Art and I have a long awaited heart-to-heart

I've never been an "Art Person", per se.  And especially not a high-minded modern art kinda guy.  You see, Modern Art and I have an agreement:  if I stay away from Art, art agrees to stop keeping me awake at night with horrible doubts about my sanity and the nature of humanity.  Because who needs that?  Not me. 

Dammit, Marcel Duchamp, We had a deal!

I didn't come to this conclusion lightly.  Exit through the Gift Shop helped a lot.  So did the fact that Jackson Pollack exists, and that guy who made a cross out of pee.  If that is art, then I really, really have better things to do. 

However, I recently learned about the basics of aesthetic theory, and the different ways in which people can appreciate art and the principle which make things pleasing to the eye.  Now this is where my life and art begin to intersect.  See, I've made no secret of the fact that I absolutely love webcomics.  I fritter away hours sifting through the archives of amazingly animated, fantastically creative comics like Sam Logan's Sam and Fuzzy, Kate Beaton's Hark a Vagrant!, Evan Dahm's Order of Tales, Jeffery Rowland's Wigu and Overcompensating, Scott Kurtz's PvP, Penny Arcade, Kris Straub's Starslip, and Dresden Codak's Bad Science.

I know that sounds like a lot, but to be honest that's probably not even half of them. My god, I've just outed myself as a massive nerd.  It was bound to happen, I guess.  But the point is, these are all beautiful.  In order for me to follow a webcomic, I have to be sure of the artist's chops.  Now I can recognize and verbalize what I like about each comic, each style:  I can understand the use of continuity and composition in each frame.  I'm no critic, but I'm no longer illiterate to the art that actually goes into something I love and enjoy everyday. 

You may have hurt me in the past, Art, but I'm willing to to make this work if you are.  C'mere, ya big lug!

But not You, Jackson Pollack!  You make painting like baby.

Visual Symbols

We all have some symbols that we immediately recognize as being important, or at least meaning something:  the dollar sign, McDonald's M's, traffic lights, those little Jesus fishes that people stick to their cars.  They all mean something to all of us collectively, but we each have our own personal visual symbols that speak to us on a more intimate level than our greater cultural symbols.  So i stopped and thought about some of my own visual symbols, and these are just a few of what I came up with:

Pic by Tom Morgan.

The Digital Envelope.
This symbol--and its one we probably all recognize--is now synonymous with almost all of our communication:  e-mail, text, voicemail, etc, and in our increasingly technological and connected world, this little symbol is the most likely one we are to see when someone is trying to communicate with us. 






The Gas Gauge:

Photo by Jackson Carson: 
I think there's a metaphor in there, too.

The gas gauge is pretty strange, in that it symbolizes a number of different things. The first and most cynical is poverty.  Or, rather that everything costs something, and it often takes money, or at least a continued investment, to keep things running.  It also holds a deep emotional resonance, as the gas gauge is a physical representation of anxiety and worry.  I rely on my car to get to school, work, and everywhere else I need to go, and there have been more than a few times when I've had to white-knuckle the steering wheel while I stare down at the orange gas light and empty gauge.  Even now, whenever I get behind the wheel of my car, I get that quick pang in the pit of my stomach, that little arrowhead of worry still stuck in my guts.



The Low Battery Light:

Photo by Matt Thomas.  Mine doesn't have a dead bird,
that might be a little too much even for me.

While I picked out the low battery icon as a purely visual symbol, I have to admit that my phone, as much of an ancient brick as it is, is an amazing barometer for my life.  My phone is tied immediately to my current stress level.  It reminds me that it is impossible to truly get away, and is a constant reminder of things I have to do, and many times, it is the way those things are delivered.  The more busy I am the more I use it, and it shows.  When I get busy, i often forget to charge it, and so I've had many nights trying to finish a project, and my phone will sit on my desk, a chirping, stalwart brick, reminding me that though I'm busy, I, like my phone, will eventually run out of juice, and will need to be recharged.  I can take that metaphor in stride, but it is the mornings I wake up after two or three hours of sleep. I reach for my phone, bleary-eyed and still exhausted, to silence the horrible alarm sounds, only to find the little battery icon is still a few bars short, in a sickly yellow or amber shade, and I have to shudder at how eerily accurate the symbolism has become.