Hearts Farts

I receive emails daily about events, news, and savings from various businesses I subscribe to so that I can somehow justify spending money as long as I get something for a ridiculous bargain. And then I love to brag about it. However, today, January 5, 2009, I already received an email exclaiming super duper savings for Valentine's Day! Yippee... I can get some sexy see-through crotchless panties for 25% off, a whole loving month before I ?need? them. Better jump on that.

Now, I understand that we're all getting a lot more desperate to save these days, but I hadn't even fully recovered from celebrating the new year before I was bombarded with the arrival of the next nationally recognized Hallmark holiday. Seriously, WHY? do we even bother anymore? What has made these holidays remarkably unique, sincere, or fulfilling? Isn't gift giving supposed to give you joy? At this point, it seems wherever you go, the inevitable reign of consumerism is all that surrounds you. Another reminder that you'll soon be obligated to buy a meaningless object for someone you probably resent or are trying to impress. You cannot buy love or acceptance. And it doesn't come in the form of chocolates, flowers, or dumb ass heart-holding teddy bears. Now, *diamonds* are another story, but I digress... When you work as hard for the money as we all do these days, isn't it enough to just have each other? Or, I don't know -- to MAKE something for someone else?

Enough already! Take a break from all the overspending by challenging the ever present marketing schemes that tell us "to buy is to love!" And PLEASE: Resist the urge to paint everything in garish and pukey pale shades of red and pink! It's not flattering.

An Open Letter to the Windy City

Dear Chicago,
I'm writing to you because I want you to know how I feel about you and I didn't think it would be appropriate to put it any other way. I thought about texting you, but there's too much to say, and I wanted you to comprehend my sincerity. I'd call you, but even though it's the weekend, my cellphone plan doesn't have the amount of minutes it would take to accurately describe what you've meant to me. Yes, it's that deep.
When I met you, I was on the cusp of a pivotal transition in my life. I was just about to complete my undergraduate academic career and I knew that I was ready to experience something outside of the comfort and security of my birthplace. You showed me a new world of opportunity and a place to advance myself personally and professionally. I remember thinking how incredible you were. You seemed to have everything. And I wanted everything.
Since we've been together, and having made a few trips back to North Miami Beach, FL (what they do), I've realized many things about our relationship. I put a lot of pressure on you. I've spent the past year trying to figure you out. Sometimes I wonder about your intentions, but I've enjoyed your company immensely and I have a lot of fun with you. We play around a lot, but I want you to know I'm serious about you. We've gone through so many things together, so many ups and downs. OMG, We're even going to see a hometown hero as President!
You're definitely different from anything I've ever experienced before and I'm trying to accept just who you are. I get frustrated sometimes when you don't understand me or where I'm coming from, but I'm appreciative that you give me the chance to express it anyway.
I'll be happy to see you again, even though you might be cold to me. I'm kind of looking forward to it... Actually, I'm really looking forward to it. I can't wait to hear you say you'll be with me another year. See you soon.

Yours Truly,
Anna G.

Cornered

I went to the Museum of Contemporary Art today (Target FREE Tuesdays-- whew!) and had the great opportunity to view one of my favorite artists' pieces. Adrian Piper, one of the most important artists and scholars in contemporary art and philosophy, created a video installation in the late 80s called "Cornered", which is a confrontation with the viewer about racial identity. Piper's video is a 16 minute monologue of her reciting her proclamation of being black. With a consistently calm and pleasant tone of voice, she expresses her point of view as identifying herself as black but also questions the viewer's reactions to her statement. Much of her performance refers to the viewer's personal responsibility and reaction to the realization of their black ancestry and racial identity. She challenges the viewer by injecting wonder about social reasoning for the acceptance or denial of the outcome of the question of their racial identity. She unloads many assumptions associated with identifying as black, and what that means to others or the public when it is announced.
The impact the work has in its physical space in the museum setting is immeasurable. The video is placed in the corner of the room and in front of a section of chairs, much like a small lecture group. In this setting, the audience has the opportunity to sit and reflect bold interrogations made by Piper, and are subject to her forceful assignment of self exploration. The environment in the museum makes the piece affective in many ways. The void of her physical presence restrains her subjects from engaging in discussion. Those who take an interest usually engage in quiet contemplation but are also visibly intrigued by the artist's accusations. The absence of the actual person or speaker also allows for uninterested or people made uncomfortable by her accusations to leave without disturbing the presenter. They, in turn, become part of the performance wherein Piper presupposes that there will be some people who are disturbed by her presentation or more so the reality of confronting their racial identity.
If you are able, I recommend going to the MCA to see this intriguing art piece. If not, here is a link to the video I found online: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-6756190809617046211

moving day

Got my own studio (finally!) at the South Campus and it feels artgasmic. I did a little inaugural dance on the first day, and I'm just in awe of how far I've come. I have a lot of work to do, but I am happy with where I am.

This morning a fellow student was in an art rutt and I can remember how it was for me, and I'm sad for him. I wish I could use all the poetic words in the world to be able to lift him up out of his misery, but I know it's something all artists eventually have to go through, especially at the beginning of your academic career.

I have to write an artist's statement for the wall text of my show and it's a lot harder than it may seem.