How to Eat Seeded Grapes

______The first step to properly eat seeded grapes is, quite frankly, to have seeded grapes in your possession.  This can happen only by mistakenly purchasing them or receiving them as a spiteful gift from that two-faced liar of a neighbor who also happened to kill your beloved plants when you asked her to water them on a short vacation.

______Perhaps your usual grapes were out of stock and you hastily grabbed those tempting, planetary-looking table grapes as a surefire replacement, or maybe you just forgot to read that darn label. No matter which way you decide to acquire them, it will always be a mistake, because nobody buys seeded grapes unless they want to sabotage or appall whoever is coming over for dinner that night.






______Upon acquiring your nasty, seed-filled grapes, you must proceed to pluck one from its aggregation of spherical brethren and pop it into your mouth. This action is very important and must be done with as little enthusiasm as possible. From here, you will swish the grape around in your mouth and nibble at it delicately, for you do not want to disturb the seeds that are lurking beyond the grape membrane. To do so is to knock at death's door. Why? Because these grapes have no logic, no manners, and no formula for their spontaneous seed counts; where as a large grape the size of a 25-cent bouncy ball may have four seeds, one that is extremely tiny may have just as many. This is also to say that a large grape may have just one seed that is floating away from the center of its expected growth point, because you know, seed spontaneity.

______There is no pattern, and the grapes know that damn well; you must ready yourselves against their unpredictable advances.

______As you munch carefully around the seeds, you will inevitably bite into the grape membrane and its enclosed grape plasma with too much force and scatter the seed(s) into an even more incoherent pattern. From here, your teeth will crunch uncomfortably on a something that will halt your chewing and silence your surroundings.

______Oh no. Oh dear.

______The seed.

______You have done it. You have bitten into the seed, and it will mingle with the grape parts and render the entire grape useless, and you will swallow parts of it and receive in your mouth an unpleasant, woody aftertaste. When (not if) this occurs, you will spit the grape out, frown disgustedly for an indefinite amount of time at a wall and/or the remaining bag of grapes themselves, and proceed to wallow in self-pity, most likely in a corner or at your dining table.

______And that, my friends, is how to properly eat seeded grapes.



Dress: Lulus (similar)
Necklace: Charming Charlie
Sandals: Franco Sarto

The Obscurity of Things

______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.

______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!

Hypothetical Night Club

______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.

______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 toast, or 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!



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)