n. infantile pattern of suckle-swallow movement in which the tongue is placed between incisor teeth or between alveolar ridges during initial stage of swallowing (if persistent can lead to various dental abnormalities) v. [content removed due to Bush campaign to clean up the internet] n. act of nyah-nyah v. pursuing with relentless abandon the need to masticate and thrust the world into every bodily incarnation in order to transform it, via the act of salivation, into nutritive agency

Sunday, November 11, 2007

poster, a very busy week

So, I made a poster yesterday, and I feel mighty proud of it. Indeed. Obviously, you saw one of the rough-draft images in the previous post, which was done in Illustrator... but we've now moved onto InDesign, a layout program that allows you to combine text, images, and illustrator drawings. It's an awesome program and I'm going to have fun with it, I think.

Poster-KenyonIn other news, my life is utterly insane, and I'm going to pull out my hair. No, I'm going to be fine. No, I'm going to leave school utterly destitute and stressed out. No, it'll be great. No, I will fail to produce even a section of the book-project I'm working on. No, life's splendid. No, I will be friendless and desperate, and confused as to what next. No, look at what all you've accomplished. Etc.

Shit, only one more month. I'm panicking, and trying to get my act together about cover letters and applying for work. I don't want to be thinking about that stuff yet, because I have a bunch of school projects, but I'm going to be fundless as I leave school, so...

...so, today I'm going grocery shopping, and then I will write. And then I will read. And then I will write again. Plus I'll send out applications. Yeah, plus.

As for the rest of stuff:

Friday was open studios (in addition to a bunch of other events I wanted to see but couldn't), and so I opened my studio and visited others. It was so nerve-wracking having people be in my studio that I had to leave. But the oddest thing was that lh asked me to put out his buttons - to be given in trade for those who would exchange an "I'm not racist--" statement with him. And almost all of the written responses were very very hostile. Man, there's a bunch of people not willing to consider the correlation between categories such as "racism" and "homophobia." And also a bunch of folks with no sense of humor. I was awed.

Later in the evening was the writing program open mic, and I thought it'd be my last chance to read my work within the school setting, as us December graduators don't get our own reading... but everyone went so overtime with their pieces (sometimes 10-15 minutes) that I didn't get a chance to read. I didn't want to admit it, but I was pissed. I thought it was obvious that in a group-reading setting with 20 people who want to read, 5 minutes is the cap, not the baseline. But apparently it's not obvious.

But I got over my pissiness, made a poster, and last night went to the 50th b-day of one of my former teachers here at SAIC. It was incredibly wild, tons of people, only a few I knew, and a whole room with a disco ball for dancing. And the teach danced up a storm, bare-footed, with red-painted toenails.

Every time I see her, I feel embarrassed for having been such a surly shit when I was advising with her. She just got me at the highest point of my sensitivity about writing, and didn't understand what I was shooting for, which doesn't bother me now that I've had one adviser who understood my general goals, but bothered me then because I thought maybe I was crazy. So, instead of dialoging, I was simply a shit. But she forgave me, I guess, because she is always so sweet...

I had a really good time, danced quite a bit, ate food, talked around a bit, had a couple of fruit martinis and chilled out. All of which will help me do what I need to do today... groceries, writing, reading. groceries, writing, reading. grow celeries, right tea, in reeds ink.
I found my experience with open studios is that you just get a bunch of drunk undergrads (and some grad students) looking for a good time. I had to kick a few out of my studio last year. They were stepping on my things and had to go...

I like the poster.
A good time? How odd, being that the open studios are not exactly a gallery walk nor a party but just a lookaround, yah?

Anyhow, I had no kickouts.

But am feeling like a rustic antiartist (comparable to antichrist) capable of only trying...

since, and I'm meandering, there's a firm distinction between the city art world and what happens outside it, isn't there?

'Cause, I've always known pretty well that I'm smart. Pretty damn capable of meeting whomever on their own terms, even if their terms aren't the same ones I subside upon. Pretty fucking able of intimidating those who need intimidation because they've got their own coccyx trapped between their patellas. Pretty hopeful as to whatisthat we could be going to next...

Reading all the stuff on the downfall of our global environment (which I've know since 8th grade when I had a great biology teacher who made us [16 years ago] compute the economic realities of our oil dependency). Reading all the text-image hybridlikeness, which shouldn't come as any kind of surprise to anyone with anything beyond a stem, so fuck all that.) Reading prose that aspires to poetry, poetry that aspires to nonfiction, and letters that aspire to hope, or essay, or that secret postmodern hope of a space unstaked. Like, you know, I get it.

And disapprove only because. But I'm both wandering in response and looking forward to December when I get to be with my family. My Family. Because I miss them as birds miss the splatter of cement baths taken down.

uh. shooosh.

thanks for liking the poster, ms. I hope I get to make more of em.

yer going back soon to the WA, right? How's it been?
p.s. Um, sorry.

(notice my sheepish grin)

Just fretting about too much.
Apropos of something (i.e., Chicago landscape - love your poster)... apparently Heartfield designed the cover for the German edition of Upton Sinclair's The Jungle - http://www.luminous-lint.com/__sw.php?action=ACT_SING_IM&p1=8744811284778781835604

Der Sumpf! Sumpf! Sumpf! Sumpf!

The to-do list sounds unwieldy and eyelid-high, but I know you will conquer it and round out the year with a lot of amazing things having been finished and newly exciting things/trips/projects getting underway. A pair of shiny spurs for Xmas couldn't hurt, though. Admittedly.

girl, i love having people who believe in me. it's not just love, but all else.

plus, i actually loved your unruly shits.

man, what a bunch of cretins. but I whumpped their little asses, and am very much appreciative that you gave me the opportunity to remind me that... well, if nothing else, I'm certainly enjoy being like, "okay, yeah. how about you stop your sobfictionality and just work a little bit in front of me?"

dude, working for SAIC. what can I say other than I will wear my spurs with complete confindence from here on out...
grammar errors in comments. shit. rrrrrrrrr. ignore.
Yes. I will be back in Seattle mid December.

back in the hood. me too. man, i need it...
I miss you. I'm sorry I haven't called back. I have no hair left. I have no buttons. But hopefully will on November 20th when everything will be finished. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. Come to Colorado. We have alleys and gin here. Please. Please.
i miss you too, jbird. when will i get to hear your swallowsong?
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