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Long Live The Queen!

07.22.10 Posted in family by jamey

My wife’s having a birthday, so I decree her to be queen for a day! Happy birthday lady-girl, you’re the best.

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AT-AT day afternoon video

07.09.10 Posted in ideas, video by jamey

LOVE THIS VID. So fun. Then add the “making of” afterwards and get your mind blown by how simple and ingenious his work his.

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Recently consumed eye-candy

07.07.10 Posted in design, ideas, photo by jamey

Eye sugar! I put all my visual research in Evernote notebooks that I share publicly, so you can check them often for updates or add the rss to your reader. Links to the notebooks are over in the right sidebar, and the three “Candy Bins” I share are: DESIGN INTERIORS PHOTOS.

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Clouds are nice

07.06.10 Posted in photo by jamey

Saw these clouds outside my work last week, shot some pics with my Iphone and stitched them together. Click for a MUCH larger image.

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My “Hipstamatic” world

06.28.10 Posted in photo by jamey

Love this app for Iphone “Hipstamatic.” Takes pics and gives them an analog, hipster-approved light bleed or chroma filter or film grain, etc. It’s either on or off really, it either ruins a pic or makes it spectacular and cool. Here are some of my cool ones.

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Love What You Do, or there will be cockroaches

06.21.10 Posted in good word by jamey

It’s very 2010 to think you need to love your job; I hear the voice of my grandfathers generation grumbling “shut up and get to work,” and in some ways they’re right. Being diligent, that’s a great thing. Going quietly about your work and putting your back into it is commendable. You’re providing for yourself and/or your family and you’re adding something to the world. And then there are the cockroaches.

Watching Gordon Ramsay on Kitchen Nightmares (see them here on Hulu) you see how bad things can get when you stop caring. Chefs and managers and waitstaff who lose their passion let their environment and relationships deteriorate to an alarming extent. Spoiled food served to customers, horrible service, lying, laziness, and of course rats and cockroaches in the pantries and basements. When Ramsay points this out (in a foul-mouthed and over-the-top way) these people look at the roaches in a daze, as if they’re seeing them for the first time. In some way I think they are, they have disconnected so completely they can’t even honestly take in their surroundings, they are in a state of utter denial.

I’ve let roaches invade some areas of my life, more than once. No amount of external pressure explains it either, that love, that passion can only come from inside me and can only be allowed to dim by me. Here’s to never letting in the cockroaches again!

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“The Lost Thing” trailer

06.04.10 Posted in uncategorized by jamey

Coolness!

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Stevie Wonder, oh my my

05.12.10 Posted in music by jamey

I’d like to thank YouTube for showing me Stevie’s sick, sick skills.

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Every Living Thing available for $3

05.11.10 Posted in music by jamey

Every Living Thing is my first official release (from 2004) and has been unavailable or hard to find for some time. I’ve started using Bandcamp.com and really enjoy the way it works so I refreshed this EP and am making it available again for the low, low (haha) price of $3. I added an acoustic version of the classic hymn “I Love To Tell The Story,” a remastered version of the title track and some zesty new cover art. Check it out, tell your friends, tell your loved ones, pass it on!

<a href="http://jameyclayberg.bandcamp.com/album/every-living-thing">Every Living Thing by Jamey Clayberg</a>

Click the “Download” button to buy, or visit the Jamey Clayberg page on Bandcamp.

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The day I saw Brad’s body.

05.05.10 Posted in good words by jamey

In high school (while living on the island of Papua New Guinea) I had the unusual privilege of seeing my schoolmate Bradley Daimoi’s body after he drowned. I say privilege because having been born in the United States to a supportive and loving family I would probably have lived my life seeing death as nothing but waxy faces in high-gloss boxes with dressy clothes on. In PNG (where my parents worked as missionaries) things were much simpler. My Dad told me Brad’s parents had the body at a house nearby and he wanted to visit, and wanted me to go along. I was nervous about it, Brad was a grade above me and although not in my circle of friends I knew him, and my high school brain struggled to process the notion that this human being I’d rubbed shoulders with a couple days before was no longer present in the shell of his body. I don’t know how or why we in the US developed the traditions we have about preparing and viewing dead bodies, but I have a feeling if you take the middle class dollar out of our culture we will eventually snap back to something akin to what I saw there in the basement in PNG. Shiny mahogany caskets are well beyond a luxury.

Brad had been a strong swimmer and loved the water, he was kayaking offshore in Madang when a swell tipped him over. He, being conscientious and an very standup guy tried for a long time to right the kayak, as it was rented and he wanted to bring it back in. He spent too much time trying and ultimately failing to right the kayak and exhausted himself so completely he drowned trying to make it back to shore. There in the basement he was prone in a kayak-sized hand-built wood box a little too small for him to lay flat, it pressed against his sides and gave his arms and neck awkward angles that would have been uncomfortable had he been alive. It did not look like he was uncomfortable now, merely gone. His normally mocha Melanesian skin tone had a whitish film on it, like the back of aged dark chocolate. He was wearing his regular clothes, maybe even a t-shirt and had two large wads of cotton stuffed in his nose (to keep water from getting out I found out later.) His Mom and Dad were there, I think, I know there was a crying woman and I think there was a crying man. She/they hugged my Dad and cried and also did that thing Christians do, which is approach death as passing on to a better place, a habit I sometimes loathe as it seems to be an effort to gloss over pain and loss, and is usually used as a knee-jerk thing to say when you interact with the recently bereaved. This was not knee-jerk, it was genuine to a depth I won’t ever forget, the truth of it amplified by the blank plainness of Brad laying there awkward in the box.

All the usual stuff drifted through my head, the fleeting nature and preciousness of life, the beauty of people comforting each other, the hopeful gaze upward with thoughts of life after death and Heaven and Christ, all brought in to sharp focus by the strangeness of Mason Daimoi’s dead brother laying there stuffed with cotton in a hastily made wooden box on the carpet in the basement of a missionary house on an island in the Pacific. I wanted to get out of there badly, but I am forever grateful to have been there, even just to pay respects to Brad’s beautiful life and the God he so faithfully and genuinely served.

Photo by Norma Desmond

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About Jamey

I write, make music, design and video. I'm also known as Herva. Find me on: LinkedIn and Twitter.
Eye Candy bins



Fun With Photoshop