I’m writing this story as it comes to me, and posting it here, so it’s probably not going to be very polished. Fun experiment though.

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Birthdays never meant much to me. Well, that’s not entirely true. I am sort of an only child, so I got great presents and lots of attention back when I was a kid. Lately, though, I haven’t had much to be excited about. I’d say the past 5 years or so have passed me by without the slightest hint of circumstance. Today I turned 30.

I counted spots on the ceiling as my alarm clock nagged me to my senses. I think I had been dreaming about the end of the world. What a relief. I had an early appointment with the immortality people. It’s not really my style to wake up before noon but I wanted to make sure I could get in and out of there before … I don’t know. Maybe I had hoped I’d still be groggy and wouldn’t pay attention to what was actually happening. I don’t like to think about it very much. Naturally, it’s been on my mind constantly. Anyway, I had some serious, pathetic self destruction to tend to later on in the day… “Let’s get this over with,” I said to nobody.

I know how ridiculous that must sound, but let me assure you that people used to do that. I’ve read lots of old books and listened to lots of old music. I even found some old cookbooks. I’m sort of an authority on stupid, reckless behavior. Relatively speaking, of course. As far as I can tell, the human propensity for risk taking was all but obliterated when they figured out this treatment. I had to work pretty hard to learn what I have; it’s as if learning stuff is dangerous in itself.

Obviously, the world we know today is vastly different from the one left behind by our past, mortal selves. And it’s been that way for a while. But as I stared myself down in the mirror, I still couldn’t wrap my head around what I was about to do. Weird notions wafted through my skull like that weird, pleasant stench coming from my sink. (I could never figure out what that was.) I pushed everything aside and thought about the future. “Tonight,” I said to myself. I found a guy who could get me anything I need: speakers with no volume limits, a trampoline, beer, even pizza. Yes. “Tonight I’m going to fucking party.”

I just got back from a short stay on the West Coast. I was showing Liz around for what was her second visit to California, the first of her adult life, and her first-ever trip to southern California. Highlights were plentiful, but I think the most relevant tale to tell here has very little to do with anything:

My mom made us a delicious apple pie, but she didn’t have any vanilla ice cream to go with. She’s sort of lactose intolerant, so there wasn’t even milk in the house to drink with the pie. Being my mom, she offered to run to the store to get some ice cream for us. Being an adult, I ignored my burning desire to eat a whole tub of ice cream and told her that such a trip was unnecessary. She joked that she had some Klondike Bars that we could eat with the pie, and I called her bluff. I grabbed a steak knife and sliced the chocolate shell off the vanilla ice cream and voila-la-mode! It was pretty great, because then we had all these chocolate flakes to eat too.

Back in Chicago, I have a lot that I am about to start working on and I’m very excited about it all, but I don’t want to forget about the Limited Edition prints. I spent enough time making ‘em for “Christ”‘s sake. I think if I was ever in a real band, I would not like touring as much as recording — once I finish a project, I am fully satisfied with my accomplishment and ready to move on. That attitude is good for the ego, bad for the wallet. The call for a part-time Baskauskas publicist remains open. If you start working now, I will guarantee 15% of art-based income for the rest of our working relationship, as well as free entry and cheese at all art events involving me forever. Incentives will be offered.

Tomorrow: Part I of my futuristic sci-fi utopia tale!

It was pretty good.

Akemi and I ate it while watching MOON, which was also pretty good. It started off a bit shaky, as if they were going for some cheesy mid-2000s technology-horror vibe (think The Ring), but it quickly straightened out into a thoughtful and entertaining journey to the center of the human condition. The feel good event of the summer. Okay, that was phony, but I swear I really liked the film. A guy stranded in space with a robot — what’s not to like? If you squint hard enough, one of his meals even looks like pizza. I am going to be writing a short science-fiction story before the summer is through, and it will deal with some similar topics. I won’t offer any spoilers for either the film or my little deal, but of course, like most interesting things, they both discuss death and stuff. (In a poetic way, not like some cheesy horror movie or something.)

I just read this very good interview with Jim from Pennywise, who recently left that band after about 20 years to start a new one. He seems to be right there with everyone who criticized Pennywise for sounding the same for so long, but his words suggest a problem that artists face once they find something that people like. Being successful is fun (probably), so do you try to recreate the magic you’ve just found? Or do you continue to push forward toward something else? There’s no shame in being comfortable; some of the best artists find a style and stick with it, using their career to explore the limits of their “voice.” In fact, if these Limited Edition prints sell out, I’ll happily go sand all the paint off of another car as soon as I can. But until then, I’m going to give that sci-fi story a shot.

I think it’s best to stay busy, experimental, and open. I know for my work that even though the forms may range widely, it’s pretty clear it’s all coming from the same place (my brain). Same thing goes for my pal Joe Winter, who was a grad student at UCSD while I was an undergrad. Everything he does is “different,” but completely traceable from one work to the next. And completely awesome.

I had two ideas for the cookbook, but a quick google search led me to find that my most exciting idea had already been done: Spaghetti-O Pizza. I’ll figure out some variation that is uniquely mine. Basically I want to open a can of something, put it on something else, and then add cheese and bake it for a while. Shouldn’t be too hard, and I think I will go ahead and try that shit anyway.

My other idea was inspired a bit differently from the rest of the dishes I’ve come up with so far for Desolation Bowl. Instead of an empty fridge and pantry, I started at the grocery store. I had ridden my bike, so the spoils of my journey needed to fit in my backpack. I didn’t really consider that while filling my basket until it was too late — I had already just kind of randomly taken things that I like. So, I don’t really have any focal items to cook around. Instead I’m going to just throw everything I bought into a casserole and see what happens:

Pasta (some twisty little guys)
Salami
Mushrooms
Tomatoes
Spinach
Onion
Bell pepper (red)
Assorted Italian spices

Of course, there are a few kinds of cheese in my fridge, some milk, and I have some corn starch in the pantry. I’ll probably cook this tomorrow and let you know what happens. I realize that so far this entire book is just different ways of using cheese and deli meat to make things that aren’t sandwiches. I think I will break it up in sections, such as “deli meat: the other meat” “canned: good,” peanut butter on a spoon,” etc.

I would like to note that about a week ago I shopped at Stanley’s Fruit and Vegetables for the first time, and I probably won’t bother going anywhere else as long as I live in Chicago. It’s where I got all of the above foods for like fifteen bucks. Great deals on produce, completely reasonable pricing for meats and cheeses, free canvas bag w/$20 purchase, fresh potato chip samples every day, and dude flying a watermelon-airplane while smoking a pipe as a logo.

I’ll be trying to show my Limited Edition work in various places for a while. My step-mom found this one, as she’s an active member of the book arts community. They aren’t much for verbosity — the application requires a 300-character (approx. 50 word) general artist statement (written in the third person) and a 150-word description of the work. That is not easy:

On one hand, Eric Baskauskas is interested in the loftiest of thoughts (oh, the enormity of eternity!). On the other, he grounds himself in details most minute and mundane (the dust on his garage floor). He suggests that these two realms aren’t so different. His hybrid content manifests itself in a hybrid practice: a mix of conceptual art and graphic design.

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Using print/books allows for a deliberate use of time — pacing and rhythm are essential. Thematically, my work deals with such things as youth’s disappearance, the apocalypse, and meals: beginnings, ends, cycles. Light and color are focal — not only does our relationship with the sun dictate the daily passage of time but also, simply, what we can and cannot see.

Time’s influence is evident in the process and materiality of my most recent work. I sandpapered all of the paint from the exterior of my Nissan Sentra “Limited Edition” and then painted it with gray primer. I saved all of the dust that came off the car during sanding, then mixed the dust with oil to make ink. I letterpress printed with that ink to produce an edition of prints. In the car and the prints, the end products are destined to live on, change, and eventually expire.

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We’re out of food again.

ericbaskauskas.info/LE
ericbaskauskas.bigcartel.com

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It’s been a long time coming, but at least I’m a day earlier than I expected. Extra special thanks to Liz for helping with the web design. News on art show/birthday extravaganza coming soon!