Monday, September 15, 2014

The Obscurity of Things

Self-Potrait with Funky Curtains

______I've always been peculiarly drawn to the abandonment of places and spaces, very similar to the way some boys are attracted to the tantalizing headwear that is a fedora. The way nature smites a space into one composed of peeling wallpaper, tattered furniture, and creaky floorboards is alluring in the sense you've caught something in a moment from which it will only further decompose.

______Some may think the old outhouse I stumbled upon was unpleasant as the texture of mayonnaise on watermelon (mmm yeah, pretend you can feel that one in your mouth), but I've gotta disagree and say it was weirdly compelling, bro. Why, inside was a plethora of eccentric items that would cause any peasant to squeal with delight: a generic baseball trophy, a 1984 road atlas of the United States, a few empty jugs of motor oil, and most curiously, a ladder.

______A ladder in an outhouse? I mean, sure man, maybe there comes a time once in a blue men when you've just gotta take a dump from atop a ladder to make it all performative and stuff. I'm sure someone out there wants to invent the turd-taking Olympics. Hint hint: it's me. The bigger the splash, the higher your score. There's a definite relation between doo-doo size, velocity, and splash circumference. There's a potential topic for your senior thesis. Get at it.

CurtainsCurtains on an Old Outhouse

______So now that we've covered bowel movements and their prospective future role in sport competitions, along with some creepy-looking pictures of me, let's talk about this weird object trailing behind me that just so happens to look intestinal. There is consistency to my blog post topics, random as they may seem.

______This aggregation of segmented strands is actually for a performance piece that I'll have to work with next week for my advanced drawing concepts class, and the forms are based loosely off the gestural, biological forms I work with in my paintings and lithographs. I'm sort of pumped and sort of nervous for the actual presentation, but conclusively I'm ready to go for it. SO READY. Each individual strand is plump with plastic wrap or fabric, and some even have jingle bells in the nodules that produce a delightful wind-chime-esque sound when I move.

______Carry on and be merry, my friends!

Ladder

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Hypothetical Night Club

Connect the Dots

______Holy burnt chicken nuggets in a ceramic dish, this is my last set of outfit photos that I've got leftover from pre-college shenanigans. If you all saw me now, you'd see that I am a whole 0.003% more tan. That much. Absolutely inane, I know. Also when I say pre-college shenanigans, I actually mean kicking my own butt with all the art things I'm involved in. So I hope you guys don't mind a slight change in seeing more art opposed to outfits for a month or so, or at least until I get back into the ZONE, wherever and whatever that is.

Connect the DotsConnect the Dots
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______THE ZONE sounds like an extremely unsuccessful nightclub that would be located on some obscure, tiny planet in outer space, one like Pluto. Every three minutes in this night club, a deep, resonant voice would echo atop the sick dance tunes, "THE ZONE," like those car commercials that desperately want to remind you what their sale is all about, even though their sale is actually raising prices and ripping you off, man. Maybe all the employees wear traffic cones on their heads when they're serving drinks and pole dance wearing nothing but fringed speedos and reflective vests. We will have gender equality at this night club, and our diversified range of employees will only be scantily clad if they choose to be, otherwise they can wear a toga made of braided toastor a hotdog costume, or whatever they freaking want gosh dangit. Why?

______Because we here at THE ZONE don't take anyone's crap. But the restrooms do, and gleefully so with their shimmering metallic floors and hourly-sanitized, hands-free bathroom technology. Quick wink. You're in safe hands at THE ZONE. Dare we call ourselves a Safe Zone? We dare freakin' do.

______There will be tiny whole-grain sandwiches with the crusts cut off served through all hours of the night, ice cubes in the shape of cars drifting in crystalline bowls of Kool-Aid, and warm cheese dip and chips galore at every corner of THE ZONE's hexagonal-shaped dance room. Sleek. Contemporary. Obnoxiously geometric, with splashes of construction orange and strategically placed reflective surfaces that disorient wall from floor.

______I can only hope that you will all visit before it's shut down three days after opening, but until that day does come, I wish you all the best of your upcoming week!

Connect the Dots

Vest: c/o For Elyse (exact)
Dress: Urban Outfitters (similar)
Oxfords: c/o Duoboots (exact)
Cicada earrings: Etsy
Necklace: Charming Charlie
Socks: Happy Socks (similar)

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Quit With Hue Bad Self

GreenStripey

______The past week or so has been absolutely surreal. I've been moving through the world like I've been voyaging on some kind of magical art school vacay, absorbing everything around me like an ever-expanding, ever-hungry, ever-spongey sponge. A sponge with legs. Or maybe a psuedofoot, like snails. My days consist of scribbling away in sketchbooks, hacking away at sheets of fabric, painting away in the studio, and ruminating upon art ideas via nighttime bike rides where I listen to David Bowie albums on repeat. Everything seems a little more certain this year, a little more intensely saturated, a little deeper and more apparent.

______I haven't had much time to properly blog due to taking more hours than I'm used to top of my part-time illustration job. I mean, I've totally been having to stick "eat lunch" on daily to-do lists. But you know, I feel like I'm living and breathing art so I can't complain, not at all!

______I know most of you have seen these photos, either via the Instagrams or the Facebooks, but to explain them, they're based a thought about how the palpability of light can transform a subject either through lending them some emotion or appear to put them through a literal transformation. I'm taking is a freelance Honors Photography class that I'm really excited about since I haven't lately been using my camera but for blog photos and documenting art. Here's to more creative thinking!

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______And before you think, "Oh no, there could be a booby or a body part that half the human population has and knows about in there!" I must say 1) dude, chill, everyone has them nips and 2) I zoomed in everywhere. No nips for you. The free spirited nakedness does not bother me personally, but I do occasionally think about the wellbeing of others. Either way, let us embrace the body. It's been hard for me to do, as I'm sure you all know from my less-than-lovely history of eating problems, but you've gotta start somewhere.

Back

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Hiding Behind Messy Hair

HideHide

______I'm sitting at my freshly painted dining room table munching on cloudy, tinny-tasting ice cubes as I write this, trying to rattle my brains for a topic of some value to ramble on about. Like uh, these ice cubes? It's a chilling topic, but I promise I won't type in all ice caps to discuss it. HA. Ha. Haha. Please don't punch me.

______So when I was a wee sprout, I used to eat some strange things, and well, ice cereal was one of them. More specifically, ice wedge cereal. Because for some reason ice cubes form in wedges unless you possess a fancy-shmancy ice machine like my parents, but alas, despite the shape, we all still refer to tiny frozen water pieces as "ice cubes."

______I digress. Ice wedges totally need to be a thing, so let's coin this term while we can. Join the revolution: #icewedgesovericecubes on Twitter. If any of you actually tweet that hashtag, you're my hero(ine) of the week.

______Back to our intended topic: ice wedge cereal. It was a simple recipe, really: you pluck a bowl from the cabinet, dump a handful of ice wedges in there, and fill the bowl with warm water that crackles the ice from the inside out. Then you dig into that homogeneous mixture like a crab digs into his gnarly crab sand lair, thus freezing your insides from your teeth to your tongue. It's very chilly and flavorless, yet it simultaneously satisfies some strange need. Like a cat needs to scratch a post, young-me needed to munch on ice wedge cereal every few weeks.

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______I also made potato chip and butter sandwiches. Totally the healthiest thing ever, check this out: you grab two slices of white bread, both bleached whiter than that one 36-year old man who still lives in his mom's basement, smother butter on both pieces, and finally smash some chips on one slice, making sure to distribute the chips proportionately across the buttery wasteland. Smack those two pieces together and shovel that in your mouth for a carb-laden adventure that'll have your mother rocking back and forth in a corner.

______...'Murica.

______There was nothing that satisfied the taste buds quite like that starch-o-rrific, greasy butter and chip sandwich. I guess my extremely healthy eating habits now stem from a subconscious repulsion of past noms.

______Have you eaten anything that would be deemed strange as child, or even now?

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Top: TJ Maxx (similar)
Skirt: Moon Collection, via Modcloth
Booties: Charlotte Russe (similar)
Necklace: Charming Charlie
Ampersand ring: c/o BornPretty
Twist ring: c/o RoseWholeSale

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Sailor Dweeb

Navy

______Before I knew it, I was teetering over a rock-plated cliff that curved down into the murky lake below: a crescent moon half submerged. Wind rustled the crispy leaves surrounding the three of us. The water glinted a pearly white on its mossy green surface. A lazy Monarch butterfly dragged its wings through the soggy air as my friend's sister snapped pictures of the lake before us.

______Nuh-uh. Nope. Not gonna happen. There's no frick-frakkin' way. My friend moved to my side and gazed over the edge. It was about a 30-foot drop and the raw water lapped and rippled at the cliff's edge below: not dangerously, but not invitingly, either. I watched him watch the water. Take it all in. Become one with nature. Mentally prepare himself to leap off like a crazed yet majestic toad and smack the lake water below, probably only to be devoured by man-eating piranhas that had split heads and teeth like calcified thorns. Good luck getting out of that one. I'll stay up here where it's safe and piranha-less, thank you very much. 

______He gathered his courage quickly, and off he went.

Navy
NavyNavy


______Or more accurately, off he sprinted. Whatever. He dun scrambled off that big rock like a starry-eyed, 19th century dreamer after gold. Gutsy bruh. Epic poems would probably be carved in tablets of ruby about him, which wouldn't be readable in the least, but hey, ruby tablets. Statues erected in his honor. Maybe also made of rubies, or something more ecologically friendly, like old Pepsi cans surrounding a form of bubble wrap. A comment to the whole retaining the natural lakes concept. His face would be painstakingly embroidered on the pocket of everyone's favorite T-shirt. You know, little enjoyable things. Maybe I'm being a little too dramatic here.

______SPLOOOSH

______The lake swallowed him whole and immediately barfed him back up, as if rejecting his presence below water: a fleshy human-shaped bobber. Lake didn't wanna eat him. Maybe the lake didn't wanna eat me, either. Maybe the lake didn't think hominids were tasty. A reasonable theory. An enlightening theory. Only one way to test it.

______He egged me on to go next. Naturally, I hesitated. But after pacing back and forth a few times, my thoughts rigged with self-motivational quotes, I was ready. Lady balls quickly flourished on my person and I primed my face with the most authentic Pokerface I had. Lady Gaga would be proud. Except she wouldn't, because she doesn't know who the heck I am. It's a shame, I know. Air balled up in my windpipe. I took one last glance over the rocky edge, and I went for it.

______I dashed, leaped, and all seemed perfectly decent, like I would fall a short distance until my feet softly touched the earth. Thus was obviously not the case here, for gravity mercilessly pulled me down with its invisible claws. I tried to shout, "Aaah!" but I don't remember if I did or if I could have even remembered to do so. The first few feet falling were slight and easy to stomach and felt like an everyday jump, like one off a squat brick wall with a trampled flower bed at the top, but the last few before you broke the water's surface made you realize your lungs were pushed against your throat, you were weightless and powerless, and that there was no safety net. You were falling. Gravity was your authority. You were in the able hands of Mother Nature. Do or die, motherfuckers. 

Navy9Navy
Navy

______PLERP

______I plopped into the water like a dense turd in a shallow toilet and probably with far less grace than one, assuming turds can be graceful. My waterlogged friend cheered me nonetheless, even though my form was haphazard as a soggy Cheerio ripping apart in a bowl of warm milk. I felt like one, too. Arms splayed. Shoulders not tucked into my body. Water definitely infiltrated my nose, much to my displeasure. But I succeeded, and maybe someone would sew an image of my face or at least my eyebrow on their shirt pocket, too. Definitely gnarlier and more extreme than Six Flags. I'm ready for my custom leather jacket, permanent cross-and-bones tattoo, and braided chest hair that'll stream fervently in the wind after my shimmery cobalt Harley gets fixed.

______We two water mongrels gazed up at the cliff, for now it was his sister's turn to join us in the murky depths to become the third mermaid of the lake. I poked my eardrums to draw out water. After some minutes she jumped, too--a quiet, pin-like sploosh into the water--and we soon found ourselves treading in place, hovering over cold spots in the quiet lake.

______It was an experience. One I will only do once, and from now on, I think I'll keep my limbs stuck to the ground or the water rather than hurdling through the air like I'm hurdling through dimensions. 

Navy

Top: Tatyana
Oxford heels: Jeffrey Campbell
Socks: Target
Necklace: JCPenny's (similar)
Both linked bracelets: Charming Charlie (similar)