State of the Artistic Union

Anyone who is an artist or works in the traditons of art and design in our contemporary world needs to read this article in ArtForum called "State of the Union" about artists and labor and the evolution thereof. The article is by Gregory Sholette and can be read here.. As artists in a post-9/11 world, we find ourselves to be subjects of suspicion. We act strange, and strange is bad in the world we live in today. In other places artists are supported by the state. They are supported by insurance, healthcare, and it's pretty amazing. I think it's frustrating for contemporary artists, so often we're seen as nuisances of contemporary society, getting in the way of people trying to make money or maintain o their bourgie lifestyles. . And I have lost steam, let me know what you think.

Humans, too, hard-wired leverage sex

There's a really interesting Scientific Blogging article on how no matter how wealthy young subjects of the study were (college students aged 18-27), the men and women both attempted to trade "sex" (term undefined but I believe it was broad, meaning any sexual act) for resources. Even those not lacking for resources tended to negotate these "nuptual currencies," and these findings are a preliminary suggestion that just as in hummingbirds, penguins, elk, trade sex for investment or access or protection, humans are hard-wired to do the same. Study was by Daniel Kruger at University of Michigan School of Public Health.

Update for the new homies

Boinkology (one of my favorite sex blogs) linked to an entry of mine today in it's BOINKABLE LINKS section! That post is here (it's the one on musicians), and I'd like to heartily welcome any of the newcomers via Boinkology, if you like my interests but not my 'blog persay, check out my shared posts via my google reader sidebar. This semester I've been taking RAD, which is Rape Agression Defense Systems self-defense class for women. First of all, it's weird that rape is the first word in their company/system name. I'm not like Heather MacDonald, who recently wrote a Los Angeles Times op-ed piece "What campus rape crisis?" I know not a lot of women self-report, and that the scum that does commit rape and assault has done it 16 times by the time they're caught by law enforcement. I'd like to believe that the number one fear of women should not be to be raped. And I'd like to think that that's not the worst thing that could happen to me, but I guess not much else could top that. Either way, I'm super pumped about my RAD simulation next Tuesday, and I think that every person should have these basic self-defense techniques in their belt. I was never petrified of walking around Baltimore at night, but now I know that I'm a force to be reckoned with. Unless that person has a gun or knife, in which case I don't know as well how to confront that situation. Oh well. The hair is finally starting to grow out, I overdyed it pink because it was looking a little ashy/mousy, and every time I sweat or sleep there's pink everywhere. D'oh. And now, for excessive quotation marks, care of Parkhurst at MICA.

Nine PM is my bedtime.

I've been pretty exhausted most of the day for no good reason, but I've been plugging along all the same on all of these ridiculous theory readings for my Body Discourses class. I really have to start in on my papers, but my dad's visiting, and we ate a big dinner, and all I really want to do right now is go to bed (but I won't because I'm letting him stay in mine.) So, for all that I'm not super-present blogwise, know that it's because I'm working on final papers, reading body discourse and blog theory books and articles, reading the Critique Handbook, and figuring out what in the hell I'm doing for two of my three final projects. It's not Typography that evades me (I'm typesetting a haggadah), it's the simple freedoms of my independent study and Alison Smith's Fabric of Consciousness class. I've been working on my commemorative bedsheet, and I think I may quilt words upon it a la Tracey Emin, finish it as a quilt, maybe even keep working on it so it becomes, literally, a quilt of the loves in my life. Or not, I'm not sure. I'm also still working on my rag rug, and I'm working on this hot little piece that is pretty fun and funny, but I've really got to delve into the Critique Handbook and sketchbook illustrations of what this thing's going to look like, what it's going to communicate, and (you know) figure out what I want to say.