How do you know when to take the good with the bad?

I got a picture-message from my sister last night. It was a close up shot my family's Christmas Tree. I'll be honest and say it was a little sad not being there for the tree stuff. I typically don't like to make a big deal out of stuff like that, but nonetheless, I missed them. Weird... I questioned my decision to stay in Atlanta and work on my projects instead of going home like I had originally intended. I don't regret my decision, just questioned it.

I miss my dogs and I miss the smell of the house when the heater is first turned on. I miss the cold wet November leaves on the ground and the way the cold would sting your nose the moment you walked outside. I miss the way the smell of burning wood in the fireplace would warp itself around you and hold you if only for a second. I miss fake fighting and getting tipsy with my siblings and trying to keep it together for dinner. I miss being the only one that didn't close my eyes for the dinner prayer. I miss the Starbucks runs with my siblings--trying to pimp out in the Audi! I miss the taste of the rolls my mom makes. I miss the little subtle decorative hints found throughout the house that suggest what season we're in--be it a candle, or a sad antique toy. I miss my brother and sister playing the drums in the basement or my older sister playing the piano while I try to watch TV. I miss the sound of my walk on the hard wood floors. I miss the small moments when I would look around the house and think to myself " I grew up here?" I miss my mother's uncomfortable sofa that looks awesome, but isn't functional at all. I miss trying to pile into the "tavern room" (all of the rooms have their own name) to watch a movie but with no where to sit. I miss seeing Jack-dog curled up in my dad's leather chair and the way my mom would shout through a whisper for him to get off.

But I don't miss the fighting and the yelling. I don't miss walking on egg shells to keep my father from exploding. I don't miss pretending that nothing bad ever happened there. I don't miss looking at the fireplace in the old living room and reliving everything again. I don't miss getting mad at my dad and being forced to keep it to myself. I don't miss the way we all would fall back into the rolls we had when we were 10 or 11 years old. I don't miss feeling guilty for watching TV. I don't miss the ridiculous requests made by my father. I don't miss the ongoing power struggles. I don't miss the cold administrative conversations with my dad. I don't miss the constant disapproving comments and glances. I don't miss the negative commentary. I don't miss the soapbox political statements.

It's hard to know if I made the right choice.

where are they now...

So within the past two weeks, random people from my past have been popping up out of the blue! And by people of my past, I mean my fellow (and former)r PKD performers!!! About a lifetime ago, I had a 3-year run hosting (and dancing in) a Nickelodeon show at a paw-dunk theme park in the outskirts of Richmond, VA called Paramount's Kings Dominion. It was a white-trash country fair but to me and my friends that worked there it was pretty much hollywood! The show was a real 35 minute-long Nickelodeon show that was written and produced by awesome people from Nickelodeon Studios. We performed 4 shows a day and 5 on Saturdays. It was the most dedicated I've ever been to any job that I've ever had--I had even dropped out of college for a year in an attempt to further my yet-to-being acting career with Nickelodeon.



So why aren't I working there now? This is a loaded question best answered over a spilled bottle of Malibu Rum and Watermelon Smirnoff Ice! Let's just say it eventually felt like the wrong thing for me to be doing at the time...

My favorite part of working there were the rehearsal periods. We had about three weeks to learn the show--dances, lines, blocking, etc.... It was a very intense three weeks and I loved every minute of it. It felt great to come home at 2:00 in the AM and collapse on my bed from exhaustion. There was something so invigorating about being a part of a creative process. I loved to watch the producers, directors, and costume people huttle in a corner while we performed to an empty stadium. Always wondering which one of us they were talking about and who was going to get their ass handed to them for half-assing it.

Being at PC feels a lot like it did when I was rehearsing for the PKD shows. I think that's a very good sign!!!

Fall Into The Gap

So it's been a week and I've been slacking off on the blog. My apologies. But I have been kicking ass with all of my assignments and navigating through the peaks and valleys of motivation!

So Saturday my motivation and inspiration were at an all time low. I didn't want to do a damn thing with design and I was sick of looking at everything I had worked on that week. So I skipped my Saturday class, got myself fixed up to go out (which I haven't done in a while) and set out for the Ansley Square Starbucks for a mid-afternoon Venti Skim with whip Peppermint Mocha! I perused through a bookstore and saturated myself into the see and be seen atmosphere. It was great. I haven't enjoyed being around gay guys in quite some time.

Afterwards, I picked up roommate and we headed to the mall for some food--and he needed a shirt from the gap. So we show up at Lennox Square mall where we hiked through the hordes of cell phone talkers and slow walkers until we reached our destination--the newly redesigned gap store (and by redesign I mean they added more blue-black and dimmed all of the lights). While roommate looked for his special shirt, I began to toy with the idea of getting a puffy vest. It was while abandoning the idea of the puffy vest that I found myself starring at a huge wall of scarves, which were arranged by color. "Consumer-me" took charge of the situation and began to yay or nay each scarf by cross-referencing each scarf in terms of occasion and outfit. Out of the blue, like a knee-jerk reaction, this new "designer-me" stepped in and told consumer-me to fuck off. I began to realize that these scarves were someone else's design. They were good designs, but they weren't my designs. And in this moment I felt like these were the only choices in scarf I could ever have. And that truly disgusted me. And then it hit me--why the fuck couldn't I design a scarf for myself? So then Consumer-me and Designer-me had a little conference call:

CM: So you want to make a scarf?

DM: Yeah, I think I can figure it out!

CM: Can you knit?

DM: No, can you?

CM: No, that's why I'm at the gap dumbass!

DM: Well, these scarves are great, but they're not unique enough for Mr. Fenton.

CM: Who's Mr. Fenton?

DM: I've learned a lot in the past couple months--I’ve cut paper, made boxes, and even worked with leather burning! Why not add knitting to the list?

CM: (silence)

DM: Yea!! Let's do it CM!! Let's learn to knit and make awesome scaves!

CM: What's the worst that could happen?


And then CM and DM went to the Ansley Square Starbucks where they both found hot Latino boyfriends!



So it was while looking at scarves at the gap that i was able to actually feel my own potential. Roommate got his shirt, I got a puffy vest, and we went home and got to work! I like to think that this jolt of gap-induced inspiration was worth missing class for.

And if anyone knows how to knit--please pass along some tips!!! My goal is to have one scarf knitted by Christmas break!

Best read while listening to Sarah McLachlan's Elsewhere from "Fumbling Towards Ectasy"

Today I helped my friend and her girlfriend move into their incredible apartment in Little 5 points! It was actually the first time I’ve enjoyed unloading a U-Haul--probably because it involved 6 awesome people!! It felt a little bit like a cheesy straight-to-DVD gay British movie (the kind that you can only find in certain Blockbusters). It sounds funny, but it felt safe to be around other gay people (plus my roommate) in a setting that didn't involve alcohol or bar smell. Not that I feel unsafe when I'm not around other gay people, but there is always an internal sigh of relief when I know I'm not the only one in the group.

It really sucks when you're the only one of anything in a group. Like if you're the only woman, or the only red-head, or the shortest, or the heaviest. I think we all sometimes feel like the only of one of something when we're in a group. Sometimes that one differentiating characteristic is the basis of our insecurity. I think everyone interprets that insecurity differently, and adapts a certain behavior or persona to cope with it. For example, when I'm the only gay person in a group, it makes me feel a little insecure because I don't know if other people approve of it or not. So I try to find a way--usually with humor--to make it okay for them --and then it makes it okay for me. Now it's pretty simple to say "fuck 'em if the don't approve." "Since when do you need anyone's approval to be who you are?" Well...this looks great on paper, and sounds even better on Oprah, but in reality it's not so cut and dry--at least not for me.

Incidentally, since I've been at Portfolio Center, I'm starting to feel less dependent on other people's approval to substitute a floundering self-esteem. I think it's because my reasons for wanting to come to PC were my reasons, and mine alone. They were not influenced by anyone else, (i.e. my father). I feel like I'm living the life that I want for myself, and not a life that I think my father would approve of. This school may teach a lot about typeface design and color harmonies, but it's a lot more than that to me. I look around at all of the other students and wonder if it means more to them too. I'm curious to know what PC means to other students and graduates of the program.

In honor of the shifting politcal climate, I give you Jem and the Holigrams!

Sibling Rivalery?

And here it is---the AFTER portrait of my new beautiful sisters after completing 6 months recovering from some intense plastic surgery. Up until recently, my parents felt my sisters' picture only belonged in scientific journals documenting the social affects of ugly. My brother and I had to have 72-hour intervention with my folks to convince them to take all of their saved up Christmas money and spend it on plastic surgery for the girls. We all had a good laugh for about 45 consecutive minutes, followed by some heavy drinking and some heavy charades-playing. Long story short--my parents lost the game of drunk-charades, and now my sisters are less ugly then before! Thanks mom and dad!!! Hang in there girls!!! See ya at Thanksgiving!!!

PS--I'm bringing Open-Bar-Nana! wooo hoooooo

Gay fact or fiction

I recently had someone tell me that a gay guy is a girl’s ultimate accessory. Every time I hear some fucked up shit like this a small piece of me dies inside. But I guess to many people, gay guys are fashionable, bitchy, well-groomed men with perfect bodies and a lot of disposable income. To some gay guys, that's exactly the standard they feel they should live up to. Nothing disappoints me more than this thought process. I always feel sad and let down by people who think this way. It also makes me resent myself a little for not adopting this fucked up way of thinking. Sometimes I think if I were more like the stereotyped gay guys, maybe I wouldn't be single.... or maybe I would have a more "fabulous" life.

So, if you don't fit the gay stereo type, then are you still gay? That's a tricky question. In the real world, you're still gay, but just different because you don't use the word fabulous. However, in the gay world you're not understood. You speak a foreign language. Your topics of conversation are confusing and are often followed by long pauses and blank stares. You're different and they fear you. You're not really considered the "right kind of gay."

So what is the "right kind of gay?" He goes to gay pride parades dressed in a cowboy hat and a Speedo. He totes a well-recognized name brand messenger bag, and can identify other people's clothing by name brand and price point. He goes to the same bars and clubs every weekend where he'll dance shirtless while high on some fashionable drug sipping on a vodka tonic. He has two or three boyfriends that probably know about each other and probably met online at some point. He worships gay icons like Madonna, and will proudly drop the name of a friend of a friend who knew someone that did Kelly Clarkson's make up. He wears sunglasses indoors and finds some way to expose his name brand underwear. He goes shopping with his closest girlfriend where they'll tell each other what they want to hear and disregard any sense of personal honesty. He is shallow. He is weak. He tolerates people using the word Gay as an adjective--he perpetuates the social lies that run deep within the thin waters of the gay community.

I clearly see myself as someone who doesn't fit this gay stereotype. However, in some social situations I will sell myself out and adopt some of the characteristics of the "right kind of gay" just to get me through. I'll admit there is some comfort in hiding behind that identity. Nevertheless, it's false, it’s life denying, and it's weak. I haven't met a gay guy yet who understands what this is all about.

enjoying the struggle

If someone is creative, does it mean he/she is also talented? For that matter, if someone is talented, does it mean he/she is creative? Can you have one without the other and still produce good design?

I'm sure these questions have been posed by many design students before me, but I'm really wondering how closely the two go together. There are very talented individuals at PC (and all over the world) who can cut really well with exacto blades and draw perfect thumbnail sketches--but are these people really creative? Which begs the question: what makes someone creative? Am i creative?

If you break the word down, the root word is create, and suffix means to be able to. So you could say that being creative is having the ability to create. This leads me to believe that everyone is creative, meaning everyone has the ability to create something--be it a work of art, a spreadsheet with pie charts, or even another human being. I suppose that's where talent comes in. It takes talent to enhance the ability to create.

Talent, by definition is a natural ability or aptitude. So if talent is natural, can it be taken beyond what naturally exists? I suppose the answer is yes--that's why I'm a student of design--to take my natural ability, and enhance it to a point that it supersedes itself. And this is done by practicing. Well what the fuck does practicing mean? Repeating the same action over and over expecting different results? I guess. Are the next two years of my life going to be all about practicing and getting better?

It's like when you train for a marathon you have to run every day; even if it's just a short distance. The point is to condition your body to accept a certain level of stress. With each run your body gets a little bit more conditioned so that you're able to run longer distances, or short distances faster. Some runs are good and some aren't so good. There are days when you walk, and days where you're able to sprint for a little bit. Being a PC student is exactly like that.

It's all a big struggle. And I'm sure it won't stop after the two-year program at PC. I think that's the point. I like to think that from struggle comes victory. Sometime you're struggling and sometimes your victorious. It's a sick little cycle that can easily fuck up your mind. I've experienced this mind-fuck in my own life several times--hence the name of this blog: fall and recovery. We all fall but not all of us recover.

I am very thankful for the struggles that I've experienced in my life up to this point. Because resilience is born from those struggles. And it's that resilience that will carry me through all of my life's struggles--including the next two years at PC.

dirty filters

My car needs a new air filter. It's pretty clogged up and hasn't been changed in the year and a half that I've had it. That got me thinking about other filters in my life that may need to be changed out. Starting with the one that connects my brain to my mouth!

Last night I attended a a great Halloween party--I dressed up as a gay Marine (pictures to be posted soon). It was an awesome good time. I sheepishly will admit that this party was reminiscent of Halloween parties you might see in the movies or on TV. By this I mean there were costumes, great music, and a long ass fucking line at the bathroom (though you typically don't see bathroom lines in the movies). In addition to the costumes and music, there was alcohol! A lot of fucking alcohol. The funny thing about alcohol is that it has this way of disintegrating the filters of sobriety that enable us to keep our personal thoughts to ourselves. Any attempts to filter thoughts last night were completely shut out due to the unstoppable forces of alcohol. That said, I should apologize to one Blake Wright for grabbing his ass. I should also apologize to Adrian Dickerson for playfully slapping him across the face after describing certain body parts of mine (don't ask!). I should also apologize to the people across the street for eating all of their of hummus--how awkward was that!

I tend to operate on a regular basis with my personal brain filter set to low/non-existent. this typically results in the proverbial line being crossed almost every time I crack a joke. But I like to think that is one of my more positive character traits! Others may beg to differ. And to those people I say " SUCK IT!" But sometimes I think I do it to keep myself at a safe distance from other people; slightly alienated. Because when someone makes an off colored remark, you tend to look at them differently, perhaps with a slightly negative lens. People will always remember how you make them feel. I’m not exactly sure where I’m going with this, but every once in a while I’ll resent myself (just a little) for keeping myself at a “safe” distance from others. I think my behavior at the Halloween party can easily be attributed to that thought process. If I’m loud and gregarious, then I don’t feel like I actually have to talk to people, I’ll try to make sure people only look at me, but not talk to me.

Me and the Pre-PC-Me

As I conclude week 4 of Portfolio Center I am starting to become more aware of little idiosyncrasies that are very different from the pre-PC me. Here are a few:

I no longer feel that the world will end if I do not visit Starbucks on a bi-hourly basis! Instead, I prefer the cheap just add water French Vanilla "cappuccino" from the BP gas station and a bag of Swedish fish (suck it cavities ha ha!).

I don't drive my car nearly as much as I used to. I've had the same tank of gas for 3 weeks now! That’s just plain amazing!!

I have started to identify an AOF in every piece of marketing collateral I see and then scoffing at its use of stock typeface and lack of directional force!

I am actually able to function without cable tv or dvr!

the only time I am in my bedroom is when I am changing clothes or sleeping; all other times I am either in class, or downstairs working, or at the BP.

I leave lights on when I leave the room.

my portion control at dinner is now dictated by Wachovia Educational Loan services.

i am no longer gay (yeah right!)

things that have stayed the same:

I still have trouble managing my time
I still make awkward uncomfortable moments and then laugh at them
I still dance the night away in my living room

PC vs. Family

I had an interesting conversation with my sister Kelly about work and family and how to prioritize the two. Kelly is the oldest of my four siblings. I am the second oldest--how "middle-child syndrome" does that sound! Kelly is also a musical genius who just completed her graduate degree at the Manhattan School of Music for jazz composition. I am sure there are other impressive titles attached to her degree, but unfortunately I don't know them, nor do I honestly understand them (sorry Kelly). Her work ethic is uncanny in addition to her commitment to family.

Here's a non-verbatim recap of our conversation:

Kelly: Why the fuck aren't you coming home for Thanksgiving (okay...I added the fuck part....Kelly hardly ever uses bad words when she talks to me)

Kevin: Well, I'm afraid that coming home for Thanksgiving will be a "rushed" trip that will put me behind in my school work, and I'd prefer to just work through Thanksgiving to keep myself on track and then come home for Christmas when I can truly relax and enjoy being at home.

Kelly: BULLSHIT--taking a day off will only put you behind if you let it. Just manage your time and keep yourself from falling into that trap--I did it for every holiday when I was in grad school. I'm sure your work load is insane, but mine was too. Look, I understand the meaning and purpose of being in a good work flow and keeping it going. You're totally underestimating your ability to keep yourself on track.

Kevin: ________________________________________________________________________________________(long pause; which I usually take when someone has just slapped me with some reality)

Kelly: Besides, at Brent's Wedding, your presence was definitely missed. Because, bottom line, you make me laugh, and it's always more fun when you're around. (Brent is our cousin who was recently married on October 7th, the first weekend of my first quarter at PC--it was also the weekend of my first 2 all nighters).

Kevin: [blushing a little].....yeah i know, aren't I the most awesome---I mean--Reeaaaallly?????!!!!

Kelly: This isn't a power play, I promise. ("power plays" are a constant underlying theme that run deep in my family's decision making process. If at any point one of us thinks the other is taking advantage of the other or trying to control the other, we will automatically resist and argue for the sake of arguing).

Kevin: I think you're arguing this for the sake of arguing!

Kelly: We all just want you to come home. Bottom line.

Kevin: Understood, I'll revaluate my work load and see if I can find a way to make it work. Which means I’ll be going home for Thanksgiving?

But that got me thinking about work and family. I've always lived pretty close to home and never really had an over-demanding work load like I do now. I was always able to come home when I needed to. Sometimes I still think I'm just a 30 minute drive away from seeing my mom and dad.

But at what point do you put your work aside and put family first? I don't know that I have a clean cut answer for that one. I don't know that anyone does. I imagine a lot of people struggle with this issue. And is it considered selfish to put your work before family? When I first made the decision to stay in Atlanta for Thanksgiving, I was aware that I was acting selfishly, but in my mind, it was a "healthy" type of selfishness. However, after realizing what my older sister went through to make it home for holidays when she was in school, it seemed incredibly selfish for me to put work first. I know that if Kelly didn't come home then I would be disappointed too. I'd be disappointed in her for not finding a way to make it work.

I think I'm also starting to realize how strong our family can be when we're all together, and how the family dynamic changes when one of is missing.


Alrght-Alrighty: roll the credits and que the sappy 80's sitcom theme music!)

oh shit

It's almost 6 AM on Thursday morning. I haven't slept more than 3 hours all week. This first quarter is unreal--it's VERY tough.

It's tough because I wanted to be able to walk in here and hit a homerun with every project I work on. I want every piece of work I do to be great, perfect, and effortlessly flawless. I want to be a good designer. Moreover, I want design to be the one thing that I'm naturally good at. I've discussed this concept briefly with other first quarter students ending each conversation with the idea that if everyone walked in here and was good at it, then there would be no point to attending this school. While I know that this is the logical way to approach this quarter, there's a deep emotional part of me that doesn't believe that.

There's this sick part of me that believes everyone has something that they're just naturally good at, like an athlete who just naturally picks up a sport or a musician that can just pick up an instrument and rock the shit out of it. This part of me believed that I was naturally good at design. Three weeks into this quarter and reality has just sucker punched me right in the face, and suddenly I realize I don't know jack shit about any of this. And while that may be the point of the first quarter, I look around at the work that other first quarter students are producing and they're amazing. They're a lot better at it than I am. All of a sudden I find myself struggling to produce mediocre work and I can't help but resent myself for it. So I refuse to sleep until I achieve a level of perfection that I am satisfied with. Then I end up spending an excessive amount of time on one part of a large assignment fearing that the work won't be good enough. The next thing I know It's 6:00 in the morning, the assignment is incomplete, and worst of all, it's less than mediocre--it flat out sucks.

It's like I've hit this wall, and there's this huge wave headed right towards me and if I don't get my ass over this wall, that fucking wave is going to clobber the shit out of me and I'll start to drowned. That is the most unnerving feeling in the world and I’m not sure how to fix it.

The Devil Wears Chicos

it's 10:13 in the AM on Monday 10/16. I just woke up after about three hours sleep. I worked on one project yesterday/ last night/this morning for about 15 hours--here's to week three!

The assignment is to pick an ancient civilization and an animal out of a hat and then produce several final pieces of work which include a poster (made entirely of cut paper) and a gift bag (also made entirely of paper--which I must make myself!). The design of these final pieces must represent the civilization's design aesthetic as well as composition. I choose the Aztec civilization and a deer. So not only do I have to be an expert on the Aztec design, but I have to be an expert on design in general. My initial thought was: "this ain't so bad!....I’ll just put a few triangles on the page and see if it looks good, then go from there!!" I failed to realize that there are these things in design called an Area of Focus, point force, values, symmetry, and a whole slew of design concepts that I'm still learning how to use. There really isn't a book that teaches all of this, so it all must be self-taught in a short amount of time while under the watchful eye of one Sylvia Gaffney.

Sylvia Gaffney is known at the Portfolio Center (as well as Creative Circus) for her keen sense of design as well as her ability to stare you down and, without saying a single word, cause you to doubt the very breath you're about to take, not to mention your design ideas(she also has this way of starring right at you for an extended period of time after you've concluded a brief conversation, what's up with that??) In other words, she's there to weed out all the first quarter students who aren't serious about this program. She's already caused a few first quarter students to curl up in the fetal position and cry silently in their cars. I tell you this now--that ain't happening to this kid!! Growing up gay with an overbearing strict catholic Marine for a father (love ya dad!!) has definitely taught me a thing or two about perseverance, resilience, and not ever being broken!! Bottom line, I'm going to wrestle this class to the ground, punch it in the face three times, send it off to the taxidermist, wait three weeks for it come back mounted on a piece of drift wood with a plaque that says "Suck It" where I'll hang it on the wall and sit around it and tell war stories with my hunting buddies all while wearing boots and a flannel shirt.

To be honest, I am really quite fond of Sylvia. While her teaching methods consist only of extemporaneous lectures and do not include power point presentations, a book, or even a white board, I have a feeling that her lessons will be carried with me for the rest of my design career, and perhaps even my life! This class is not easy! But if it were easy, then there'd be no point. All of my design ideas first quarter will suck and be filled with mistakes! But that's the whole point, that's where the learning happens; in the mistakes. I hope to make so many fucking mistakes this quarter that I'll actually be able to write a manual for the next round of first quarter students coming into PC!!!!

Go Fauxhawk Yourself

This is my first blog ever! Well that's not true. I started a blog last month on my myspace page (www.myspace.com/s2kmfent), however I only did one entry and thought it was lame and then I stopped.


So I've just moved down to Atlanta, GA to start an intensive two-year design program at a school called the Portfolio Center. I'm in week two and I'm enjoying the ride. The people that I've met at the school are the kind of people I've always wanted to meet and be around. Furthermore, they're the kind of people I've always wanted to become. I guess that's because for the last two years I'd been living a life that I thought I had discerned for myself. I finished college, got an awesome job, started buying things that I wanted and felt pretty satisfied. It's funny the way people define their happiness. For me, that happiness was more about having a lifestyle filled with work and happy hours, and an awesome wardrobe! But that's all pretty much bullshit at the end of the day. I guess it was about 4 months ago that I realized how unhappy I was. The life I had wasn't much of a way to live; it was more of a way to die. That's a pretty morbid statement, but I think there's truth in it. I had become complacent and apathetic, everything felt routine and mechanical. In many ways, I felt many parts of me had already started to die off.

So what did I do about it? I walked right out of that life, started drawing thumbnails until 7:30 in the AM, and grew a faux-hawk. (yes, that's right, a faux hawk!)