Wednesday, September 17, 2008

this photo is for marc and thoughts on margaret kilgallen



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.

update//photo essay


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

triscuits for the wee ones


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.

Friday, September 5, 2008

at least 84 minutes

I saw Vicky Christina Barcelona for the 3rd time tonight. It wasn't planned. It never is. But, I love it each and every time.

Monday, August 25, 2008

a couple things


i've decided to create landmark events each month to help to ease the stress of school and to pass the time. life is so much more enjoyable when you can anticipate exciting events. christmas ceases to thrill me anymore so i have to make do. so heres what i have so far:

Aug 28: I'm rich $$$$

Sept 9: Jenny Lew's new album, Acid Tongue. woot woot.

Sept 25: Austin City Limits....maybe???

November some random thursday: Thanksgiving is my absolute favorite holiday.

December 1: Apply to BFA, blow the minds of the art faculty

December after the 25th: Everyone comes home! New apt!

I need something for October. Help me fill my happiness schedule.



I'm in a cabaret mood. I've been listening to the Chicago soundtrack along with the Dresden Dolls today while packing, silenty imagining myself on a green lit stage complete with bob/fishnets/sequins/taps.

i need to pack.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

i can fix my own damn car...or at least change the oil


i have arrived. i am now a woman. i don't know if this event was supposed to coincide with the first day of my cycle but no objections here. i like nicely tied up pairings. anyway, i learned something today. something i should have learned approximately 3 years ago when i bought my car but still. i learned it nonetheless, with the help of my friend and teacher nathaniel ray pickett ( a gentleman and a scholar for those of you not in the know). and that thing, ya know THAT THING that i learned...yeah i changed my oil for the first time

now this photo...this photo was captioned "why women can't fix cars" prefaced by detailed instructions for "men" for changing their oil, followed by instructions for women that read "pull up to a juffy lube, wait 15 min, write a check for 21.00".really? really? screw you bastards.

Monday, August 11, 2008

plast skog



So I was on my way home from SLC, with a rain cloud face that not even pancakes could assuage, when I stopped at Ikea. Maybe it was the bright yellow sign. In my right mind, it would have reminded me of the Wal-Mart smiley face and propelled seven shades of nausea to do their little dance around my entrails. Not today, I guess. I usually get overwhelmed in large warehouse stores (and boutiques in their own right) but this little gem kept me occupied with glee throughout the hike in the plastic forest: Elk shaped pasta.