1997, I took an art class during summer school. The teacher, who also substitute-taught and ran the day care, taught us how to draw [Aryan] facial and bodily proportions. She included pencils, chalk pastels, oil pastels and watercolors in the class, which took place in the school library so we could copy pictures out of books. I soaked it up, combining parts of pictures to create something new and experimenting with perspective. Our final project was to draw something in chalk pastels on a large sheet of butcher paper.
In the 70's, my mother took a remedial painting class. Her high-quality acrylics and paintbrushes sat in a tacklebox under a spare bed those 20+ years. On the backside of that butcher paper, I glued down sections that I had cut out from a floral Tiffany calendar and then painted the rest: a flowery landscape with an ocean, mountains in the distance and a sunset/rise. At 11 years of age, I did this completely on my own.
Immediately after finishing my first painting, I, with permission, painted a mural of a vivid sunset on my bedroom wall. Cobalt, navy blue and indigo clouds lined with bright red highlights from the marigold sun. My cousin took notice of my newfound love of art and began taking me to a figure drawing studio. She wholeheartedly supported my passion and still does today.
When I first began painting, my mother asked me "how do you know where to put what color?"
Around that time, my half-sister gave me annual membership to the Art Institute of Chicago for a couple years. This is an incredible gift to anyone, particularly a child. In addition to free visits to the Art Institute, a monthly magazine was mailed out - I held onto these for many years, my only access to color photos of artwork at home. However, my mother never took me there as it was "too far," "too expensive" and "dangerous." I really wish now that I had snuck out and gone myself, as the subway route from her house to the Art Institute is so direct and safe. But as an adult, I made use of my membership by visiting about 15 times a year!
In that summer school class, each student had a sketchbook and we were all assigned to draw certain things each week to demonstrate what we had learned - facial features, expressions, different ways of shading, etc. I still have it, filled with both assignments and my own creations. And ever since then, I've always had a sketchbook - probably the artist's greatest tool.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Monday, December 17, 2012
Barefoot Disney Princesses
Finally watched Brave last night and realized that Merida is the most recent Disney "princess" to be shown barefoot. Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Wendy, (is Alice shown barefoot? She's not a princess but she's an animated Disney leading lady), Maid Marian, Eilonwy, Ariel, Jasmine, Pocahontas, Esmerelda, Jane, Mulan, Megara, Lilo, Kida, Tiana, Rapunzel and now Merida. Belle is the only one who isn't.
Each one is shown barefoot in relation to being either lower-class (Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Tiana, Jane, Esmerelda, Lilo, Mulan Pocahontas, Ariel, etc.) and/or ass-kicking (Maid Marian, Eilonwy, Jasmine, Megara, Kida, Rapunzel, Merida). To be shown barefoot generally, though, is a sign of vulnerability - Wendy is the only one who emphasizes this. Some would even call it sexual.
It just seems strange to me that there would be this trend. Whether it's to make the animation more simple or more creative, I couldn't say. I'm just curious as to why, and why Belle (and Alice?) are the only ones who aren't shown barefoot.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Galena, IL and Sexual Fantasies
A native Chicagoan, I’ve been taking trips to Galena IL my entire
life. It’s a gorgeous rural territory, rolling hills with elegant
cottages and very few people. I came here with either parent at least
once a year until Feb 2007, my last visit. Life (monogamous
relationships in which selfless maintenance took place of self-love)
just got in the way. The birthdays of my lover and I, though, are very
close to each other and as we now live 200 miles apart, we agreed to
come/cum here..
As a child, I was a near-constant daydreamer. Inner fantasies kept me going and 99% of them took place in Galena. This wasn’t an intentional decision, my mind just settled here. Upon puberty, my daydreams became more erotic. Most of my imaginary stories involved overly dramatic, highly romantic sexcapades there. I figured that these would someday become my honeymoon, as I’d certainly keep myself clean until marriage XP
And now I’m actually having my Galena sex vacation. The resort doesn’t ooze seduction, but the relaxing atmosphere and utter seclusion welcome it. And our cottage has a jacuzzi! This actual sex vacation doesn’t line up at all with my adolescent daydreams, mostly because there’s no interest in marriage and we don’t look like actors in early 90’s music videos (think Total Eclipse of the Heart and I Would Do Anything For Love). Fantasies, not just a teenager’s, rarely involve emergency runs to the general store or watching South Park when you’re exhausted from sex or wet willy wars - unless you’re into that kind of thing. Those imagined stories wouldn’t be as great in real life anyway, as it’s much more romantic to imagine someone who would do anything only for your smile/orgasm than to actually deal with such a person in real life. Fantasy serves its purpose, arguably because it’s unrealistic, but this trip has been absolutely incredible even with reality :)
As a child, I was a near-constant daydreamer. Inner fantasies kept me going and 99% of them took place in Galena. This wasn’t an intentional decision, my mind just settled here. Upon puberty, my daydreams became more erotic. Most of my imaginary stories involved overly dramatic, highly romantic sexcapades there. I figured that these would someday become my honeymoon, as I’d certainly keep myself clean until marriage XP
And now I’m actually having my Galena sex vacation. The resort doesn’t ooze seduction, but the relaxing atmosphere and utter seclusion welcome it. And our cottage has a jacuzzi! This actual sex vacation doesn’t line up at all with my adolescent daydreams, mostly because there’s no interest in marriage and we don’t look like actors in early 90’s music videos (think Total Eclipse of the Heart and I Would Do Anything For Love). Fantasies, not just a teenager’s, rarely involve emergency runs to the general store or watching South Park when you’re exhausted from sex or wet willy wars - unless you’re into that kind of thing. Those imagined stories wouldn’t be as great in real life anyway, as it’s much more romantic to imagine someone who would do anything only for your smile/orgasm than to actually deal with such a person in real life. Fantasy serves its purpose, arguably because it’s unrealistic, but this trip has been absolutely incredible even with reality :)
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Painting Consistency
Summer '98, I picked up the paintbrush and
acrylics that had been in my mother's storage for decades and just
started painting. No prompts, no education, I just began painting.
That's the only consistent thing between my life then and now.
My goal, until late college, was to marry and have children. As a 12 year old in an extremist parish, it was expected that I would marry within six years and then have a baby less than two years after that. Travel, feminism, higher education, writing, etc. didn't fit into any of that. If I could tell my self fourteen years ago about my life now, she would be terribly disappointed and shocked at my independence. It took breaking ties with unhealthy, abusive people to understand personal control, self-reliance and self-love.
Painting would be the only thing of my life now that would please my 12 year old self. It all started with random experimentation. I found that I was able to communicate things that can't be put into words, though my reading and writing were already at a 12th grade level. And I did it for myself. Kept alone indoors whenever I wasn't in school, this was a way of making my inner world come alive. That hasn't changed, though it's a way of communicating with both others and myself rather than primarily as a means of self-soothing escape. My 12 year old self would be thrilled that I have a bachelor's in art and that I create almost daily.
My second painting, a mural in my bedroom. No prompting, no reference, I came up with this completely on my own:
My goal, until late college, was to marry and have children. As a 12 year old in an extremist parish, it was expected that I would marry within six years and then have a baby less than two years after that. Travel, feminism, higher education, writing, etc. didn't fit into any of that. If I could tell my self fourteen years ago about my life now, she would be terribly disappointed and shocked at my independence. It took breaking ties with unhealthy, abusive people to understand personal control, self-reliance and self-love.
Painting would be the only thing of my life now that would please my 12 year old self. It all started with random experimentation. I found that I was able to communicate things that can't be put into words, though my reading and writing were already at a 12th grade level. And I did it for myself. Kept alone indoors whenever I wasn't in school, this was a way of making my inner world come alive. That hasn't changed, though it's a way of communicating with both others and myself rather than primarily as a means of self-soothing escape. My 12 year old self would be thrilled that I have a bachelor's in art and that I create almost daily.
My second painting, a mural in my bedroom. No prompting, no reference, I came up with this completely on my own:
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Albuquerque
Milwaukeean originally from Chicago, I'm very interested in moving to Albuquerque next year. Milwaukee's population size is perfect for me, and it's almost the same as Abq's. Low rent on studio apts, good job availability (I'm fine with starting off at a call center until I get more settled), bike friendly and queer friendliness are my priorities. I understand that Abq has terrible drivers, gangs, drugs and a high crime rate...but I've lived 22 years in Chicago. Any advice?
Thursday, October 4, 2012
27
In 11 days I'll turn 27. Despite certain bullshit, the mid 20's aren't that bad. Right after college, everything was awkward and terrible. College drops you right on your ass and you're supposed to be an adult now but you have no money and you don't know what you're doing without some kind of set framework - it sucks. Then things calm down and you can party and figure out what your actual options are.
When I was a kid, I was led to believe that I'd marry before 20, preferably at 16. Once I reached 14 and 15 and not only had no suitors come along, but also my peers told me that I was so ugly that the only way anyone would have sex with me was through rape (they didn't know that this was actually happening at the time). I was distraught, thinking that I was unlovable and had failed my authorities by not fulfilling their mandates.
Once I figured out that marrying by 16 is usually a horrible idea and that my education came first, I set my goal to 28 for both marriage and parenthood. My mother was heartbroken. I'd find a monogamous partner, we'd have fun and explore the world, we'd gradually intertwine our lives codependently, then we'd marry and have kids. After a few attempts at this, it finally dawned on me that monogamy is not for me and codependency nauseates me. Marriage and parenthood hold no appeal.
Although I shed all age-related goals and my personal wants have changed dramatically - they may again, who knows - that marker of 28 still holds significance. It was an arbitrary choice: I watched Friends and thought it was what normal young adult life was like and they were all around 28, right? Nevertheless, onwards to another year of adventure!
When I was a kid, I was led to believe that I'd marry before 20, preferably at 16. Once I reached 14 and 15 and not only had no suitors come along, but also my peers told me that I was so ugly that the only way anyone would have sex with me was through rape (they didn't know that this was actually happening at the time). I was distraught, thinking that I was unlovable and had failed my authorities by not fulfilling their mandates.
Once I figured out that marrying by 16 is usually a horrible idea and that my education came first, I set my goal to 28 for both marriage and parenthood. My mother was heartbroken. I'd find a monogamous partner, we'd have fun and explore the world, we'd gradually intertwine our lives codependently, then we'd marry and have kids. After a few attempts at this, it finally dawned on me that monogamy is not for me and codependency nauseates me. Marriage and parenthood hold no appeal.
Although I shed all age-related goals and my personal wants have changed dramatically - they may again, who knows - that marker of 28 still holds significance. It was an arbitrary choice: I watched Friends and thought it was what normal young adult life was like and they were all around 28, right? Nevertheless, onwards to another year of adventure!
Monday, August 27, 2012
Tumbleweed
Anyone who's ever watched Looney Toons and other hokey children's cartoons are probably familiar with scenes in which a small tumbleweed rolls across the scene to signify boredom. The visual equivalent of crickets chirping, a tumbleweed emphasizes the emptiness of what's happening.
In real life, small tumbleweeds like that, about the size of a basketball, roll around so long as there is a slight breeze and/or slope. Fullgrown tumbleweeds, however, can grow to the size of a pickup truck, and it takes powerful gusts to roll them across the landscape.
Tumbleweeds are actually trees with very shallow roots. Their branches grow very low to the ground and in a round shape, holding in thousands of seeds. When the wind is strong enough, the tree dislodges from its spot and rolls across the landscape and the seeds scatter - kamikaze propagation. Larger tumbleweeds can cause terrible destruction in high winds, as rolling dries out these trees and they shatter explosively upon impact.
A tumbleweed will see many remarkable things on its travels across the desert, only to continue the cycle of shallow roots and self-destroying reproduction. Would one come to rest on rock rather than sandy soil, the cycle would be broken.
In real life, small tumbleweeds like that, about the size of a basketball, roll around so long as there is a slight breeze and/or slope. Fullgrown tumbleweeds, however, can grow to the size of a pickup truck, and it takes powerful gusts to roll them across the landscape.
Tumbleweeds are actually trees with very shallow roots. Their branches grow very low to the ground and in a round shape, holding in thousands of seeds. When the wind is strong enough, the tree dislodges from its spot and rolls across the landscape and the seeds scatter - kamikaze propagation. Larger tumbleweeds can cause terrible destruction in high winds, as rolling dries out these trees and they shatter explosively upon impact.
A tumbleweed will see many remarkable things on its travels across the desert, only to continue the cycle of shallow roots and self-destroying reproduction. Would one come to rest on rock rather than sandy soil, the cycle would be broken.
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