Whoa. I'm getting serious or something.Re: Arts Funding

From: joeyostrander@gmail.com
Subject: Re: Economic Recovery Package Must Include Arts
Date: March 27, 2009 4:59:08 PM GMT-04:00
To: senator@stabenow.senate.gov

Really!?!

Thanks, for the cookie cutter response. It makes me feel like you really care. No response at all could have made me feel less neglected.

I fail to see how any of your attached email relates to continued annual loss of support for Art.

American Culture and Art are dying, Senator Stabenow, particularly in Michigan. The only self-sustaining visual art form in our country any longer is filmmaking. We cannot rely solely on a consumer public, nor especially on a capitalist economy to revive us. Sustenance for Art has always needed support from government.

Today is little different from days when men painted Roman chapels, or carved the physiques of great leaders from stone, from days when photographers documented for and future playwrights were employed by Roosevelt's WPA. Grecian sculptors, Michaelangelo, Dorothea Lange, Arthur Miller, each were supported and funded by their governments. Without such state-sponsored efforts, these historic artists could not have achieved such historic works.

American government has begun to decreasingly offer financial aid toward our Art education, production, and appreciation. The NEA has grown progressively weaker, more overlooked, and grossly underfunded relative to the evolution of the rest of our economy. A continued neglect of Art in America's future will foster the bankruptcy of our culture, and likewise the morale of our society.

This is not an argument. This is a warning, of inevitability.

Joey Ostrander
Photographer & Filmmaker
SE Michigan



On Mar 27, 2009, at 1:27 PM, Senator Debbie Stabenow wrote:

Joseph Ostrander
413 Ballard St, Apartment 1
Ypsilanti, MI 48197

Thank you ...

... for contacting me to express your concerns about the economic recovery plan recently passed by Congress. I supported this legislation because ... (click for full letter) ...

... ... [ blah , blah , senate intern , or computer drone , sent this ] ... ...

... Thank you again for contacting me. As always, please continue to keep me informed about issues of concern to you and your family.

Sincerely,
Debbie Stabenow
United States Senator

funding for the arts is under-estimated

The senate adopted an amendment to the current stimulus bill that effectively restricts any stimulus money for the arts, most specifically $50 million for the NEA.

"This amendment would mandate that no stimulus funding be used for 'any casino or other gambling establishment, aquarium, zoo, golf course, swimming pool, stadium, community park, museum, theater, art center, and highway beautification project'”
(senatus.wordpress.com)

but Toby Ziegler and I, feel differently about availability of funding for the arts.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vA1hCogpHnk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zy1DClkECF4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZHr1o0Mnn0

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_gE-XqsGpP0

Santa Monica Pier Blue Linescape

... mmm...

Michigan Film Tax Incentive Endangered

Over the past couple days I've drafted a statement opposing a Michigan Senate Bill 1535 that would put a constricting cap on Michigan's current film tax incentive.

The cap would limit the state's support of the film/arts industry, turn away production companies from outside Michigan, and eliminate jobs.

I've attached the statement here
-- http://JoeyOstrander.googlepages.com/StAgFilmIncentCap.pdf --

Please feel free (i.e. compelled) to read, and call your Senator to tell them to vote against SB 1535.

i feel good about helping

tonight an old woman almost passed out on my front steps trying to carry a box of penny banks half way across downtown Ypsi to a coffee shop.

i helped her carry that change - it was heavy - and we had a nice little discussion about our optimism on our country turning around after the upcoming election. (Go Blue)

i dropped her and her change off at the coffee shop where the late night waitress graciously began to count here pennies for her, and serve her a fresh tasty cup o' ... joe.

hurray, Robin Hood.
*cheerful sigh*

"Bilal's Stand" Trailer One

This film premieres at the Michigan Theatre in April.
I helped make it.
Providing the light including the sun. (among other things)



It will be stellar.

If i ruled the world,

I would decree sundaes be eaten on Sunday,

dressing up would be encouraged,

driving cars would be discouraged,

more movies and music and theatre and art would be produced,

everyone would plant at least one tree every year,

the world would be more colorful,

people would smile at strangers when they pass on the street,

and leaving the bathroom without washing your hands would be criminal.

The People in This Neighborhood

I ride the bus home from work. I also ride the bus to work, but that's another story.

Yesterday as I stood waiting at the Arborland Mall bus stop to catch my second bus, A few people came and gathered there with me. One of these people was an pepper-haired older woman in a purple ski coat and baseball cap. She sat on the bench near me, laid her bags on the ground, and took a sip of her steaming beverage. "How are you?" she asked me.

So I replied, "I'm alright, thanks.... A little cold though."

"Get yourself a free sample coffee at Starbuck's. There a good company. I've been dealing with them for years. There's another one down there by, uh, Golfside."

"Yes, they're everywhere."

(brief pause... ever so brief)

"Yep, you never lose with them, good company." She continues, "I came down here today, to the mall here to check out these shops. I told myself I'd go to all of them, but I only made it to three. I should've told myself I'd come down here and get to as many as I could, then I wouldn't have to be disappointed, miss out."

(ever so brief)

"I stopped over at Michael's to see what they have. They have some good deals there. Some things for 69 cents - I like to buy objects to pose with because I'm a model. Sometimes I'll glue small animals to my body," - she stamps her fingertips on her knee, "or tie things to myself... or I can get things to drape over my chest. Michael's, they usually have some good bargains."

"Sometimes they can be over-priced," I counter.

"Yeah, but I can usually find something there. I try to - I stop by thrift stores to find knick-knacks and props to use with me. But you can find good things a lot of places." At this point, the number 4 bus, my bus, pulls around the corner.

She continues, "I have to be ready for my bus... when it comes here. It co- - -"

I couldn't hear what she continued to say because I walked away to get on the bus.

It's not that I don't like to meet new people; I do, but I had this uncomfortable feeling that I had to draw her in class at some point during the last four years. Uncomfortable.

Stranger > Familiar > Neighbor

I went to the Matthaei Botanical Gardens on Saturday.
(Keep in mind: it is Autumn. So, the colors? Grand.)
U-M A&D professor Nick Tobier was hosting a performance
in their perennial garden.
I was the video documenteer.

While the performance was warm, musical, and comedic,
it was not the gesture that lightened my heart the most.
Rather
as I spent the few hours
beforehand and afterhand
roaming the grounds, the gardens, and the Flora & Fauna art fair,
I passed a myriad of patrons,
each of which (young, old, native, migrant, short, shorter...)
greeted me with a smile, a hello, or both.

It was this contact,
even the simple gesture of acknowledgment in eye contact,
that made my day.
It made my day. It made my week.
It renewed my appreciation
in the value of living in a community
where people are happy and they care,
"where everybody knows your name,"
or where
regardless of whether you are a stranger, someone familiar, or a neighbor,
you are always welcome.

This is the most welcome amongst strangers I've ever felt.
And now,
even though I still don't know their names,
they do not seem so strange any more.

Luxuries Hold Me Back

I am more productive when I do not have luxuries at my disposal. The comforts of life relax me. When I am amidst them, I feel content to the degree that I do not have to earn them.

For example... my parents' house, where I currently live, is always air conditioned, very cool beyond the point of comfort. I definitely never sweat in this household. In fact, often enough I am cold.
This luxury relaxes me; it slows me down. I complete work, but at a slower pace, later, and seemingly with more effort.
If I lived in a hot apartment with, at best, a fan, I think I would try harder. I think I would want to work to improve my situation. I would gain a perspective on life of the things I could have versus the things I do not.
You know, my work may even be better. And in fact, it has been.

I want to get a part time job (in a creative field, of course) in Ann Arbor I think. I want to get a place out that way with little luxuries. I want to take care of myself. I want to begin working harder... and producing more art, better art.

Michigan vs. Notre Dame

The greatest rivalry in college football - Michigan over Ohio State as we all know - may soon be bested by the other greatest rivalry in college football between the two winningest teams in college football history.

The contract between Michigan and Notre Dame has been extended through 2031 season. The two most storied teams in college college football will play each other every year for decades.

By the time this contract expires I expect Notre Dame to realize the mutual benefits of joining the Big Ten conference. Then these two schools will play each other every year forever.

And at some point the Michigan over Notre Dame rivalry will become the greatest. Ohio State will take its place in the second toughest rivalry back seat exactly where it belongs... behind a classier school with a stronger heritage.

Face it red and silver, more people just like green and gold...
almost as much as maize and blue.

Jeremy Blake Swam Out to Sea

This is a modern day Romeo & Juliet tragedy...

Jeremy Blake wrote a love note, removed his clothes and swam out to sea one week after his love, Theresa Duncan, committed suicide.

Blake was a guest in Ann Arbor as a part of the Penny Stamps Distingushed Visitors Series operated by the University of Michigan School of Art & Design, March 25, 2004. I saw him speak of his work... animating as a painter paints... and on film projects such as Punch Drunk Love. I was impressed with his art and his accomplishments at a relatively young age.

Romantic or insane? I would argue both. And Shakespeare would agree.
Maybe I would do the same.

Beck "Round the Bend" video by Jeremy Blake

Want

There are a number of things I want. I know what these things are. Some I want more than others. Some are petty. Some I feel I simply need.

A Louisiana hick (read:populist) governor Willie Stark was scripted once to have said, "Sometime... a man so full o want, he plain forget... what't is he want."
Words of wisdom from a "(?)wise(?)" man...?
I'm not so sure this wasn't false. Or maybe he had us all fooled.

But I know I want. And I really want somethings. And I think I know so. And I am pretty certain what they are and are not.

At this point I'm not sure I know what I'm talking about.
3AM!... no, 4!

Thank God Nothing Bad Happened Today

Apparently today was Friday the 13th and I missed it. If anything bad had happened I wouldn't have been able to blame it on the unfortunate coincidence that today is both a Friday and the 13th day of July.
Aren't I lucky?

"Doctors are now medicating unhappiness..."

It looks like there is a solution to waking up in the morning.
CDC: Antidepressants most prescribed drugs in U.S.

"'Depression is a major public health issue,' said Dr. Kelly Posner." And here I thought it was a fact of life.
"She added that 25 percent of adults will have a major depressive episode." I thought we all would. Is it not everyone? This would be depressing.

I understand that some people can be clinically depressed, but prescribing drugs to make someone happier = just one more reason I am disappointed in America.

"There'd Be Days Like This," My Momma Said.

I received a call from the Levy County court in Florida yesterday. A representative was contacting me regarding the letters I had written contesting a citation and another contesting a judgment on the case... a judgment made, mind you, without my knowledge.
She basically offered, in not so few words - and as I grew increasingly upset - three options: pay the fine, have my license suspended, or appear in court... in Florida. Obviously I am not in any capacity to pay the fine or fly to Florida for an afternoon. I was so much more than upset, but I was able to refrain from cussing anyone out, or choking them through the phone.

Let's rewind a few weeks. I had been written this bogus ticket. I was not guilty. I had to do something about it before I went to the west coast to work on a documentary. I wrote the Levy County court in Florida a letter not pleading, but stating my case (i.e. the facts.)

In this letter I detailed my character and my current situation.
I explained how I have a reputation for honesty and leadership. My record is CLEAN.
I had just graduated from college.
I was helping my mother leave, who was among many friends and family who were leaving around this short period of time. This was difficult for me.
I did not have a job yet due in part to living in Michigan. I had little money to survive on until I found a job. My debt will soon come calling for payment. Though it has proven a greater challenge I would like to stay in Detroit to make change in my city.
I was under a lot of stress at the moment, and a fraudulent police citation was not something else I needed on my mind.

And in this letter I detailed the event, and by detailed, I mean every detail.
The whole letter was over three pages long. This is the bulk of it:
"
On May 10th, 2007, I was traveling with my mother along US-19/98 (aka SR-55) southbound entering Inglis, FL. We were on a moving trip from the Metro-Detroit, MI, area. We had stopped to see family in Cincinnati and New Orleans. This final leg of our journey would take us to Clearwater, our moving destination, my parents’ new home, where my stepfather was awaiting our arrival.
As you may remember, the days surrounding the 10th of May were quite eventful. A number of forest/swamp fires were breaking out. And a tropical depression was sweeping the resulting smoke clouds across the gulf coast of the state. These dense and dark clouds consequence of the fires lied at ground level and contributed to a significantly lower visibility than normal. The sun was drowned out of the sky. And though the air seemed fog-like, the particles were not a clear or white moisture, but rather a black burnt ash.
As stated, I was traveling southbound entering Inglis. As one may know, the speed limits change regularly along this highway from 65mph in rural areas outside cities to 45mph while in some range of a city or town. Entering Inglis, there is such a shift in speed limit from 65mph to 45mph.
As I approached Inglis city limits, the “45 mph speed limit” sign marking this change in speed limit from 65mph came into my visibility, albeit slightly later than usual as a result of lower visibility due to forest fire smoke. The moment I saw this sign I immediately began to decelerate from the approximately 65mph I was traveling in cruise control. I specifically made all safe effort to slow to the 45 mph speed limit before reaching the precise intersection/turnaround where the speed limit zones, in fact, change just within paces of the speed limit sign. As I watched my speed I realized I was able to slow to between 45-50mph upon reaching the 45mph zone, and continued to slow to approximately 40mph.
As my glances toward the speedometer returned focus to the road, I noticed a police vehicle parked at this turnaround just opposite the intersection from the 45mph speed limit sign. I cannot confirm whether he was waiting to radar vehicles, as he appeared to be stationary in an actual traffic lane, but he would later claim to have recorded my speed at 66mph, its peak assuming my cruise control was, in fact, set to 66mph, just over the approximate 65mph. The officer must have proceeded to pull out behind me, and follow our right turn at the next light, Follow Your Dream Drive, or Road, because it was then I noticed I was being pulled over. For what, I could not imagine because in no way did I violate any laws I am familiar with.
As he approached our vehicle, I pondered reasons why he may want to speak to me. Perhaps he felt I braked to quickly and wanted to suggest I be more careful in the unusually smoky weather. Perhaps he noticed out-of-state plates and was suspicious. Perhaps he noticed there were dogs in the car without seatbelts on. Needless to say speeding was the last concern on my mind because – just as I had been careful during the 2000+ miles I had driven already – I specifically avoided driving more than 5mph over any speed limit.
(For lack of legibility on the citation I continue to refer to the officer as “the officer.”)
The officer reached my unrolled window and asked for my license and registration. We offered it to him. “Do you know why I pulled you over, Mr. Ostrander?” he asked.
Of course, I didn’t offer the reasons I had pondered as I hesitate to accuse an officer for pulling me over for not breaking a law. “I really have no idea, sir.”
This is the point where the police officer (of the law) tries to tell me he clocked me going 66mph in a 45mph zone. This statement is untrue for all the reasons explained above. I may have been at some peak speed moment been traveling at 66mph, but a radar recording of 66mph certainly could only have occurred before my braking while still in the 65mph zone. In fact, as the officer had virtually been at the 45mph sign, he could only have been able to read any speed I was traveling in excess of 50mph while I was still in the 65mph zone.
I do not claim that the officer was lying. Perhaps he was simply mistaken. Perhaps he believed he saw something that did not happen. Perhaps it may seem that an out-of-state plate signifies a tourist. Perhaps tourists seem likely candidates to break traffic laws. Perhaps tourists are easy targets. (Why would a tourist return to Florida from 1000 miles away to fight a ticket?) Regardless of why, the fact of the matter stands that he did falsely illegitimately accuse me.
I refused to even consider contesting his claim directly for fear that he was intentionally falsifying it, and would take it to the next level, trying to arrest me. This would have upset my mother incredibly. As a recovering cancer survivor with heart problems, unnecessary stress is the last thing her body needs.
After the officer claimed I was speeding, he continued to ask me why I had turned off the highway onto Follow That Dream Pkwy, as if accusing me of trying to run from him, which is absurd because I wasn’t even aware he had decided to follow me. I had to explain that I was helping my mother move. She was telling me about this “great little house with cabins that [she] could have bought and turned into a bed and breakfast.” She and my aunt could have just years before, and I wouldn’t believe what the name of the road is that the house is on. Of course, to my surprise it is on Follow That Dream Pkwy. And, as it turns out, someone did buy this house and cabins… and he or she did turn it into a bed and breakfast. (Forgive me as the name escapes me, but it couldn’t be but a mile or so west of SR-55.) But my mother was telling me about this place, and wanted to show it to me. This is why I turned.
The officer began to walk away before I finished my explanation as if he hadn’t even been listening… or lost interest. During the minutes we sat waiting for him to return with our documentation, ash and bugs had decided to swarm into my open window. This added to our dissatisfied mood, but still I held my calm.
When the officer returned, he explained that he only wrote me a ticket for 64mph in a 45mph zone. This was supposed to offer some sort of financial break and driver license point break. Naturally I was in complete awe that he could have the audacity to write me a ticket for on offense I did not commit, but later I understand that it is very possible this was not done in deceit but in mistake. The officer explained my options regarding accepting guilt and paying the ticket or completing a driving course, or contesting the ticket. I confidently asked him what procedures I would need to take to contest the ticket. This seemed to throw him off a bit – I am sure he didn’t expect my confidence, or perhaps it influenced him to question his call – as he hesitated in… finding the words to explain how I would have to request a hearing with the, uh, clerk of court.
The officer told me I had to sign the ticket. I did. He ripped off and handed me my copy of the citation, suggested I have a nice day to which I thanked him, and walked away. Watching him return to his car, I folded the ticket placing it in the console, and waited to get my driver’s license back. Oops, he called to me, “Mr. Ostrander. Here’s your license.” Yes, clearly my confidence had thrown him… a bit.

I hope this letter/document finds you(s) in good spirit. I hope it finds Florida in better shape than the fires of early May allowed. I hope you understand that the words I write are truth. And I hope you can overturn this citation, the fine, and point penalties that would otherwise infect my clean record.


Thank you for your attention,
Joseph Ostrander
BFA, UofMichigan, 2007
Proud Citizen of Detroit and its MetroArea
"

If you were a judge completely removed from the actual event and truly unbiased reading this letter, would you find it in your heart to believe it and waive this citation? It is the truth after all. And not only is it the truth, but - and excuse my pride for a moment - the victim here is a good person who has earned better than this kind of harassment.

The judge offered me, in one vintage carbon-copied form, a plea of 'No Contest' and no points on my license if I paid the $182.50 fine. I declined. I wrote another letter explaining how I had not pled 'No Contest.' As I am not guilty I ought not be required to pay any fine. Therefore I will not. And I asked why I was not offered a hearing as the officer and the citation claimed they would.

The next week I received the phone call.
I'm considering talking to a lawyer though I cannot pay one.
I'm considering writing more letters weekly until they waive the ticket.
I'm not considering paying the fine.
Otherwise, I am not sure what else I can do.

living at home is such a drag

I have not seen the sky this morning yet, and it's almost afternoon.

As the son, naturally I get stuck with a room on the basement floor, while everyone else sleeps on the second floor - parents, sister, a computer room, and even the guest bedroom where my other sister usually sleeps when she visits. She is visiting this week.

Sleeping on the lowest level of the house has its perks... sometimes. It stays cold down here year round. So while the rest of those upper level family members sweat in their high class bedrooms, I can at least retreat to my chilled hole in the floor, and wrap myself in a comforter... even in the midst of summer.

Usually the house stays pretty quiet in the mornings. My young sister goes to school before the sun rises, my father to work even earlier, my sister lives in New Orleans, and when Stepmom has not gone out in the morning, she often sticks to the second floor.
But, today is different. Dad is off work all week, the older sister is in town, the younger sister is out of school for the summer, and Stepmom wakes up with everyone else now. And everyone wakes up when Dad wakes up.

See the basement floor is cool and quiet, but the first floor is all hardwood. Every word spoken, every conversation, can be heard clear as day below. Every step that is taken echoes. Every time any water faucet is turned open, the orchestra of pipes running throughout my ceiling hiss. And when the youngest finally rises from her coffin and hovers downstairs, the screeching begins, and of course, the television begins its regular operating hours of ALL DAY.

I can usually sleep through some of this, or doze in and out, but its the water hissing that kills it.

Finally it is noon...
I think I will quietly sneak and creak my way up stairs to a bowl of cereal and a glass of sweet tea - thank you, New Orleans.
Maybe if I don't encounter any of the beasts, they won't harass me about how late they think I have "slept."
Maybe I will get a chance to enjoy the partly cloudy blue sky, some fresh air, and decide that today can still be a good day.

I'll put on my swim trunks, and have some Wheaties.