Orange Unicorn 13 – Joe Is

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We all are Joe.

If it resonated with you, share it with someone that you want to show your appreciation for!


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Colors and their Ambiguity and Contradictions

Words often fail to capture color. Their nuances, their ambiguity, fluidity all slip through the cracks of words.

Words seem to exist in an eternal state, a place of permanence. Even though their meanings change through time, within a generation or a single human’s life, that might be hard to notice or even impossible. But colors out here in the world, they flow, vibrate and change with the cycle of the sun, the seasons, and the lights we turn on and off in our houses and streets. The colors might repeat themselves in our lifetimes if only for a brief moment each time.

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Right now as I walk to the bus, there’s a play of the gold-light from the sun, that slowly rises, and the shadows in the snow. The shadows are drenched in a soft blue or purple. It’s a color with great presence, but also very subtle whispers. It almost emanates the cold I feel on my skin, but also comfort and embrace.

Soon these colors will melt as the day goes on and the sun changes its mood. Maybe around 4pm or 5pm there’ll be some similar colors again if the atmosphere doesn’t change and the clouds stay as they are. But will they be the same? Even their similarity will be different, emphasized by the different state I will find myself in, my chest carrying different humors and responses to the world.

Color is so powerful because of this fluidity and ambiguity. Color is able to contradict itself.

The deep red, purple and orange that may emerge from some sunsets. They’re beautiful, longing and contemplative. They ask of us, “Stop. Take a moment, right here, and see me.” But the colors can also feel ominous, heavy making us maybe even a bit scared — “Will the next day come for sure? Is life going to keep on going, or was this my last sunset?”

And the blue-purple of the snow, and the gold-light, right now they seem to dance and shift between cold and warm and warm and cold. The blue becomes warm for a second, comforting. Then it recedes back into the cold, pulling with it the gold. And then this golden air that so often feels like a soft embrace, becomes cold and apathetic, superior to my experiences and my need of warmth. This all happening in a fraction of a second — it’s like a coin flipping in the air, quickly shifting from one to the other.

In one single moment I feel it all because of color. This slippery characteristic of vision that eludes so many of us. No wonder so often people are most attracted to the color of a painting — even when it’s exactly because the painting lacks colors. Color breathes, flows and changes so quickly it creates in us a sense of continual rediscovery.

The Holy Virgin Probably had Body Issues

by Heather Milks

 

Christmas - Christ the Savior is Born - Poem

Wrapped in flesh, clothed in skin stinking writhing

Child-king, Man-God

Breather of the universe

 

Supernatural meets natural

Lord God in heaven,

Grandfather of the Sky

 

Breath of life, maker of truth,

Utterly, disgustingly physical

Embodied divinity

 

And hope? Hope in what?

Hope in infancy, puberty, and a man to come?

 

Holy Second of the Trinity,

Totally physical, absolutely spiritual.

 

And I? I look and wish it weren’t true.

If God would just stay up in the sky, maybe I could avoid him.

If he didn’t understand earth-pains, I could run.

The babe that haunts me.

If God can say, “yes, I know” I am caught, and forced to weep.

 

Man-God born to some kid younger than I,

The holy virgin probably had body issues.

 

Itching at foreign flaked skin,

Let me leave, let me float away.

Transcend flesh, join you up in the sky.

 

But if he didn’t, then I can’t.

He put it on, and I want out?

He’s not up there, he’s here.

 

And I strangle the needs of my being,

Spirit-body, heart-beat of a soul,

 

I don’t even like babies.

Universal bandaid, one-size-fits-all.

Jesus the Nazarene,

Savior of the Universe

Solution of Man,

Sacred on Earth.

Christ the Savior is Born.

 

 


 

So I haven’t ever tried this. But I wanted to collaborate with someone for a Christmas post. Christmas is a very complicated Holiday for me, with all the gifts, consumerism, and masked smiles all put up against this beautiful, yet very simple moment of birth. Like, birth is such a human, down to the earth moment. Blood, tears, screams and pain. I don’t know, most of the time I just feel weird about Christmas – how am I supposed to engage it?

So I asked my friend Heather Milks to write something, something honest, sincere, questioning to which I could respond with an image of my own. Talking with her I feel that where she’s at in her own faith is a very similar place to my own, and I was really happy when she said “Yes!” So here’s the final result. I hope you like it as much as I did and that maybe it helps you to see afresh the birth of Christ.


 

You can check out Heather’s blog here. Where she talks about stuff, like her faith and religion and life. 

Your support means a lot to me: it helps me keep going. So if you’d like to stay updated with the webcomic make sure to follow the blog – button is off to the side!

You can also follow my Facebook Art page, Instagram (@jandrewgilbert), and Twitter (@jandrewgil), for updates.

What Made Me Cry This Week – Yoga

So, usually I stick to books and movies recommendations. But, who cares about consistency? Plus, it still fits with this section’s title.

Today I cried because of yoga. Ok. I didn’t exactly cry, but I cried the way I cry when I watch movies: my lips quivered, I swallowed, and my eyes filled up. I made it go away so no one would see me cry. My eyes filled up like twice.

It’s hard to explain why.

Ever since the end of Thanksgiving I had been feeling this constant emptiness. Like there was something off. I was having a hard time finding energy to do my projects – school related or even personal ones. I did yoga on Monday, but it didn’t solve it. It all still felt heavy. I don’t think I breathed enough during that one.

Tuesday, I felt even worse than the day before. It felt like the day was never going to end, and I just had to live with myself. I wanted to get out of me, but, as with most of us, I was stuck inside.

Then today (Wednesday) came, and I just felt “meh.” I went to work and it was meh. I went to class and it was meh. And everything was meh. Then I did yoga.

It was the normal. Stretching, flexing, holding. Breathing. Trying to smile in painful positions. Then, at the end, we had “shavasana.” Which is basically lying there, resting, breathing. Letting everything flow – meditation.

As I breathed, I could just feel like my whole body was there. Everything was real and it just made me smile that I was alive. Then I felt like crying because it just felt like such a good happiness. A subtle one. A happiness made of breath, of presence. A happiness made of words like “I’m alive.”

 


Originally written last week Wednesday.

 

Be sure to check Orange Unicorn’s last update.

Or jump back to the last What Made Me Cry This Week.

Your support means a lot to me: it helps me keep trying. If you’d like to stay updated make sure to follow the blog – there’s a button off to the side!

You can also follow my Facebook Art page, Instagram (@jandrewgilbert), and Twitter (@jandrewgil), for updates.

So. This is unedited.

Some days I just want to write down thoughts, and hope that the world cares. So, here we go. Unedited thoughts of a wanna be artist on a Tuesday morning to keep you entertained.

Because who hasn’t tried? Who hasn’t put their foot forward and tried? To relax, to chill, under the window sill, looking out into the fields of grey air and yellow sky.

So I walked, out into the fields of knowledge and emptiness. Listening to the Taylor Swift that was bashed by many, just because she did something? She did something that I can’t quite know what it is, because no one quite explains it, because no one quite understands it themselves do they?

It’s like the formless grey air in the morning. Sure, scientists can probably tell you it’s a combination of humidity and temperature levels creating this air we call fog. But really, that explains it? Is it not for the clouded of mind that fog happens? So that environment reflects soul? Is fog not for the soothing effects on the soul? For the beauty of breath? And is it not beautiful? Can you please tell me why it is so? I’d like to know, so I can recreate it in a painting, in a poem or in a phrase. Grey air made by an artist.

I also wanted to tell you this:

Give yourself some love. Call yourself sexy and then do a chicken dance. The fog will hide you away in its embrace.

Orange Unicorn – Breaaaaaathe 03

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I’ve been needing presence of mind. With the first week of classes of my junior year under my belt, all I wanted this past week was rest and to be present. To learn as much as I can, but also to enjoy it, and find pleasure in the small things. This is also how I survived my freshman year.


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Your support means a lot to me: it helps me keep going. Going. Going. So if you’d like to stay updated with the webcomic make sure to follow the blog!

You can also follow my Facebook Art page, Instagram (@jandrewgilbert), or Twitter (@jandrewgil), for updates.