Wednesday, June 24, 2009

what if...

What if I collected litter from the city's streets, washed it, ground it to pulp and used it to make home made paper that I then did little prints on and sold as cool stationary...

What if I did paintings that explored only non-fiction events using images from those events and a sort of "historical imagination" that supplied the emotional tone...

What if, on my daily walk to work, I took photos and when I got home that night made a painting using those photos as source material. I could do one every day, or pick the best from the week and make one a week...

What if it were possible to position artwork outside of the umbrella of modern cultural perspective to examine the values of collective memory...essentially, mimetics as a motivating art theory, what would that look like...

anything? anybody? I'm dying here.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Knickerbocker Holiday

They are rehearsing for Knickerbocker Holiday in the other room and singing one of my favorite songs. Here it is sung rather etherially by Ms. Garland.

A gem

The next time you're in New York, you have to make it a point to visit The Cloisters (this is a link to their blog). It's the branch of The Met that houses their medieval art collection (from about the year 500 CE to 1500 CE) and the building itself if made up of pieces of abbys, chapels, monestaries and the odd apse or two. It's really a unique little get-away spot nestled in Fort Tryon park with spectacular views of the Hudson (all thanks to Mr. John D. Rockefeller Jr.)

Evan and I embraced the rain and trecked the 150ish blocks (well, we took the A train) to Fort Tryon Park. The park was beautiful in the misty drizzle and we ambled through the dewey heather gardens immersing ourselves in the aromas of lavendar and lupin. The Cloisters itself is probably more spectacular when the weather is nicer, but the rain kept the tourists at bay, so for much of the day it felt very private and secluded. As we were leaving Evan looked at me and said "The Cloisters, what a gem." I completely agree.

When you go, don't miss the Merode Altarpiece.

Friday, June 19, 2009

sometimes i scribble poems in my notebook

here are two (i'm totally blowing up the blog today):

ask not of me your questions
dear scarecrow
you've been away
too many dog years long
tales told and tongues wagged.
The leash yanked
by too many masters
and shed
and brushed off
the carpet
that we bought
for half price
or maybe inherited
from Aunt Linda

I travel the tracks
they clack bang
rumbling with 10:30 hunger
so many people
don't see it happen
don't smell the perfume
don't know cologne.
If harmony's prize was finally won,
would it really be as nice
as checking the mail,
waiting for it to come?


What if
we could love
the way we hoped
not just
the way things happened:
justifiedly cruel
in its raving madness
of slamming doors
and throaty screams
dreaming of self
that can't be demolished
by running away,
that isn't afraid of
dark alleys,
of getting burnt
by 100 watt bulbs
swinging in the smoke.
What if hearts
didn't need covert cover
didn't speak in code
or throw their gang signs-
forboding and forbidden.
If we never waiting
with baited breath
for answers to questions ne'er asked
would/could we hope for the best
or still expect the worst?

Now I need advice

I'm just putting this out there in the ether--

I'm in the beginning stages of a quarter life crisis, and I'm trying to head it off at the pass.

I'll be 25 in 3 months and I still dont know what I want to do with my life. Now, I'm very good friends with some very smart people who also dont know what they want to do with their lives but we are all the kind of people that just take joy in being alive and experiencing the small things together.

Then I look around, and realize that as I walk to work everyday there are people younger than me walking by me on the street and they just look more successful, they seem more purposed. I have college friends who have been on Broadway, have worked for the President, have done things I've dreamt of doing and I'm not jealous per se I just dont know why I cant get myself together.

I was always encouraged to do something that made me happy with my life, and I've come to see that as bad advice. You should do something you're good at, or something that makes a lot of money, something that gives you freedom somehow, but happiness can be found in a really good tomato, or a lovely piece of string--you dont need it at work.

That said, I want to do something that makes peoples lives better. I dont care what it is really. Does anyone know what I'd be good at? Do I? and why do I have the sneaking sense that none of what I want will come from that pile of art supplies in my apartment. ugh.

My friendly advice to one unfriendly superintendant...

This is what I sent her...

Dear Ms. Lukas,

I am sure that you have received many e-mails of late pertaining to the very unfortunate incidents which surrounded the graduation of the class of 2009. The intent of this note is not to admonish you for what you have done, but to urge you to reconsider your decision and issue and immediate statement of apology to Justin Denney, his family and the entire district for the series of mistakes you have made in denying that young man his diploma.

To say it plainly, you don’t have the right to deny him his education because you weren't the only one to give it to him. My elementary school principal, Joyce Freeman, was fond of saying "it takes a village to raise a child," and she was right. It took Mr. Denney thirteen years of hard work and dedication to reach that moment of graduating from high school (far longer than you've been superintendant, I might add) and because of some foolish sense of pride or vanity you have denied him one of the most triumphant moments in his young life. Public education is bigger than one person. The successes of those students belong to the whole community, and if they make mistakes it is because we have not given them the tools to make good decisions.

However, we both know that Justin didn't make a mistake that day. We both know he was expressing his joy in a moment of triumph. Yes, there were rowdy students--there were antics at my high school graduation, I'm certain there were antics at yours--but the intent of school is not to raise an army of robots. I know for a fact that any silliness that happened at any of the graduations I’ve been in (or to) was just in good fun, an expression of camaraderie and friendship--one last hurrah. Those kids should be entitled to that, and if you embraced their joy instead of fostering their resentment, they would tell stories about you to their grandchildren. They would take that special relationship and spread it around the world and that would be your legacy. You haven't done that--but you still can. Please, I urge you, give the boy his diploma, be the adult here, and let’s put this in the long forgotten past.

Best of luck to you and the class of '09,

Jeb Knight
BEHS class of '02

I've since learned that Justin will get his diploma, thankfully. It's come to my understanding that the atmosphere in my old high school has gone from bad to worse and the administration has decided to blame and punish the students. This, of course, only fosters a greater feeling of resentment between students and educators and worsens an already poor learning environment. I feel for the students who want to excell but are lumped in with the lowest common denominator. I wont pretend to know how to solve it, and I dont hardly expect schools to raise our children for us, but there must be something very wrong for something as innapropriate as this to occur.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Bonny Eagle graduation critics will get a hearing | Portland Press Herald

Bonny Eagle graduation critics will get a hearing Portland Press Herald

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Did you see this nonsense? Sometimes I want to become an educator in order to prevent stuff like this, of course it's important to note that none of this was done by actual teachers. They're too busy working to have their heads this far up their asses.

I'll show you what I sent her later.