The premise of my zip lock bag project:
I was the one with the balloon. The zip lock bag was actually one my friend gave me for my birthday (at one point in time it was filled with cookies), and it said, "Yay 20 years old!" on it. Inside the bag were 3 items. One was a dream catcher earring my dad bought for me from our favorite place on earth, Glacier National Park. Another item was a keychain with a few dog charms on it that my mum bought for me. And the third item was a piece of a earring I used to wear. It was a seattle mariners logo, but the needle part broke off so I know I just keep the little trinket. And my oldest brother gave me those mariners earrings. I guess you could say the bag represented myself. Those things inside were representations of not only my favorite things (Glacier, Mariners, my dog, my native american heritage), but also the relationships I have had throughout my life which have shaped me and made me who I am. And I decide to tie a birthday balloon to it as a means of transportation. I realize that if I really want to accomplish my goals in life, I cannot stay 19 forever. The balloon (aka getting older) is a way of taking me to different parts of the worlds and enabling me to experience new things I have never experienced. Another element to the whole thing was the idea of conceptual balance. The balloon will not be able to take the plastic bag anywhere if it is too full of heavy things. Just like I cannot not move forward in life if I am caught up in destructive relationships with others. Things will go in the bag and out of the bag as it moves around and follows an unpaved "path."
My other bag was a bag full of "garbage," but really they were all things that could be recycled. There was an aluminum can, some cardboard, and a plastic bag. On the bag I wrote, "HIDE IT IN HERE NOBODY WILL SEE IT." I don't really want to say what this means to me, because I think it can mean different things to different people and I don't want to take that meaning away from them.
side note: I just realized that this bag is sitting on my desk, will probably be discarded of in the next week when I clean my room, and the chance of any human other than me seeing it is pretty much zero. Yet I still think of it as if something that can, "mean different things to different people." Funny how these imaginary people exist in my head, yet they still exist enough for me to feel uncomfortable with the idea of taking something away from them.
Back on track: I found it really amusing that it was one of two or three bags that no one spoke of in our critique. The idea of hiding something, or itself, translated into practice I guess. But it could have just been a coincidence who knows!
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Installation
For my installation project, I decided to work out of my bathroom. People use this room, come and go, and I feel like it is really under appreciated. I think many of us do our best thinking in the bathroom and I'm sure a large number of geniuses have had their "breakthrough" while showering, washing their hands, or doing some other necessary physiological activity. So to show my appreciation for the bathroom, which is usually neglected at every party, I decided to throw it a party in a sense. I hoped to engage the space that is usually not given a second thought as people did their thing in there. I pinned up balloons all over the walls and had balloons covering the floor. To add an extra element, I stuck my stereo system under the sink and had speakers playing Lil' Wayne on the back of the toilet. I set this up around 4 pm and left there, music playing, till 1 am.
My roommates' reactions to this were the best part. One of them heard the music in the bathroom and kept asking me if it was okay to go in there cause she really suspected that there were people in there having a party. Then she later told me that she looked forward to going to the bathroom. My other roommate was scared to go in because she was so clueless and fearful about what she might find. When either of them asked me what was going on in an attempt to find out what was inside the room before they entered themselves, all I would say was, "It's just a little party."
The space actually began to transform gradually. At one point as I was using the bathroom, I felt a little self-conscious. The party-ness of the room definitely affected me.
Quote from my roommate's facebook: "...thanks to one of my roommates, a trip to the bathroom is like a party..."
The space actually began to transform gradually. At one point as I was using the bathroom, I felt a little self-conscious. The party-ness of the room definitely affected me.
Quote from my roommate's facebook: "...thanks to one of my roommates, a trip to the bathroom is like a party..."
Monday, October 25, 2010
Goofy String
I feel like balloons lately. I get into these phases where I only want to draw cartoons of wolves or . And right now I feel drawn to balloons beaucoup. I love balloons because they are universally happy. I love making people happy and no other object, excepting money, has the power to put a smile on so many people's faces.
Barry Johnson didn't respond yet. Hope he still will!
I have really enjoyed this class more and more as I got into it. I felt very constricted at first, all starting with the clay. I chose sculpture over ceramics because I really don't enjoy working with clay all that much. On the first day when we were told we'd need to go buy clay, I felt quite dismayed. But I am glad now that I chose sculpture because I am learning so much more than just how to do a wax mold (this isn't to dis the importance of wax molds at all). Now I feel the freedom to do what I want that I could compare to breathing. It was hard at first because my brain is so wired to look for an A. Get assignments, do assignments, get grade, move on. This class is really a release from that and I'm trying really hard to not limit myself by what I "think" you want us to do or what I should do.
Barry Johnson didn't respond yet. Hope he still will!
I have really enjoyed this class more and more as I got into it. I felt very constricted at first, all starting with the clay. I chose sculpture over ceramics because I really don't enjoy working with clay all that much. On the first day when we were told we'd need to go buy clay, I felt quite dismayed. But I am glad now that I chose sculpture because I am learning so much more than just how to do a wax mold (this isn't to dis the importance of wax molds at all). Now I feel the freedom to do what I want that I could compare to breathing. It was hard at first because my brain is so wired to look for an A. Get assignments, do assignments, get grade, move on. This class is really a release from that and I'm trying really hard to not limit myself by what I "think" you want us to do or what I should do.
Under the Hill
On turning 20: all of my memories feel the same (memories from when I was 5 do not feel any further away than my memories of when I was 15). And they all feel like they happened yesterday.
I left a comment on Barry Johnson's blog. I am anxious to see what he thinks.
I left a comment on Barry Johnson's blog. I am anxious to see what he thinks.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Not many...
There's a light over at the Frankenstein's place. That is all I can think of right now. I am ready for the critique tomorrow, though not excited. I cannot remember when the next plastic bag project is due. Not tomorrow hopefully. Today was one of those days that make me feel like, what did I do to deserve such a great life. I found a peace in running around from place to place today. I looked everywhere I went. I don't even know what I'm looking for. I guess I'm just looking for ideas, inspiration, anything I can use for a future project. But sometimes I find things that I don't think I would ever use for a project, but it's still interesting. I like training myself to be open like this.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Bullshit Project
I have not written in a while because I was feeling dismayed about how my last project turned out and I feel little inspiration about which to write.
But things are much better today!
In psychology "gender constancy" is the moment or stage of life when a young child realizes that his/her gender is concrete, permanent and that he/she will remain that gender for the rest of his/her life. This usually happens around the age of 4. This idea has been floating around in my head for while now and it is what I would like to do my bullshit project on. Our culture puts a huge emphasis on gender and it starts at infancy. Parents (for the most part) dress girls in pink and boys in blue. We are obsessed with putting males and females in their places from the first breath! When someone walks up to a parent with a baby, they feel that they should instantly be able to tell whether it is a boy or a girl. And if they cannot tell, they'll ask the parent. Is it a boy or a girl? It is as if they cannot go on with their day without knowing what gender that baby is. And no, you cannot just accept that it is a baby, a new life, a wonderful creation in itself. Knowledge of gender is indispensable to some.
This continues heavily though the ages of toddlers and preschool (2-5). I work at the WSU Children's Center in a preschool room. There are boys and girls ages 3 and 4. They are really great to talk to about things like this. As one would expect, nearly all the girls wear pink on a regular basis (I used the work "nearly" so as to not be absolute though I cannot think of an exception). I often ask girls and boys about color. What is your favorite color? Do you like this particular color, why or why not? Girls often respond that their favorite color is pink, or they say pink along with other colors they name (i.e. blue, green, yellow, etc.). Boys never say pink. Boys say blue, green, red, black, orange. I enjoy these conversations, though I do not push very hard because I don't want to take advantage of my position by interrogating the children in hopes of gaining some bit of psychological insight.
Sometimes I really want to just yell, What is the big deal about liking pink??? Because that is how I feel. Not that there is anything wrong with pink. I love it just as much as every other color in the rainbow. But I know what they would say. "Pink is a girl color." This is what they, and most other people in our society have been conditioned to believe. From birth, girls wear pink. How can I expect a 4 year old girl to understand that the only reason she claims pink as her favorite color is because she has been conditioned to? I don't know that I can. I feel that children are really missing out when we raise them to believe that this is a boy activity, this is a girl activity, boys: don't play with those dolls, those are for girls only; girls: don't play with those G.I joes, those are for boys. They are missing out on new experiences, new ways to think about the world, new ways to learn.
This is what my bullshit project will be about. I would also like to incorporate the double standard of gender roles in my project. Boys are held in a much tighter box of what is socially acceptable that girls are. Girls can play with almost any toy they want. But if a boy plays dress-up and wants to wear a pink dress up then typically he will be discouraged immediately. It blows my mind that there are parents out there (I really know some first hand) whom I have seen make a 3 year old boy take off a play-dress. Are they afraid that the dress will turn their son gay? Wow. So getting back on track with the project, I want there to be a blue box. Completely sealed, representing boys. There will also be a pink sphere-shaped open form representing girls.
My thoughts, these are. (said in a Yoda voice)
But things are much better today!
In psychology "gender constancy" is the moment or stage of life when a young child realizes that his/her gender is concrete, permanent and that he/she will remain that gender for the rest of his/her life. This usually happens around the age of 4. This idea has been floating around in my head for while now and it is what I would like to do my bullshit project on. Our culture puts a huge emphasis on gender and it starts at infancy. Parents (for the most part) dress girls in pink and boys in blue. We are obsessed with putting males and females in their places from the first breath! When someone walks up to a parent with a baby, they feel that they should instantly be able to tell whether it is a boy or a girl. And if they cannot tell, they'll ask the parent. Is it a boy or a girl? It is as if they cannot go on with their day without knowing what gender that baby is. And no, you cannot just accept that it is a baby, a new life, a wonderful creation in itself. Knowledge of gender is indispensable to some.
This continues heavily though the ages of toddlers and preschool (2-5). I work at the WSU Children's Center in a preschool room. There are boys and girls ages 3 and 4. They are really great to talk to about things like this. As one would expect, nearly all the girls wear pink on a regular basis (I used the work "nearly" so as to not be absolute though I cannot think of an exception). I often ask girls and boys about color. What is your favorite color? Do you like this particular color, why or why not? Girls often respond that their favorite color is pink, or they say pink along with other colors they name (i.e. blue, green, yellow, etc.). Boys never say pink. Boys say blue, green, red, black, orange. I enjoy these conversations, though I do not push very hard because I don't want to take advantage of my position by interrogating the children in hopes of gaining some bit of psychological insight.
Sometimes I really want to just yell, What is the big deal about liking pink??? Because that is how I feel. Not that there is anything wrong with pink. I love it just as much as every other color in the rainbow. But I know what they would say. "Pink is a girl color." This is what they, and most other people in our society have been conditioned to believe. From birth, girls wear pink. How can I expect a 4 year old girl to understand that the only reason she claims pink as her favorite color is because she has been conditioned to? I don't know that I can. I feel that children are really missing out when we raise them to believe that this is a boy activity, this is a girl activity, boys: don't play with those dolls, those are for girls only; girls: don't play with those G.I joes, those are for boys. They are missing out on new experiences, new ways to think about the world, new ways to learn.
This is what my bullshit project will be about. I would also like to incorporate the double standard of gender roles in my project. Boys are held in a much tighter box of what is socially acceptable that girls are. Girls can play with almost any toy they want. But if a boy plays dress-up and wants to wear a pink dress up then typically he will be discouraged immediately. It blows my mind that there are parents out there (I really know some first hand) whom I have seen make a 3 year old boy take off a play-dress. Are they afraid that the dress will turn their son gay? Wow. So getting back on track with the project, I want there to be a blue box. Completely sealed, representing boys. There will also be a pink sphere-shaped open form representing girls.
My thoughts, these are. (said in a Yoda voice)
Thursday, October 7, 2010
A Beautiful Failure
I will tell of my adventure attempting a mold made purely of marshmallow creme. I started out optimistic. My plan was this: line the inside of my plaster mold with plastic, pour marshmallow creme in, let it set, easily slide giant marshmallow out of mold, remove plastic, bask in the gloriousness that is me for creating such a wonderful sculpture. It's not hard to pin point exactly where this plan went horribly wrong. Lining the inside of the plaster mold with plastic just sounded so much easier in my head. My first attempt of simply placing a bag in the mold failed epicly. First, the marshmallow creme was not in an easily pourable liquid state I imagined, (this was my first contact with marshmallow creme and I wrongly assumed its properties). So I tried my best to fill the plastic bag with the fluffy creme. But the bag was not in the form of the mold obviously so this was not going to work. I solved this problem momentarily by redoing the plastic. Only this time, I used double stick duck tape and duck tape to the max to get the plastic bag to keep the form of the mold. But it was not happenin I tell ya what! So I thought and thought about what I could use in between the creme and the plaster. I assumed that if the creme hit the plaster directly it would most definitely stick. I resolved to use Petroleum Jelly as my releasing agent. Yes, this was my full proof plan. I was very excited to use food coloring and make it all cool crazy colors. Let me just say, it was absolutely perfect in my mind. So I melted the creme a little in the microwave to get it more liquid and dolloped it in. I let it sit for a few hours, but it was not becoming very hard so I transported it to the freezer. After a couple hours in there, I figured it would not get much harder. So I took it out and very carefully removed the plaster mold. And.... wait for it..... moment of truth...... unfortunately the creme came with it. It all pulled apart and at that moment my sank a little bit. All this time and effort for this? I big pile of mush???
In short, I was a tad bit stressed. It is my style to wait till the last minute to do these things. I feel like I have my best ideas in crunch time. So the moment of stress was intense, but was just that: a moment. I looked at my mush and smiled. Though it was just a pile of nothing, it was my nothing that I had created. And it was really quite beautiful. I decided that since my sculpture had been far from an intended success, I would document its welcomed failure. Dyes mixing together created a landscape of color that I felt I had never seen before. The Beatles song Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds came to mind immediately. The more I examined the creme left on the three plaster pieces, the more I started to fall in love with it. I do declare that the forms (including the texture, shape, dialogue, and ESPECIALLY color) might be the most beautiful things I have ever created. These are my photographs documenting the creme's evanescent existence in my shared kitchen in Pullman Washington.
For my second mold I had really wanted to make rice crispy treats. I went ahead and did it. Though I only have one mold to present in class tomorrow, I am not worried. After watching the creme ooze and change for upwards of an hour, I feel that what I got out of this project is much more than a simple form that I have constructed in a traceable fashion. Like the Navajo sand paintings, this was all about the process for me.
In short, I was a tad bit stressed. It is my style to wait till the last minute to do these things. I feel like I have my best ideas in crunch time. So the moment of stress was intense, but was just that: a moment. I looked at my mush and smiled. Though it was just a pile of nothing, it was my nothing that I had created. And it was really quite beautiful. I decided that since my sculpture had been far from an intended success, I would document its welcomed failure. Dyes mixing together created a landscape of color that I felt I had never seen before. The Beatles song Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds came to mind immediately. The more I examined the creme left on the three plaster pieces, the more I started to fall in love with it. I do declare that the forms (including the texture, shape, dialogue, and ESPECIALLY color) might be the most beautiful things I have ever created. These are my photographs documenting the creme's evanescent existence in my shared kitchen in Pullman Washington.
One last note. My housemate inquired as to what the substance was. She said it looked like marble or plastic. I disclosed that it was purely marshmallow creme and she asked if she could eat some. I recorded it here:
For my second mold I had really wanted to make rice crispy treats. I went ahead and did it. Though I only have one mold to present in class tomorrow, I am not worried. After watching the creme ooze and change for upwards of an hour, I feel that what I got out of this project is much more than a simple form that I have constructed in a traceable fashion. Like the Navajo sand paintings, this was all about the process for me.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Tomorrow May Rain, So I'll Follow the Sun
I try to live in the present. Our whole society is very futuristic. These are the questions we answer: high school-where are you gonna go to college? college-are you gonna go to grad school? grad school-where are you gonna work? once we've found a job-when are you gonna find a spouse? married-when are you gonna have kids?
is it so wrong to just want to live for today and not tomorrow once in a while? I don't think so. We should not sacrafice our present for our "future present." The present we have now is just as important as our present will be in ten years. Every second is the same and will be the same. We stress out so much over doing things now to guarantee a happy future. But first of all, it is not possible to plan a happy future. We have very little control over the future, only over ourselves. Secondly, happiness should not be a destination, but rather a lifestyle. I choose to live with joy, a lifestyle that I have not always had, but now am very grateful for. Sure my pants just got drenched in dirty street water when the bus drove by and splashed them, but one could say I just became better off than those who didn't get splashed. There is some aspect of life, something to sense with smell, touch, sight, hearing, (hopefully not taste), that I now understand a little better than everyone else. My mind becomes that much more well-rounded. There are certainly times when I don't feel happy and I have learned to accept those times. I don't pretend to be happy when I'm not. But I have realized that it all starts with baby steps. If something good happens to you, don't just let it pass by with indifference. Shout for joy when you get a good grade on a test, or when you splurge and buy the fance kind of pesto, or when, in my case, you find a quarter on the ground! Appreciating the small things is a big part of my lifestyle.
Don't live your life now just being anxious for the future to arrive. I tell myself, the future doesn't exist. Only today. And possibly tomorrow (so I should probably do my homework just in case).
is it so wrong to just want to live for today and not tomorrow once in a while? I don't think so. We should not sacrafice our present for our "future present." The present we have now is just as important as our present will be in ten years. Every second is the same and will be the same. We stress out so much over doing things now to guarantee a happy future. But first of all, it is not possible to plan a happy future. We have very little control over the future, only over ourselves. Secondly, happiness should not be a destination, but rather a lifestyle. I choose to live with joy, a lifestyle that I have not always had, but now am very grateful for. Sure my pants just got drenched in dirty street water when the bus drove by and splashed them, but one could say I just became better off than those who didn't get splashed. There is some aspect of life, something to sense with smell, touch, sight, hearing, (hopefully not taste), that I now understand a little better than everyone else. My mind becomes that much more well-rounded. There are certainly times when I don't feel happy and I have learned to accept those times. I don't pretend to be happy when I'm not. But I have realized that it all starts with baby steps. If something good happens to you, don't just let it pass by with indifference. Shout for joy when you get a good grade on a test, or when you splurge and buy the fance kind of pesto, or when, in my case, you find a quarter on the ground! Appreciating the small things is a big part of my lifestyle.
Don't live your life now just being anxious for the future to arrive. I tell myself, the future doesn't exist. Only today. And possibly tomorrow (so I should probably do my homework just in case).
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
can the child within my hear rise above?
I spent the weekend at a Monastery of St. Gertrude. I went on a retreat there with a group of people from the interfaith house. It was so cool! I loved hanging out with the nuns. I paid special attention to the art in the monastery and boy was it impressive! There were statues, paintings, and even needle-work hangings everywhere. In one addition on the complex called the Spirit Center there were a lot of pieces made from recycled materials. The building was built on a slope and they had to cut down some trees in the process of the construction. So they took one of the trees that had to die to a local artist and he made it into a lovely sculpture. It appeared to be shaped somewhat like a dog bone, but curvier; and it was about 7 or 8 feet high. Anyways, I loved how they took something that was old and going to become sawdust and turned it into a welcoming and approachable sculpture. The wooden sculpture especially fit in this building because the building's theme was nature. The walls and ceiling were a soft green, the floor was stone tile. So I really got the feeling of nature and the once-a-tree wooden sculpture really helped. I wish I had taken a picture, but I did not bring my camera.
observation: i have 42 photographs (some are pictures I took, most are postcards) hanging on my wall. I face them when I sit at my desk. I have never counted them before. Now that I have, I don't like that I know how many there are.
observation: i have 42 photographs (some are pictures I took, most are postcards) hanging on my wall. I face them when I sit at my desk. I have never counted them before. Now that I have, I don't like that I know how many there are.
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