I drew this one night thinking about what the winters were going to be like in Boulder, Colorado. It was fun to draw and it reminds me of that character style from the 90's.
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Sketchbook Post 34
Om Brzee Namaha!
I drew this one night thinking about what the winters were going to be like in Boulder, Colorado. It was fun to draw and it reminds me of that character style from the 90's.
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
I drew this one night thinking about what the winters were going to be like in Boulder, Colorado. It was fun to draw and it reminds me of that character style from the 90's.
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Video Post: The Liberation of Canary Wharf
Om Brzee Namaha!
Free your Self...
Corporations & Government are Over, if you Want It.
Expand your mind: We Are Change
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Free your Self...
Corporations & Government are Over, if you Want It.
Expand your mind: We Are Change
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Sketchbook Post 33
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Fine Art Post 9
Om Brzee Namaha!
I drew a sketch for this portrait while I was selling prints on Pearl Street one day. I came home, inked it, and then colored it digitally. I think I'm on to something new, for me?
For more portrait work check out: Portraits
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
I drew a sketch for this portrait while I was selling prints on Pearl Street one day. I came home, inked it, and then colored it digitally. I think I'm on to something new, for me?
For more portrait work check out: Portraits
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Monday, August 17, 2009
Video Post: Raw Couple on Raw Food World
Om Brzee Namaha!
Meredith and I were featured on Matt Monarch and Angela Stokes-Monarch Raw TV Show!!! Meredith organized a Raw Food Event this past Sunday and Matt and Angela were the speakers, as well as the focus, of the event. The day was really successful, there was a great turnout. Matt and Angela are huge inspirations to Meredith and I and we actually made the final decision to "go" 100% Raw after seeing Angela on CNN. There will be more on this story in the future when Meredith and I will be presenting a whole new website and virtual information center... so look out for that! Many Blessings to Matt and Angela, they are true beacons of Light and at the same time are extremely down to earth. It was enlightening to meet them and a pleasure!
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Meredith and I were featured on Matt Monarch and Angela Stokes-Monarch Raw TV Show!!! Meredith organized a Raw Food Event this past Sunday and Matt and Angela were the speakers, as well as the focus, of the event. The day was really successful, there was a great turnout. Matt and Angela are huge inspirations to Meredith and I and we actually made the final decision to "go" 100% Raw after seeing Angela on CNN. There will be more on this story in the future when Meredith and I will be presenting a whole new website and virtual information center... so look out for that! Many Blessings to Matt and Angela, they are true beacons of Light and at the same time are extremely down to earth. It was enlightening to meet them and a pleasure!
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Awesome People Post IV: Eckhart Tolle
Om Brzee Namaha!
This a portrait I did of my homeboy Eckhart Tolle. He is probably my, as well as many others, biggest contemporary spiritual inspiration. After reading his books and watching him speak, I have noticed a drastic shift in my awareness and level of peace. Obviously, it's not all about Eckhart Tolle; my spiritual awareness began before I even heard of him but he definitely brings a streamline and refreshing view of how to approach the Self, the Ego, and Awareness. I am very greatful for a being like Eckhart.
For more portrait work check out: Portraits
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
This a portrait I did of my homeboy Eckhart Tolle. He is probably my, as well as many others, biggest contemporary spiritual inspiration. After reading his books and watching him speak, I have noticed a drastic shift in my awareness and level of peace. Obviously, it's not all about Eckhart Tolle; my spiritual awareness began before I even heard of him but he definitely brings a streamline and refreshing view of how to approach the Self, the Ego, and Awareness. I am very greatful for a being like Eckhart.
For more portrait work check out: Portraits
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Sketchbook Post 32
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Sketchbook Post 31
Sketchbook Post 30
Om Brzee Namaha!
This is sketch includes the new design for my 'Light Being' character. I have taken some older characters that I have used in past paintings and I'm revamping them a bit to include in a new series of paintings for the Hundredth Monkey Effect.
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
This is sketch includes the new design for my 'Light Being' character. I have taken some older characters that I have used in past paintings and I'm revamping them a bit to include in a new series of paintings for the Hundredth Monkey Effect.
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Monday, August 10, 2009
Sketchbook Post 29
Om Brzee Namaha!
I was looking up how to make my own clothes and I was getting some ideas from indigenous culture and dress. I think this winter I might try to make a complete wardrobe, we'll see though... I will probably have to ask my Special Lady, Meredith, for some help.
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
I was looking up how to make my own clothes and I was getting some ideas from indigenous culture and dress. I think this winter I might try to make a complete wardrobe, we'll see though... I will probably have to ask my Special Lady, Meredith, for some help.
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Illustration Post 11
Om Brzee Namaha!
Organic Food may or may not be trendy or something to be "into" but I don't view the poisoning of our food supply as fashion. I wear skinny jeans, that's fashionable. Caring about and informing one self about the quality and nutritional value of our food supply, is not a trend as much as it is an evolution and it should never be taken lightly. We all must start educating ourselves on things like agriculture, organic farming and gardening, as well as newer methods of growing like permaculture and hydroponics. Genetically Modified Organisms or GMO's, through companies like Monsanto will ruin the food supply and the soil, they already have to a large degree and we must not let this happen any further... at least start doing your own research on it and discover this for yourself. There are many solutions.
Check out new Illustrations @: Illustrations
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Organic Food may or may not be trendy or something to be "into" but I don't view the poisoning of our food supply as fashion. I wear skinny jeans, that's fashionable. Caring about and informing one self about the quality and nutritional value of our food supply, is not a trend as much as it is an evolution and it should never be taken lightly. We all must start educating ourselves on things like agriculture, organic farming and gardening, as well as newer methods of growing like permaculture and hydroponics. Genetically Modified Organisms or GMO's, through companies like Monsanto will ruin the food supply and the soil, they already have to a large degree and we must not let this happen any further... at least start doing your own research on it and discover this for yourself. There are many solutions.
Check out new Illustrations @: Illustrations
Om Eim Saraswatyei Swaha!
Peace Profound
::)
Dustin
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Written Word: Critical Waste
Om Brzee Namaha!
Critical Waste
I watched the latest Dane Cook special, “Isolated Incident.” He has a bit about an e-mail he received that read, “Both of your parents got cancer and died to get away from your shitty comedy.” Laughter halted. I was stunned for a second. I wondered who in their right mind would send an e-mail like that. Dane tumbled around the brain when I rested my head that night. I remembered the first time I saw him on Comedy Central Presents. There was a lot of physical comedy. His stories made me laugh. After the viewing, I was a fan.
My sister and I went to see Dane Cook at the Rochester Institute of Technology. There was a massive line and he sold the place out. He had a completely new routine from the “Comedy Central Presents” performance. A few weeks later, back in my hometown area, he performed at Marist College. I went to see him again, thinking I’d be seeing the same act I saw in Rochester, but didn’t care too much because I enjoyed it. To my surprise, fifty percent of the routine was material he didn’t perform at the previous show. He’s a road warrior with quite a bit of material to throw out there. That’s a mark of a working comedian.
Comedians do have an “act.” Many times it is an extension of their personality, a sharpened, magnified, written and performed version of their take on life. The good ones find an audience and keep them. As they stick with it and hone their craft, the fan base grows larger, comes together, the seats get filled, and the shows sell out.
Dane’s “market” seemed to be the frat/sorority crowd. I noticed they championed him the most. He embraced them and came to their stomping grounds, college campuses, to tell his jokes. His career took off like a rocket. I knew he was reaching a lot of people when I kept seeing shocker/SUFI bumper stickers everywhere I traveled. Good for him, I thought.
I lost track of Cook’s level of success and was stunned one day when I turned on Comedy Central and saw his new special being promoted. A selling point on the television spot for the special was the venue, Madison Square Garden. I thought about the first little stage that I saw him slither around on when he did his Alien bit. I knew he had been working hard, but MSG just took me by surprise. Dane Cook’s really that big? He can sell out Madison Square Garden?
“That’s kind of weak...” I said to my girlfriend. “I mean Madison Square Garden, for a stand up comedian... I don’t know.”
It was a wee bit of hate that I threw at a man who made me laugh. I ended up talking with people about the upcoming special, throwing my two cents in about the “proper” place to make a crowd laugh, you know because I’m an “expert” and all. Of course, after letting everyone know how disappointed I was with Cook and the venue, I watched the special. I laughed. I liked a lot of the jokes, and the sell out crowd at the Garden did too. He seemed like the same old Dane that made me laugh before, again and again. I dismissed my inner hater. I’m glad I let whatever that was go. It helped me steer clear of the ever-growing hater community. Out of nowhere, legions of people stood and scoffed, shooting acidy spit at the man who had once made them laugh at acidy spit. Everyone seemed to be an expert on how Dane Cook was a sellout hack.
“Never saw the morning till I stayed up all night. Never saw the sunshine till I turned out the light.” -Tom Waits
I decided to try stand up comedy back in the day. I went through the normal motions, trying to capture some funny experiences and observations, gather them up and place them on paper. I wrote that shit down, expanded on it, tweaked it, erased and revised. When I reviewed my material and watched other comedians, I realized my jokes didn’t really flow into one another. Back to the drawing board, I scrapped this, added that and worked on segues so my eventual show would naturally flow. It took me weeks to get together ten minutes worth of material. I practiced the jokes in front of a mirror with a prop mic when my parents weren’t home to fine tune my act and prep for the day I would finally be on stage in front of people. In between working and writing material, I watched tons of standup comedy, listened to a bunch in my car and went out to comedy clubs on the weekend. All of this was done to gear myself up for the big day. Side note: these were the greatest homework assignments of my life.
Through all this practice, some nightmare scenarios crept into my head. They usually entered the brain in front of the mirror when I was practicing. What if nobody laughs? What if I get stage fright? What if I freeze up? What if this material sucks? These feelings of doubt I’ve had before, many times, through many endeavors. They’ve shut me down in the past, but I refused to let them stop me this time. I waded through all the self doubt and got myself a gig. I was given ten minutes. For the ten minutes, I had to provide four friends willing to pay admission and buy a couple drinks. Forty plus showed up instead.
I hung back in the club at a table reading a cliff notes guide of the act I had scribbled down. I puffed cigarettes as the emcee warmed up the crowd. With each passing minute, my heart pounded harder and faster. Quite a battle ensued in my brain that evening as I parried thoughts of doubt and bitch slapped moments of fear. And then finally, it was time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a big round of applause for Eric Duffy,” the emcee said.
The audience applauded as I made my way toward the stage. Although I saw them physically clapping, I didn’t hear a single clap because the thought “make them laugh” was playing on repeat, over and over in my dome. The nightmare scenarios crossed my mind as I grabbed the mic and took a look at the crowd from the stage with a light blazing in my face. All the prep work -the writing, the re-writing, the practicing, the fear- came to a head. It was like the first big slope of a roller coaster. There I was on stage. This was what I wanted. One final bitch slap to that last moment of doubt. Smack. I got the first joke off and heard that first laugh, a laugh which pushed me down that slope and started the ride.
I steamrolled through my material, turning what I thought was ten minutes into seven or so. My friends, who came out to support my endeavor, laughed. Better yet, people I had never seen before laughed, too. I botched a punch line but made it through the act and said, “Thank you so much.”
I meant it, too. It was a Friday night and those friends and strangers could have done anything, but they chose to come to that comedy club and pay five bucks to see me. I made my way off stage with fear dead under my sneaker. I felt great. It was an honor to be heard and so cool that people laughed. As I walked off the stage, the emcee walked towards it. We met halfway down the room. He stopped to shake my hand.
“Good job in front of all your friends tonight,” he said.
He let go of my hand and continued towards the stage. I had worked hard for weeks, swallowed all my comfort seeking instincts, broke away from being a first class wallflower to get up there and have the opportunity to make people laugh, and they did. Those laughs were beautiful, music to my ears. The emcee had, in three seconds after leaving the stage that I had conquered, ripped my soul out and pissed all over it. It wasn’t a nice feeling. I’ll never forget the shot he took at me. Thankfully, he didn’t stop me from pursuing stand up comedy further. I ended up doing it for roughly a year.
Overall, dabbling in stand up comedy was a great experience. I had a wonderful time all but once, when a crowd was particularly brutal. I was the emcee that night and you could hear crickets farting during my routines. I sat down inbetween acts and watched the other talented comedians try to elicit laughter from the audience. We all failed. It was as if there was a brick on every seat which each patron inserted into their anus before sitting down to enjoy the show. Though the show was a “bad” one, I learned more that night than any other night I did standup. All the comedians cracked jokes about the crowd and rallied around one another before we were sent up on stage to the slaughterhouse that was that evening.
I have been humbled since my stint with standup comedy. Regardless of what I think of anyone’s particular act, I know it takes courage to stand up and try to be funny. The feelings of fear I felt minutes before I was called on stage at every show never really went away. They faded some, but were still always there hanging around in the backround. My pounding heart could only be relieved by one thing, that first laugh. My hat goes off to anyone who tries standup period.
Which leads me back to Dane Cook and the little inner hater in me, who questioned him because of an arena, an architectural structure in which he stood up. As if I’m the authoritative agency that approves where one is allowed to tell jokes. What did I end up doing with standup? Not telling jokes in front of twenty thousand people, that’s for sure. Instead, I retreated to the embryonic stage of the art form, the writing process...
Continue Reading @: Collecting Experience
By: Eric Duffy
Critical Waste
I watched the latest Dane Cook special, “Isolated Incident.” He has a bit about an e-mail he received that read, “Both of your parents got cancer and died to get away from your shitty comedy.” Laughter halted. I was stunned for a second. I wondered who in their right mind would send an e-mail like that. Dane tumbled around the brain when I rested my head that night. I remembered the first time I saw him on Comedy Central Presents. There was a lot of physical comedy. His stories made me laugh. After the viewing, I was a fan.
My sister and I went to see Dane Cook at the Rochester Institute of Technology. There was a massive line and he sold the place out. He had a completely new routine from the “Comedy Central Presents” performance. A few weeks later, back in my hometown area, he performed at Marist College. I went to see him again, thinking I’d be seeing the same act I saw in Rochester, but didn’t care too much because I enjoyed it. To my surprise, fifty percent of the routine was material he didn’t perform at the previous show. He’s a road warrior with quite a bit of material to throw out there. That’s a mark of a working comedian.
Comedians do have an “act.” Many times it is an extension of their personality, a sharpened, magnified, written and performed version of their take on life. The good ones find an audience and keep them. As they stick with it and hone their craft, the fan base grows larger, comes together, the seats get filled, and the shows sell out.
Dane’s “market” seemed to be the frat/sorority crowd. I noticed they championed him the most. He embraced them and came to their stomping grounds, college campuses, to tell his jokes. His career took off like a rocket. I knew he was reaching a lot of people when I kept seeing shocker/SUFI bumper stickers everywhere I traveled. Good for him, I thought.
I lost track of Cook’s level of success and was stunned one day when I turned on Comedy Central and saw his new special being promoted. A selling point on the television spot for the special was the venue, Madison Square Garden. I thought about the first little stage that I saw him slither around on when he did his Alien bit. I knew he had been working hard, but MSG just took me by surprise. Dane Cook’s really that big? He can sell out Madison Square Garden?
“That’s kind of weak...” I said to my girlfriend. “I mean Madison Square Garden, for a stand up comedian... I don’t know.”
It was a wee bit of hate that I threw at a man who made me laugh. I ended up talking with people about the upcoming special, throwing my two cents in about the “proper” place to make a crowd laugh, you know because I’m an “expert” and all. Of course, after letting everyone know how disappointed I was with Cook and the venue, I watched the special. I laughed. I liked a lot of the jokes, and the sell out crowd at the Garden did too. He seemed like the same old Dane that made me laugh before, again and again. I dismissed my inner hater. I’m glad I let whatever that was go. It helped me steer clear of the ever-growing hater community. Out of nowhere, legions of people stood and scoffed, shooting acidy spit at the man who had once made them laugh at acidy spit. Everyone seemed to be an expert on how Dane Cook was a sellout hack.
“Never saw the morning till I stayed up all night. Never saw the sunshine till I turned out the light.” -Tom Waits
I decided to try stand up comedy back in the day. I went through the normal motions, trying to capture some funny experiences and observations, gather them up and place them on paper. I wrote that shit down, expanded on it, tweaked it, erased and revised. When I reviewed my material and watched other comedians, I realized my jokes didn’t really flow into one another. Back to the drawing board, I scrapped this, added that and worked on segues so my eventual show would naturally flow. It took me weeks to get together ten minutes worth of material. I practiced the jokes in front of a mirror with a prop mic when my parents weren’t home to fine tune my act and prep for the day I would finally be on stage in front of people. In between working and writing material, I watched tons of standup comedy, listened to a bunch in my car and went out to comedy clubs on the weekend. All of this was done to gear myself up for the big day. Side note: these were the greatest homework assignments of my life.
Through all this practice, some nightmare scenarios crept into my head. They usually entered the brain in front of the mirror when I was practicing. What if nobody laughs? What if I get stage fright? What if I freeze up? What if this material sucks? These feelings of doubt I’ve had before, many times, through many endeavors. They’ve shut me down in the past, but I refused to let them stop me this time. I waded through all the self doubt and got myself a gig. I was given ten minutes. For the ten minutes, I had to provide four friends willing to pay admission and buy a couple drinks. Forty plus showed up instead.
I hung back in the club at a table reading a cliff notes guide of the act I had scribbled down. I puffed cigarettes as the emcee warmed up the crowd. With each passing minute, my heart pounded harder and faster. Quite a battle ensued in my brain that evening as I parried thoughts of doubt and bitch slapped moments of fear. And then finally, it was time.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a big round of applause for Eric Duffy,” the emcee said.
The audience applauded as I made my way toward the stage. Although I saw them physically clapping, I didn’t hear a single clap because the thought “make them laugh” was playing on repeat, over and over in my dome. The nightmare scenarios crossed my mind as I grabbed the mic and took a look at the crowd from the stage with a light blazing in my face. All the prep work -the writing, the re-writing, the practicing, the fear- came to a head. It was like the first big slope of a roller coaster. There I was on stage. This was what I wanted. One final bitch slap to that last moment of doubt. Smack. I got the first joke off and heard that first laugh, a laugh which pushed me down that slope and started the ride.
I steamrolled through my material, turning what I thought was ten minutes into seven or so. My friends, who came out to support my endeavor, laughed. Better yet, people I had never seen before laughed, too. I botched a punch line but made it through the act and said, “Thank you so much.”
I meant it, too. It was a Friday night and those friends and strangers could have done anything, but they chose to come to that comedy club and pay five bucks to see me. I made my way off stage with fear dead under my sneaker. I felt great. It was an honor to be heard and so cool that people laughed. As I walked off the stage, the emcee walked towards it. We met halfway down the room. He stopped to shake my hand.
“Good job in front of all your friends tonight,” he said.
He let go of my hand and continued towards the stage. I had worked hard for weeks, swallowed all my comfort seeking instincts, broke away from being a first class wallflower to get up there and have the opportunity to make people laugh, and they did. Those laughs were beautiful, music to my ears. The emcee had, in three seconds after leaving the stage that I had conquered, ripped my soul out and pissed all over it. It wasn’t a nice feeling. I’ll never forget the shot he took at me. Thankfully, he didn’t stop me from pursuing stand up comedy further. I ended up doing it for roughly a year.
Overall, dabbling in stand up comedy was a great experience. I had a wonderful time all but once, when a crowd was particularly brutal. I was the emcee that night and you could hear crickets farting during my routines. I sat down inbetween acts and watched the other talented comedians try to elicit laughter from the audience. We all failed. It was as if there was a brick on every seat which each patron inserted into their anus before sitting down to enjoy the show. Though the show was a “bad” one, I learned more that night than any other night I did standup. All the comedians cracked jokes about the crowd and rallied around one another before we were sent up on stage to the slaughterhouse that was that evening.
I have been humbled since my stint with standup comedy. Regardless of what I think of anyone’s particular act, I know it takes courage to stand up and try to be funny. The feelings of fear I felt minutes before I was called on stage at every show never really went away. They faded some, but were still always there hanging around in the backround. My pounding heart could only be relieved by one thing, that first laugh. My hat goes off to anyone who tries standup period.
Which leads me back to Dane Cook and the little inner hater in me, who questioned him because of an arena, an architectural structure in which he stood up. As if I’m the authoritative agency that approves where one is allowed to tell jokes. What did I end up doing with standup? Not telling jokes in front of twenty thousand people, that’s for sure. Instead, I retreated to the embryonic stage of the art form, the writing process...
Continue Reading @: Collecting Experience
By: Eric Duffy
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Sketchbook Post 28
Monday, August 3, 2009
Sketchbook Post 27
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