I just really like what she's doing :)

   I was given the task of interviewing someone in the School of Art that I'm really enjoying. I picked Lucy Carey, a good friend and someone I really admire. She is very calculated, but her works after usually focused on the more natural aspects of life. Her work is grounded in nature and most often depicts the sky. I really love the juxtaposition of her meticulous process and more ethereal subject matter.


What do you hope to do with your degree? Grad school, a specific job?

1. I have no immediate plans to go to grad school. It's not out of the question for the future, though. I would like to go together with a few fellow artists and get a studio space with a small gallery/store area in the front to display and sell our work. I'm imagining a storefront on a city block with the store in front, a nice studio in the back, and an apartment above to live. This would be perfect for me, because I want to work for myself, or at least with people I know well and trust.

Who are your favorite artists?
2. I love Alphonse Mucha. I was first drawn to his female personifications ofparts of nature, such as the moon and stars and the seasons. Nature plays a huge role in my work, and he portrays it in an interesting, beautiful way. I also like Amy Ho. She incorporates images of nature in cool installations. I love her piece Skylight, where she projects an image of the sky onto the roof of a subway tunnel. Gerhard Richter does wonderful work, too.

 What first got you into art?
3. Art was always one of my favorite classes in school, and I have been drawing since I could first hold a crayon. But I really started taking art more seriously after getting excited about the anime Sailor Moon, around 6th grade. I was obsessed with it. I would constantly draw the characters and write my own stories for it. That led to my own original stories and characters and eventually expanded into what I do today.
 

 Who are your least favorite artists?
4. There aren't a lot of artists I completely hate. I try to find at least about them or their work that I can appreciate. For example, there's Milton Avery. He uses nature for his imagery, but he abstracts it in such a way that it it looks like simple planes of color. I enjoy abstraction, but not as he does it. That said, I can appreciate his approach to color. He prefers to let color be the dominant force within his work. What look like solid shapes of colors in his paintings are actually many similar colors that the eye blends together from a distance. This is very interesting and something I would like to explore.

Is there anything you dislike about being an artist?
5. I have a love/hate relationship with enjoying many different kinds of art. I practice several kind of printmaking, oil painting, digital and film photography, digital painting and animation... On one hand, I have lots of different experiences to draw from; each medium can provide a bit of insight into the other. On the other hand, exploring all of these media at once makes me a bit of the classic "Jack of all trades, master of none". Not to mention the money spent on basic supplies for all of these media.

Vastly Different Spaces

    In an earlier post I spoke about visiting Prairie for the opening of "Forms of Authority", and I was just today at the Reed Gallery, located inside The College of Design, Architecture, Art and Planning (DAAP).

 Outside view of The Reed Gallery

   The Dorothy W. and C. Lawson Reed Jr. Gallery hosts exhibitions that focus on the fields of study associated with the College of DAAP, with emphasis on current work in those disciplines brought in from outside the college to enrich the exposure of students to work produced elsewhere. It is a very clean and organized space.

   Like Prairie, the walls are white and kept very neat. However, the floor at this location is a nice polished wood finish. The Reed Gallery seemed more put together, and very formal. It seemed like a small piece of a museum stuck into a school building.

  Currently The Reed Gallery is being set up for the student Dry Run showing, which acts as a dress rehearsal for DAAP Works in June. 

An Image from the student Dry Run showing 

   I did enjoy the more informal atmosphere of Prairie. The floors and small size of the space give it a more casual feel. A narrow flight of stairs leads to the second floor, which is separated into two main areas by a crisp white zigzag wall that stops a couple of feet short of the ceiling. Long windows overlooking the street are unobstructed. Darkroom and photo lab are at the rear.The whole space is very streamlined.

    “It suggests opportunity, openness, the United States,” says David Rosenthal. “I think the arts crack society’s barriers. They voice social issues and break out of convention.”

   I have recently learned that the gallery owner, David Rosenthal, splits his time between the gallery space and his community outreach programs. He works tirelessly on giving art to the masses. He transports what is essentially a portable photo lab with him to different schools in the Cincinnati Area. His gallery space is second to his humanitarian work, and for some strange reason I appreciate the simpleness of Prairie more after knowing those facts. 

"Cake Sprinkles" by Caren Alpert, shown at Prairie Gallery

   "I spend 15% of my time in the gallery. The majority is spent on my work bringing art to students who would have no other way of getting it." - David Rosenthal.

And now for some Batman propaganda:

I recently googled: "What do you call a person obsessed with Batman?"

Google Answer: The Riddler. 

    Well considering I'm not The Riddler, I have decided to try to figure out what the art and writing of the Batman comic series is one that I find interesting. 

    Over the years Batman has had many different writers and teams of artists. Batman is a fictional character, a comic book superhero created by artist Bob Kane and writer Bill Finger. The character first appeared in Detective Comics #27 (May 1939), and since then has appeared primarily in publications by DC Comics. Originally referred to as "The Bat-Man" and still referred to at times as "The Batman", he is additionally known as "The Caped Crusader".

    Batman became a very popular character soon after his introduction and gained his own comic book title, Batman, in 1940. As the decades wore on, differing interpretations of the character emerged. The late 1960s Batman television series used a camp aesthetic which continued to be associated with the character for years after the show ended. 

     Various creators worked to return the character to his dark roots, culminating in the 1986 miniseries The Dark Knight Returns, by Frank Miller, while the successes of Tim Burton's 1989 film Batman and Christopher Nolan's 2005 reboot Batman Begins also helped to reignite popular interest in the character. A cultural icon, Batman has been licensed and adapted into a variety of media, from radio to television and film, and appears on a variety of merchandise sold all over the world such as toys and video games. The character has also intrigued psychiatrists with many trying to understand the character's psyche and his true ego in society. 

      In May 2011, Batman placed second on IGN's Top 100 Comic Book Heroes of All Time, after Superman. Empire magazine also listed him second in their 50 Greatest Comic Book Characters of All Time.

 

 Released just yesterday: 

   Batman and Robin #6

Batman sure has come a long way from this:

 

Sfeer Theory Comic

I've been crazy obsessed with this web-comic recently.  I really like the story line. It is set in a fictional fantastic world, and usually I tend to stay away from anything that falls into the realm of fantasy. However, there is enough explained that can ground me in the reality of the world. Everything seems to have its place within the world and it all seems carefully though out.

So, needless to say I enjoyed what is posted of it so far. I also really like the style, the exaggerated facial features, mixed with the sharpness of the clothing, which I might add is impeccability drawn.

"Luca Valentino" Art by Jayd Aït-Kaci

It has been on a extended hiatus for a while, but thanks to the magic that is kick starter, a website that helps artistic ventures appeal for money to a larger demographic outside of the small populations that know it actually exists, Sfeer Theory will be back up and running WITH A PRINTED BOOK COMING SOON!!!!!!I can hardly contain my excitement.

 First Page of Uitspan Era

Check it out here: http://sfeertheory.littlefoolery.com/

Gallery Visit

I was recently at Prairie Gallery for the opening of Forms of Authority. After hiking up the steps to the gallery, which is located on the second story of a small building in Northside, you reach Prairie. Prairie is fairly simple in presentation. White walls, unfinished wood flooring. The place was full of people that I felt that I should know. I saw a few professors that I know through school, but most of the people seemed to be wealthy wasps...And since I do not fall into either of those categories it was very interesting to listen in to their conversations. Many of which were about how conceptual the works were. However, none of them ever said why...

 A piece by Hanry Navarro

On display were three artists, Hanry Navarro, Stewart Goldman and Joseph Winterhalter. Each artist worked to explore the contemporary institution through painting and drawing.

 # 26 by Joseph Winterhalter

"Together they explore the tension between natural forms and processes and the increasing complexity and power of contemporary social institutions, said gallery owner David Rosenthal.

I felt strongly that two of the artists really fit into the theme of the show. Both the works of Navarro and Winterhalter reflected a strange look into the idea of the institution.However, Goldman's works seemed to reflect more of the natural world. The images looked more like landscapes, rather than something to do with modernization. Unless the piece was trying to come off as a stark contrast to the others in the space. Yet, I think that the artists should have tried more to work together to really make the theme present. Overall, I liked the show, but I did leave feeling a bit confused.

A collective image of Winterhalter's works

Excitment in the Distance

    I had my internship interview today at Prairie Gallery in Northside, which is one of the many neighborhoods here in Cincinnati. I was really excited to learn that Prairie had interns, mostly because of the community outreach programs ran by the gallery's owner, David Rosenthal. He devotes a large portion of his time to bringing art to students at local high schools, many of which wouldn't have any exposure to art otherwise.He organizes and brings, what is essentially a mini photo lab to each of the schools that he works with. He also creates specialized programs to interest the group of students that he works with.
 

   This is an image from Prairie's current showing, "Forms of Authority"

 
      I will be interning with David at Lighthouse Community School. Lighthouse Community School (LCS) specializes in highly individualized, flexible, and intensive strategies to meet the educational needs of youth in the child welfare system.  LCS effectively deals with social and emotional barriers. David is currently working with local musicians who will be the subject matter for the students enrolled in his photography course.  I really think I'm going to enjoy the internship opportunity.

Some Old Photos

   While trying to put together a portfolio for graduate school, I unearthed some of my old photographs from the time I broke into the old Crosley Radio Building. The space is large and empty. Personally, I'd like to see it renovated into either apartments or studio spaces. It would be a great place due to all the windows and it has a small parking lot. There were plans in 2009 to renovate the building. However, the project seems to have fallen through.I still find it beautiful in it's raw state, but part of me hopes that one day it will be transformed into something more...functional, for lack of a better word.

                                                                     
                                                      "They've Been Here" - Digital Photograph

"Home"

"Yearn"

Take a Look, It's in a Book: Part 1

   I just realized that I've posted about a few art examples of things that inspire me, but I've never posted about some writers that really inspire me. So here is the first of my posts on the top five books that I pull inspiring bits from, on a daily basis.

Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood

      Just a short summary:

        

     The novel is set in a dystopian future. The world has been destroyed by something...we later learn what the something was and let me just put it out there that it was an amazing climax and I was very impressed with Atwood's technique. But back to the summary: Everyone is gone, leaving only Snowman, our protagonist, and a strange group of human-like beings, referred to as Crakers, alive. As readers, we follow the story of Snowman, who acts as a guardian to the Crakers, he reason for this we learn through the novel's use of Switchback Time. 

      The technique of Switchback Time is actually a term coined by Joan Silber in her book, "The Art of Time in Fiction." It is a process in which a writer develops two separate timelines in a story. One is set in the past, and the other is our current narrative. And as the name suggests, the writer will switch back and forth between the two. Usually, this is employed to create novels that have a certain level of mystery to them. The reason for this is the amount of significance that each timeline holds for the story. The timeline that takes place in the past will usually give the reader insight as to why things have progressed the way they have. However, the past timeline holds its own weight. It normally is a separate story from the current narrative. Yet, the two stories could not exist without each other. They balance the weight given to present and past to build up to a climax at which the timelines meet. At that point the story will finish in the current narrative, and the novel will end.

      Oryx and Crake was a great read, and like the cliche is too often said, "I could not put it down." But Seriously!!!! Atwood's characterization is astounding. I could really feel the deep anguish of Snowman, and seeing is development through his childhood to now was what made the book some much more powerful than if everything would have just been a flashback. His relationships with his father and his mother are very insightful. I also enjoyed seeing how Atwood views future society and their relationships with technology. It sort of morphs into a sick, strange way of living that is very frightening when we step back for a minute to reflect. 

        I plan on employing the technique of Switchback Time in my writing soon. Be on the look out!

Another Writing Sample

 Here's another sample of my writing, enjoy!

It snowed the night before my Uncle Nicolai was released from prison. I had gotten up early that morning, and ran around the front yard for an hour before joining my mother on her walk to the grocery store. The stores in Brighton Beach were crawling with scarved babushka women on their emergency shopping trips after the first snow of the year. I danced around them, retrieving things for my mother as she steered our cart through the mass of people. The other boys my age did the same weaving dance, it was a strange tradition of modern day hunting and gathering.

  We were walking home, when my father’s green station wagon pulled up into our driveway. He was dressed nice, going to work nice. He never worked on Sundays. The passenger door opened, revealing another man in the car. He exited, standing to an impressively tall full height. That was when I saw Uncle Nic for the first time.

Tall and weedy, blonde and pale, he was a stranger with a face similar to my father’s. Broad grey eyes, hooded, wide and searching, until they settled on me and mother. He was bundled up tight in one of my father’s coats, with my mother’s scarf wrapped around his neck; he waited at the end of the drive with a battered blue suitcase…my old suitcase.  He smiled and waved a gloved hand at us…I bet they weren’t his gloves.

“He’s wearing the scarf I got you for Christmas.” I grabbed her hand defensively as we got closer. “And he has my suitcase!”

“It’s okay, Gannon.”

“Did he take it from you?”

“No.”

He helped us carry in the groceries, setting each item on the blue Formica countertop in little rows. I watched him pick at the plastic packaging of the cheese and frowned as his longer fingers poked and prodded other things.

“Who is he?”

Mother sighed and put the milk away. “Your uncle.”

“Oh…Dad has family?”

“Unfortunately.”

---------------------

His second night with us, my parents moved Uncle Nic into my room, and by the fourth week he was in there, I had started to refer to it as his room. He barely fit on my bed. His ankles hung over the edge. So he usually curled into a tight ball under my cowboy rodeo covers. His belongings were scattered all over the blue, shag carpet. Everything he owned had once fit into my little, carry-all suitcase. However, I found myself marveling at the amount of stuff he pulled out of it each day, adding to the growing piles of garbage; more and more random knick knacks and letters.

After the fifth week, I knew I was never getting my room back, and I settled into what had once been father’s home office. I missed my room, but would never tell him that. Weeks six and seven consisted of father moving my dresser and other miscellaneous items into my new room.

On a Tuesday, Uncle Nic stood in the doorway to my makeshift bedroom, arm pushed up against the fake wood panel frame. “Sorry for kicking you out of your room, Kiddo.”

His voice in English was different that I made-up in my head, and that was possibly because I’d never heard him speak any language but Russian until now.  “It’s fine.”

“Well…ummm…thank you.”

He was more awkward that I imagined him being, and I felt strangely in love with him.

Artist's Statement

In the last four years of education, I have begun an introspective approach to creating artwork. Prior to my self-examination, my work was mostly obtuse and directed by some sort of requirement for a specific class. I soon realized that my art meant more to me than a grade. So, I began to create my own projects to take steps toward doing art that mattered deeply to me. 

Currently, I have taken the time to focus on my childhood. It has always been my opinion that children are much closer to themselves and their emotions than adults are. Childhood innocence is a wonderful concept. However, as children grow into adolescence and adulthood, they lose that true sense of self. As we age, our emotions and thoughts begin to slip into a more even state of awareness. However, I miss the sensation of being in tune with myself.  

I am not exactly sure when I lost the freedom of childlike feeling, and when it transformed into a strange coldness of adulthood. However, I have come to the point where I have realized that the feeling is gone and that I want it back. My art lacks an element of whimsy that could possibly push my conceptual work to a new level. Therefore, my most recent creations have been an experiment into the idea of fighting to reclaim something I have lost, my childhood innocence.

Most of my introspective works are in the form of printmedia. My printmaking process started as an experiment. I was looking for a new method to create, and produce work at a rapid pace. I had previously worked with Lithographs, and had enjoyed the work I had created with photo plates. However, I wanted to learn other techniques. I then moved to Intaglio printing and found the result rewarding, but the process very complex. I recently was watching a demonstration on the technique of silkscreen printmaking, and was greatly fascinated by the speed of the process. The idea of multiples, and having a series of works was a very interesting concept. Therefore, I have begun the transition to creating most of my work through silkscreen.

 I have begun using different materials in my printmaking work to capture the youthfulness I desire. In my “Eat Me” series of images, I used different packaged cereals, that I remember eating as a child, to create patterns for silkscreen exposures. I created simple patterns using the simple cereal polygons to mimic childlike fabrics. I plan to expand to other foods, simply because of the senses attached to food; smell, taste, touch. The senses open the possibility of creating something that examines the viewer artwork relationship.

To date, I am still searching, with no exact way of retrieving anything from my past. Yet, I would like to continue this exploration. I want to utilize silkscreen processes with other media. I’d like to combine my printing with photography, creative writing, collage and digital image composition to create more quirky work that relates more to my personality.  However, I would like to study more about child psychology and relate my findings to my artwork. I want to remain focused on reclaiming youth and finding the point at which our feelings become buried within ourselves.

Eat Me

I’ve decided to upload some of my more recent printmaking work. I have been working larger after so good advice from my professor.  I have also shifted to a more scientific conceptual mesh when it comes to subject matter. It’s more of a trick or sleight of hand, while my images look like bacteria cultures or microbes, they are actually breakfast cereal. Without their signature colors, and organized in little clusters, they take on a new form that is very clinical in nature. 

 I'm really enjoying the circle shape. It reminds me of the cereal bowl without being too literal. I'm actually enjoying my art for once, and it's pretty refreshing.

In the Event of an Art Crisis

1.  Step away from your work. 
2. Just do it.
3. Watch this video.
4. Then repeat after me: "I do not suck at art. Practice makes perfect. Keep going."
5. Have some hot chocolate.
6. Try again tomorrow.

More Writing

I guess I'm just going to post a bunch of these now that I've started...But here is another, in no linear order, sorry guys.

This restaurant sucks more than I remember, but you insisted we meet here. I didn’t like this place then, and I still don’t like it now. It’s near the old hostel you crashed at when one of your flights brought you into town. It was convenient, like so many other things. I never had the chance to tell you that I hated it, and I didn’t think it would be right to spring on you now. There’s just something about this place. Possibly, it’s the ugly brown striped walls or the menu with the cartoon clown chef on the front. Or maybe it’s just the name: Mario’s.

This restaurant isn’t even Italian.

You finally arrive, and the guilty feelings dampen my mood. I was now beyond simple agitation. Everything had transformed into absolute disgust. You carry a cane, and not for looks. I loathe the way you lean greatly on the engraved metal handle. Your once confident strut is now a skewed gait. Your left knee is encased in a tight brace. It’s only temporary, but I still find myself judging the way you hobble into the restaurant. You shouldn’t have let him drive you around in his fancy, jackass mobile.

It’s all his fault. He ruins everything.

I refuse to rise when you make it to the table, but I greet you with a soft hello, in the whispery tone of my voice that you claimed to like the most. You had once called it my sultry voice. We sit in thick silence as you glance at the menu. My patience is already thinning.

Just decide already.

The air is congested with scents. I know yours, instinctively; something that makes you uniquely David. Yet, something seems different. You smell unfamiliar. I can only guess it’s what he smells like, and it lingers about you as you pause to examine the menu. You always get the same thing: French onion soup and a small house salad. Yet, you continue to glare at the menu as if it has decided to change, without you knowing, in the last few years.

No decision.

Instead of picking your food, you ask how I’ve been doing. I want to tell you I lost my old job, and couch surfed for almost a year. I want to say that I’ve wound up working at one of those seedy clubs down on Gibbons Avenue. I’ve partied, I’ve had too much to drink far too often for me to admit, even as a casual joke. I’ve met so many random guys on the dance floor, only to follow each one into a secluded dark corner. I’ve needed somebody, anybody, and I didn't care who he was. Sex isn’t what it used to be.

 However, I choose not to bore you with all the details of where I went or whom I did. I’ve simply been around, and that is enough information for you. You already know the truth, and don’t care for the details. You claim to know how it is when you're young.

We’re the same age.

Honestly, I’m just here to visit because I feel obligated since the accident. Still, you’re just pleased I’m even sitting here. I accepted your invitation, so in your mind that means that all must well between us.

The conversation is broken and awkward, and occasionally, there are thinly veiled insults geared towards my dislike of your new boyfriend. Any charm you might have once had seemed lost on me as I sat there coldly. Your eyes flutter closed as you recant everything to me. Bits and pieces of the last two years flood out onto the table and puddle between us. You’re still a flight attendant.

----------------

“Welcome to Iberia Airlines!” You chirped happily with the other flight attendants. Smiling at each passenger, while half shouting in your singsong voice over the crowd, you had my attention.

I wanted you to know you. There was as strange sensation I felt as I looked at you. A quiet sort of authority radiated from you. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that you knew it was the only thought currently going through my mind as I approached the spot in which you waited. My eyes kept flicking in your direction. I’m sure you could see the subtle signs of nervousness setting in with each step closer.

“Welcome, Miss.”

“Thank you.”  

“Enjoy the flight.”

Yeah whatever…

I loaded my carry on into the overhead storage and sank into my aisle seat. It had been over a month at my new internship and I was just ready to head home. Your fellow attendants went through their pre-flight show and tell dance. I could see you from my seat. You stood in the back talking with one of your other coworkers.

When we finally began taxiing for takeoff, you sit. The lights were dimmed, but I knew where you were. You were sitting next to another man, in your little flight attendant nook. You were strapped in, the grey bands of your seat belt crisscrossing navy of your uniform and shocking red tie. Your heavy lidded eyes closed as we took off; thick lashes cast slight shadows on your face as you unconsciously leaned forward during the ascent. Perfection.

 Stop staring.

Fragmented Memories Series

  As promised, I've finally gotten the time to upload my first round of silkscreen prints from my Advanced Printmaking class. I've been calling this collection of images "Fragmented Memories" a lot recently. I think the name stems from my lack of childhood memories. All I have are fractured little bits and pieces of some larger picture.

"Food for Thought"

Silkscreen Print

   I've been inspired by the colors of foods that I used to eat as a child. I don't have many memories of my childhood, but food seems to stick out for some reason. I remember vivid colors and tastes of things I used to love.

"Scan I"

Silkscreen Print

"Scan II" 

Silkscreen Print

   These two images are more of what I imagine the thought process to be. Almost like brain scans of how the nervous system works. Little collections of firing nerves when asked to recall a certain memory. I've been considering the idea of contacting a Neuralogist at University Hospital to learn more about how the brain and memory process works. 

   But for now, I'm so happy that my screen worked on the first try. Now, upwards and onwards into the future.

The Art of Eileen McConkey

I attended the Final Friday event at the Pendleton Art Center recently, and was really interested by Eileen’s work. Ms. McConkey creates very colorful abstractions that seem to have fallen out of the night sky. Her images usually consist of swirling, undulating colors that seem to vibrate when you look at them.They are very awe inspiring.

"Tempted By The Light"

Acrylic on Canvas 

     The above painting is one from her website that I really am drawn to. The almost tactile nature of the red paint really makes the eye move around the image. It reminds of of some sort of grand celestial wave with long reaching tentacles. I also really love the color modulation from the dark of the bottom left corner, the maroon-ish color, to the blood read of the sweeping line. It really is a piece of art that you can get lost in for a while.

"Stellar Crown"

Acrylic on Canvas

   Another piece that I really enjoy is the one pictured above. The color seems to grow and contract if you look at it for an extended period of time. The dark corners create an almost vignette quality, making a frame for the center of image. There is such a range of colors present in the work that it really is a very interesting study. They all work so well together in my opinion.

"Energy In Motion"

Acrylic on Canvas

   I was drawn to the shape of this one. The simple turning of a square canvas creates a dynamic image. The overall neutral colors make the eye pay close attention to the brush stokes and sweeping motions. However, the colors are not forgotten. There are so many different shades and tints of brown. Green brown, red brown, earthen brown...too many browns to count.

  Eileen McConkey is a true color master. Her paint application is simply amazing and is really inspiring. I am in no way painter like see is, but I'd like to see something like this captured in the natural world in a photograph. She works in such a different way than I do. However, I can really study her colors to become a better printer. I wish I could mix colors like her...and maybe with practice I could, but for now I will simply sit back and stare up into her ethereal works of art.

  You can see more of her work at:  http://www.eileenmcconkey.com/home.html
  And also check out her blog: http://eileenmcconkeyartist.blogspot.com/

Something I like to Think I'm Good at

    I really love to write; creatively that is. I've been working on  a creative writing certificate through my university, and as I've been considering which graduate schools to apply for, I've also been looking into their creative writing programs.

    I wanted to post a little sample of my writings, and more will come in the future. However, for now, this is it:

These are some characters I've been fleshing out. so I wanted to do a quick scene with them.

“Your father should have given you a power name.”

He was talking loud, but I was only half listening to him as I pressed the phone closer to my ear. The plastic blue earpiece sat awkwardly on my skin; it stuck to me with a faint wetness that reminded me that numerous other people had used it before me. It was sticky. It was disgusting. However, I held it close to. It was my only lifeline to him.

The Plexiglas that separated me from Uncle Nic was cracked, and covered in blurry grease marks that resembled fingerprints. They marred his face, and it made me uneasy even though nothing was truly different about him. I wanted to clean it; I wanted to see him better. I wanted him to be the same. My fingers ran down the length on the metal wire that disappeared into a hole drilled into the concrete wall. Everything was cold and sterile, even the metal folding chair I sat in, my legs gawkily gathered into the seat, close to my body. He had laughed in the past when I curled up like this, but now he wasn’t laughing. He was just happy to see me.

“Don’t get me wrong, Gannon. He gave you a nice name, but if you were my boy, you would have been named more carefully.” Gannon was my grandfather’s name, and picking it was a cop out, Uncle Nic had once said. My father lacked imagination.

When I told him that I had been accepted into one of the colleges I applied to, his eyes lit up more than my father’s had. “Which one?”

“Columbia…”

“That’s great!”

I nodded and pressed the phone closer, the plastic now biting deep into my skin as I waited to hear my uncle speak again. He smiled wide, and nodded approvingly as he leaned closer to the glass, holding the phone loosely in his left hand. I knew what was coming next.

“What did your father say?”

“Nothing.”

He looked confused, but the smile remained. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

After that, we sat in silence. Uncle Nic looked serious for once, and I could feel him studying me as my fingers tightened around the phone just waiting. His smile was gone and his gray eyes scanned my face. I could feel my heart beating. I wanted to say something, but I just listened.

“If you were my son, I would have named you Dmitri. Dmitri Vargas is a power name.”

“I like it.”

 His smile returned. “That’s because it’s a power name.”