Matt K.
I just got an email from my cousin Jason S. It was really unexpected and really cool. I also wanted to share this comic panel with you. Apparently it is from Marvel Comics "Avengers" issue #253 and it is real. I can't believe they ever got away with this kind of stuff, even though this is obviously taken completely out of context. But it also made me laugh, a lot, because it is so sickeningly crass. Enjoy.
Matt K.
Quite a few changes and additions to the site.
--I made significant changes to the layout of the art and photos pages to make navigation simpler and more intuitive. Basically, I condensed a lot of the thumbnail links so that the groupings were more obvious, and I split the photo thumbnails into themed and titled galleries like "places" and "things" and "bodies." This way, you are not swamped by a wordless white screen crowded with tiny thumbnails and can hopefully find your way around in a manner that is understandable and rewarding.
--I added 10 new Holga camera photos, all taken this past August in Las Vegas, to the Holga gallery titled "Las Vegas 2006."
--I added 33 new pinhole camera photos. There are 2 of an evening with Fred and Caroline in the pinhole photos gallery titled "people," 4 of a summer afternoon at the Cox Arboretum in the pinhole photos gallery titled "another green world," and 27 of Las Vegas in the pinhole photos galleries titled "people," "things," "places" and "night lights."
--I added a long overdue mix CD called "And Then, Out Into Space" to the music 2006 page. It's a really really wonderful comp CD made just for me by my now sadly distant friend Inky Black. Tracks by Royksopp, Yo La Tengo, Squarepusher, David Bowie and more. Check out the sweet cover and the tracklisting, you should dig it.
That's all for now. Take a look at it all and then let me know what you think.
Matt K.
I want to take some time to wish the awesome Tom Williams a very happy birthday! He is 32 damn years old! OOOOLLLLDDD!!!! Ah, who am I kidding. He'll always be younger than me, so I shouldn't be calling anyone old. Anyway, to celebrate Tom's day of days, and since I couldn't join him in Columbus tonight to celebrate, here are a few of my favorite photographs of the man himself, complete with dumb ass captions. This is getting to be a birthday tradition here at Spudd64.com. If only I could remember all my friends' birthdays. Enjoy your image splashed all over the internet Tom! First, here he is lounging with a lovely lady friend. Sometimes it's hard to talk to him because you have to fight your way through the sea of admiring females screaming for sketches of Satanic Paperboy on their breasts.
Doing an uncanny Rodney Dangerfield imitation. No respect...
I believe this is after the first time he saw me shirtcocking in Tony Goins' apartment.
Issuing orders to his gathered cronies. Look at the sneer.
Seriously, from Rudy and I, happy birthday Tom, you are a hell of an artist, a great friend, and an all around awesome human being!
Matt K.
Recently, I received an email from a very dear friend. In this e-mail, she told me that she thought I had "true integrity." That really threw me. I think that I tend to internalize a lot of things, and the daily struggle to be a better person is definitely one of them. I really value humility and absolutely deplore arrogance. Reading those words from someone whose feelings and opinions I trust and value was really mindboggling. It was most definitely an enormous compliment, and while I have always been somewhat uncomfortable with personal praise, it meant a great deal. In some ways, it was a shock. I think that perhaps her noticing and remarking on what she perceived as my integrity in some ways ripped the roof off of that struggle. It turned what is usually a very private thing into a somewhat public thing, even if it was something that was simply shared between two good friends. It was simultaneously exhilarating and unsettling.
Obviously, I have been thinking about that email an awful lot since then. I think that things are happening inside me. A lot is changing. My good friend Todd Michael B. once told me an odd little story, but it has always stayed with me. He told me about how, when he thought about the person he had been 3 years ago, or the things that he had done 3 years ago, he always thought "What an ass!" It was no surprise that he made the leap from that to wondering if, 3 years in the future, he would look back on the day he was telling me this story and think "What an ass!" Maybe there is some truth in that, for some people at least. I don't know if I've ever really looked back at any particular time in my life and thought that I was an ass. But I have always been able to see the path of my life, and my identity, as something that is simultaneously linear and a mosaic. I don't have very many regrets at all because even the things I did which were awful, cruel, self-serving, foolish, arrogant, and so on inevitably taught me something and gave my life the shape it has right now. Conversely, I realize that the choices I am making now, and what I do with my time and energy and intellect and money is shaping what my life will be in the future. So I probably won't look back at this time and think "What an ass!" but I know that I am not done, and may never be. My life has really truly been one long constant cycle of change, complete with lots of missteps and successes. Whatever I do now, and whoever I am, will certainly change.
This web site has, in some ways become an extension of my identity, for good or ill. And this web site is inextricably bound up with my art, my comics, and to a lesser degree my photography and maybe my taste in music. People I have never met email and they mistakenly assume they know me. No one has ever been rude at all, and honestly the correspondences have always been very pleasant and enjoyable. But it is strange to read a message from someone you have never met and learn what they think of you and your artwork. I am starting to think I might be a great deal more private, both personally and artistically, than I had previously supposed when I jumped harum-scarum into putting myself on the internet.
So, back to this integrity thing. It got me thinking a lot about whether I really do have any integrity, and how this applies to the very public piece of myself that this web site, and the art associated with it, represents. And the public thing has been thrilling and deadly. Whether it's simply charmingly droll or the height of stupidity, I tend to get a bit superstitious at times. If I am doing something, thinking something, and something else happens that seems to be signifying some deeper meaning, I will occasionally give it credence. Of course, deep down inside I realize the inherent impossibility of superstitious beliefs, but I have come to see those occurrences as mental shocks that spur me into thinking about some personal issue in a different way. Something like that just happened, right around the time I read the email about integrity. I almost never listen to Bob Dylan at all. I am not really a fan. But I was listening to the song "Maggie's Farm" and for the very first time, I really noticed a particular passage in the lyrics. They go like this: "Well, I try my best / To be just like I am / But everybody wants you / To be just like them." And yes, they really stuck. And made me think in a different way about some things that have lain dormant for some time but that have been troubling me on an almost subconscious level. If you look closely at the dates, you will see that I haven't done any elaborately detailed drawings like the "Archons" series on the art page in over 4 years, and there has not been much color work at all since then. Almost my entire output has been photography, comics, and black and white pen and ink drawings. But the thing is, those "Archon" drawings are always the first, and sometimes only, thing people notice about my art. And the praise is appreciated, it really is, but it can become such a trap. I sometimes get the feeling that people like them so much that I have to keep drawing like that. Only I can't. I don't want to. And obviously, I haven't.
So I took a pause for quite some time. Did some comics. Some people seemed to really like "Spudd 64" and always commented on the details and the weird little creatures. And the same thing started to happen again. So I wondered to myself, is this what fame is like? No, not like I had any! Not at all. But my drawings, my little comic, had gone from something that only Rudy and occasionally Johnny Ampersand saw to something that anyone at all could buy and appraise, whether it was online or at one of the small press shows where I have exhibited. I don't know how those artists and musicians and cartoonists that actually are well known can handle the pressure of other people's expectations, especially when they want to do something that they know will be seen as counter to whatever they are currently doing and thus commercial suicide.
So another thing happened, just today. I've been listening to a lot of music lately that is totally and utterly different from what I have been listening to for nearly the past 10 years although they are all bands that I am familiar with and listened to a lot in high school and college. For some reason, out of the blue, I started hankering for some tunes by the Minutemen, which led me to look for and listen to them, fIREHOSE, Pere Ubu, Silkworm, and more. Then I started poking around online and found Pere Ubu's site and just began reading little bits and pieces of what they, or more precisely David Thomas, think about music, art, record labels, CDs versus vinyl, and so on. I don't know, he was just so unapologetically honest, articulate, and challenging that it became an instantly compelling read. As an example, here are some of Pere Ubu's rules. These obviously center on the idea of making music, but provide much to think about in terms of art and even life in general. Here, read this...
Don't ever audition.
Don't look for someone.
Don't seek success.
Choose the first person you hear about.
Take the first idea you get.
Put unique people together. Unique people will play uniquely whether or not they know how to play.
Delay Centrifugal Destruct Factors for as long as possible then push the button.
Damn, there is so much there for me to marinate on. These next few weeks are going to bring big changes, and I'm positive that some of you out there might not be happy. I'm apologizing in advance, but in the words of Bob Dylan, I want to be just like I am.
Matt K.
Back again for part 2 of this little walk down memory lane with Rudy, all to celebrate the joyful occasion of her 31st birthday which occurred on Friday, September 1st. On to the rest of the photographs. Here, my friends, is some pinoy pride in front of the Philippine Center in Manhattan.
This is us, walking through the gravel parking lot of either the Columbus Zoo or the Cleveland Zoo. We have just arrived for a day of festive gawking at the amazing flora and fauna from far off lands, and already Rudy is not amused at my picture taking.
Her expression, after a particularly noisome joke from Sean McKeever.
After a night of steady guzzling, she feels the need to partake in a mint to cover the vile fumes of inebriation wafting from her maw. The search initially proved fruitless, prompting the start of a black mood. But there! There, hidden in the unimaginable depths of her handbag...a mint! A shining mint!
While I do love her, she is a violent violent woman. Here is the expression which should signal to any perpetrator that the time to flee with all shirt-tails flying is now upon you for she is readying a blow of such fury that the vault of heaven itself will crumble from the might of her rage. I have seen this look many many times, and I have the shattered bones to prove it.
Here Rudy is harmonizing her lovely voice with the single piercing tone emanating from the television behind her. The effect was quite disconcerting.
She is a woman of many many talents, not the least of which is knitting and crocheting. Here she is proudly displaying her very first knitted bag. I keep bugging her for a sweater with Spudd 64 on it but she says "Not yet." Hmmmm.
This is another repeat, but I never get tired of this one. This is what the computer monitor sees when she is online.
Full of righteous indignation. At what, I couldn't even guess. Maybe some lout was being rude and inappropriate, maybe a baby smelled of cheese, maybe a portly gentleman strolled past with his paunch descending below the modest hemline of his shirt...the list of outrages could go on and on.
This is her usual expression when I am the one behind the wheel. I tell her that I enjoy the mathematics of risk, and that the sun could be snuffed out tomorrow so it is of greatest import to savor the thrills of life in the here and now. She just continues to look like this.
She can sense that there are shoes on sale nearby. It is uncanny.
Mowing the lawn was always such a chore. I came to dread those days, at least until we were able to procure the use of a new lawnmower which could actually turn to both the left and the right. Here is Rudy, surveying the rather pathetic results of one of my early adventures in lawnmowing.
See! There's more of that righteous indignation again!
Again with the pinay pride. Here we are in front of the Philippine Mission to the United Nations, again in Manhattan, but on a different vacation.
Rudy practicing her amazing new-found ability to actually guide the direction of the car by mentally influencing magnetic lines of force from the earth's Van Allen Belt. She is understandably reluctant to publicize this ability of hers, fearing government meddling and ceaseless human experimentation in order to somehow commercially exploit her. Nonetheless, she figures that this site is small enough and of low enough visibility that I can share this photo with you all. She actually moved our car from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania all the way to Columbus, Ohio without once physically touching the wheel or the pedals.
We stumbled across this place in what would seem to pass for the "Little Manila" part of Manhattan. We bought lots and lots of good snacks and stuff here. It was wonderful.
One look is enough to tell you that there are deep mischiefs and dastardly deeds afoot.
The digital camera was about 2 years old at this point, and while Rudy was a sport and played along gamely for most of those 2 years, even her patience came to an end. We buried that digital camera later that afternoon, but I'll always miss it. Such violence done to a tiny little device! It was terrifying.
This is how she felt upon turning 30 years old.
And now we are into more recent times. This was taken at the banquet at the Hyatt on Capitol Square this past July where Rudy won an award for being the Coolest Person in the Midwest. Seriously. We didn't even know such awards existed so we were naturally very surprised when she received the letter.
Here she is in front of what apparently passes for fine art in Las Vegas. It was rather ghastly.
The sickening reality of losing all the rent money at the blackjack tables slowly begins to sink in for Rudy.
Baking in the sweet hundred degree sun of the Las Vegas desert. It was heaven.
Last, pinoys are EVERYWHERE! There in Las Vegas, where we least expected it, we found Kapit Bahay, which means "my neighbor" in Tagalog. Of course we went right in and checked it out. It was a turo-turo, or point-point, place which means that the food is all displayed buffet style behind a counter and you simply point at what you would like rather than try to choose from a menu full of items that you might not be familiar with and may not be able to pronounce. The food was absolutely delicious, the service was friendly and welcoming and, as usual, they tried to greet Rudy in Tagalog but quickly changed to English when she was unable to reply.
Okay, later today I'll have a little round-up of the birthday loot Rudy snagged and maybe a picture or two of that. She got lots of stuff, as she well deserves, and it was pretty cool swag.
Matt K.
Yesterday, September 1, was Rudy's birthday! 31 years old! Awesome! We met when she was 21, so now we have been together for around a third of her life, and over a quarter of mine. That is always amazing to think about. I simply cannot imagine what my life would be like without her in it. Alright, enough sentimentality. Here, to celebrate her day of days, is a little photo album of Rudy through the years, complete with asinine commentary by myself. Let's begin, shall we? First, an absolutely delightful photo of Rudy as a very young girl. I believe this photograph was taken by her father, back when they lived in New York. Isn't she adorable?
Next, so serious! Such a devout little Catholic girl! Here she is, waiting to receive the mysteries of the Holy Sacrament of the First Communion. Even back then she was a fashionista. Look at those shoes! That purse! She can't not dress well!
Okay, I suppose I have to retract that fashionista comment. Paw prints? When was this cool?
Back in effect! Even in a Catholic school uniform, she was still rockin' this hairdo years before Karen O and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I never knew her in high school, but when I look at these pictures I know who I would have had a crush on and asked to the prom. She hates this picture, but I love it.
Some kind of Christmas dance or something. I am informed she was very very ill when this photo was taken, hence the pale and wan complexion. Nonetheless, she still looks very fetching in this revealing red velvet dress. I am still seized with jealousy when I think about the idiot she probably went to this dance with. He had no idea how lucky he was, I am sure.
This photo is from almost just before we met. The twenty year old college girl with her round owly glasses and her thrift store sweater working in a shoe store. Can you guess which one? The signs are probably a dead giveaway.
I used to do this funny little dance where I would alternately point with my index fingers, grin maniacally, and gasp like a mackerel thrashing on a sandbar. Rudy would always stare at me and ask me what the hell I was doing. Finally one day she decided to just do it herself to see what all the fuss was about, and I was able to snap this priceless photograph. She has never done it since so what you are seeing is the power of photography to trap a single, shining, beautiful moment in time, like a fly in amber, for the viewer to marvel at through the ages. Burma shave.
I think there might be some vinyl in these pants. Seriously. A dark moment in fashion history for Rudy.
A photograph from when we were married in Las Vegas on August 18th, 2001. Rudy wore a traditional dress imported from the Philippines and went to the salon in Caesar's Palace for her hair and make-up. She liked the make-up, but in the end no one really liked the hair, including her. It was a little big and, well, Vegas. Somehow, though, she still managed to look radiantly beautiful.
Alright, I've been nice and sweet and cloying for too long. It's time for the awesome pictures. This one has been seen on this site before, but I never get tired of it. This is Rudy and her father, wrapping up a contract killing. Steely eyed killers with icewater in their veins. You don't want to mess with these pinoys.
Apparently deeply involved in telling some fascinating story.
A pigeon's eye view of Rudy when we went to Chicago.
She has such a marvellously expressive mouth, especially obvious when I photograph her speaking in mid-sentence. She seems to dislike this type of image, but I can't understand why.
"I am Rudy. Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair."
Words would only lessen the impact. Simply gaze, my friends, at the wonder.
Caught in the matrix in New York City's Grand Central Station. I had to pin her down and slap her several times before she remembered which reality she belonged to and finally coalesced into solidity. It was emotional.
Cool as a cucumber in the Bleecker Street subway station.
I see this a lot. I mean A LOT. Sometimes Rudy sleeps so much that I think she won't need to sleep at all for the last 20 or 30 years of her life.
Okay, that's about half of the pictures. I'll be back tomorrow with the rest of the album, birthday gifts from me and from Stephanie and Kevin and from Sean McKeever, and more. Until tomorrow...
Matt K.