You are not the only heart
I have swallowed.
You are not the only hand
that feels love backwards.
August highlight: Triple lens accessory, T gift (fisheye, wide angle, macro).
5: Fisheye POV.
6: Fisheye POV @ T.
7: Testing macro on T guitar pick.
Dreaming during my period:
- My spine branched off into fish wire into the lining of my core organs. Once my core organs failed on me, my spine unhinged from my skull at the frenum magnum and chewed the nape of my neck away to crawl out like a centipede. My insides seeped out of my lower lumbar region and everything pooled in my panties.
- Row one: a black trash bag textured sumo wrestler with a line of competitors.
Row two: a thick, off-white paper lantern in the shape of an enlarged parasite like in Alien, and a line of competitors… one of which was me.
Row three: a massive, brown underground tremor & a line of competitors with a brittle, beige bamboo ladder parallel to the ground.
Row four: a monumental blood red snake & a line of competitors.
Row five: a round, giant menacing woman & a line of competitors.
Row six: a tall, ghostly black floating almost skeleton figure & a line of competitors.
Row seven: the Fremont draw bridge & a line of competitors.
I’m sea sick
I’m sea sick!
Everyone’s watching me as I’m here writing, and I’ve fallen sea sick.
Swallowed by the ocean, drowning in sound
It’s so LOUD
In two years, two of my closest will be too far and it will be too little too late.
After four years of being an art student and graduating as one, I feel like I’ve really developed a greater understanding of it than I ever have. And moreso, developed a desire to see more, and way beyond what is purely optical. It took me years to understand the way the artworld works, and how art is perceived in terms of what is acceptable as contemporary, and why solid blue canvasses can be sold for 60 mil.
A recent Old Navy ad came out with Amy Poehler as an art critic and I think it’s very funny because it does point out the stereotypes most people have of what high art is: bullshit, highfalutin, eccentric… overpriced… meaningless.. .etc. All of that. I agree that some of those stereotypes are very true. Many artists are full of shit, but I honestly believe that most of them create art with such integrity and so intentionally that the stereotype is really just the perception of people who don’t comprehend what it really means to create art.
For example, a few years ago, I hated contemporary art, all of it. I thought it was full of shit. I hated Oldenberg and his boring sculptures. I hated Warhol and all of pop art. Rothko, Mondrian, Pollock, I can literally do everything they can.
But as I continued to learn about art history and read into the rise of contemporary art, it all clicked to me. Yeah, Jackson Pollock literally threw paint onto a piece of canvas that he put on the ground and flicked cigarette butts into, but before Jackson Pollock was popular, all you could really paint and be noticed for in America were like, these western scenes, and portraits. The scope for what was acceptable was so incredibly small. And that is the whole point of every movement in art history— to change what was stagnant, to widen the scope, to question the institution, and to create work that had depth beyond what you can just see and what was previously acceptable. Pollock sort of put America in the art scene. He blew that shit up, yo. Of course, it was somewhat of a coincidence after Europe and the war and not to mention the media fluff, his persona of the emotional cowboy… etc. But that all comes into play.
The end result is when someone buys a Pollock painting for 140 mil (actual price), they’re not just buying a giant rag with house paint all over, they’re buying a piece of Art History. They’re buying one of the moments that lead to “oh shit… we don’t have to paint just people any more” and “oh shit.. I see you, America, putting your foot in the art game.”
And yes, your kid can make what Jackson Pollock made. But let me tell you, if he hadn’t made that first and opened the door a little more, the possibility of art even being anything beyond portraiture or iconographic image wouldn’t even be there. And then no, you could never say your kid can make that.
Most artists understand this. Most know the formal elements, history, technique, and understand the rules of having ‘no rules’. So when they paint a vase of sunflowers that’s already been done and popularized, they know they have to make it really interesting.
Anyway. Yeah, so to me, the contemporary section is now an enjoyable place to walk through because I love looking at work and thinking, “what does this reference”, “what does this mean”, and most importantly I am able to see the changes that are happening to the field. Granted, in most museums, the contemporary section is a few years old and the institution has already kind of fucked with it, but it’s a decent place to start.
So, when people tell me that getting a studio art degree is a waste of time, I laugh. In no universe did I get my degree for someone else. I love art. I love the act of creating something meaningful and personal, I love the potential, and I love the history. It’s okay if you don’t understand that, but it’s kind of like hearing a language you don’t speak: just because you don’t comprehend the conversation doesn’t mean it’s invalid. Appreciate what you can- the sound, the rhythm, but don’t dismiss it for nonsense because it’s not something you own.
I know we don’t talk too often, but you can’t know how proud of you I am.
mostly for decoration,
like the way I feel about
persimmons. You can’t
really eat them. Or you
wouldn’t want to. If you grab
the soft skin with your fist
it somehow feels funny,
like you’ve been here
before and uncomfortable,
too, like you’d rather
squish it between your teeth
impatiently, before spitting
the soft parts back up
to linger on the tongue like
burnt sugar or guilt.
For starters, it was all
an accident, you cut
the right branch
and a sort of light
woke up underneath,
and the inedible fruit
grew dark and needy.
Think crucial hanging.
Think crayon orange.
There is one low, leaning
heart-shaped globe left
and dearest, can you
tell, I am trying
to love you less.
-"Crush," Ada Limón (via commovente)
The problem with writers is that we find sentimentality in the most mundane of places. Moving out of the apartment that witnessed the unfurling of my first real romance feels surreal and more than mildly upsetting.
I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up.
Harry Belafonte - Jump In The Line (Shake Senora)
"My girl’s name is Senora
I tell you friends, I adore her
And when she dances, oh brother!
She’s a hurricane in all kinds of weather!”
I’m so ready to challenge the notion that just because you “weren’t like that” when you were a kid that you can be an ass to kids
I’m so ready to challenge the notion that your right to not want children means you don’t owe children respect
I’m so ready to challenge the notion that kids deserve anything less than the respect and patience we all wanted as children but were denied for reasons we often simply couldn’t understand
I’m SO READY to challenge the notion that being a kid isn’t a good excuse to be flawed and that it’s a child’s fault for not learning, developing, and maturing quickly enough to meet our expectations
I’m so ready to challenge the notion that outright hating kids is anything other than petty
I remember the first time I saw proudly childfree types complaining about other people’s “crotchfruit” and “crotch droppings.”
Oh, but we’re only referring to badly behaved children!
No. Fuck you.
Children have not yet developed your strength, stature, or mental abilities. They have not had time to accumulate your knowledge or experience. They have far fewer legal rights than you do, and other people (who do not always have their best interests at heart) make all their major decisions. Socially, they are often required to treat you with a certain amount of deference for your stunning achievement of successfully breathing for longer than they have.
Expressing open disdain for a dependent class of smaller, weaker, less educated people with far less autonomy than you makes you look like an asshole.
Here are some things we generally accept as dickish:
"Oh, I just don’t enjoy being around women. Like, what is there to even talk about with them?"
"I’m not very good with disabled people. I never know how to act around them."
"Please tell me there won’t be any recent immigrants there. They just don’t know how to behave."
Don’t be a dick to kids either.
Every single little sin
Covered up in skin
-Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr.