Life (or something along those lines).

It's been just about a month and a half since I graduated from college and in that time I've felt like there has been this enormous shift in the way I percieve where I'm at in my life. In this month and a half I've seen three friends get married. One to her military husband who is just shipping out for a year, one to a guy she only met 4 months ago but swears that it was meant to be, and one to her high school sweetheart. I've also seen the birth of a baby boy to two people I knew back in high school (they were married last year). All of these milestones- these life changing events-  have really lead me to consider where I'm at- Mentally. Emotionally. Physically.

Metephorically?

Literally?

(Maybe... I don't know.)-

on this linear timeline that is my life.

I see people around me making these major life choices and I can't help but think that it's all insane. Absolutely loony. You have your whole life to do these things (or roughly until your 40s if you want to get technical on the kids thing) but you're only young now. Or maybe I'm the insane one. Maybe I should be ready for all of this too. Of course I want to do these things eventually. (In fact, I've become much more agreeable to the idea of marriage in this small chunk of time.) But not now. Not while I'm so young.

Now, I want to travel. I want to go half way across the world to see and experience a culture that is nothing like my own. I want to go to Costa Rica and learn how to surf and re-introduce myself to the Spanish language. I want to wander down roads in Europe somewhere. I want to go camping in the Grand Canyon and stay up to watch the sunrise because I'm sure there is nothing comparable to the moment the sun peaks over the plateaus.

And I want to live a little recklessly (just a little). I want to try sky diving. I want to know what it's really like to budget and making sure the rent gets paid on time. I want to decide that I'd like a change of scenery, pick up and then move to another place. I want to go out one night, stay out late, have too much to drink and then have to wake up and go into work the next morning. I want to make mistakes and then I want to learn from them.

And I want to continue learning. Go to grad school. Find a job that makes me feel good about what I'm doing. Continue evolving. Sell a painting simply because someone liked what I painted. Read. I want to read a lot.
I have a lot of plans ahead of me.

Another dream.

It happened again. Another dream. This one was so bad that it actually woke me up around 5:30 and I had to really push myself to try and go back to sleep. I don't know if that's ever really happened before. I can't remember everything this time. Only the parts that carried over after I fell back asleep.

I was in a house. I'm not so certain where but if what I remember of the layout is right then I think it was my childhood friend's house. There were a lot of people that I knew there as well. But that's all I can tell you about that. Something happens and then my teeth start the process of loosening and then coming out in pieces. It's an absolutely indescribable feeling. I'm standing there in horror wondering how and why this is happening.

Everyone around me is going about their own business and I'm trying not to draw attention to myself. My mouth is full of broken teeth and blood. So much blood that I can't even talk for fear of people finding out. And when it gets to be too much, I hold my hands to my mouth and blood and pieces of teeth just spill out into cupped palms. It's terrifying and I feel myself starting to lose control over my emotions and then, in that moment, I wake up.

Not really though. I'm still dreaming but it's a layered dream- a dream within a dream. I realize this immediately, check my mouth and begin to feel better because at least in this dream I have all of my teeth. Then, somehow I find myself falling back into the previous dream. I'm losing consciousness and immediately I am back where I was before, hands gripping my mouth as teeth and gum and blood are seeping through my fingers.

That's when I lose it completely because I know now that this is a dream. I scream and thrash around trying to find the bathroom. Everyone there is beginning to pay attention to me but I don't even notice because I'm so far lost in my terror and rage. I make it to the bathroom and begin pulling the remnants of my teeth and gums from my mouth all the while trying to convince myself that it's a dream and I need to wake up.

The next thing I realize is that I'm pulling myself from unconsciousness- literally fighting to get out of the dream. I've never done that before. It was a strange feeling to force myself awake. Even after I wake up I can still feel the grittiness in my mouth. It's enough to have me sit up, the need to get my breathing back to a functioning level being a top priority. Then I check my mouth.  I'm glad my roommate was off campus this night because I think this would have absolutely woken her up.

I don't know what to think of these recurring dreams. There are times when I think I've final gotten to a point where I can understand their significance and then the whole situation changes and I'm left with nothing but the uneasy knowledge that these are going to keep happening but no reasons why.

Rationality(?)

This last week in my Contemporary Art class we were listening to student presentations on various artists that pertain to this time period. One particular presentation struck a cord with me... not because I admired the artist's work (completely the opposite, I didn't find him to be credible at all). And, I apologize because I don't even remember this artist's name. EDIT: I looked it up, the artist is Anthony Falbo. It's (still) not important, not really. Instead, I am more interested in the reasons behind the student's decision to present on Falbo.

It's pretty safe to say he paints images with a religious context. They're mostly poorly done cubist-esque images of Bible stories. And we find out that the student presenting the work is very religious (apart of some new aged Christian sect that claims tolerance and love for everyone, etc.) However, she isn't presenting Falbo's work because she likes it... no. Actually, while she's in front of the class, she is fuming. And it's all because of this:

Adam and Steve

It's pretty funny. I think the image in question is probably one of the only remotely successful pieces he has. Maybe it's because the image is eliciting such a strong reaction? Maybe it has to do with my overwhelming contempt for Christianity? Who knows.

So, she goes through her presentation and when she's done she asks the class if we wanted to share our opinions on the matter. And right there a red flag goes up in my mind because she isn't really asking for an opinion out of curiosity. I can hear it in her voice, in the way it's slightly shaky. No, she's pissed and she's looking for others to either be outraged with her or nothing at all. Naturally, to avoid a shit show that would undoubtedly ensue, I keep my mouth shut.

But this whole thing leads me to my ultimate... point? Question? Something, I'm not sure. I just can't understand why people will constantly bring up the topic of religion and say that they'd like to discuss it objectively. Clearly, that is not the case 98% of the time. People instantly get defensive. Then they get offensive and begin attacking everything you say. There is no rationality in any conversation concerning religion.

Is it even possible to have a rational debate over something so completely irrational? Maybe it will forever be an oxymoron.... a rational religious debate. Who knows?

Or maybe it's all me. Am I being irrational? I've asked myself that a number of times. Still haven't come to a conclusion. OH well, point is- if anyone would like to try discussing religion rationally with me, I'd love the opportunity :)

Ps- Here's a link to Falbo's website if you're interested. Please enjoy the 70s porno music and weird tooth art as well.

So it's a surreal feeling.

Completely. I don't really know how to feel about it all. My senior exhibition-- the one that we so tirelessly stressed out over throughout this entire semester-- has come to a close. 5 in 4 had it's opening reception last Friday. That's it. I'm done.

Like I said... Surreal.

Here is a copy of my artist statement that I used for the show:

I’m interested in people— in race, nationality, gender, age, belief systems, etc. and how all of these things can affect and dictate human behaviors and interactions. And how our impressions of others can be altered based upon any given situation.

This particular body of work is a personal exploration and attempt at understanding humans and the reasons we act and react with violence. I’ve begun questioning the role of violence. Is it senseless? Or is it unfortunate means to a more promising end? It’s an ongoing internal debate.

The toy soldiers are motifs in my work that have constantly evolved over the years as I continue to explore the possibilities they seem to offer. The earliest works were simple still lives meant to highlight the interchangeability of these figurines and human beings, making parallels between staged battle scenes and real life war. Then I began to contextualize these battle scenes by superimposing them onto newspaper articles and current events. Most recently, I have begun to move away from the actual toy figurine and started developing this concept of a toy soldier shell. This is a shell that can envelop a person and ultimately turn them into these lifeless plastic toys. Conversely, when you pull away bits and pieces you are revealing the human being beneath the shell.

The majority of my work in this exhibition is informed by the ongoing conflicts in Northern Africa and the Middle East.

It's not finished. It's nowhere near where I'd like it to be but I think it's a good start.

Some images of my work:



Peacekeepers, mixed media on paper





Man, charcoal and oil on paper

Soldier, charcoal and oil on paper





Open Fire, mixed media on paper





Deflection, mixed media on paper



An update of sorts.

These days I've become really focused on my work which is a refreshing change of pace considering the funk I've been in since the beginning of the semester. Everything I've been working on up until this point has been me just going through the motions, just doing something- anything- to keep me connected to the studio. And I'll admit I've gotten a few decent pieces out of this method of working but none of them are related to the body of work I'd like to show in the senior exhibition.

But as I've said, I have finally gotten my mind and energy back on track. And I've also been able to branch out and make some pieces that are out of the realms of my normal paintings (which, I've come to realize, is really important for me). I need to be able to get my hands in as many media as I can in order to be fully happy with the work I'm producing. So now, instead of just showing paintings, I have prints and book forms that I'm really excited to show. 

I hope this new found energy and drive won't fade. I need this to get me through the rest of this semester. April 29th. That's our reception. Installation is earlier that week. It's getting close.

It's been awhile.

These past few nights have brought an insurmountable number of absurd dreams that move so quickly it's hard to keep up with whats going on. There is one that always returns though, tucked away between the ridiculous almost as an afterthought, and every time it gets a little more graphic and unsettling.

Last night in particular was pretty bad.

I remember being incredibly thirsty so I get myself a glass of iced water and begin drinking it through a straw. It was the most refreshing water I've ever had so I continue to refill my glass and continue to drink. And then somehow I realize that I'm dreaming- that this glass of water isn't real- and I've never felt so disappointed with myself.

It changes and I'm suddenly on a balcony- I think it's the deck from my old home- that's overlooking the water. I'm fishing and so I cast my line and wait a moment. Then I notice that I've hooked something and glance down at the reel, stare at it for a moment and then pick it up to try and reel the fish in. It's a struggle but then I realize the fish is gone and when I finally reel the line completely in there is nothing but seaweed on the hook.

Then it changes and I realize that I'm in my old daycare home. Downstairs there is an exhibition going on and there are a lot of different people- students maybe- and there is someone walking them through and explaining why each piece is a good work of art. I want to join them but that's when it happens.

I feel my tooth come loose and I pull it out. There is a moment of panic and that's when I start to become lucid and tell myself that's it's not real- it's a dream and there is nothing to freak out about. But then I feel more teeth start to loosen and I rush to the bathroom and start pulling them out. And as more and more come out- and they begin to come out in layers now, prolonging the process- I begin to panic again. I thought this was a dream but it's still happening and I can't think properly because I keep pulling bits and pieces of my teeth and gums from my mouth and nothing is changing and I think to myself that this is actually happening this time.

And then the dream probably changes again but I'm too upset at this point to really pay attention. There's no sense of relief.

I've been having this teeth dream since freshman year. It comes and goes. I think that I have a handle on it and then it morphs and my subconscious seems to have the upper hand once again. I don't know what to really make of it.