You are currently browsing the archives for the “!Share” category.

Survial skills for employment.

March 20, 2012 // Posted in !Share (Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ) |  No Comments

**Idea from a conversation with a co-worker this morning**
Our current employment climate is wrought with profit layoffs. And the trickle down of economics is an evaporated excuse of failure. Desperation is the hope of many. Corporations screening tactics are more cut throat than ever. Some job listing boldly states you must be currently employed in order to apply. ??? Questions be damned, secure that job! It’s a well known unspoken rule that employers prefer a candidate already employed, so is this some sort of trick… or test? The only solution to single yourself out from the competition is an unheard practice. Imagine how your cover letter and resume will sparkle under your current job’s letterhead. And if you want that color font to pop, liberally use your company’s color printer. It’s there and it’s work-related. Use your company’s e-mail, if requested to send by e-mail. The same applies to faxes and use the company’s postage meter for mail deliver. You’re already using their letterhead and have the added bonus of a matching enevlope. You’ll certainly standout. I should know. I’ve been looking for a new job for almost 10 years! It’s rough out there.

Locked and loaded.

MUNI:” We’re on time in making you late.”

March 9, 2012 // Posted in !Share, Art (Tags: , , , ) |  No Comments

Muni:" We're on time in making you late."

Well, what can be said that hasn’t already been exhausted on the topic of MUNI. A lot, if it’s your main source of transportation. This morning was an exception to the rule. With a casual jester, my Manipura chariot awaited across the street. I hopped and strapped myself in thinking,”Oh, the blockages I will be sear thorough today.” The driver was impressed with my route selection. I prefer Post Street. Bush feels too much like traffic and Post feels more like a stroll. For those needing the thrill of bumper to bumper, there’s the infamous one block of gridlock before Union Square. This day I took delighted pleasure in it’s static movement. My driver and I witness the unheard of…a biker had to stop and wait. Numerous times! Actually, it drew some laughter and spirited comments. That merriment withered away as the driver flowered in to the Dali Lama from South Side. He was letting everybody and their mama turn, or switch lanes, in front of him. “Well, I’ll be (#*$@”, to myself. I got a doormat of a driver. Luckily, the radio caught my attention when they mention Whitney Houston’s will and what she left to her daughter. And more importantly, who didn’t get anything. Bobby Badboy Brown got nothing. Then I learned she had her will drawn up in 2000 and divorced Bobby in 2007. Go head, Whitney! She knew what was up. Bobby’s book should be titled: “Didn’t He Almost have it All.” or include this jewel of a song in his set: ‘I have Nothing”! HA. “Don’t repo my vespa today…I got a gig at Subyway.” Exiting the cab, I couldn’t get the image out of my head of a picture of Bobby singing I have nothing. I rushed up to my office and made use of the software available. It was the laugh of the morning.

To Poke or Not to Poke….

April 25, 2011 // Posted in !Share, Art (Tags: , , ) |  No Comments

Desperate times calls for desperate measures, especially when you’re in a two hour meeting and the bobble head effect is upon you. I was unprepared for the vapid verbiage that assaulted my un-caffeinated body. My only saving grace was the coveted back area I stealthy secured upon my arrival, while the novices bickered over breakfast. My sanctuary lasted for a hot New York minute as I labored to appear focused and mildly interested. I tried pinching, adjusting my seat, playing with my hair. I almost axed my ban on cofffee, but instead give my tongue a defiant bite. Ten minutues deep into the meeting I was already haggard and had exhausted all options. I was sinking to rise no more. My eye lids weighted of anchors lost long ago. I started swaying in the ether between dreams and reality. A ray of light in the form of a poke brought me back to the grips of reality. I thanked my giggling savior and commenced to doodling. I drew circles, boxes and scribbled catch phrases, but my mind fancied on my poke. I couldn’t remember the last time I was poked. If I hadn’t drained my battery with Angry Bird, I’d check up on my stories on facebook. Then it hit me… does anyone poke on facebook? Who knows? The poke button is the one function that not publicly broadcast in the News Feeds or Walls, I could be wrong but I’ve never seen it appear in feeds from the self-absorbed pride of mega stars and icons I associated with. A persona boundary issue, maybe? See me, but don’t TOUCH me appears to be the silent mantra heard over clicking mouses and keyboards. A poke is deemed a breach through the gated compound and the “little people” are free to roam about and touch things. There are groupies at the front door and stalker at the back, sifting through our refuse; however, the paparazzi is held in high regards and a readily supplies of batteries are kept near their designated entryways. Or, a poke is deemed an unwanted illicit act. One woman learned the hard way. Survey says….

Do you poke?
Yes (If so, have you done any below…)
No. (good to bed, but some may still apply below)
Returned a poke
Ignored a poke
Hit poke button by mistake
Blocked someone for excessive poking
Flamed a person’s wall about their errant poking
Poke strangers you don’t know from someone else account
Poke the wrong person
Wished that special someone would poke you
Wished anyone would poke you
Received pokes from different people
Witchiepoo giggle while you poke
Drunk, etc poke
Hoover over the poke button contemplating
Host poke
Travel poke
Have or wished for a touch me in the morning and then just walk away poke
Uh, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here poke
What’s your name again poke
Uh, your cab is here poke
Uh, excuse me that’s my man/woman, baby’s daddie/mama, pot pie poke
Dude, where’s my car poke
Excuse me poke
Poke the poke out of me poke.
Danm you poke

Omelet Face

April 13, 2011 // Posted in !Share, !Vent. (Tags: , , ) |  No Comments

Seems I’ve been the butt of a Mercury retrograde joke. I use to think lightly of this occurrence, but this time around the winged trickster has tilted me like a pinball machine. Basically, during a Mercury retrograde, lines of communications, travel, appointments get screwy among other things. Last night, while extracting an image to make into a layer for another image, I realized I’ve been severely challenged in the communication arena these pass couple of weeks. There’s the “I love you and you’re so good to me” email I sent by mistake to the head partner in our group. That was a thank you note intended for his secretary. Then there’s I’m new to the cell phone routine, like saving a name to the wrong number and texting the wrong person, or like having your phone randomly calling people, while you’re having a conversation. I’ve been wondering these pass weeks under a hex of mixed signals and reckless disclosure and could certainly use the undo or redo button of life right about now. My usual problem is losing my cell phone not operating them. Also learned all this year’s Mercury retrogrades are happening in the fire signs and I’m now off to entertain myself on what crap I find about that.

Denial isn’t just about a river….

March 25, 2011 // Posted in !Share (Tags: , , ) |  No Comments

My name is Wayne and I’m a computerholic. It all started 1999 with the arrival of my first Dell Desktop. I consulted with our IT department on what to get. A bottomless pit 20 gigs hard drive, 256 MB of blistering ram, a 56k modem of unheard of speed, “Unheard of.” A DVD reader and CD burner, a vivid 17 inch svelte LCD monitor, stereo speakers and a subwoofer that still rocks. It was the throne to my empire. The internet was still in its infancy and I was limited to using it only at work. I remember the fax machine joke craze, the Outlook email frenzies, but the computer and internet blow the lid off the camcorder. Windows 98 was ushering us to the cutting edge and I wanted to tap that pulse. My curiosity was satiated with the endless amount of information I could acquired from the click of a mouse. Soon I grew tired clicking away and wanted to be more proactive. A website was in order and the seduction began. I’d championed my domain name; secured a hosting company and cracked the obstacle of co, co-ding. New software introduced new ways of thinking. I started bridging my art into the computer. Endless possibilities landscape my environment and the word no meant nothing. I’ll do this, finds this and exploit that, Gradual my art waned to a block. Graphic art was a quick fix but it was more reactionary than problem solving. I couldn’t see the elephant in the room for all the software, things and stuff I simply had to get and know.
In 2003, I got my second Dell, More power, space, speed and 19inch flat panel screen. I learned many lessons on that machine. I was very confident in my computer skills and was willing to take more risks. I was on XP Professional and discovered an effective tool it offered: encryption. A blessing when used properly. Foolishly, I disable my virus protection for a file to download faster and got my first virus! Reinstalling was fine until I couldn’t find the floppy disk with my encryption key to restore files from my external drive…hmm? My first defeat was at hand and a costly one. I soon realized the significant of that key. Though the external drive had a copy of my key, it and all my other files were encrypted. I could see the file, but was denied access. I spiral deeper into the computer. I couldn’t stop. Creatively, I was in my darkest hour. I scored my first SF art show in 2004, was accepted into City Art Gallery and appeared on HGTV but I was miserable. It was painful fielding questions about what I was creating. I viewed those opportunities as a way to kick-start my creative juices but I lacked the emotional maturity of what being an artist meant and buried my head in the computer. Creatively, I was dead. The pachyderm was fully visible now and I had no solution. I pondered on an Apple, but it was still a computer.
Dell’s scavenger hunt of 2007 derailed my efforts. I won a red notebook that I fell in love with. With my new laptop, I entered my 10th year of being in the computer age and viewed this as a new start. Writing has always been the start off point for my creative juices. I needed a solution for my addition and creative block and the blog was the answer. I revamped my website into a blog. Soon there after I was in a start and stop complex with various art projects until I was derailed by malware in July 2010. After recovering, I did nothing! There were a few uninspiring blog posts, but nothing like 2009. I forced myself into a time out. I watched all my DVDs and listened to all my CDs. I ushered in 2011 hungry to create in electronic mediums, but I’m weary of the beast within and what it nearly robbed me of. For months I labored over this post at work and it been six months since my last post! I’m ready to express.

Bubble Pop!

August 6, 2010 // Posted in !Share, !Vent., Art, Uncategorized (Tags: , , , , ) |  No Comments

As I vigorously attacked the bridge in my mix voice, I chewed on Judge Walker’s decision on Prop 8. So, it was ruled unconstitutional; however the stay was maintained and it could be upheld in U.S.S.C. All that merriment and ruckus that ensued later was a bit premature. While my instructor had me doing lip trebles, I contemplated the real meat and potatoes of any union: living trusts, power of attorney, wills, insurance policies, liability waivers and DNR forms.

The nostalgic prenup is only binding when it’s drafted on the dried bar napkin that still has your intended spouses phone number and ….name?

“This way.” “Over here!”

July 21, 2010 // Posted in !Share (Tags: , , , ) |  No Comments

A fleeting nanosecond of notoriety happen while waiting for a friend for lunch. Our meet up was the bustling tourist mill of Powell Street. A visual petri dish of every slice of life the foggy 7 X 7 has to offer. The only missing specimens were the clipboards,canvassers, religious broken records and Frank. I stationed myself near a pole out of the way the wandering herds and drifted off into a music daydream. I didn’t pay any attention this group of women until I notice they were taking picture and cautious moving near me. I thought they wanted a picture of the pole and were scared to ask me to me. “Let me move.” “NO!” They inched closer, cameras were exchanged, while they talked amongst themselves. Then lots of bows and the shoot was done. I should have mention I wasn’t Stevie Wonder or Nicholas Ashford, not that they had asked me, but they must have confused me with someone else. It’s usually distant stares and complete silence as we pass each other. The only thing I can attribute the change to was the outfit of the day. A last minute iron saver. At least they have a good eye.

Things that makes you go oops…!

March 4, 2010 // Posted in !Share, !Vent. (Tags: ) |  No Comments

Perfection is the goal, but life is the result. I painstaking labored on a project and seconds up to it being executed my computer said, “NO!” No, no. No. I’m going to slow up, freeze and send as is, Wayne. You’ve wasted too much time mashing buttons on it already. You need to be outdoors enjoying this good sun we’re having. If you don’t stop, I’m gonna blue screen ya.

Art night will be intense tonight.

Mr. Butterfingers performed a bull in a china shop showstopper in Williams Sonoma.


2009 Year-end blurbs.

December 23, 2009 // Posted in !Share (Tags: , , , , , , , , ) |  No Comments

Didn’t think I’d still be at this let alone have a selection to pull from.

Quick Rewind: While watching, no, listening to Pat Buchanan during one of the debates, my kidneys were elbowing my jaw for space.

Flour Bumps: I envisioned her feverishly body stirring a cauldron of gumbo on her tippy toes on top of a step ladder, wailing an eye of newt mantra. One fatal slip and I’m telling the reporter the last thing I heard was “bring me more cra…?”

Don’t cha know: A towering 5.2 wannabe hip Londoner, stumbling on stilettos, in an all black ensemble complete with a full length duster sweater to mask her thighs of bovine proportions. She was compensating for her height and weight distribution issues. It worked on paper. The first time I saw her I knew I was in for a treat as she hopped on the ottoman to sit down. Imagine the legendary Edith Massey overseeing your television debut.

000011100011000011000: Their real passions are road blocks, detours and speed bumps. You can never reach your potential unless you’re challenged. Who knew Microsoft was so freakin’ deep? Dealing with Microsoft is like being in a partnership in the fishing industry until you realize you’re the first catch.

Teamwork: “No!” I hastily interrupted. “We’re both gonna fail, but I can afford the hit.”

Googolplex: I equate it to creative inspiration. That one brief moment when human aspiration conjuncts with totality; delirious wonderment erodes barriers of duality and enlightenment step forth…YES!

Round midnight: I was the picture perfect urbane MUNI-muter. 70% The Joker. 22% The Fool. 8% unknown. In total denial of my insignificance, but consciously fashion forward.

Wheel of FortuNe: Having to ask this at a taqueria is insulting. If I wanted 7-11, I’d go to Taco Bell.

Bass clef: Laughter surrounded us as we engaged in a spirited banter. I gallantly defended my right to an education and she constructively suggested I should explore effective time management skills and use the library for what its for and not as my social den.

Wheel of FortuNe

August 11, 2009 // Posted in !Create, !Share, !Vent. (Tags: , , ) |  No Comments

I think its time to stop1250am
…And the wheel turns… and the wheel turns. We’re all part of the wheel.

…..This solar return was meet with unbridled creativity. Writing, wire twisting and sound making have dominated the landscape. Maybe be heading back to using home computer for things other than watching movies. The discovery of a “lost” graphic design has resurfaced and renewed my interest in continuing the series. I have the RAW images back!

…..Fumbling through my scribbling I can’t get the egg and chicken conundrum out of my head. Or, what’s the sound of a one-handed clap. I don’t care if it’s the egg or chicken came first so long as they’re hot and well seasoned. Countless failed attempts at trying to get a simple request like “could you please have my scramble eggs seasoned with a little salt and pepper” has harden me. It not like I wanted an amendment to the constitution. Don’t even get me started on finding enchilada in this place world renowned for its grub. And by real, I mean the kind you bake! Having to ask this at a taqueria is insulting. If I wanted 7-11, I’d go to Taco Bell. Okay.. let’s get back on track. Egg over Chicken? I say neither came first. Perhaps, an image was first? For me, working with wire is like working backwards from starting with an image to completion. Suffice it to say, they’re here. Next! A one-handed clap? A one-handed clap against what? Thigh? Knucklehead? Face? Tosh? Let’s think outside the box.

Some treats. Here’s two brief excerpts of one poem I’ve revisited:
Binding me to the test I need
Icy rings feed on me
Covets my life my destiny

Hear those circle counter quantum leaps
Rigid coils blocks the free
Diverts my path and blind to see
Bruises my heart in mockery
One step ….. (Of course there’s more…)

Binding me to the test that I need
Coils bleed tight but I’m still moving free
I dance with life, but I’m denied the lead
A misdeed is tempting me

Friends are cheering
While daggers unsheathe
Unlike the coils
They stay out of my reach
Their lack…..
(Can’t you just sense what’s ahead? There’s four more juicy verses!)

Side note: Having issues with formatting this blog. Things like indenting, centering, etc. Perhaps I mashed on the wrong button. Normally, I would “take it back to formula”, conduct a seance or sacrificial offering but I don’t care.