The Accessibility of Art with Personal Themes    2006-03-13 11:43:36 ET
Finally the link to the "Self-Start Anxiety Kit":

Very unhappy with my current art class. He's a found object artist, and therefore we should be too. I can find crap on my own time. I took this class to learn a craft--wood work, welding--he says he wants to teach us to think and craft comes later. I say I have to learn it now because when am I going to have a wood and metal shop again? I can formulate ideas for the rest of my life on my own and do a better job because I'll know what CAN be done with materials...been bitching about this for months.

We had to give a mini presentation on an artist we didn't like. Mine was about how when you make personal art that's so personal no one gets the symbolism but you and your mom it fails in a gallery because while it can be beautiful, intriguing, whatever, it doesn't make it's intended point. Everyone yelled at me. Probably because we'd just had a project called "Student in a Box" to do. Mine? I made a box with 3 peep holes in it. Inside you can see a jar of urine, a jar of hair suspended in water, and a jar of blood. It's about voyeurism, privacy, vulnerability--it's my DNA and piss, things not many are privy to. You don't want to see that yet you had to walk up to the little hole. That translates in a fucking gallery. The link above is for the exact same assignment at a different school. That translates in a gallery. A box of ticket stubs and newspaper clippings (one of the girl's projects) doesn't fucking achieve anything.

They asked, "so art shouldn't make you ask questions?" Of course it should, but it should make you ask more than "What the hell was he trying to do?" It concluded with the teacher saying I had anger issues and I was oversensitive. Maybe I just wanted to give my report without event, like everyone else got to.

This question about the accessibility of art is something that's really bothering me lately. There are artists whose work is meant to have a meaning more than an aesthetic value, which is fine. But what's not fine is when it just doesn't go anywhere. Once you put a piece in a gallery it's a public object. It's a performance, it's a commodity, it's whatever you want to call it but it's not in your living room or studio anymore. It needs to speak to an audience or it's nothing. Perhaps (sometimes) arguments to the contrary are cop outs made by people who can't make their art speak to anyone. Other times they're strictly "I don't have to do what you say" statements, equally stupid.
1 comment

 an uncharacteristic but necessary entry in what's meant to be an art journal    2005-11-19 23:35:15 ET
i saw a car accident next to me as i walked on the sidewalk. i love that sound, the screeching and the sick smash. i loved the girl's face. i don't wish ill on them, but it was just quite amusing to see exactly what happened to me a couple of years ago from a third person perspective.

my new love has engendered a recovered sense of the surreal in me. i feel so much more alive, although it's winter. and i look around for things, and i find them, and i think about chance and luck and probability. the weather isn't anything but envigorating. i quit smoking. i quit worrying [as much as i'm wont to].

the hurricane katrina was destined to happen, scientifically speaking. none of us knew it so we didn't prepare. i was optimistic; i knew nothing had happened to my apartment or car. i found out both were destroyed, i was fine; i'll find a new place. i discovered that's not financially possible with the state of things down there. i fell into somewhat of a pit akin to when i was here in nashville during highschool, hating everything, hiding everything, planning my demise, retreating so far into myself that i got lost in my pettiness/shallowness; you can drown in only an inch of water after all. i made a choice not to be angry anymore and to end whatever phase of my grief i was in. and the minute i stopped looking for something to cure my pain, something came along, as always.

my only fear is that in a short few weeks i'll have to return to new orleans and be away from someone who makes me everything from giddy to peaceful. and that's why i can't say now and possibly ever that i love life. life is in essence an expiration date and each part of it a microcosm of its whole big joke. i can't very well say i'm not relieved that some stages expire, but what when the good ones do? are we meant to say it wasn't meant to be, you'll find something else, you'll learn from it and be stronger? i don't think that's going to always work.

but things in my heart and head are different than they've been. instead of worrying so much about the end that i ruin the time i have, i'm living in the time i have. and it's come so easily. i confess i didn't think i'd be able to. i'm still a little afraid i'll snap. but i feel like i'm getting the fresh start i thought i was getting months ago before i got wrapped up in my old ruts. and i'm going to fucking take it.

     2005-11-14 19:55:25 ET
My "Self Start Anxiety Kit" was a hit, at least with Michael Aurbach, which is all that matters (I do admire him so...go look: ) At the critique he said things like, "you've really hit on a gold mine", "you could get 10 years of work off of this theme", etc. That meant something coming from him because, as I said, I admire him and his work and his education.

The next project's parameters: plaster, and the concept of dessication (the concept was chosen by lottery).

In other news, I took some great pictures of Vanderbilt's beautiful campus (it's a national arboretum, did you know?) with its fall leaves and then my camera mysteriously stopped working. Research has proven it to be a common thing with this camera, officially making it a piece of shit. I didn't buy it, it was my parents' and they gave it to me thinking they'd get another down the road (post-Katrina guilt gift). It's only taken 1026 pictures...

So now I can't take pictures of my sculptures, or finish the project by making a user's manual. Mother fucker.


 returning to sk, sculpture activity, etc.    2005-10-18 16:49:53 ET
I must admit that with all the recent stuff I forgot about SK. That is until I met KiltedLunatic in person here in Nashville.

So I'm studying at Vanderbilt for the semester and taking a kickass multimedia sculpture class. Our first project was the typical build a chair out of cardboard and glue that holds your weight. It had to be from a historically recognizable period in art history. I made an egyptian throne. It's huge. And pretty fucking comfortable. Good thing, since I lost all my furniture in the storm. You can see the process but not the finished product (yet) here:

Our current project is "Personal Baggage." We have to make something wearable/carryable that represents metaphorically through design, concept, and materials our own personal baggage. I'm making "The Self-Start Anxiety Kit." It is made of aluminum, screws, rivets, and electrical supplies. It will consist of a head piece wired to a waist/hip piece wired to a wrist piece plus a remote control box (which is becoming the bane of my existence) and an instruction booklet. I've made the waist/hip piece and fuck yes I'm wearing it to the club! It's a very tight bondage corsety thing all decoratively riveted and a little weathered. It closes with hasps. The control box has on off switches for each of the units as well as knobs to control the intensity of whatever I decide to call each piece. All that information will be etched on and explained in the instruction manual.

I've also been playing more with PhotoShop and not really getting anywhere impressive, but it's fun. I'm taking a non-credit printmaking class that I'm not really suceeding in...I think I'm more of a 3D person. Plus, what can you get done in two hours a week? Nothing.

No modeling since I've been here but I have a camera now. I have to figure out how to use it...I've never used a digital camera before. I got a feature on for my rope bondage series with Images by Gordon....pretty prestigious shit. Of course, last time I checked only the photographer got credit, which is just a little frustrating.

I've seen a lot of dead things lately. I managed to scoop up a bird before it decayed or was feasted upon; you can see him on my deviant art page: I saw a crow/raven/something hit by a truck on the highway. It siezed for a while...I didn't see it die, but I saw it's murder checking him out. I wonder if they eat their own.

On that note, goodbye for now.

 Sightings    2005-08-12 02:21:38 ET
I saw a white balloon, sans string, floating around violently on the interstate overpass with each gust given by a passing car. I wonder how he got there.
I also saw a lone, red apple sitting in the middle of the walk around Jackson Square.

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