down is the new up.

April

2009-04-25T13:10:00.001-07:00

Why I love Pittsburgh.

This was made with 3000 still photos.

Luke and I shot over the space of about an hour.

What it is.

2009-04-23T15:25:00.001-07:00

It's been one helluva week.

Had a great conversation with this guy. Really inspirational and encouraging too.

Then I almost flew out to LA to shoot a music video, then I didn't, and now I'm going next weekend to do a video for these guys. I had never heard of them, but apparently they have a song in the top 40. Who knew. Also, doing a vid for another up and coming, which is exciting.

There are a few other maybes in the works with some artists I really really like, but I'll keep quiet about them for a time.

In the meantime, Kathryn and I are learning to trust eachother. I made her the following piece after being, essentially, a basket case for about three days straight. I made it because I love her, I try to love her, and the image of water is the closest thing I've found to what love feels like.

Grace and Peace,

Samm

Pro-Bono T-Shirts.

2009-04-13T14:14:00.001-07:00

Don't get any big ideas... I have some pretty strict rules on doing design for free, even for friends, but... who can say no to a beautiful woman.

I drew up (or collaged, ratherd) these t-shirts for my wife's weekend youth retreat (which, oh yeah, I'm going on as a counselor).

Anyway, I like 'em. These kids are going to be the hippest bunch of youthgroupers ever. The black shirts will be printed in metallic silver!

I do what I can to spare the youth groups of the world from hideous design (cut to beach scene, man throws a starfish into the ocean, locks eyes with the camera and says "we can't save all of them, that's true," man throws starfish into ocean whistfully, returns gaze to camera, "but we saved that one. we saved that one"). alright. enough of that.

here they are:

Between Death and Life/The Modern Life

2009-04-11T09:38:00.000-07:00

I've always found The Desert to be one of the most powerful symbols in the redemptive narrative. The Desert is where people generally get stuck after some powerful act of God and before the fulfillment of his promises. It's true for Paul (his time as tentmaker), it's true of Elijah (after the prophets of Baal, before the "still small voice" sequence), it's true of Moses (between the killing of the Egyptian and leading Israel out of Egypt), and it's true of Christ (between his baptism and the beginnings of his ministry). Believe it or not, the list goes on. Almost every person who is "used by God" in some powerful way is immediately drawn into a "desolate place" and is sat there for a very long time. Usually that very long time is associated with the number 40: 40 days, 40 nights, 40 years. The meaning of this number is (of course) up for some debate, but the general idea is that is has the connotation of a veritable eternity. Jewish mysticism taught that fasting for 40 days would atone for all of ones sins, Eastern Orthodox churches have 40 windows in their dome to represent the eternity of heavens, and 40 days of rain was enough to wipe out all life on earth.

Essentially, the message is this: God takes you to The Desert for an eternity. Until you are completely desolate. Until there is nothing left. Then he can use you.

Perhaps the most powerful Desert narrative is that of Israel. After they were freed from slavery in Egypt, they spent 40 years in The Desert, waiting for the Promised Land. And they died there.

I think that this important for us, because this is where we live: between violent act of redemption and the completion of the promises we long for.

On Saturday, between death and resurrection, we find ourselves in the same place.

I'm going to leave you with three things to contemplate, the first is a link to an interactive website that details the ennui, anger, ineptitude and loneliness. The next is a song from Wolf Parade, and finally, a video I made last Easter. It's a bit rough, but along these lines.

Take some time to feel the silence and angst today before you jump to Sunday.

Grace and Peace,

Samm

Modern World - Wolf Parade

Rebirth from samm hodges on Vimeo.

Good Friday (The Darkest Day)

2009-04-10T13:34:00.000-07:00

I made two pieces for the stations of the cross at my church.

The first is "Christ falls the second time" which I did a massive print for (3'x5'!)

It discusses how humankind's fall effects creation, eachother, and here, Christ.

The second piece is disturbing, and should be. it's preceeded by this:

Here it is:

THE DARKEST DAY from samm hodges on Vimeo.

What do you feel about a piece like this being used in a church service? How should we commemorate "good" friday?

Inspiration

2009-04-07T11:35:00.000-07:00

One of the marks of a true creative amateur is that they will chalk their lack of artistic output to a lack of 'inspiration.' Anyone who works as a professional creative will tell you that inspiration is a help, but by no means a requisite in creating art. As a matter of fact, I feel that some of my best work has come when I was feeling incredibly dry, detached and generally despondent.

That said, when inspiration does strike, it's a glorious day.

Over the past two days, I've been working on mock-ups for two print campaigns for Holy Trinity Chicago. These were made over a 15-hour period:

Anyway, it was fun while it lasted.

I've been working as a "creative professional" now for about 8 months, and the learning curve has been extreme. It's nice to have weeks were I feel "in the zone." Not essential, but nice.

Also, I'd appreciate some feedback: which designs are the best and why? Which ones miss you entirely?

Grace & Peace,

Sammuel

Christianity is a Religion, Get Over It (Please).

2009-04-03T06:25:00.000-07:00

For most of my evangelical life, the slogan "Christianity is not a Religion, it's a Relationship" has been one of those bumper-sticker catch-phrases that make up about nine tenths of evangelical dialogue. I understand the appeal; 21st century America (not to mention the 21st century world) doesn't want religion. Especially not the "organized" kind. If religion seemed arcane and befuddled to our modernist parents, it seems overly authoritative and restrictively moralistic to us.

Unsurprisingly, there's an intrinsic problem with Evangelicalism's dissociative complex: it's fundamentally self-defeating. I can't speak for the world on its problems with religion, but two complaints I hear over and over again about religion are:

1. An unwillingness to listen to other human being's opinions, stories and convictions.
2. The assumption that one's particular religious sect is the end-all truth source.

You see what I mean. The very act of disassociating from the term "religion" smacks of everything that's bad with religion to begin with. It's us vs. them and sounds a lot like insider co-dependency.

I appreciate the thought... I too hope that my relationship with YHWH is bigger than a system of ritual and candelabra, but to say that the way you approach the Holy is different from how everyone else approaches the Holy because you are (and this is what the little catch-phrase insinuates) unquestionably right is incredibly arrogant to say the least.

Everyone believes they're right, there's nothing wrong with that, but to pretend that we're not even in the same camp as Buddhists, Muslims, Agnostics, and yes, Atheists everywhere is to say that we are somehow intrinsically superior beings.

I have to reject this. Everyone's trying to figure out just who this God or Spirit or Force is, and it's not easy. I have some pretty strong opinions about Jesus of Nazareth, and I'm at a point in my life where I have great peace about my religious beliefs, but I'm not going to pretend that I'm not doing just exactly what everyone else is doing: making stabs in the dark about things I haven't the slightest clue about.

Admitting that Christianity is a flawed and incomplete system of belief is not succumbing to absolute relativism, it's succumbing to the reality of your own humanity. Stating your beliefs in more and more caustic ways doesn't make you a holier person. In fact, I'm pretty sure it does the opposite.

Certainly, I recognize that being part of a religion isn't the hippest thing right now. I'm glad that people want to take their faith seriously, and I hope that's the intention behind these kind of slogans. But the syntax with which you express your seriousness has to be thoughtful, and, well, Christ-like. You can think you're right, but you can't think you're better.

Grace and Peace,

Samm

Finishing Mystery

2009-03-21T07:33:00.000-07:00

It's six AM and I ask Luke when was the last time he saw the sunrise. It's the fourth night of this, 2 days late on a deadline. The first night staying up until 4 was fun, kind of. This is no longer fun.

I limp into the bedroom utterly spent, washed out, defeated. Kathryn's sleeping soundly, but I can't, so I talk to her. I tell her how angry I am to have to compromise, how I'm glad I'm a christian so I at least have someone to apologize to for my slipshod representations of anything worth looking at. The project lays restless in the other room, tentacled and squirming, unwilling to be shaped.

Kate wakes up and asks me if I've finished it.

Not even close, I tell her. Not even close.

* * *

Three days later, there haven't been any miracles. It's still not even close, not even close to what I imagined it being, but it's "done." No visible errors. A few sloppy green-screen pulls, but as good as we could get them.

In a way, the completion of each project is both a birth and a burial. There is a joy in the unveiling of a piece of work, the unflagging support of friends and family who say, quite honestly, that they have been moved. Every piece has the potential to shape thoughts, to stimulate imaginations, to disturb the waters of forgotten memories.

But at the end of every work, I have to come to terms with my own frailty, with the limitations of my talent, my time, my mind and my means. With close of each project, I bury the dreams I had for it, the hopes of what it might have become.

In some real sense, the work is inhibited only by me, nourished only by me, and all that is beautiful and ugly, formed and incomplete in that work is a reflection of that shocking disparity I find in myself.

When I worked on these pieces purely for 'pleasure,' I wrote off that nagging sense of ineptitude as artistic insecurity, and certainly that's a part of it. But in my limited time as an 'artistic professional,' I've crossed the same ground enough times to sense that there is something deeper here.

I see that the arc of each work mirrors the arc of the seasons which in turn mirror the curvature of the redemptive cycle in each human life. The eclipse of such joy and such ringing defeat stand in my life as a reminder of the process I'm in: a drawn-out system of death to self and life to new-self. Birth and burial, crucifixion and resurrection -- the simultaneous sounds of death and life singing wildly in each ear.

* * *

I'm not finished yet, not even close.

Recipe 1: Thai Chicken Coconut Stew.

2009-03-20T11:50:00.000-07:00

I think that Thai food is... fantastic. The complexity and richness of thai soups is especially compelling. This is my first attempt. It's about... $23 for 6 people. Not incredibly cheap, but so worth it.

You'll need:

A Wok (or a large soup bowl)
1 Onion
4 cloves Garlic
2 Tomatoes
1 lb Asparagus
3 cans Coconut Milk
2 stalks Lemon Grass
1 can Stir Fry Mushrooms
3 Chicken Breasts
6 cubes Chicken Stock
3 cups Water
1 Avocado, sliced
12 oz purchased or improvised curry sauce (I used a cashew curry sauce from the local market)
Fish Sauce
Lime Juice
Honey
Peanut Butter
Grated Ginger
Fresh or Dried Basil

1. Preheat the Wok with a little olive or peanut oil. Finely Chop Onion, crush and dice garlic, add onion and garlic to Wok.

2. Rinse and cut Asparagus into 1-inch pieces and add to the sauteing garlic and onion. Cut and crush 2-inch pieces of Lemon Grass and add to the mix. After 5 minutes, remove vegetables.

3. Heat Wok to high and add thin-sliced chicken tossed in grated ginger. Allow chicken to sear, tossing every minute or so. Once the chicken is seared on both sides (it can still be pink in the middle), return the vegetables to the wok. Add mushrooms. Add curry sauce and continue to saute for 5 minutes.

4. Add coconut milk to mixture and bring to a boil. Add six cubes chicken stock and 4 cups hot water.

5. Pour boiling water over Tomatoes. Remove skin. Coarsely chop and add to soup.

6. Add Peanut Butter (3 Tbsps) and Honey (1/2 cup) to soup. Add lime juice and fish sauce to taste. Allow soup to simmer for at least 30 min.

Serve with sliced avocado. Pair with a white wine (reisling would be great), and a little sushi (I'm thinking philly rolls).

Enjoy!

Mystery

2009-03-20T11:44:00.000-07:00

I recently created this video. We'll talk about the process later. Let's say it was not fun, but very... growing. Hope you enjoy.

Mystery from samm hodges on Vimeo.

Jan. 25th

2009-03-20T11:39:00.000-07:00

We skid sideways against the traffic, spinning in long, Fibonaccian arcs. Headlights as spotlights, paired and turning against us in tandem.

My mouth screams obscenities, my mind detaches, drifts upward, observes.

And I am not far from the tidal pool now, watching what forces bend, what forces pull. There is no illusion of control, there is utter simplicity. This will happen and then this. My mind cannot calculate the trajectory, but the trajectory is there. Anything could have happened, but this, this is happening now.

-----

Her hands are still clutching the wheel and I put my hand on her shoulder and it is dark all around us. The car is still running. I have an urge to look back over my shoulder and see that moment in stone, to see that narrow gap in probability we slid through, the thousand wires that didn't snap.

Of course, it is gone, long gone by now.

She tells the police officer she doesn't know what happened. He seems untroubled.

No one knows what happened. How could you?

---------

Keats is pouncing on us as we're falling asleep, half-pretending to be a lion.

My toes are numb from the cold interstate concrete.

My hand rests on her stomach, and I can feel her warm, fragile life swimming up against the skin.