Manship Makes Rats

29 May

Today I’ll post a piece done here on the warehouse walls by the lovely and solar Maren Preston. She’s an artist and student over at UC Santa Cruz. We met for the first time at a party where she tattooed my head, the good ol’ stick-and-poke way. I tend to concede much to interesting strangers.

She works with a variety of mediums on canvases, wood, found items, and from what I understand anything she can get her hands on. I hear she’s fiddling with sculpture lately. I can’t say too much about her art because I’ve only seen it through pictures. I know her art was recently featured at the Leeds Gallery on Locust Street in Santa Cruz. I regret missing it. I’ll post a link to some of her stuff when I get one.

This is a piece she painted on the warehouse walls a few weeks ago with some old house paint, India Ink, and a toothbrush. It was a spontaneous decision to paint, as was the choice of subject. The expression on the face and the features of the ship are grieving and crying. They feel like the mediums look — dripping down the wall undisturbed. Misery plagues the Maship’s eye. But the rats crawl happily out from the piece, polluting the air like smoke pluming out of an industrious smokestack or locomotive. The rats give purpose to the struggle of the manship and its idol sailor.


Don’t mind the piece on canvas above it.


Urban Ore

29 May

I know Urban Ore is the name of one of those overpriced “salvage” thrift lots in the East Bay. So they had a clever name idea. It made me come to think of the garbage humanity has furnished this world with, lot’s of it, lying around, forgotten. It’s kind of a guilty pleasure of mine, to admire industrial-grade loads of junk. To think of the trouble that someone, somewhere went through to make this stuff. I’ll post a link to a series of photographs I took rummaging around through Oakland as well as images of a poster I made with one of those photos.

This first one is an image of a totaled WV Cabriolet I stumbled upon in West Oakland. Modified on Photoshop, printed on several eight-and-a-half by elevens, glued onto the wall using regular PVA glue, then painted over with PVA mixed with a powdered red tint.

Here’s the original picture. Taken with a 35mm Pentax SL.

Here’s the poster laid out.

Here’s one of the process.

Here’s one of the final thing done. I didn’t take a picture of it at the time and much has changed since then so there’s a bit of graffiti overlapping onto it from below.

Click here or the photo-link below if you want to see more photos of junk. Black and white. Mostly from West Oakland.

To The Cuban

24 May

I’ve got to give props to The Cuban.

He was the first person I confessed the blog idea to, well, as well as I can remember he’s the first. He approved. For those who don’t know him, he’s a seemingly shy one, reserved, but always very well spoken. He’s at his best when he’s subtly offensive and admiringly vulgar. When he wants to be heard he wants you to listen. And if you’re offended, you’re listening.

So this second post is dedicated to Max. Here’s one of his pieces. I read it as the depiction of a conflict with the temperamental nature of human sexual desire. A desire not unlike the rain — fogging, sporadic and temporal. You try to question it and the you end up wanting to ask fewer questions, ultimately to embrace the unpredictable, unexplainable and unquestionable. Max is probably gonna sing me a new one when he reads my butchering criticism.


When it’s about nothing

Not that you’d say,
it’s too soon
for a night of lovemaking
but as there’s rain
yes it is

I can be called in from the rain
feel like going out
(feel like elision hadn’t taken place)
and wish I had not left the rain
for imagine, I was lovemaking

I can be thinking of the whereabouts
of the (greatly considered) lovemaker
I can be smoking, huddled in the rain
and before I know it I am given to lovemaking in the rain.
You think as one is like another,

Halfway through lovemaking the rain stops.
Do you call that lovemaking in the rain?
(see how far the obfuscating takes me)

The liking for lovemaking is my thing.
I’m likely to feel as ready for lovemaking tomorrow
unless there’s rain, on and off.
He says himself, Looks like that
can only come from the lovemaker’s heart,
can only come from the rain.

-Max Pujals

Also we gotta catch up on posting pictures. We don’t have as many as we’d like from the initial weeks. But here’s one from me and Bader’s first night. That blackness in the far left is the large door open.

Taken on a 35mm Pentax SL. I obviously don’t have a light meter.

Here’s another from that night. This time turn right about 80 degrees. If you can make out the tarp hanging from the ceiling on the right, that’s the landlord’s idea of a waterproofing solution. We had to wait for the restraining order on the neighbor to go in effect before the landlord could repair that far end of the roof.

35mm Pentax SL

Hardwood Studios

24 May

Why Hardwood Studios? We’ll tell you later.

For now I’ll start the blog. Sitting here wasting, looking at my surroundings, having just given myself the latest self-inflicted stick-and-poke (the best and most precise to date may I add), I can’t help but posting something and putting it somewhere to share. I know it won’t last long, the blog or the warehouse. But I’ll give it a shot. It’ll make me take more pictures. Maybe make me practice my writing. All the while with a theme and very with very little focus.


This is a picture from about two months ago. From when we first “moved in.” Taken from an iPhone camera, standing outside the big door looking in. This is after we cleared the debris from the inside.

iPhone Camera

As a late start bonus, this one’s from tonight. I don’t believe in anarchy, I don’t have such faith in humanity, but the rat does.