I rock at rocks.

This is my recent attempt at being hip with culture.  Welcome to the world little Potato Sankara Stone!

Thank you Jackson!

Rocker or Posers? CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE!

Upcoming show:



Brooklyn Artists Gym presents
Rockers & Posers
BAG Gallery
May 22 - June 5
Opening Reception: May 31, 6:00-9:00pm

The Rockers & Posers show features contemporary artists focusing their talent on portraits. Media represented in this group show include video, photography, illustration, painting, sculpture, ceramics, printmaking and alternative media.

Brooklyn Artists Gym
168 7th Street, 3rd floor
(between 2nd and 3rd Avenue)
F to 4th Avenue, or the R to the 9th Street
718.858.9069
Brooklyn, NY 11215

http://www.brooklynartistsgym.com/showRockersPosers2008.html



And just for those keeping track, here is a list of things I currently want but cannot have: sewing machine, mac mighty mouse, dark crystal dvd, pastries, my momma, summer haircut I love, kitchenaid mixer, more books, someone to mount my photos for me, time to bike, outdoor sleeping space, and antique music box.

Check back later.

black day

Rauschenberg is dead. I don't know quite what to do with myself. I am sad.

Slightly Hypocritical Thought’s On Blogging, and Why Were Are the Most Fearful and Vulnerable Generation Yet

This entry will be titiled:

"Slightly Hypocritical Thought’s On Blogging, and Why Were Are the Most Fearful and Vulnerable Generation Yet." 

or

"When You Drive Alone, You Drive With Ghosty Hitler"

In modern times with digital pictures, audio recording, and other tools to document every little aspect of life (perhaps even blogging), our identity has become closely linked with how well we can document it.  Modern thought has its influence on this: if you can’t prove it with a picture, you are apt to be doubted in your claim of catching anything bigger than a 5 lb fish.  But I believe over-documentation, and the world of empirical proof have fostered a fear of forgetting.  If we cannot produce the physical, literal evidence of our being somewhere, what’s to say we ever went?  Technology, combined with the move from modern thought to postmodern thought has resulted in our fear of forgetting, or worse, being forgotten.

This fear extends into public art and policy.  The general populations compulsion to memorialize anyone and erect monuments to everything come from a deep-seated belief that if they do not force people to remember, not one will.  Particularly surrounding the war and our contemporary climate of terror, “Never Forget”, and “Remember the Sacrifice” seem to have replaced, “Loose Lips Sink Ships” “Food Is a Weapon, Don’t Waste It.”  Instead of advice on how to do our part in the fight we are all fighting, contemporary slogans try and remind (or convince) is why we are fighting.

To be fair, I recall “Remember the Alamo,” but not what I am supposed to remember about it.

I’m not sure what this fear and compulsion say about us as an American people, but I’m saddened that we are afraid of our failing memories, and the inability to transmit real love and respect through oral tradition.  Think back to all the sci-fi movies that warn about trusting too much knowledge that otherwise would be in our brains, to outside sources.  Or even teen novel The Giver.  Let’s not get lazy people.  Remember “You Can’t Beat the Axis if You’ve Got VD.”



PS: I got into a group show at the Brooklyn Artist Gym called "Rockers and Posers". Sounds fun, right? Go me! More information to come. And yes, I am aware that I didn't post anything on here about the last show at NYCAMS," Who Lost This Piece of Paper?" Images forthcoming. Promise.

Generational

I am standing on my mother, and she is standing on my grandmother. My great grandmother can not longer breath under the eighteen of us. I do not know her mother.

Hello, Kitty.

I have been feeling terribly desperate lately, in the whole range of areas to feel desperate in. From jobs, to work, to men. It’s just really no good. So here’s today’s hope: To drink deeply from the cup, and not grasp wildly at straws.

I went for a walk in the sun today to photograph widows and orphans. Here’s one of my favorites:

xox

I’VE HAD A BABY!  Well, to be more accurate, I’ve had a baby vomit on me.  I have recently become the part-time caregiver to a three-month-old.  Who would have predicted?  (Or allowed?)

Some thoughts for the day:

I am broken.
I am remade better.
I don’t need the cardboard sleeve on my coffee, which means my hands are calloused enough to protect my nerves.  It’s some sign of hard work.