So I'm at home, my new home, and I'm spending time alone (for the first time) with JP, one of my new housemates. Now I'm certain I mentioned this before but I'll say it again but I can never remember how much of the running monologue that is my thoughts I actually write down. JP and Niki are married. I suppose I've known them both for a while now. Really I've known Niki for two years; I've known about JP's existence for just as long though I met him maybe a year ago. They are perfect together, at least in my eyes.
Now tonight is just as any other night except that I am spending time alone with JP for the first time. It's not weird, at least not entirely, which kind of surprised me at first. Let me clarify something before I go on; Niki is just out for a while. This little moment in time where it's just JP and I will really only last about two hours-and I am typing this in the middle of that time.
With that said, I have to spend this time writing this as I am thinking it right now. I do feel slightly cliched typing this but here goes: I am so lucky. Here are these amazing people who care about me something akin to the way my family does. Maybe only in a peripheral sense, but they do care about my well-being, care enough to take care of me and offer me a place in their home. To provide me with a launching off point for my future.
I have thought this multiple times in the past several months, but especially in the last two weeks. As I spend more time with them, I just have to smile at their quirks. I mean really, it's just who they are. They make dinner for each other. They sit and budget together. They ask about each other's day. And then they do (almost) all that for me too. Seriously?
So what's prompted this gooey I-love-my-friends post? I don't know. I guess I'm just weird.
JP and I started making dinner at the same time (he's making a shrimp dish-something I am suddenly allergic to, otherwise I'm certain I would have been asked to join). My food, as any other college kids dinners, took about 5 minutes to make and just as long to eat. As I ate and watched JP creepily (something I called the appropriate amount of attention to), he asked me questions, about my day, what I like in KC, normal stuff. I think it's interesting to think that we don't really know much about each other and yet I feel completely at ease with him. I think sometimes there's the feeling that the empty air in the room needs to be filled by talking but I like that I can have a (mostly) comfortable silence with him.
It's different with Niki. We have had those completely comfortable silences together to but she's a person I tell all my shenanigan tales to and she listens without judgment and mostly offers pieces of advice and support. I feel bad (often) because I feel like I don't do a very good job reciprocating those feelings but I am trying to be better at telling the people who matter how much they mean to me (well without coming across as weirdly out of no where or creepy as--which is why I haven't said anything to JP yet, I don't think we're to that point).
Either way, I feel like I am, just as I said, very lucky.
Listen to Falling Into Reverie
Monday, August 2, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
21 Randoms
If we're friends on facebook, you might remember my previous randoms list that occurred while I was in England. I liked it so I'm doing it again.
1. I bite my nails when I'm nervous or stressed out.
2. That being said, once I start, if there's a jagged edge, I can't stop.
3. I am trying to figure out a way to become independently wealthy.
4. I wish I was more talented at art.
5. I don't feel like I'm really good at anything.
6. I love the show Burn Notice because it's exciting and sort of romantic.
7. I loathe the fact that I just wrote "sort of romantic" and meant it.
8. I have an irrational dislike for Kiera Knightly. And Ashton Kutcher (as I've previously mentioned) and a host of other celebrities.
9. I feel like a "typical college grad" meaning I'm pretty sure I don't have any idea what I want to do now...
10. Outside the independently wealthy scheme, that is.
11. I'm afraid that I'll be alone for the rest of my life.
12. Part of me would be ok with that. The other part is certain I am missing out on a lot.
13. These randoms remind me of postsecret except they're not a secret because they're all from me and I told you that.
14. I like watching all the CSI shows. Vegas is the best, and Miami and New York follow nearly neck and neck. I haven't seen enough of New York to make an actual decision about it and Horatio's ridiculous ways are almost too much for me.
15. My favorite kind of photography is black and white with one random color.
16. I am attracted to older men. This is something I am just figuring out about myself.
17. I like beards.
18. Whenever I see a commercial for IHOP, I think about the time I went there with Jacquie and we had a great time, despite not really enjoying our food.
19. I think that KIA commercial with the hamsters is totally weird.
20. I hate packing my lunch for work. I guess I'm just lazy.
21. I'd like to go to New York.
1. I bite my nails when I'm nervous or stressed out.
2. That being said, once I start, if there's a jagged edge, I can't stop.
3. I am trying to figure out a way to become independently wealthy.
4. I wish I was more talented at art.
5. I don't feel like I'm really good at anything.
6. I love the show Burn Notice because it's exciting and sort of romantic.
7. I loathe the fact that I just wrote "sort of romantic" and meant it.
8. I have an irrational dislike for Kiera Knightly. And Ashton Kutcher (as I've previously mentioned) and a host of other celebrities.
9. I feel like a "typical college grad" meaning I'm pretty sure I don't have any idea what I want to do now...
10. Outside the independently wealthy scheme, that is.
11. I'm afraid that I'll be alone for the rest of my life.
12. Part of me would be ok with that. The other part is certain I am missing out on a lot.
13. These randoms remind me of postsecret except they're not a secret because they're all from me and I told you that.
14. I like watching all the CSI shows. Vegas is the best, and Miami and New York follow nearly neck and neck. I haven't seen enough of New York to make an actual decision about it and Horatio's ridiculous ways are almost too much for me.
15. My favorite kind of photography is black and white with one random color.
16. I am attracted to older men. This is something I am just figuring out about myself.
17. I like beards.
18. Whenever I see a commercial for IHOP, I think about the time I went there with Jacquie and we had a great time, despite not really enjoying our food.
19. I think that KIA commercial with the hamsters is totally weird.
20. I hate packing my lunch for work. I guess I'm just lazy.
21. I'd like to go to New York.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
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
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
Monday, June 14, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
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?
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?
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