Too Bothered by the Instability of Life
Fear the Creative
Teaching, My Dream Job?
My
Research into the Creative Mind
Retaining the Spirit of that 12-Year-Old Inside
The
Need to Get My Work Published and Recognized
I’m
High on Feeling Down
The Commercial Formula (“It’s All
So Clear To Me Now”)
I Feel So Alive with the Music on My Side
Suffering From Creativity Withdrawal
The
Ingredients for My Eccentricity
My
Crippled Self
How I’ve Grown as a Professional and as an Adult
The Collaboration
between Teacher and Student
Teaching with
Confidence
Being Professional vs.
Being Eccentric
Having an “Imaginary Friend” for
Creative Satisfaction
Life Is a Physical Imagination
Life/ Imagination Overload
Living in My Own
Personal Fantasy World
So Damned Lucky – I
Never Stopped Dreaming
“Fantasy” Hitting
Bottom
Reasons for My “Fantasy World”
Once Life and Movies Grew Routine…
The
Dangers of Taking a Solitary Existence to Its Extremes
My Sensitivity Complex
An Artist’s Never Satisfied
The Cost for the Price of Creativity
The Art or The Woman?
The van Gogh Legacy
Walking the Vincent van Gogh Path
I Am a By-Product of
the Legacy of Vincent Van Gogh
Understanding
"Entertainment Art"
The “Suicide” of My Artist Personality Side
Insights to Make You Live Before You Die
The Crippling Loneliness
A Fear of Being
Adrift on the Ocean of Life
Desperate Personality Transformation
Reflecting on the Eric
of the Future Tense
Taking a Stand to Make a Change with My
Vacant Social Life
The Sad Irony That Personal Dismay
Helps Provoke Art
My Continuing War with Myself
I Have a Pet Black Despair
How To Feel Free Inside
It’s All in the Mind
I
Poured My Heart
Artistic Confession
Fun Unexpected Events
One's Imagination Is a Party
The Artist Utopia
The Spiritual Convictions of a Free-Spirited Artist
Art
as God
I Found a New Religion
Love and Art
Art to Orgasm
Art as a Medicine
A
Sheltered Existence Adds To An Extraordinary Imagination
Living in Perfect, Horrifying Isolation
“Mad”
Exposing and Exorcising Personal Demons
Journal Writing
Writing
as an Outlet
A
Journal's Self-Expressive Release
I
Write It All Down To Make Sense Out of It
Looking
to a Journal for Life's Meanings
Priceless
Journals
Journaling:
The Ultimate Creative Exercise
A
Journal's Purpose
Keeping
a Journal: An Amazing and Affordable Self-Help Psychoanalysis
A Journal as
Psychotherapy
My Journal Companion
Journal Exorcism
Looking
Back in Shock on a Life Through Reading Your Own Journal
Our Journals: Kurt Cobain vs. Eric
Homan
Fear of Honest Words
Fighting
to Find Meaning and Truth to My Very Life and Existence
Journal as a Life-Map
Journal as Financial Savoir
Journal as Time-Travel
Keeping
a Journal for Art
Journal Existential
Importance
Artistic/ Creative Use of My Journal Notes
Movie Journal
Conversations
Movies as a Creative
Oasis
Good Fortune and the
Guilt
Working Hard
Needing to Be Productive All the Time
Artistic “Real World” Conflict
Introspective
or Anti-Social... or Both?
The Pain to Create
Is It a Sin to Feel Too Much Inside?
The Risks of Making Art
The Artist’s Sacrifice of Oneself
I Became The
Sacrifice
A Dangerous Sacrifice
The
Sacrifice Continues
Are We Having Fun or Trying
To Have "Fun"?
Preferring Art Over Weddings
The
Real Thing
Looking
Out For Your Creativity
The
Art Suffocation by the Real World
Beware
of Reality
An
Artist’s
Do I Have To Conform?
Embrace Chaos
Artists
vs. Society’s Apathy Migraine
Better to Work in Seclusion?
Looked Over by Film Festivals
Rejections
‘R’ Me
“Award-Winning” Faculty Member
Dealing with
Rejections
I’m So Afraid that the
Things I Create Won’t Matter to Anyone Else But Me
The Relationship Between Artist and
Audience
The Road of Artistic Honesty in a
Commercial World
The Dilemma of Being a Digital Artist
Art Isn’t About Money
An Artist with an Audience
“Art for the Self”/
“Art for the Soul”
I HAVE NOTHING TO LOSE
The Personal Is the Universal
The Right-Brained, But Right-Handed
Dilemma
Why I Am Attracted To
Surrealism
Artists vs. the Media
Into the Subconscious
Adults Are Too
“Mature” and “Hip” to Play Anymore
The Uncool
My Moment of Existential
Clarity
“Do
I Have Anything To Say?”
No New Ideas?!?
Where Do My Ideas or
Any Ideas Come From?
An Illustrated Journal
This Spark of
Inspiration
EVERYTHING IS CREATIVE
Expanding the Brain’s
Imagination Powers
Feeling the Most Alive with a Chaotic Hurt
My Artistic Superhero Superpowers
Looking Past the “Self-Indulgent”
Surface and Finding One’s Own Expression
Artistic Progression
Creating
Art as a War and Crusade
“Who Is It For?
The Love Art Blues
A Quicksand of Sensitivity
Having a Social Life
vs. Introspection of Art-Making
Too Artistic-Minded to Want to Raise
Children?
I’m
a Dream-Maker, Damn It
Fear of Having Children
The Quest to Be Creative and Be in a
Relationship at the Same Time
An Unhappy Creative
Life vs. a Happy
Finding Peace: How to
Be Happy as an Artist
My Long Road
Anti-Depressants
The
Family/ Art Spiritual Divide
The Ups and Downs of Family Gatherings
I Thrive Off of Eccentricity
Having Real Emotional and Mental Relations
An
Artist Amongst Family
Finally,
A Good Family Conversation
How a Conservative
Family with an Artist In It Grow Apart
“Creating Art on a Natural Emotional
High”
Anti-Drugs Advice
Being Anti-Drugs
Relatively Fortunate Circumstances
Problems with Selling
Your Artwork
"There's Too Many Movies In The
World For My Own" Crisis Question
Hollywood
= Hollowood
Film
Criticism Food for Thought
Don’t Compare Yourself
to Those Around You
An Artist Gaining a
Personal Life
Where Is My Audience?
An Artist without an
Audience
Controlling Your Light
Living On as an Artist
The Power Trip
Being Driven Isn’t
Enough
Artists Hold Nothing
Back
Steps to Improving
Your Art
It’s Just Not That
Simple
The Curse (or Gift) of
Being Ambitious and Depressed
Release
Both Versions of the Movie on a Single DVD
Funeral
Rights
Positive Personal Life
Changes/ Art Life Evolves
A Happy Ending to My
Personal Life
“For
No One”
Catch-22 of
Movie-Making
The Effects on an
Artist After Getting Marriage
Alas, My Personal Life
Wins Over My Artistic/ Emotional Life
Is
It All Worth It?
Encountering Someone
Else Who’s Made the Same Movie You Did
The Perils of Small
Independent Filmmaking
I'm
an Eccentric and an Artist Because…
Contemplating How Fast
Life Gets After 30
No Way to L.A. - "Say Goodbye to Hollywood"
The
Blur
"I
Love Growing Old"
I
Don't Want to Be Normal
Be
a Normal
Why
Even Make Art Anymore in Your Mid-Thirties?!? (Another Pre Mid-Life Crisis)
Slowing Down - Not As Much Time, Energy or Drive
Anymore
Music
and Art Are "Just Entertainment"?!??!!
We
All Want to Be the Dream of Superheroes
My Present Tense Goals
Random
Quotes
Sorta Says It All, Doesn't It?
“Who I Am As An Artist”
aka:
Everything You Wanted To Know About Eric Homan
(But Was Afraid To Ask)
Opening Quotes
2-4-11: "There's an awfully fine line between creative
and crazy… not to mention how similar they both sound." -Eric Homan.
Preface - “What’s It All For?”
12-23-98:
“After showing my sister Tanya my Zoo
interactive piece, she asked plainly, yet provocatively: “What is all of this for?... I mean, who is this for?” I had to
act. So I wrote my artist’s defense:”
The Purpose of All of This
7-29-10: This was written not just for those curious
about what an artist goes through in one’s life. But mainly, I wrote and edited
together these journal excerpts for those who have gone through loneliness. I
know these feelings well. I wish I had known another who was going through what
I was dealing with for so many years. So hopefully these words are helpful,
healing, empathetic, and cathartic to others who want to know that they are not
alone when dealing with this disease.
Why Make Art?
10-31-09: I've been compiling together all these
words as a personal exploration of why art is important as well as being
personally and emotionally significant. I wanted to address how it could affect
our humanity if we cannot express ourselves. How it would make us crazy and
violently destructive to one another. Use my “Portrait of a Digital Artist”
essays as content and personal narrative to learn from. I feel that my best
qualities are of stressing content and expressing emotion - no matter the risk.
Be fearless. Be alive. Make art and learn why.
What Drives Us?
3-23-04: What drives
us? Childhood memories? Dreams unfulfilled? Love unattained? Lack of attention?
Lack of money? Poverty driven? Dream driven? I’d like to know these things of
myself.
Forward
4-13-08: I felt compelled to write some sort of
forward to what you’re about to read because, for me, it’s like someone else
entirely wrote it. You see, the following writings were journal entries of
sorts for over a decade of my life that chronicles the ups and many downs of my
life as an artist. With every depressing episode I had, I have to acknowledge
that in a sense… it’s all been worth it. “I’ve made it.” I’ve gotten the
majority of what I wanted out of life. And like life, it still has its upsets
and disappointments. When you’re young, you aspire to such unrealistic dreams
and goals for one self, like becoming a major moviemaker like Steven Spielberg
and such. Of course, once you get older and wiser, you realize that Mr.
Spielberg had more than just talent on his side, but an enormous amount of
luck. And his life hasn’t always been a walk in the park just because he’s
gained a certain degree of mega-success.
How this all relates to my own life is that I also
wanted to make it big as a movie director when I was growing up to show all
those who teased me and doubted me when I was a kid. I was obsessive about it.
I worked like the devil possessed and maybe worked a bit too intensely to get
ahead. I made my life so much about being good at art that I eventually
neglected being good at being a personable human being.
So that is why I am here and now writing about where
my life is at now. Because what you’re about to read can be so honest, strange,
revealing, disturbing, cathartic, and emotional, you may not believe I will
ever be a happy and well-rounded person again. What one needs to realize is
that when I wrote the things I have, I was a different person in very different
times. I’m happy to disclose that I did find a way to a balance of my artistic
side with a personal life. I am engaged to be married to an absolutely
wonderful woman named Lisa. We own a lovely home in
Now
that doesn’t mean I don’t still get down or upset some days. I still face down
my depression sometimes, but I feel that I am gaining a greater sense of
control and confidence. I didn’t become a household name
And
as you read, know this: I still have my sense of humor intact. Remember that as
you proceed forward… with caution. My
life awaits.
" I've
been down the road and I've come back; lonesome
whistle on railroad track. Ain't got
nothing on those feelin's that I had. Something so hard to find: a
situation that can casu'lize your mind." -“Mellow My Mind” by Neil Young.
The Journal Dates
1-14-10: The reason I kept in the journal dates for
many of these entries is that I felt it was important for the reader to
understand the time and age I was writing these particular sections. The more
you read, the more it becomes about the growth and maturity of an artist and a
human being. The way I feel in 2010 is not the same way I felt in 2000. This is
why I found it essential to understand that these writings are for very
different versions of myself from very unique and special time periods. Though
the me of today may not agree or think the way I used to in 2003 or 1998 or
whenever, I still find that version of myself to be a rather interesting
personality type with an intensely passionate point of view on life. I may or
may not have that same kind of passion and articulated perspective I do now.
Therefore these writings are the story of an artist's growth selected through
my journals.
Personal Advisory
9-3-10:
The following entries are dated when they were written. This is extremely
important to note because I am not the same person I was when I first wrote
these journal entries. So please don't take them out on me of the present
tense. The "me" of 2003 is somewhat of a stranger to the
"me" of 2010. That's why I can share these journals. They're
informative and deeply personal. Yet they're also so far removed from who I am
today that I feel comfortable sharing them. They're from a totally different mindset and emotional circumstances. So
understand that and be sensitive to that fact when reading them.
Personal Intro:
“Hello,
my name is Eric Homan. And please, call me ‘Eric’.”
Believe me, this is a great privilege to
be able to present a statement of who I am as an artist, why I do computer art,
and what my art pieces are about. When I see a gallery show of a particular
artist’s work, I find myself always looking for and reading the artist’s
statement with great interest for its additional background, complexity, and
insight on their art that isn’t directly expressed in the work itself. This is
especially helpful when experiencing art that is self-expressive and
surrealistic. With the additional explanation from the artist, I often find
myself empathizing and appreciating the work more on a personal basis, as if I
was let in on its secrets and emotions. I hope you find my following comments,
philosophies, and explanations just as revealing and enlightening. “Let me show
you the contents of my artistry...”:
Statement Intro
Throughout
most of my childhood and up into adulthood, people who knew me told me that I
didn't talk much. Well that's true - unless it's about a topic that I actually
do have something to say about. I
won't talk about sports if they're not interesting to me. But if it's about
certain specific topics involving art, movies, music, or emotions - I have
plenty to express. I only speak when I feel it's necessary and worthwhile. I
don't want to waste my time or energy on boring chit-chat small talk
conversations. When a topic arises that I feel deeply about, I express it
passionately like a man possessed.
So
the following essays are topics that I felt a need to express. If I didn't feel
that they were important enough to write about, I wouldn't have bothered. They
exist before I consciously choose for them to
exist and be read. They are not the average, ordinary banter. They have
meaning to me and hopefully to many other people as well. I wish to share my
sensitivity through my art and writing.”
I realized that there is a key
ingredient missing from the majority of artwork that I look at. As an anonymous
viewer, I am lacking a personal relationship with the artists. I don’t
personally know them. Just imagine how much you feel for a friend or
family member’s artwork than you would normally for some stranger’s artwork.
The personal connection is what makes you see into the soul of the art. So that
is why I choose to write so extensively and exhaustively my “Artist’s
Statements” in order to make that personal connection with those who experience
my artwork. I want them to know about me in order to feel about
the artwork. If you understand my background and where the artwork came from,
then the work takes on an entirely new and enhanced sensitive meaning. I ever
so desperately want my work to matter. So I put in the time and energy to make
it so. I hope it shows that I cared enough to share my inner life with
you.
My Formal Biography
Short Version #1
Eric Homan is an assistant professor who teaches Motion Graphics, Computer
Animation, and Video classes at the Columbus College of Art and Design in
downtown Columbus, Ohio. He earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in
Time-Based Media Studies from CCAD in 1998 and
received his Master of Fine Arts degree in Computer Arts at Florida Atlantic
University in 2000. Eric employs his skills of using computers as a means of
communication and self-expression. He has received several awards from around
the world for his artwork, including a Telly Award in 2001 for his computer
animation piece “Life Forms”. In 2004, Eric began a foray into documentary
filmmaking with “Treasures of the Hocking Hills” and “David Hostetler: Artist
In Nature”, both focusing on the artist communities in southeastern Ohio. He
followed these up with various projects, especially “Western Heavens on Earth”,
an artistic exploration of the American West, and “Comic Book Culture”, an
examination of the comic book allure of someone who seeks creativity. He
specializes in digital video, 3D animation, digital compositing, motion
graphics, interactive art, and sound design.
Eric
Homan, assistant professor,
Media Studies and Animation, teaches and specializes in video, motion graphics,
and computer animation. He has received several awards from around the world
for his artwork, including a Telly Award in 2001 for his computer animation
piece "Life Forms." His documentary films
include Treasures of the Hocking Hills, David Hostetler: Artist in
Nature, Western Heavens on Earth, and Comic Book Culture. BFA,
CCAD; MFA, Florida Atlantic University. Web site: www.erichoman.com
Long Version #1
How to sum up one's life in a matter of paragraphs?
I'll do my best:
I was born and raised in Coldwater, Ohio, a small
town of about 5,000 people on the western-middle section of the state.
Coldwater is best known most as a sports town where their high school sporting
teams go to state championships almost every year in football, basketball, and
baseball. There just isn't that much to do in a small town, so therefore sports
ruled all. Though I liked some sports, I found myself veering away from that
lifestyle as I grew up. Around the age of 15, I found myself developing a
talent for creative writing. Yet I absolutely loved movies, adored music, and
treasured reading comics and graphic novels. These were my central passions. I
never quite fit in with the rest of my peers since someone who is
"creative" and a dreamer doesn't fit in much with a town full of
jocks and cheerleaders surrounded by miles of cornfields. I was determined to
make something of myself in the field of the arts. Being an outside for most of
my youth instilled me with the dire need of having something to prove to the
world.
After visiting various colleges and universities, I
found myself most in kin with the Columbus College of Art and Design in
Columbus, OH, two hours east of where I lived. After graduation and in the fall
of 1995, I began classes at this premiere art school with a major in Media
Studies. Though I had never used a video camera or done any sort of animation,
I felt compelled to by my passions and enthusiasm to make something of myself
as a media artist. Through my years at CCAD, I found myself focusing and
eventually excelling in video, computer animation, and interactive design. It
was during my senior year that I made the fateful decision that my career path
would be in teaching. This wasn't too hard of a decision to make since I came
from a family of teachers with my parents both being high school teachers and
my two older sisters being teachers. I also felt that my creativity wasn't a
good match for Hollywood that insisted on recycling their own ideas rather than
come up with something fresh and exciting. I also felt that with teaching I
could still do my own personal projects and freelance work while sustaining
myself with my teaching income.
My decision to teach then led me to seeking out
graduate school. After a couple of rejections at my first two choices, I got
lucky upon discovering the Center for Electronic Communication at Florida
Atlantic University in Ft. Lauderdale. This former research facility in
computer graphics had just opened up a new graduate program and I was fortunate
enough to be one of the first students to be accepted into the program. So
after my graduation from CCAD in May of 1998 (I had a year's worth of transfer
credits since I took part in the Post-Secondary program where I took college
classes during my senior year), I moved to southern Florida to start my
graduate studies in August 1998. I thought my work load was crazy heavy at
CCAD. Graduate school was a whole new ballgame. I quickly found myself working
upwards to 80-100 hours per week to become as good as I could be as a computer
artist working in computer animation and digital video. It took me about a year
to gain enough confidence with the Maya 3D software. It was a great challenge
to juggle the creative "right-brain" side of my brain with the
analytical "left-brain" side of my brain. But once I did, I found
myself able to express myself with a whole new artistic freedom. And what
pushed me forward was my continued passion for expressing myself and for the
medium I was working in.
During my second year of graduate studies, I was
fortunate enough to be selected to become a teaching assistant and help teach
undergraduate classes in teaching 3D computer modeling and animation. It was a
huge leap forward for me in terms of gaining teaching experience and overcoming
my own shyness and introverted personality! Then during my last semester, I
gained the rank of associate professor and taught a class fully by myself. Talk
about trial by fire. Yet still, I managed to take what I've learned, organize
and articulate, and learn how to communicate it effectively and patiently! All
the while I was teaching, I was working incredible hours finishing up my
year-long senior thesis computer art animation project, "Life Forms".
Eventually, I completed my graduate studies in May of
2000. In an incredible amount of luck, I was offered a teaching position at the
Center for Electronic Communication since a position was available. So
therefore, I didn't have to move upon graduation. I suddenly went from student
to Research Assistant where I continued to teach classes, work in the Center,
and help out the graduate students with their projects. All the while, I
fulfilled my objective of finding a job where I was working while still
remaining true to myself, my goals, dreams, and visions. I could still use the
technology around me at the Center to keep working on my own personal computer
art projects and becoming an even better artist. In 2000 and 2001, I sent my work
out to various festivals. My work managed to get into a few and "Life
Forms" won a Telly Award in 2001. Then in May of 2001, I gained the rank
of Assistant Professor. I went on to teach a fulltime load of class: 3D
Modeling, 3D Computer Animation, and Digital Compositing.
Then things took a turn for the worse. Just as things
seemed to be going so well, 9/11 happened. Though the devastating events of
that day happened hundreds of miles away, the aftershocks of that day continued
to have an economic impact across the nation, especially in Florida. People
stopped flying and tourism in Florida took a huge hit. State tax revenue from
tourism was one of the main financial contributors to state universities. So
once tourism plummeted, the university budgets were frozen and heavily cut
back. So by the end of the year, I was informed that my job position would not
be continued after my contract was up in May of 2002. I was shocked.
Yet as fate and good timing would have it, I had
received an email two months prior from Ron Saks, the then chair of the Media
Studies department at CCAD. He was informing me that there would be two new
fulltime teaching positions added to the Media Studies department in the fall
of 2002. So upon learning that my days were numbered at FAU, I quickly got my
demo reel together and sent it in to CCAD. After several months of waiting, I
found out in April 2002 that I was accepted into one of those two positions at
CCAD. I had lucked out with good timing and fortunate contacts!
So in May of 2002, I moved back to Columbus, OH and
began teaching fulltime in the fall semester of 2002. Happy with a more private
school art college environment, I've continued teaching at CCAD ever since. I
went on to teach a wide variety of classes: Computer Animation I, Video I,
Video II, Video III, Motion Graphics, and Advanced Time-Based Projects. The
best part of teaching is helping other people, passing on some valuable
knowledge, and being around fellow creative human beings. There are days where
I can't help but be thankful for the route I took with my life. And all the
while, I kept making videos and animations that I wanted to see and make. I
kept my complete creative freedom and my soul in tack.
Yet that didn't mean I turn down good freelance
projects when they come around. The main source of freelance work came in
documentary work. The most prominent project I worked
on was a grant-funded documentary "Treasures of the Hocking Hills” (2004)
about artists in the southeastern side of Ohio. I was a one-man moviemaking
crew where I worked as director, videographer, and editor for 41-minute
documentary. Other prominent projects was the 19-minute documentary "David
Hostetler: Artist In Nature”, which expanded upon the footage shot from the
"Treasures…" project. I also worked as a videographer/ editor for a
75-minute video deposition documentary, "Peggy’s Story”, involving a
junior high teacher who was involved in a horrible car accident. After that, I
worked on several smaller video freelance opportunities that came my way,
including a video piece for the Hocking Hills Tourism Association. I also had a stint as a music video director and
documentarian in 2001-2002 for Atom Troy for Sony Records when I was down in
South Florida.
For my own personal video/ animation projects, I
continued to passionately work. "Western
Heavens on Earth" (2006) was a 1 1/2 hour documentary about
some of American West's greatest National Parks (Yellowstone, Badlands). "Comic Book Culture" (2008) was a 40
minute documentary examination of the comic book
allure of someone who seeks new ideas, imagination, and creativity. In addition
for over a decade, I continued to make personal art pieces - experimental video
and animation to various documentary shorts. I continued to force myself to challenge
myself to discovering something new about myself through my art while excelling
my own skills with the software that I teach with.
My other main passions have been
digital photography and writing, two areas of my life that I am constantly
taking part in. There has not been a day since 1993 that I didn't do some
degree of journal/ creative writing. It has been my main outlet for most of my
adult life. Music, movies, and comics have been additional sources of artistic
fuel for me that keep me being creative, expressing myself, and finding my way
through life.
I also managed to find my
"soul mate" in my life through my wife Lisa that I met in late summer
of 2006. By July of 2008, we married and bought a house in Dublin, Ohio. She
has been a "grounding" force to my life who continues to keep me
"realistic" while keeping me positive. I credit her with giving me a
stability to my life that I've always craved. Though she'd laugh at the
comment, she's a real angel.
So that's my life summed up. I
hope you enjoyed it. It's had plenty of high and low points, but I've continued
on. I've struggled, succeeded, failed, but still continued on. If you're
interested in my life and learning things in much greater detail, I've worked
on a few extremely comprehensively written personal essays. "The Empathy
Files" details what artists, musicians, movie directors, and various
others have influenced and inspired me throughout my life. "Portrait of an
Introspective Digital Artist" provides an extremely honest and candid look
into my personal journey as an artist through exerts from my journals
throughout the years. For more examples of my art, go to www.erichoman.com. Thanks
for reading!
Eric Homan
A Mini-Snapshot of My Life
1-19-02:
I’m just a guy who works a great deal on computers on digital artwork and
journal writing. You can see how much work I’ve done and notice that I
obviously don’t go out regularly, date much, party much, or live an extroverted
life. If you ever have a conversation with me, you will realize by my vast
movie knowledge that I spend my free time to watch good movies. If you’ve
visited my apartment, you will notice how obsessive I am about music and how I
use it as a fuel to do creative artwork for years. If you spend a month with
me, you would know how many migraines I have to live with.
Examples of My Computer Artwork
Describing
the content my artwork, I would explain my pieces as Surrealism mixed with
Expressionism with touches of Dadaism for humor. A friend of mine eloquently
labeled me “The ‘Vincent van Dali’ of Computer Art”, which I liked. My pieces
vary from 3D animated haiku visual poems (“Life Forms”) to an interactive
experience piece (“Vincent van Gogh Working at McDonald’s”) to abstract 3D
animated paintings visualizing elemental intercourse (“Rainbow Twister Sex”).
My Personal Expression
This
written artistic statement pretty much sums up the majority of what there is to
know about me and why I create art. I wrote down the following because I have
an overwhelming amount to express about a tremendous number of artistic and
technological topics. I specifically wrote down what I feel because I can’t verbalize it coherently and fully. It’s
simply too much information and emotion. I needed the time to be inspired to
record it into words and present it as a paper or art piece. I needed to
coordinate and organize my ideas before I can fully express myself. When I do
speak in public, I usually stutter or mutter my words because I’m trying to
express dozens of ideas and feelings at once! What it all comes down to is that
I make art out of passionate self-expression - nothing more. Not for money, not
for women, not for fame. I desire to communicate who I am so people will feel
what I’ve felt. The following writings are a testament to who I am as an
individual artist.
The
following honest explanations are my way of spelling
out why I’ve acted the way I have and chosen the route of “artist”. Writing it
all down, I can reach more than one person so I don’t have to explain myself
all over again and use up more time and energy. Besides I can express myself
better through writing than I can through on the spot speaking it. It’s also my
therapy for myself. It’s for others to understand me better so they won’t feel
confused about me. Writing all of this is like confession. I was forced to
examine myself and strip down my guard to let my soul breathe.
Asserting
My Hidden Inner Voice
4-24-05: I have come to realize that I don’t always
have much to say out loud in public. I’m an introspective thinker that ponders
and dreams on one’s existence and the life surrounding myself. So I finally
asset myself fully and roundly when it comes to writing. I need that moment of
reflection and quiet to analyze and take notes of what’s around me in order to
have something meaningful and enlightening to share with others. This is how I
best communicate. I write from my own life experience. I write from the movies
I watch or about the music I listen to. I write from the (night and day) dreams
I have. I write from my hurricane imagination. These are my passions. So it’s a
grand irony when people find me boring on some occasions when they are out and
about with me. I am usually quiet and reserved, unless stirred with charismatic
conversation or inspiration. Strangers and casual observers find me almost
shallow and withdrawn. But this is not the case. They see a silent surface
without witnessing the deeper, hidden content within. I do not thrive in a
crowded social environment. I am a dreamer, and I work best in times of peace
and quiet. I feel the most free when I am in nature, and that probably speaks
volumes. So here are the thoughts boiling inside my brain. My mind is always
active, though I do get tired when overstimulated or overwhelmed by my
surroundings. Give me space and give me time to pour my heart and emotions and
opinions on.
My Artistic Turning Point
“We
have all been changed by our tragedies.” –from the comic book Justice #12.
It
was an unexpected date to be a turning point: October 12, 1996 – Columbus Day.
It happened to be the worst date of my young adult life that involved the
ultimate tragic surrealism: this was the day that my mother was killed in a car
accident. It became the defining moment in the development of my life and for
my artwork. From that moment on, my art steered into being more
self-expressive, personal, and introspective instead of commercial, shallow,
and superficial. This devastating trauma at my young adult age of twenty simply
altered my artwork to have a more personal, deeper meaning. My mom had always
personified all that was good and kind in my life. Realizing that some driver
who was driving too fast had senselessly killed her, I had to reexamine my
chaotic feelings in order to survive my overwhelming grief. Art was my main
lifeguard, my saving grace, my spiritual salvation.
In
order to fully understand the insanity of this event, you have to know what
type of a woman my mother was. My mom was extremely polite, innocent,
kind, sweet, generous, supportive, cheerful, always smiling, and deeply
religious in her Catholicism. To have such a positive existence destroyed so
senselessly, and on a day when she was on the way home from doing volunteer
work when some @sshole was passing two other cars over a hill in no-pass lane
was the key to unleashing the madness to this life. It was too devastating and
numbing at the same time. I couldn’t decide to cry or chock up. I had to find
something to hold onto to save myself. Creating art was my release.
I recall during the end of my mother’s viewing before
the funeral ceremony that my two sisters, my mother’s two sisters, my father,
and myself were allowed to have several minutes alone beside our mother before
they permanently closed the casket. At my mother’s casket, I made a private
prayer/ oath that I’d make her proud and I wouldn’t let her down. I’d
make something good of myself... that I’d never give up... that I’d do my very
best. It was overwhelmingly
intense proclamation of my dedication to becoming a great artist instead
of a good artist. It was the start of an obsessive quest for pride and
glory. There was an almost delusional intensity to my promise. At my most
vulnerable and emotional, I endearingly declared to make something of my life
instead of an average anybody. And so began my odyssey of working harder and focusing myself
completely on fulfilling this renewed obsession with becoming great –
something I’ve felt deep down inside of myself since I was a boy. I had to make
something of myself. I had to work hard… and dream harder than the rest.
Her
death woke up my emotions to express them in artistic means. It was also during
this experience that I sensed my artistic styles. Surrealism and Expressionism
was discovering that your mother is dead and the world goes on just as if
nothing tragic had happened to anybody else. Life’s state of insanity had to
hit home in order to provoke me to feel deeper and find harmony to my life
through doing art. Though great movies and art had always stimulated immense
emotion out of me (i.e., Schindler’s List and van Gogh’s “The Crows”),
they usually didn’t last with me. Her
death did. With my emotional barriers
open and raw, I couldn’t help but release my feelings. Her death defined where
my artwork would go: into a strongly emotional, introspective direction instead
of a commercial path. With too many questions conflicting me, I had to find
answers - so I created them in my art. Indeed, art dulled the pain of my
mother’s death. As a result, I filled myself with peace by creating art.
Instead of seeing a psychiatrist, I decided to talk through my art.
“It’s
only after you’ve lost everything that you’re free to do everything.” -a
line of dialogue from the film Fight Club.
This
change in artistic tide could best be exemplified through a storyboard piece I
did weeks after my mother’s death. The raw and brutal visuals and emotions in
“The Falls” shows how much anguish I had that needed to be released -
immediately.
Coincidentally,
I later read up and found out that some of my personal favorite musicians had
also lost their mothers in car-related accidents when they were a young,
impressionable age: John Lennon, Bono, Sinead O’ Connor….
“Eulogy for My
Mother”
7-11-02: (Or the sermon I
would have given at her funeral service): “As you have seen already, us
children of my recently departed mother have taken part in the service of this
funeral mass. Lara gave the First
(I’m
not sure if I did a good job. I only managed to express about 10% of what I
originally wanted to say.)
Going through the sudden death of a loved one is
perhaps one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. The death of my
mother made me emotionally dead from delirium off and on for several months. I
would cry hysterically some days to myself in my bedroom during the weeks after
the tragedy. The melancholy insanity would hit me at anytime. I remember having
to hold back from breaking down while in class, in a school hallway, on the way
back to my apartment, or at church. It was a terrifying time to be alive
because I wasn’t sure when the pain would fade away. It’s amazing how I managed
to keep myself together through the cathartic artwork I made while I was a
student at an art school. I survived. I never completely fell apart. I
always had the work to get me motivated to have something to put my
mind, emotions, and talent to. It saved my life from emotional implosion.
Memories of My Mother
6-12-02: I was
scanning through several hundred family photos tonight when I came across
images of my mom. To my subtle shock, I realized I didn’t know her anymore. She
had faded from my memory. She also isn’t in many photographs since she was
usually the one who was taking all the pictures. I listened to a recording of
her on a cassette tape. The final part where she is recounting her life as of
present and of the future haunts me to this day: “At present, I am 55 years old
and I plan to retire in three years. I don’t really have any plans when I
retire – but I do pray that God will lead me to do whatever work he wants me to
do.” She was tragically killed in a car accident four years later.
I Should Be Dead
6-23-01: After
reading through my journals, I discovered that Mom had invited Phyllis and I to
come along with her to King’s
I’m dead in a
separate reality.
These Very Words
Should Not Exist
5-15-02: I
nearly died on several occasions in my life. One, my mother asked me if my then
girlfriend and I wanted to come along with her to King’s
Living with the
Knowledge that I Should Be Dead
4-27-04:
I later realized that I was supposed to have
gone down to King’s
Sometimes, I start to deeply wonder how I
ever managed to get into movies, comic books, and van Gogh because I never had
anyone in my youth who inspired me to relish these things. Somehow, my
curiosity led me to the library or a bookstore where I discovered them. I
sought out these places because I was bored by my surroundings in a small town
(sports, parties with beer, high school). Logically, I should have gone to a
“normal” college majoring in education because that was what my parents and
sisters did. Were all those years of teasing and rejections so upsetting that I
didn't want to take part in their world anymore? I had to find a route through
dreams in order to escape from normalcy and to become a better person.
I
have been asked one singular question in regards to my artwork and writing that
I’ve created throughout the years: “So what is this for?” In no simpler terms, I had something to
express and I expressed it. I had the time and I used it. I existed so I
expressed it. It was that simple. I rose up to the challenge of making a mark
on society by producing original thoughts, self-expressions, personal visions,
and creative insights. I didn’t want to go through life without having
something to say. (I appear all too shy in ordinary appearance, but I was
flooding up inside with something close to art to get out of me.) I had an
artistic oasis inside my brain that I needed to bath in. Dreams were the gold
and diamonds of life. Out of an unkind desperation, I had to express myself. I
had no choice. Most dreams are born out of
desperation. Or else why dream? Maybe crazy dreams are what keep us sane. So I suppose I made all this artwork that took me
literally thousands upon thousands of hours to do for myself… with the hope
that others would relate to it as well. Hell, everyone has dreams. I just wanted to be someone with something to contribute.
If
anyone ever asks me why I do art, I will respond with this: “I feel the most
alive when I am being creatively active. That is when I feel the greatest joy
and ecstasy.” Some critics might call this “getting high off of dreams
instead of off drugs”. Yes, they are correct.
Art as “Entertainment” Therapy
Because
art is an aesthetic medium and can emotionally move and please a wide range of
people, art is “entertainment” therapy. Art could convey a message or emotional
reaction while others experience and “enjoy” it. In the end, the art became
therapy for the artist and the audience as well, in relation to how much they
empathize. I
became an art psychiatrist. I usually create art to define who I was as a human being at
a certain time in my life. It’s always quite an experience to look back and see
who I was in years gone by. How rewarding to explore myself and possibly help
others through the creative process.
“Artist’s Statement”: A Universal Personal
Art Experience
3-22-02: My art is a personal experience because
life is a universal personal
experience. For example, everyone can remember where they were when they heard
the news when John Kennedy was shot, or when the Challenger exploded, or when
the
“Empathy Art”
I
describe my work as being art made for the viewer’s empathy, understanding, and
catharsis: a self-exploration that occurs in the art and is transmuted into the
viewer. The ingredient that makes this art empathetic is that the work has to
be sincere, in quality and emotion, for others to feel, relate, and react to.
My pieces were created out of conflicted emotions (pain and happiness, ecstasy
and numbness, imagination and mediocrity, self-discovery and repression) in
order to find emotional resolution in my life and work. I will not deny the
sense of anguish in most of my pieces - but I feel that it is hurt that needs to be addressed, released, and resolved through
an artistic process in order to arrive with a greater aesthetic whole. Art
helps us re-calibrate our perspective on life as well as enrich our lives with
meaning. Sometimes it takes a cathartic piece of self-expression to sharpen our
senses and retune our imagination. What I’ve expressed was of honest beauty (or
repulsive honesty, depending on one’s point of view). The results were, for me,
a body of artwork through which I am giving back the emotions, fantasy, and
reality that I have lived through to the world. The content tended to be
surreal and expressionist - but that was
what I experienced out of living. It was honesty, not fantasy that I was
recording.
Dealing with Feelings
Art,
for me, is dealing with feelings. Instead of building up emotions to the point
of self-destruction, we can release ourselves and grow from the experience of
revealing ourselves. And through this cathartic experience, one can help others
understand themselves.
The
Collective Experience
I want my art to touch the vulnerability in all of us
so we can all feel that vulnerability together. It’s a collective experience.
We’re all sensitive, vulnerable human beings no matter who you are. We have
feelings. So let’s touch them through art.
Some Family and Personal Background
To understand my artwork better, you need to know part of
the history of my past and where I came from. I grew up in a heavily religious
family in
There was a point during the fifth grade when I became a
sensitive human being. I was getting teased and harassed like crazy for being
different. I liked two girls in my class and being mocked in front of them
devastated me on a daily basis. At home, I would be cruel and tease my older
sister Tanya for being “fat” and overweight when we got into a fight. I was
just venting my frustrations upon someone else. Well, the teasing I was getting
at school started to show too deeply from my increasingly withdrawn and erratic
behavior. I was desperate for the cruelty against me to stop so those girls
might like me. My mother went to see my teacher to see what could be done about
stopping the psychological terror on me. When my mom came home to report about
their meeting, she disclosed that I had teased one of my classmates in the
classroom who was also one of my few friends. At that moment of truth and
revelation, I sunk into an abyss of guilt that I was part of the problem. I was
degrading other people just as those bullies were doing to me. I wasn’t any
better than them. It was at that moment that I realized my actions and decided
I had to change for the better. That was the spark that started my sensitivity.
I Am
a Powerless Super-Hero, But an Empowered Artist
Ever since I was a young boy getting picked on at school,
I’ve been obsessed about becoming a superhero. The cruel reality was that I
didn’t have any super powers in order to help defend myself and impress the
girls. So I had to make one for myself. So I took on the guise of “Artist” with
creativity as my super power. But since my artwork ended up being about
personal expression and conflicted emotions, I turned into an anti-hero instead
of a hero.
My Adolescent Turning
Point
From my journal (3-2-94):
March 2nd,
1990: the monumental date that marks the biggest turning point in my life while
I was growing up… ever. It was the day I was caught forging my
mother’s signature and found myself personally humiliated before my class. I
was used to other people embarrassing and teasing me. This time, it was from
me. And so, I had a minor, little breakdown. I cried while desperately trying
to hold back the tears. I realized that my hard fought life wouldn’t be worth a
cent if I didn’t start to change. Fortunately, I did make a
change in my life… starting on that day. Making that decision was a crucial moment where I had to choose to
be “good” or “bad”. That is why I have always considered it one of the most
prominent moments in my life.
At that time in my life, I was
hanging out with the outcast crowd of loser kids in seventh grade who were
about a year away from going bad.
I enjoyed the freedom they offered, especially during lunch when we’d leave the
school and walk to the local grocery store with the other “rebel” kids and eat
junk food. Then instead of playing basketball with all the other kids, we’d
hide out by a corner school heater until fifth period class started. The
empathic friend I hung out with, Cory Eichen, who was sort of like my alternate
reality version of myself if I didn’t shape up, would later truly go
“bad” by sexually assaulting a girl three years later and soon dropping out of
school from too many school suspensions. He didn’t find any point to going to a
school where your peers degraded and destroyed you. He was a casualty of the
teasing us “geeks” received. I understood.
From my Journals: 1-5-94
Cory Eichen: a past, good friend of mine from 7th grade who
has completely (pardon my English) fucked up his life. Of course, our
classmates and bullies had something to do with it. You see, we were
very much alike back in the 7th grade. Both of us had countless
problems and were equally harassed. We found comfort in each other’s company
after lunch by hanging out in a secluded corner of the hallway. Yet somehow, I
strayed off on to the best path possible for myself while Cory kept to himself
and remained getting teased on the way to Juttes grocery store, which only led
to fights. I believe that teasing made him lose control of his life. You can
either get better or worse when you get to the end of the line. You have to
make a decision. We lived parallel lives until that point of decision and no
return. I choose the hard, longer path by shaping up, working harder on my
studies, and “ignoring” the teasing and people who wanted to “fight me”. Cory
choose the regular, same old path. God, some days I wish I could have helped
him. But now it’s too late. He probably will serve time in prison (maybe for
life) now that’s he’s gone out and nearly raped a girl/ his “girlfriend”. Maybe
one day he’ll do himself in and do something worse and find himself receiving
the death penalty (let alone suicide). Time will tell its secrets. It’s only a
matter of time.
1-13-94 By the way, Cory
Eichen was so wrong and so right. He took on the evils of life and got caught.
He “absorbed” the evil that was around him, all the teasing that people did to
him, and became it.
And through the years, I strayed away
from the public crowd of irrelevance and went on my own path for personal
success.
Now, here I am, a successful student,
worker, friend, and “visionary”. Who ever said patience is a key to a fine
future must have been right. I am a successful person. Now that I can’t believe
especially when I’ve grown up to be a young man. Unbelievable.
One of my earliest goals for an ideal career choice for me was to be a Disney Imagineer who designed theme park attractions. The Disney parks and the other roller coaster parks enchanted me. It was like escaping reality by entering a fantasy place on earth. That was the childlike awe attraction. As a self-proficient dreamer, I felt I could contribute to creating my own physical dreams. When I was in the fourth grade, I would construct highly detailed miniature cardboard amusement parks, complete with pizza concession stands. I drew out wildly exciting designs for a new Disney water park. One segment took place on a pirate ship where you could walk the plank and dive into the crystal clear water that was filled with exotic fish and gorgeous (fake) coral. Mermaids would swim by and blow kisses at you.
One
of my earliest ambitions as a young boy for a possible career when I grew up
was to be a great explorer. As I grew up through elementary school, I sadly
realized that 99.99% of earth has already been discovered. I had been born too
late to discover
I recall back to the eighth grade for me and how I
was seeing the light red-haired school guidance consoler, Earl Klosterman, who
was a school acquaintance of my father’s. I went to see him twice a week to
talk to him about my “problems”. I mainly talked about how I had low
self-esteem from getting teased and how nervous I was about having girls like
me. He encouraged me to do something that would make my peers respect me and
get the attention of the opposite sex: do well in sports. Since this was a
small town in Midwest
I grew up in a hometown where
winning in sports was how you became popular or “the man of the hour”. People
would work so hard on being good in sports to feel good. I rarely had athletic
abilities and would usually lose horribly to the point where it made me look
absurd. Eventually, I started having fun with the ridiculousness, not care
anymore about even trying to win, and have fun with how surrealistically bad I
was. I recall going bowling for Phy. Ed. And bowling a score of 31 with over a
dozen gutter balls. Meanwhile, my classmates and peers were bowling and
bragging about their high scores. It was a way of getting attention… especially
of girls and how they were always attracted to the sports stars. I figured I
could brag about how pointless sporting events were by playing wildly poorly. I
learned hard about the stupidity of competitiveness. I lived through twelve
years of this insanity. I’d rather be doing something meaningful with
expressing myself through my art and intellect – not with physical activities
or a touchdown. The pain and anguish I continuously was subjected to fueled my
obsessive desire to distinguish myself through creating great art. Creativity
was my special ability that I knew how to win with. The canvas was my
playfield. Yet there wasn’t any audience for people to see my skills. It was a
sports town and the arts were barely supported, let alone encouraged. Life in a
small
I
struggled socially throughout my twelve years in school. I was an obedient
teenager and devout Christian. Yet something inside me felt a desperate need to
rebel and escape my strict religious upbringing. Moreover, I was working as a
janitor during my high school years. All I could do was dream obsessively about
leaving my hometown where sports were endorsed and the arts were shunned. When
I got to art school at the Columbus College of Art and Design in
My Sporting Event Is
The Creative Arts
4-7-03: So I wasn’t good at sports, here’s something
I am good at: computer and creative arts. Doing art became my sporting
events. It's the creative arts, after all.
Being Different in a
From the small
town hometown where I came from, there were so many things that would make you
into an outcast. If you didn’t go to a bible study, you were looked upon
differently and seen as an outcast. If you didn’t like sports or go to sporting
events, you were seen as suspicious. If you didn’t attend church regularly, you
were seen as strange. In a town where everyone knows who the other person is,
it is impossible to remain anonymous and without looking down upon if you are
different. This is where cities were so strangely refreshing with their
isolation and diversity. People just didn’t care if you didn’t go to church.
There’s so many others who don’t that it didn’t matter. If your majority is
suddenly a minority in a city, they don’t look down on others so much. But in a
small town where the community is definitely the majority, you can feel
extremely isolated and alienated by being yourself – different.
Much of my art emerged from no-hope environments that
I grew up in. Growing up in a small town forces you to dream big. I became a
quintessential small town dreamer. Graduating from an art school forces you to
experiment and do anything. Not getting through to girls or your family forces
you to work even harder on your artwork to get them to notice you. I had nothing
to lose by creating the artwork I did with the feelings I possessed. I wanted
my work to have an interactive catharsis to it that the viewer could
experience. It would be one glorious universal breakdown of emotion through
chromatic visual urgency.
There is something about small towns that are
innocent at heart. They are so removed from the speed and complication of big
cities. Growing up in one clearly shaped up I ended up as. I remember my mother
warning me about how corrupting moving to the city might be for me. I’d be
exposed to things that I normally wouldn’t be in a small town where drugs don’t
exist. No abortions. No crime. People don’t lock their doors. There is
something about the impersonal feeling of city life that can make you feel like
you’re rotting from the inside with loneliness and isolation. In a small town,
you’ve got a community of people looking out for you. In a city, you’ve got
yourself and a small band of people who you might call friends. In a small town
there is only one religion – a Christian religion. In the city, you’re
bombarded with a buffet of religious options and possibilities – even none at
all if you like. In a small town, you’ve got quiet and boredom. In the city,
you’ve got noise and activity. They’ve both got their faults and imperfections.
Some can’t stand either of them. In a small town, it’s a perfect area to raise
children. In a city, you can make more money. In a small town, you can keep
your home and car unlocked without worrying if anyone will break in. In the
city, you’re always double-checking if the doors are locked and secure. In a
small town, you trust your neighbors. In a city, you don’t know who your
neighbors are. In a small town, you’ve got only one ethnicity. In the city,
you’ve got dozens. In a small town, no one is gay, bisexual, or even
“bi-curious”. People even wait until marriage to have sex. It’s like a whole
world stuck in a good-natured, 1950s past. They’re so outside of what’s
happening that they never quite catch up. They’re still stuck behind. The one
thing that small towns do have in replacement of drugs is alcohol. Because it’s
legal and cheap, most everyone drinks heartily. Alcoholism is a commonplace
development in a small town world with nothing to do. It breaks the idyllic world
of small town life. But in the city, things are just that much more complicated
by having too many people around that aren’t quite the same, that don’t speak
the same languages, make the same general income, or have the same religious
practices. In a small town, at least you can relate to those around you by
default since they’re your same ethnic, religious, and economic background.
Most everyone is middle-class in a small town with a few lower-income and
higher-income families. But otherwise, everyone is humbly on the same level. In
a city, you’re surrounded and overwhelmed by the diversity. At times, it is
extremely refreshing, yet also suffocating. There are sometimes too many
differences. To go from a world where everyone is heterosexual to suddenly
encounter homosexuals can be an extremely surreal experience. To go from
Caucasian to African-American, Latino, Asian, let alone Texan! It’s like the
world went upside down if you come from a small town that you’ve rarely ever
left and explored the outside world. You’ve always felt secluded and isolated,
surrounded by corn fields and farmlands for hundreds of miles. I’m not saying
that small towns are perfect, but they are guarded from aspects of urban life
that can corrode one’s self through the years. Imagine a world without crime,
drugs, racism, or deceit. Small towns uphold more central family values than
anywhere else. Being removed from speed and slowing life down can make you see
the world in a more peaceful, calmer point of view. And yet many people who
live in small towns dream of being in the city for more things to do… to have
more fun. The scent of pig manure can get to one after a while. Things in the
big city are much more confusing. And out of the confusion brings stress,
anguish, depression, and exhaustion. It can cloud your better judgments and
spoil your innocence.
Escaping Small Town
Life
6-22-02: In my
’94 journals, I was even describing the first signs of personal torment of
being introverted and creative in a small town social and athletic community. I
obsessed so deeply to get out of that community by any means necessary. If I stayed, I would have died. If I had to
work hard and spend dozens of hours each week on my artwork and drawing skills,
I would. Sacrificing my social life, family, and friends was somewhat easier
since I wasn’t much of a conversationalist. I never felt like I was fitting in
to that world. I only knew I had to get out. All the pranks, teasing,
and crank calls my family was getting was driving me insane. I had to escape
into something. So I dove into art.
High School Revenge Fantasies
6-27-02: While writing out my December ’93 journals, I came
across a dark fantasy where I wanted to kill dozens of my classmates who teased
me every day, and then kill myself while leaving a suicide “explanation” note.
I was stunned that I had explicitly written something like this six years
before Columbine occurred. Yet I believe I certainly wasn’t the only “angry and
frustrated outcast” who has had such a revenge fantasy against bullies. In
fact, what "outcast" hasn't had such feelings in high school? I
believe expressing it actually helped
me by releasing my bent up, hurt, despairing feelings. Such feelings and
fantasies should be revealed and exposed as art so that other people can
realize they’re not alone in having such “natural” feelings. Otherwise, if you
bottle up all those repressed feelings and emotions, they come out as actual
physical violence that is so senseless, so harmful, and so very wrong. I knew
that back then and I know it now. But I won't deny I had those feelings. I was
provoked by daily taunting and teasing. It was merciless. It was unforgiving.
It was scarring. And what these people did to me was deeply wrong.
A Hometown Without Ambition Beyond Babymakin'
1-10-02:
In my hometown, many of the housewives were babysitters during the day while their
husbands were off at work. If they had children, they were simply housewives.
It is an unambitious community - an almost perfect community to raise children
in middle-class households. Yet, where is their ambition to do something more? Is raising kids the summit of
their lives? Is that all?
On break from graduate school, I found myself in blissful Yellow
Springs, Ohio, my idealized small town full of alternative art teens and
college students, a new age book store and art house movie theater, a comic
book store and coffee house, even a traditional "Dairyland" ice cream
joint and small town park. Lorna and I went to a main street tavern where we
ordered some beers and spaghetti. I was in my
After the jubilation of being in Yellow Springs with so many artists in
a small town, I was wrecked with isolation by being with my dad and sisters for
the next two days. When I'm around them, I end up seeming "eccentric"
and, worse, "nutty". I'll make a surreal, warped joke and none of
them makes a sound. If I made the same joke to Justin or Eddie, he'd laugh
hysterically. I feel miscast at my own family table. The conflict of
personality only tired me to the point of depression.
For me while growing up, the movies were such a
magical experience for transporting me to places I’d never seen, experienced,
or been to. I grew up in a small town in Midwest
The Boredom of Small
Town Life Made Me
3-20-03:
The reason I became eccentric was because I grew
up in a small town where nothing much
happened. I couldn’t stand the boredom, so I developed a hyperactive
imagination. And by living in that fantasy world, it made me unusual.
Eccentricity simply made my life more interesting from my perspective. Even if
it did make me look like an outcast, my life has been filled with near non-stop
creative excitement. In answer to making my life meaningful, I took the
route less traveled.
Choosing Art Over
Athletics
12-30-02: While in high school, I suddenly became
very aware that becoming a great athlete wasn’t going to be something that will
carry through after high school or college. I mean, what do you do with your
life after that? So I gave up on sports after my freshman year in high school
and started concentrating on art, the imagination, movies, music, and other
creative activities. At least these things carry through for the rest of my life. You can be an artist when you're
75 years old. Meanwhile, you reach your athletic peak when you're 19.
High School Glory Days?
5-25-02: I
remember during one of the final weeks of my senior year of high school that a
classmate of mine, Steve Castillo, (who used to tease and pick on me in front
of our peers) exclaim aloud in a boasting manner in a class that “These are the
best days of our lives. Right now while we’re seniors.” I felt that was the
most sentimental high school bullshit absurdity I’ve ever heard. Maybe for a
lower-class bully asshole like him, it was very well the best of times. He
didn’t have anything to look forward to. These were his glory years. His years
to stand tall and mighty on fragile, finite ground. As for me, I desperately
yearned to move on, get out of high school and my hometown. Once we all
graduated, I felt a massive sense of release. I knew that for most of my classmates,
their greatness was over – and mine was just beginning. I was free of them and
their sports superiority. Being a jock in high school meant nothing once you
graduated and entered college and the real world. I knew that years ago and
started working towards my ambitions of art, movies, and self-expression. I
decided not to pursue track, football, or any other sport – even though I knew it was the only way to
gain popularity and a girlfriend in the small town I was living in. I got
jobs as an assistant in a carpet cleaning service and as a school custodian to
gain money for college. (It was also an excuse to not rejoin up with the track
team.) I watched my peers achieve and revel in their glory days. Prophetically,
I knew I’d revel in the years to come, patiently waiting and working hard to
achieve my own personal glory through art, teaching, and creativity. The
success repression I experienced during high school helped drive me to work the
obsessively long hours I have throughout the years since I graduated high
school. I had a lot to prove and make up for what I wasn’t able to achieve
during the glory years of high school.
The epilogue and moral of this fable is what do those
jokes, er, I mean jocks have now?
Memories and alcoholism. Personally, I don’t think my glory days are behind me,
right now, or tomorrow. The key is to always keep your ambitions wide open so
that one’s life and inner self keep improving.
Finding My Confidence
and Freedom in College
4-16-03: When I
was a senior in high school, I found my first true sensations of freedom when I
was taking college courses at a local college. It was my first opportunity to
be released from high school and Coldwater. College allowed me a chance to live
beyond the restrictions and dead ends of my hometown. I met new people and
wasn't around the same old group of classmates. I still missed the ones I left
behind. Though I relished the opportunity to be more and expand my horizons. I
think I found my inner confidence by going to Wright State Lake Campus that
senior year of high school. Not only did I get a year's worth of college
education taken care of for almost free by being in the post-secondary program,
I had one less year of having to be in dreadful high school. I had found my
escape.
Gaining My Confidence Up
6-30-02: After finishing the ’93 journals last night, I’ve
started typing out my senior year journal and it’s amazing how different I
became. I was so much more relaxed
and confident. I realized I had a college future while some of my annoying
classmates who used to tease me didn’t. I was even flirting with girls,
which was something I was terrified of doing back in ’93!! During my junior
year, I kept repetitiously writing how depressed I was every day. During my
senior year, I was free and taking college class at
Wanting Girls' Affections in High School
7-1-02: Another realization from typing out my late ’94
journals is how much bitterness and loneliness I felt from being rejected so
many times by the girls I asked out. It was like I’ve been seeking out revenge
ever since then by dedicating myself obsessively to my artwork and writing so
that they will see me as a "great artist" one day and regret that
they didn’t take the leap and go out with me. They’re in their puny lives as
housewives now and without much excitement to their lives. Here I am with my
universe of imagination, creativity, and expressions. One day I wanted them to
feel sorry that they weren’t daring enough or friendlier to me. I want their
respect… and love! But at some point, it really doesn't matter, does it? We
were all so immature and uncertain back then. None of us knew what we wanted. I
suppose I just wish I had more fun back in those teenage years. I could have
used a hand to hold in the very least, let alone a cheek to kiss. (Hey, this
was a time of innocence, darn it!)
Breaking Out from High School
6-16-03:
Yet the odd thing about high school was that my classmates and I were all in
the same boat. We still hadn’t moved off into other courses of life. We were
all kinda stuck in the same classes with practically the same abilities. We
were all stuck in the same small town.
Yet
once we all graduated together, the ties were broken! We were set free to whatever destiny we aspired to achieve.
It’s was the moment where the popular kids stopped being popular anymore. It
was the beginning of when the geeks rose out from the shadows of their bullies
and into their brighter futures and stellar careers. The popular kids can
simply keep telling stories about their glory years in school, of a time long
past.
My Esteemed Peers, the Cheaters
11-22-98:
I remember being in school and my classmates (rich, poor, smart, and stupid)
got copies of tests that were coming up later that day. They impressed their
parents when they got a “CONGRATULATIONS! YOU ARE THE PARENT OF AN HONOR ROLL
STUDENT!” bumper sticker in the mail.
“You did so well!”? Well, ultimately, they flunked a different kind of test that you don’t get in school, but
rather through life: gaining a sense of integrity.
I took those left-brain tests throughout high school even though they took
hours each day to study for and they
had no importance in my right-brained life when my main interests were in art
and creativity. I built up a great deal of anger only to release it through
self-expressive, introspective art.
Grading Average Motivation
11-9-98:
For most of my school life as a student, I’ve gotten a B+ average. Now if I had
gotten an “A+”, I would have believed that I hadn’t been pushed far enough. Yet
still, I feel a resentment and discomfort for sincerely trying my best and
still getting those B+ grades. It is terrifying to a certain extent. I’m not as
good as those “A’s”. Yet by not getting as good of a grade as I wished, it
provoked me to work even harder than
before. I never stopped learning and challenging myself. If I had gained too
many accolades and honors too early on in my life, would I have gained the
ambitions that I have now to “get ahead”?
Evening the Odds
5-4-99: I was one of
those people who was beaten so many times in sports, school, home that I want
to desperately even things out. They teased me to the brink of insanity and I
want to heal myself by working harder and accomplishing more than them. So I
chose art – something they could never do. You have to be a specialist in this
field to get ahead.
My Big, Naïve Fantasy of Returning to My Hometown the
Conquering Artist Hero
11-18-00:
I’d like to go back to my hometown as a famous artist and lead the
Fast Times in Life After High School
The reason life goes so fast after high school was
that I got so much busier. I worked on projects that I actually felt motivated
on doing even though they took up every weekday and weekend morning, afternoon,
evening, and night. More responsibilities took up more of my time. When I was
in high school, all I did was wait for graduation and to leave my small “dead
end for artists” hometown. I wanted so badly to get out that I didn’t mind the
overwhelming ordeal I would experience in the city with so many more problems.
There wasn’t much for me to do or accomplish in high school. Now, all I do is
work and the days just pass.
My
Time-Based Artistic Development
"I hadn't even considered time as a landscape to
paint upon." -From Avengers/
Invaders #12.
1-5-01: Unlike some of my peers and former
classmates, I worked obsessively to get ahead in my art and in work. My family
wasn’t as rich or as socially connected as some people’s families. For my art
portfolio, I had to go to a community college in
I
have to keep working to “make it”, though I don’t know exactly what for. Am I
at some psychological loss from years of unpopularity, romantic rejection,
general boredom, or creative bliss?
My
Hidden
The more I think about, the more I
realize how screwed I was when I got to art school in August 1995. I didn't
have much artistic technical experience, unlike most of my classmates. I knew
I'd have to work extremely hard just to make it through that first foundation
year. Yet I did have one major, major asset that the others may not have
had: I was possessed with the desire and passion to succeed to prove myself to
those who teased me and publicly humiliated me while growing up at school. The
rage and the obsession was just that intense. I was going to make something of
myself and I knew that hunger was what would make me succeed eventually. I
mean, you really have to question how someone could graduate with top honors in
Media Studies without video, animation, or computer experience. I simply worked
my ass off. Every morning, afternoon, evening, and night. Every weekend even.
The fact that I didn't have much of a social life obviously helped as well. But
I made it through art school because I was desperately trying to prove myself.
I had to succeed in something in order to find a reason to continue living. I
couldn't be a failure. And I was willing to burn my life force out in order to
make the grade and the art. It was an extremely intense period in my life. My
life was all about making art. Constantly.
My CCAD Freshman Year
6-15-01: My undergraduate freshman art school year was basically boot camp for aspiring artists. Half of my peers dropped o