To be short and blunt: I don't get LOL catz. They freak me out. However, I'm a fan of owls, case you haven't noticed. This vid was obtained from the canihazcheazburger site. Or however you misspell that.
Welcome to the world of my brain from the years 06' - 08'...
I found these old sketchbooks of mine on my sister's shelf.
Once upon a time, I went to art school in the city...
The professors told us to keep sketchbooks of our ideas, dreams, thoughts, ramblings, doodles...basic art student stuff. These were two of my sketchbooks from back when I used to believe that pursuing ones dream of being an artist in New York City could still become a reality.
My grandmother's brother, Vincent. My mother and him have the same eyes.
The picture I drew this from was of a family portrait. He's reclined in his mother's (my great-grandmother's) lap. He was sick that day.
I had an obsession with long flowing hair for a while in school. We were told to do a series of abstract paintings at one point in my second year, and I painted hair - very close up, and in swirling patterns. My professor scowled at the finished products since they weren't actually abstract. I stayed quiet and looked the other way. I was a stubborn student.
This is me becoming bored with my sudoku in the paper and doing something else with it. I'm sure this took up a great deal of class time where I was probably supposed to be working. Oh well.
Mother and daughter in the MoMA.
From my final year of school. This photograph would play a large part in my thesis. That's my grandpa (on left) and great-uncle Mike dancing in make shift kilts (table cloth and bathrobe) with Papst Blue Ribbon beers in their hands.
It's my favorite picture of my grandfather.
A friend wanted nautical style tattoos of Iman and David Bowie. These were the first sketches I came up with. Again, this isn't art, but it was in the sketchbook.
Benicio. Need I say more?
Who Are You?
I'll have to take a better photo of this at some point. I love this drawing. Alice and post-it notes go well together in my opinion.
My main problem in school was motivation. I had trouble doing what the professors asked me to do since I was a stubborn brat with enormously outdated romantic ideals about artists and creating. I lost them fast after experiencing how different New York actually is from my childhood imaginings. When I finally fell into a good, steady, working routine of productivity, it was two weeks to the end of my school career.
I'm not kidding.
There were only 10 of us working on our thesis projects at that point, and the energy in the rooms we had available to us was palpable. It made us want to work harder, push more. All of us became so tired and run down that absolutely no inhibitions were left in our bodies when it came to our art. We'd all collectively reached our breaking points and then pushed past them in those final days. It was an incredible, freeing feeling.
Trying to find that same energy now is extremely difficult, but I find it in my own way. I don't paint anymore, and barely draw. Writing is easier, and creating things with my hands makes me feel more productive as an individual since it's so tangible. Being alone with good light streaming in from a large window and a white surface to work on, whether it be a table or a blank page, is when I'm happiest.
Tomorrow I head west on a this large metal contraption modern folk call a plane. I'd prefer a dirigible, but we all can't be choosers, now can we?
While compiling a large load of laundry (hello alliteration) for said trip, I came across a few things that were very much western at heart. One was this old piece of fabric I'd saved from my Nana's things after she passed away. Nana was a quilt maker, artist, needlepointalist (is that a word?) and a lover of all things beyond the Mississippi. She especially loved the work of Georgia O'Keefe and the Native American tribes of the west. This fabric of hers reminds me of both, and I wish I could figure out something to create with it. It seems like such a waste to leave it as is. It should be used and loved.
This belt was my other discovery. I'd had the leather strap rolled up and stored in my closet for years but I hadn't seen the buckle for the first time since high school until this morning. It was hidden beneath a forgotten pile of clothes on my dresser.
It reads "Central & Union Pacific Rail Road Co." The Central Pacific RR laid its first tracks in 1863 to connect to the Union Pacific RR, which is the largest RR network in the states, apparently. I have no idea how old this buckle is, but it's mighty heavy. I think it belonged to my Nana's grandfather. Her family was from out west, and she herself had been born in La Jolla, California.
The image on the buckle is a heard of longhorn cattle being corralled. In the picture, in the back left, you can see a cowboy wielding a whip. Now, the only longhorn cattle I know come from Texas, and the only parts of the west that my nana's family came from were Arizona, Nevada and Cali. Then again, if you're traveling on a railroad, visiting other states ain't that difficult.
Discussing these things leaves me feeling melancholy. I wish I knew more about my Nana's family, but I rarely got a chance to talk with her about them. The few things I do know are fascinating though...
We had a great-great-grandfather named Paul Frazer who was a naturist and wrote several books on fishing and the wilderness which you can still find in old bookstores today. We have piles of letters from another ancestor, D.M. Frazer, who was a doctor in the Civil War, along with a sword from the war which was engraved with his name. (The first things I noticed in the letters was that he gave his children incredible names like Winthrop, Mahala, and Houton.) We know my nana had a bear cub for a pet when she was a little girl. I've also seen pictures of my nana as a baby lying on a bear skin rug, and I hope that her pet didn't become her cuddle toy.
I feel like these little guys should be singing "because the world is round, it makes me cryyyyyyyyy..." or something.
I love my little sets of twins.
They're for a First Friday event tonight in Philly at a Yoga place. I'm excited to bring them, but I don't know if I'll put them up anywhere. I'm planning on making business cards to hand out. We'll see if these little guys find new homes. If not, you'll be seeing them on Etsy.
(Please forgive the crapy quality of the image. It was taken on my phone.)
They're supposed to be for an arts event tomorrow night in Philly, but I'm not sure if I'll bring them or not. We'll see. If they end up staying home, you'll soon be seeing these little guys (stuffed and ready) on Etsy.
This past weekend I was swamped with putting finishing touches on the three antebellum dresses I'd made for a production of The Heiress.
The playhouse where they're putting up the production is magical. An old church with pastel colored window panes and arched doorways leading you inside a maze of ancient plaster walls and vaulted ceilings with intimidating wooden support beams. I loved being there.
Below are a few images of the dresses on the actresses and the old converted church. Enjoy.
This purple dress was supposed to be my practice dress that I did all my experiments on but the costume mistress liked it too much to let it go. Some purple ribbon and extra love from my mother helped create this finished product.
The pastel window panes. I got to sew in their soft light. It was very special, indeed.
The play is focused around a plain Jane character. In the first act she dons a red dress the color of "cherry red" which was her mother's favorite color. This is that dress.
More of the old church, but from the outside this time.
We were very hurried in our fitting of the red dress. Hence the hectic camera movement.
The door was came through at the beginning of the day and left through at the end.