To the Naysayers and their Receptionists

Ben Zschunke and Rob Sterling, Inertia, 2009,
Tempera on canvas using a swinging brush.

As a human being living on this planet, floating throughout the vast cosmos, I somehow urge myself to be good, just, and virtuous using the unknown spiritual force that I may or may not possess within me. And sometimes rejection rears it's ugly face to turn me in other directions. But I must persist.


I dream sometimes. A year ago I dreamed of myself swinging from a giant horse hair rope in a gym over a canvas. The bottom of the rope drips with acrylic paint - thick blacks, blood reds, and gentle blues. And I swing to and fro pushing the paints across the canvas floor. The setup shown above represents a small scale realization of this idea.


I grabbed my paint brush in one hand and my friend, Rob Sterling, in the other. We squeezed color from tubes. We mixed them. We painted. I know some people in this world remind me to dig deeper into the art I make or see. And they know who they are. However, a brush, some color, a rope, a rod, and a Batman action figure made this piece alongside gravity and chance. How can anyone critique some of the most powerful natural forces? - "I'm sorry but gravity and chance did not perform well today." Ridiculous and absurd.

What does the future hold for art history?:
I bet this whole idea of art in my head will die. Everything I learned in art history will flee from my mind due to an ever changing concept of self. Constantly rebuilding itself. And finding a place for my art in the time line of the universe will be difficult, but I must try. Even if it's equivalent to a rat's hole in the wall of an old abandoned mansion where the foundation tilts with a gentle sadness. Or perhaps it's a place more like a blade of grass in a field, lost in a sea where billions of other blades die everyday without Earth shedding a single tear of sorrow.

So what happens now?
Currently, I find myself asking this question every minute of the day. And I always end in the same place. I'll just keep doing what I love doing, and that's shooting movies. As long as I have a passion than I see no reason for me to stop. Even if I die trying. Does it matter though? Yes. My love for filmmaking reaches farther than any realm known to mankind. And to succeed after rejection feels as good as revenge. So, be ready all you naysayers, your receptionists will have my name in "The Book of the Good, Just, and Virtuous".