Archive for the ‘my life’ Category

Paper As The Medium

I finally managed to see the Paper.Works exhibit at the Arvada Center for the Arts and Humanities. There is only one more day left in the run. The exhibit consists of works by twenty artists who use paper as their artistic medium. The show is excellently curated. Here are some of my favorites:

Michael McClung, Untitled 1, burned vellum on mat board, $2,500

Jenene Nagy, Older Than The Host 11, graphite on folded paper, $2,400

Mike Neff, Cut The Rainbow, hand cut paper, $180 – $250

Myron Melnick, Fetish Futurismo, burnished cast paper, $7,000

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Yesterday, I had a conversation with my manager at the consulting company in New York. I asked him why the client hired me because they have not given me any assignments. According to my manager, I was hired because I had the best communication skills of all the candidates interviewed, and I could hold my own with the VP. The client wanted me under contract so I wouldn’t accept another offer. He also alluded that being a white male was also a qualifying factor. A white male helping another white male. Is that a justifiable form of affirmative action when most of the workers are Indian?

I have attended one three-hour conference call and obtained access to a few secure client portals. Other than that, I have done nothing. I sit at my plastic table by the window and try to look busy. Most days are spent watching the traffic on I-25. Sometimes I follow the private jets taking off and landing at Centennial Airport. I would read blogs and cruise the net but my laptop is visible as soon as others enter the office. I guess I should enjoy the downtime. Others have told me there are many projects entering the pipeline in the next thirty days. I may miss the slow time soon.

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Bitched-Slapped By Reality

After my first day at work, I met Perry at the museum for the opening of Common Ground: Photographs by Fazal Sheikh, 1989 – 2013. The exhibit has more than 170 portraits and landscape photographs. They convey stories of people living in displaced and marginalized communities around the world.

I wasn’t in a good mood. The work day hadn’t gone well. I had to commute in rush hour traffic. I was tired and hungry. I was in a down mood about the job and my life. I thought my life sucked. I was tempted to blow off the event but I had committed to going. And I always keep my word.

The exhibit sounded like a major buzz kill. I sucked it up, put a smile on my face, and entered the museum even though inside I wanted to go home and climb in bed.

The photographs were stunningly beautiful sepia toned and black and white images. Many of the photos were taken in East Africa, India, Pakistan and Afghanistan. Towards the end of the exhibit a room was dedicated to photos of a woman living in the Asylum Seeker’s Center in Amsterdam. Men broke into her house and raped her in front of her children after killing her father. Her mother died a week later. Her house was traded for passage to Denmark. The funds only allowed the woman and her son leave. Her husband and two daughters were left behind in Somalia.

I felt like reality bitch-slapped me when I left the room. My life is a walk in the park compared to what this woman has endured, and continues to experience. I’m an over-privileged white man feeling down about a job with hefty paycheck, but less than ideal parameters. I regretted feeling sorry for myself because of truly insignificant issues. I have never experience hardships like this woman, or the other subjects in the photos, have suffered. I felt ashamed of myself.

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Like Hell With A Paycheck

Kumar, Lekhana, Shruthi, Sudhindra, Sabarivasan, Sangeeta, Shreeshail, Sairam are the members of my team. This is the first time in my career that I have been a minority in the office. It’s rather strange.

All my team members are contractors, including my manager. Almost everyone in this office is a contractor. There are additional contractors offshore. There are very few employees. My desk is a plastic table along a bank of windows. Plastic tables are set in any area that doesn’t create a fire hazard. There are two people working in each cubicle that was designed for one person. It’s like working in a sardine can.

The majority of staff is male. The bathroom is undersized for the number of people on the floor. As a result, guys are often in line to use one of the two urinals. God forbid if I have to pinch a loaf at work.

Almost everyone speaks Hindi. I think that’s what they are speaking given most of the people are Indian and that’s the official language of India. I could be wrong given India has twenty-two different languages. It’s really odd working in an office where most of the workers are using a language you don’t understand. It doesn’t feel welcoming at all. Most of the people ignore me.

I don’t have a phone. I have to use my cell phone. I don’t have a laptop. I had to bring my own. I don’t have an ID badge so I can’t access the other floors in the building. The lunch room is on another floor so I ate my lunch at my desk. I billed my lunch time to the client for holding me hostage. Even though my contract was signed three weeks ago, my manager had no plan for my first day. He was too busy to meet with me. He had failed to find me a mentor. I spent the day looking at the various company portals. I was basically paid to look out the window all day and tinker on my laptop.

It’s only the first day. I need to give it some time. Perhaps it will grow on me.

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Squirrel Watch

I saw this piece at Access Gallery last Friday night.

Howard Harris, Squirrel Watch, dye sublimation on aluminum, $1,100.

I found this description of Access online:

Some people with disabilities are artists, too, and VSA Colorado supplies such talents with tools, mentorship and a leg up on successful self-expression. The organization also gives its young artists a place to show their work in public, at Access Gallery. Affordable urban folk art, streetwise canvases and even commissioned dog portraits are available through Access.

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Repurposing An Dead Tree

I saw this sculpture in the East 7th Avenue Historic District on Wednesday on my way to the concert at the Denver Botanic Garden. The owners of a dead tree used the remains to build an innovative and interesting yard sculpture. How cool is that?

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Best In Show

The usual suspects hit the First Friday art walk on Santa Fe tonight. The street was closed down making navagation a breeze. A pletora of food trucks served up tasty offerings. This is my favorite from the art tour tonight.

Michael Warren Contemporary, Andrew Roberts-Gray, paint and silk screen on sand blasted mirror affixed to panel, 24′” x 30″, $1,200

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