Zed's a comin'

I fucking love zombies.


Seriously, I love them so much. I might even be considered a bit of an expert on the subject too except I've done no formal studying on the matter. Fact is, I mostly just think the idea of the living dead is an interesting one to me. And the horror it represents is far greater than simply hells gates bursting with the damned (dammed?)
Most of my knowledge on the subject comes from reading one book, and listening to another: "The Zombie Survival Guide" and "World War Z" both by Max Brooks. The First I read in preparation for a film I made in school, "They Walk Among US."



The second I listened to at the behest of my partner in love some many months later and while I'm as big a fan as any of the first of the "three R's, " this one I have to say was made for teleplay, I hope it will make as good a mini series. The different "interviews" are conducted by the author, and the subjects are voiced by the likes of Mark Hammel, Alan Alda, and Henry Rollins. It's well worth the carbon footprint I planted driving around just to hear so many 'just the next chapters.

This, however, does not sum up my authority on the un-dead. Last year I was contacted by the Fargo Forum news paper regarding my knowledge for not one, but two articles in anticipation of the first annual Fargo Zombie Pub Crawl. The first was for a collection of dos and don'ts for surviving the Zombie apocalypse -it is, to be sure, a strange thing to be asked by a professional journalist, "What's the best way to kill a zombie?" The second was a photo instructional on cheep zombie make-up application.


For years I have rented and lent out my abilities as a zombit make-up artist to friends and, well, mostly just to my friends. I've practiced using latex and even played around with home made squibs. In 2007, I helped supply the fist annual Swearing Jack fashion show in St. Paul with a freshly reanimated cast of models for the event entitled "Dead Sexy" (I also did make-up for their 2008 "Robo-Chic" event. (Actually, I did more than just make-up, I also build the M.C., EmCeeTron 5000, more to come...)

What do you want for that CardboarD-2?

From sculpture

One of the harder parts of calling yourself an artist is living up to the calling. Recently I was working on a small sculpture for my brother. The five inch tall cardboard R2-D2 took about 15 and ½ hours, and I made it mostly at work (I work a number of jobs, at most of witch I have free reign over my day so long as the phones get answered by the second ring). In figuring out what I would have charged for it, I have trouble asserting the full 150 dollars. Surely my time is worth at least that. I have a college degree, I get paid ten an hour to answer phones part time and frankly that’s less than I need to live… Still, I have to ask, who would pay that for a thing like this? Or more to the point, what will people think of me for asking that much?!

What am I worth as an artist? How do I convince the public, not to mention myself, that art is a worthy endeavor –that my art is worth that? The long and short is yes. Yes it is. One day, I may be able to ask more even, but that’s not the point. The real point here is that I enjoy making these things, so it’s no waist of time to make them. Should it happen that someone does enjoy them as much as I do, and can’t or won’t spend the time doing it themselves, then why shouldn’t I ask for at least what I make from the Park District?

So, if someone you know is pining for a 5 inch tall Astro-mech, you know where to come.

...to me.

From sculpture

From sculpture

From sculpture

Robot in Autumn

In fall of 2007 I began work on my senior project "Robot in Autumn" officially, although the concept was developed a year before in my Film Theory and Advanced Video classes. Initially I had envisioned it a sort of tribute, then an insult to a girl over a bad break up. The concept, regarding a girl, her inability to cope with her emotions, and her subsequent manifestation of a new robot-self remained the same, but in the end the delivery evolved into an experimental film relying on visuals and repetition in a style attempting to mimic the works of Maya Derren.



The finished product is, to me, exactly not that: finished. There are still pieces I would like to work on before finally submitting it to festivals. It's now been a year since I officially began work on it. It weighs heavy on me. I would like to add some time laps of a spring sun rise to the beginning behind the tree and touch up some of the visual effects. Originally the music was to be composed by my friend Sarah Kropp, but then she went and had a (beautiful) baby and I used a piece I "composed" in Sound Track, though my very good friend Mary Tesch worked her butt off re mixing it as well as doing the sound design. My thanks to her for that. I may or may not one day ask Sarah to have her due go at composing a fit score. All of my friends actually deserve a warm thanks for their contributions to the project. From set construction to help with animating, I could not have done it, and surely not have done it in time with out them.

Here are some stills from the making of. There are plenty more to show, and one day I hope to upload them all, although going through my own albums, not to mention those of my friends who were all clicking away with their phones and cameras, is an arduous task to undertake.


"Maya" in an early stage of design.


Maya on set.


More Maya on set.