Friday, September 26, 2008
you know what i really appreciate? honestly and straight forward advertising. so many hair products appeal to our ethos by making their advertising either scientific or french, or both scientific AND french (i.e. "biologe" and nexxus' "therappe"). but i recently discovered something new. something shamelessly honest. a brand called, "BIG SEXY HAIR." that's it. no pretense. pageant hair is the goal.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
my three brothers.
my three brothers [the hardass remix].
my sister, hollis and her husband, jeremy.
me and mom.
my sister, rachel, and her husband, paul and the kids.
a painting i am working on.
a face that made my day. [john kovalenko]
Sunday, September 21, 2008
so, this was done for a class, but it is pretty much an extension of how i approach all my work: with an obsessive leaning toward color relationships.
among several clever and charming illustrations gracing the main floor of the hfac, was william carman's "perisniffer". apparently they help the wee pups acquire a higher taste, if you will, in the aromas of anus.
and the video that occupies most of my waking hours these days.
yes, another post referring the "the jenny" but i just love this song so much.
my sisters,(from left to right) hollis, hilarie, and heidi. sans me and rachel. but that's probably all for the best b/c i don't think we actually fit into their club. what with our names starting with a letter other than "h".
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
I caught this image in Boulder.
I've been working on my research proposal for my Contemporary Art class. My subject you ask? Margaret Kilgallen. Her aesthetic was one of hand-crafted/painted imagery drawing upon old typography, signmaking techniques, indian folk art and hobo art. Much of her work is painted on cardboard, brick walls, or gallery walls for installation pieces, usually with house paint. Cardboard and house paint are the antithesis of archival. I've recently been interested in the question of whether art should be "built to last" or whether ephemera represents the true state of art. I feel like the latter is where I'm heading as far as intentions lie. And my question is: If all art, in the past, were physically ephemeral, lasting only a day to 50 years at most, how would that affect future generations from that point and how they created or understood art? Would it even be art? Or would it be more so? I don't know if there is an objective way to look at this question. But, I ask it because a lot of dogmatism comes from the idea that art should be made to last. Usually these claims are referenced with works from the Renaissance that are still intact and then followed by facts and numbers about the high budget that the MOMA has for maintaining or restoring the works inhabiting the space. But that falls under the assumption that archival is best. I think there is something to say about pieces that will only last for a moment or perhaps a bit longer, carrying this bittersweet and honest sense that all things are mortal.
But, then there are so many things that I enjoy and I am able to enjoy them because people in the past have bothered to make it that way for me. Many books, or storytelling for that matter, have survived several generations and printmaking processes to make their way to the bookshelf at Borders or the local library for me to consume. And while the quality of those books won't lend them to last for hundreds of years, the constant reproduction and adaptation to new technologies will allow the content to last indefinitely. So I guess this is a two-fold question/challenge then: Do we need the physical to be archival for the content to last? Or does the content always last, but constantly being revisited with new vehicles?
I can't decide.
I just got back from a quick trip to Boulder, Co. this morning. Me, Vanessa and Alyson went to go see Jenny Lewis at the Fox Theatre. I was a little unsure about this new album, what with her experimenting with her top register and all (the recordings back up my hesitation about this). But, live, she was incredible. The uncomfortable reaching for notes that you hear on the album disappeared into a sultry falsetto on stage. Also, check out the jumpsuit!
My birdbladder forced Alyson to pull off the highway to find a bathroom, which led me to this little gem. Since childhood, I have been gently obsessed with ramshackle houses, decrepit buildings, spaces that seemed forgotten. My parents had a thing for going on drives to simply look at houses. Not even for buying. Just to look.
I especially love the handpainted sign.
I drove all the way to Orem at 6 am and all I got was this lousy sunflower....
We got up for the Grand Opening of the Sunflower Market in Orem. We even got to hear the mayor speak. Whoo-wee!
My studio space.
And the friends that keep me company there.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
i'm reading Satre's "Intimacy" . The character Lulu imagines her sleeping husband, rolled on his side, as being tied up by little people ( i.e. Gullivers Travels.) I like that. I think it would be funny to wake up in the middle of the night and see a little old man munching on some crackers, reading the newspaper in my open palm. I would not, however, want to be tied up. At least by him.