Like Untangling a Knot

I'm moving out of my apartment. My beloved 305 will no longer be my own and this reality comes with some interesting issues.

The inevitable wave of sadness has yet to crash on me but I imagine myself weeping in front of my landlord as I handover my keys.

Removing all of my things has been the hardest thing. Difficult for practical reasons - I have spent pretty much my entire college career in this apartment and have accumulated a lot of things - and for emotional ones - after three years I find it strange to think of what is "mine." I have felt protective of the 305, annoyed when strangers puked on my floor and broke a dining room chair during various parties. I have felt dismayed by its old...well, everything. I have longed for air conditioning and proper heat. I tried to remind myself not to get attached; the 305 is not a permanent home. Despite all that, throughout my cleaning, I have found my roots, dusty under the clothes and clutter of my room.

It's easy to pack the things in my room; I know everything in there is mine. Out in the apartment, things get a little tricky. The bathroom rug, the doormat, various glasses, the coffee pot and toaster oven, things that have become permanent fixtures of everyday use...these things are mine too but I feel weird taking them. There is a sense of shared ownership and I'd almost rather leave them behind for my roommate (my best friend) out of convenience for her.

But with the reality of moving out comes the reality that I will be moving into a new place. I am moving in with my very good friend Niki and her husband JP. They have just bought their first house together and have found it in their hearts to welcome me into their new home. This is a temporary thing and it has always been understood to be temporary. They are being exceptionally generous in every possible way (giving me my own space, basically an entire level of the house-among other things). By having an expiration date, they are ultimately helping me out by forcing me to plan for Portland.

I am extremely excited about it. There will be the new roommate feeling out stage where little annoyances will be discovered, which I'm only slightly anxious for. Mostly I know that, while I may feel like I'm cramping their style, they are totally ok with me being there. After all Niki asked me about it in a manner that suggested moving in with them was the completely obvious choice and saying no would be a stupid decision. Since it is their first home together, I initially felt strange about encroaching on their married space; but I have been invited for dinner and painting several times already (during which I have been in that strange space, hovering in between guest and housemate) and I know that weirdness I feel is just because I haven't actually moved in. Nothing is official quite yet. The room which is to be mine has always been called "Sam's room" and I was consulted on the paint choice, though ultimately it was not my decision (as it shouldn't be). They have gone out of their way to incorporate me into things and have been honest and upfront about everything.

I don't want to say it's strange because that would be a lie. It isn't strange. It's just new and I will not be trapped by my limited vocabulary and stunted emotional reservoir into saying it is "strange" or "weird" or any other word with a negative connotation. The reality of it is this: I am thankful to be at a new beginning surrounded by friends and support to push into the really new scary thing: moving to Portland.

I've Got Plans To Make Plans

My to do list for the week:
1) Finish at least three prints for my class by Wednesday
2) Hang out with mom at a free concert
3) Pay my rent
4) Get to work on time
5) Organize

Picture Day

Pictures of some of the things I'm going to miss when I move away from Missouri.

It's Called Appropriation

My print teacher told me that to make me feel better about using lyrics of songs as jumping off points for my art work. "Nothing is original. Nothing is new," he said.

That being said I think I have figured out a concept for my portfolio/my body of work. Some might even say it could be a graduate thesis or something. I want my work to be about the place where words fail and images pick up the slack.

I feel like lyrics work very well because they are already examples of when words fail: lyrics are words accompanied by music. Some lyrics are so strong they evoke emotions and elaborate imaginative journeys. Those are the lyrics that I want to use to make my art work.

The first piece I'm working on is from a St. Vincent song. The lyric is "Your heart is a strange orange to peel." That evokes such a strong image to me and the sketch I drew up looks pretty cool. I just need to draw it up for real and get a color mapping going so I can begin the screenprint process.

I also wanted to do a four color separation. I haven't gotten a chance to do that yet but I think it is a really cool process. I just need to find a good image. I'm not really sure though. I need to listen to more music to get some inspiration.

On a completely unrelated note, I drove back to Columbia today after spending the weekend in KC. I had to be at work at 8:30 and I needed to go to my house first to put away some stuff. Well I was trying to hurry up and I stepped over a pile of mud but didn't quite make it. I slipped and busted my knees on the pavement outside of my apartment. My right knee was actively bleeding and I was cursing to myself as I gathered my things. I realized that I made a noise that sounded very much like R2D2. I said "Whoaa!" while I was falling to my knees' doom.

So yea...that was my Monday morning. Good times at the rodeo.

Obsession

So I graduated. I believe I mentioned this before. At the end of the semester (a scant three weeks ago) I was dying to continue serigraphy. I was searching for a way to continue my work, either somehow rigging up a studio in my apartment (yea, likely) or pulling money out my rear to take a summer class. Well, the VA forced me to continue the student route so I'm taking a summer print class. I was excited.

I am excited.

That being said, the class is starting on Monday. I'm nervous now. The desire to do serigraphy hasn't left me. I'm just slightly unsure about what I want to work on now. It matters in a completely different sense now. I don't need the credits to graduate. I have graduated. I am just doing it to work on my process. Now, though, I want to establish some kind of a body of work. I want to apply to the Pacific Northwest College of Art, mostly just to see if I can get in. I really can't afford to go there. But I want to know if I am good enough. Is that strange?

I'm trying to see if I can actually establish myself as an artist, in the traditional sense. I'm not exactly good at drawing; though, admittedly, I haven't exactly tried to be one. I've just made art to keep my sanity, for fun. But in this past semester, I believe I have found a medium that actually suits me.

I am in love with serigraphy. Seriously. If I could, I honestly think I'd marry it.

It's weird to think that I don't have to do homework anymore. I mean, not if I don't want to. But here I am, trying my hardest to get back into school. I won't say any kind of school-I've done the liberal arts thing. Not that it's not my cup of tea, I just think I might be ready for a more specialized route (hence the baking and pastry/art school business). That prospect also terrifies me.


How do people make a living these days anyway?

Hold Steady

I'm pretty sure blogs are not really my thing. What do you think? Ok, maybe it's just timeliness that isn't my thing.

Side note: I really don't like Ashton Kutcher. It's unexplainable and probably completely unfounded but I just don't.

I just got back from Portland, a place I'm certain I will live in eventually. It is pretty amazing. I'm not into cities at all but I really enjoyed my time in Portland. I checked out two art schools and a couple of apartments. It's crazy expensive to live there (at least in comparison to Columbia) and since I'm remarkably bad with money, I imagine I'll have quite a time in Portland. BUT I really think it's something that I need to do for myself. I'm just...scared I guess. I mean, I'll be how far from my family? They are my safety net. So, no they won't be gone but it's hard to be caught when the net is a 4 hour plane ride away.

All that neuroses aside, I still do believe moving to Portland is something I can accomplish; something I need to do. To, you know, be an adult.

It's creepy to think that I'm supposed to start up my own life now; something independent from my family. I mean, in a way, sure, I've already got that. But not really though. My life is an appendage to my life with my family. It makes sense, my family is my life now. Well, I"m making the move away from that and I think that's the cause of a lot of my issues (if you can say I have issues--I think I do, not that that makes me special or something).

Another side note: I. Graduated. From. College. Whoa.

While I was in Portland, I saw the tv show Leverage shooting. I didn't get to meet any actors or anything. I was on a campus tour of the Art Institute of Portland when my mom and the Assistant Director of Admissions almost ruined their shot. Tehe. It was pretty cool though. I recognized one of the guys but for the life of me I couldn't remember his name. I wanted to go up to him and say "Hey, I loved you in Summer Catch" because it would have been funny. Not that Summer Catch was a "bad" movie, I'm sure it's just not something he's used to being remembered for. His name is Christian Kane.

Evidently Leverage shoots in Portland regularly. Another plus for moving there.

Be Elaborate. Don't Compromise

My printmaking teacher said that about our first assignment but I think it could apply to life as well. I feel like I'm always compromising, what I want in life, who I think I'm supposed to be, how I spend my time. I'm not exactly sure how or if I'm meant to 'remedy' this so called issue.

I'm sitting in the graphic design lab at the FAB, working on my capstone paper that was due yesterday (technically two days ago). I feel like that Vampire Weekend song, Giving Up the Gun. I personify that lyric Ezra sings "And though it's been a long time, you're right back where you've started from." I just went through the agony of staying up way too late to work on something that really shouldn't be this hard. This is my last semester. I should be living...well not really on easy street because this is probably one of the more important semesters of my college career.

I'm coming to realize that I've been content with a certain kind of mediocrity for most of my life. Maybe that's not fair though it really doesn't matter. I honestly cannot think of a time when I've "fired on all cylinders" so to speak. I don't know if I've ever put my full effort into something ever. I'm unsure of what that would look like. What kind of work would I be producing if I did more than just enough?

I'm not sure if I can actually accomplish doing my best at everything in life. Just thinking about it makes me tired. Especially with school work. I feel like there's a choice between doing what I think is fun or "living in the moment" and doing what I should do or "be responsible." Most days I feel like that Fiona Apple lyric "I sit and daydream. I've got daydreams galore." I almost feel like I've got next to nothing to show for the past four years. What have I accomplished here? I know that I've changed, I've grown as a person, I've challenged myself. I've spent a semester away from my country. I've learned a lot. But I don't have anything that I can actually show someone. Here, this is what I did as a college student. I don't have a comprehensive body of work, literature or art. As a senior, there's talk about portfolios, graduate applications, job interviews.

Today I overheard my print teacher talking to a student about the Whitney Biennial. They were talking about the art and how it fit into art history, its connections with other contemporary art, the feelings it generated in the viewer. I heard them and I felt left out. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to join in the conversation. I would have nothing to contribute. I feel like I don't really know anything. Like I've spent time just listening but not digesting or interpreting the information I've gathered in my life. I really feel like I"m not where I'm supposed to be. But here's the rub, I don't really know where I"m supposed to be. I don't think it's fair to judge myself based on someone else and what they've accomplished. Maybe its because I haven't done much so I won't actually measure up to anyone that's my age or in my current situation (i.e. soon to be graduating senior). I've been asked to be accountable for my future, my views on life, art, literature, everything. I feel like it's almost asking too much. How can I be accountable for all that information? I don't know what I'm doing in the future. I mean, not in any real meaningful way. I "know" what I'll be doing for the next year or so. We'll say two years. After that? I have no idea. I'm supposed to grow up and work like a real adult.

I don't know what this means. I just know that I'm tired. I'm tired of calling mediocrity high caliber work.