Talented SAD Girl!

Able to sleep vast hours in a finite amount of time! I think I spent twelve hours in bed yesterday, which is kind of nice but mostly horrible. It's funny because I'm never not tired. The weather here in Bodymore, Murdaland is misty, grey, cool and wet. What the heck? Ahh well. Hopefully I can wake up a little today and get in the studio.

Oh the idiocy

I cannot believe how long these guys are bantering in front of the vending machines. They either never went to bed and are still drunk, or they woke up and smoked up. Don't do drugs, kids. "Dude, do you smell that smell? It smells like smoke." "Man, I don't know, I can't smell anything anymore." "How can you not smell that? It's like pouporri and Meyerhoff smell, like food, over everything, over smoke." "If you could have anything in this machine, what would it be?" "M&M's, man." "Did you know the reason that bills have to be inserted face up is so that they don't have to arrange them when they count the money?" "No way?" "What kind of drink do you want" "I don't know, man" "Let's get out of this stinkpit." Today I'm heading up to Philly for a formal Japanese tea ceremony, should be fantastic, it's in an old-style samurai house. I really am not looking forward to being on my knees for an hour and a half, but I suppose it will be okay. I wonder if we are having thick tea or thin tea, and whether the tea is to be with wet sweets or dry sweets (wet with thick, dry with thin). Also I wonder how my tea bowls turned out from the kiln....

Homesickness is funny.

Well, not really funny. Kind of agonizing. They tell you when you're a camp counselor to help girls identify that they are not physically sick from missing home, that they're just missing home. But what about when home is all these associations, intangibles, people far far away. I'm watching Catch & Release (oh Kevin Smith, you sassy scene-stealer) and seeing all these Colorado trappings, missing Angie and Blue and all my co-counselors, Songbird and Zig-Zag. I also had an existential crisis in the yogurt aisle at the grocery store and called mah momma, which brings up how I'm all grown up yet still need some guidance. Also, longest graveyard shift ever. And I love chubby clever boys like Kevin Smith, my sweetheart, and Jack Black.

Ninety degrees what?

Popsicles and Joni Mitchell. Fantastic.

Note to self:

Sentences on Conceptual Art by Sol Lewitt Conceptual artists are mystics rather than rationalists. They leap to conclusions that logic cannot reach. Rational judgements repeat rational judgements. Irrational judgements lead to new experience. Formal art is essentially rational. Irrational thoughts should be followed absolutely and logically. If the artist changes his mind midway through the execution of the piece he compromises the result and repeats past results. The artist's will is secondary to the process he initiates from idea to completion. His wilfulness may only be ego. When words such as painting and sculpture are used, they connote a whole tradition and imply a consequent acceptance of this tradition, thus placing limitations on the artist who would be reluctant to make art that goes beyond the limitations. The concept and idea are different. The former implies a general direction while the latter is the component. Ideas implement the concept. Ideas can be works of art; they are in a chain of development that may eventually find some form. All ideas need not be made physical. Ideas do not necessarily proceed in logical order. They may set one off in unexpected directions, but an idea must necessarily be completed in the mind before the next one is formed. For each work of art that becomes physical there are many variations that do not. A work of art may be understood as a conductor from the artist's mind to the viewer's. But it may never reach the viewer, or it may never leave the artist's mind. The words of one artist to another may induce an idea chain, if they share the same concept. Since no form is intrinsically superior to another, the artist may use any form, from an expression of words (written or spoken) to physical reality, equally. If words are used, and they proceed from ideas about art, then they are art and not literature; numbers are not mathematics. All ideas are art if they are concerned with art and fall within the conventions of art. One usually understands the art of the past by applying the convention of the present, thus misunderstanding the art of the past. The conventions of art are altered by works of art. Successful art changes our understanding of the conventions by altering our perceptions. Perception of ideas leads to new ideas. The artist cannot imagine his art, and cannot perceive it until it is complete. The artist may misperceive (understand it differently from the artist) a work of art but still be set off in his own chain of thought by that misconstrual. Perception is subjective. The artist may not necessarily understand his own art. His perception is neither better nor worse than that of others. An artist may perceive the art of others better than his own. The concept of a work of art may involve the matter of the piece or the process in which it is made. Once the idea of the piece is established in the artist's mind and the final form is decided, the process is carried out blindly. There are many side effects that the artist cannot imagine. These may be used as ideas for new works. The process is mechanical and should not be tampered with. It should run its course. There are many elements involved in a work of art. The most important are the most obvious. If an artist uses the same form in a group of works, and changes the material, one would assume the artist's concept involved the material. Banal ideas cannot be rescued by beautiful execution. It is difficult to bungle a good idea. When an artist learns his craft too well he makes slick art. These sentences comment on art, but are not art. First published in 0-9 (New York), 1969, and Art-Language (England), May 1969

Oof.

After seeing the "Architecture of the Quilts of Gee's Bend" exhibit at the Baltimore Museum of Art recently, I was inspired by these beautiful work-clothes quilts. The women of Gee's Bend, isolated in a small town in Arkansas and several hours' from the nearest town, used the materials available to them as inspiration for the quilts that kept them and theirs warm. I'm using old jeans to make a rag-rug, onto which I will print cotton in bloom. The rag trade was integral (and is) to the lives of immigrants in America, a way where anyone, through hard work, could make a living and rise into the working class. Industry created workers, workers make money, producers become America's best consumers. But with the rise of outsourcing, the move of the source of our manufactured goods, well, anywhere but here, the rich history of mills and sewing machines, advent of jeans and sewing machines, immigrants camoflaging into American society, and thriftyness of the American households in lean times....these things are things lost to us. In building my school's sukkah today (yes it's late, don't ask), the topic came up and it occured to me that so few of us ever do without...without food, without music, without information, without something to do or somewhere to be. It's in that spirit that I'm making a rag rug from denim, sturdy and practical, hard-working and reflecting of the working class. That being said, the denim braid is much harder on the hands than anything else I've braided with, and I'm wondering how big a rug I can really make with the amount of tension I'm putting on my fingers. We'll see!

It sweeps in and looms...

Every year, varying in precise date, something happens to me. My productivity drops. My sleep patterns become anywhere, anytime, for as long as possible. I'm a morning person by nature, I like to be in bed and asleep between 10 and midnight, up with the sun-ish. And then, the SAD kicks in. Long ago, when my family still lived in Maryland, my dad got crankier in the fall and winter, and my mom figured that he had Seasonal Affective Disorder. The man that my father was when we were Marylanders is totally different than the man he is now in southern California. Ever since I made the move back to Maryland for school, I've suffered the symptoms of SAD every autumn. So, I'm starting back up on the generic Prozac. Every year I forget how tired and lethargic I can get until it's too late, but this year I think I'm starting the SSRI therapy early enough that it shouldn't be too bad. I think that a lot of people don't even realize that they may have mildly the effects of the changing weather and light at this time of year, that things like exercise, lots of sunlight, even light box therapy (even sitting over the light table in the Fibers department for an hour or two) can help. And the -worst- thing I can do is listen to my sleepy mind, stay in bed, get nothing done, which makes the depression worse. So hopefully this year will be better. Now, to do some homework. Maybe build a hut later.

Salvage time

Anyone up for some adventure in Upton? It looks like it's right off the Upton Metro station. No idea what they have there, but it's probably worth a gander. Modern Junk & Salvage Co. 1423 N. Fremont Ave., Baltimore, MD 21217 (410) 669-8290.

Elvis leg

Yesterday I went to Loyola to use their climbing facilities with a friend, and the trouble we nearly got in was ridiculous. Luckily, my companion had a friend at Loyola who came and signed us in as guests, we all climbed together for a while, it was nice. Except I definitely pulled something in my foot, and my studio is across the Howard Street bridge, and it definitely got worse overnight. RICE, anyone? I have this habit of watching Dharma and Greg in the mornings. Which is inconvenient because it ends at 9 am, when most of my classes and desk shifts start. Something about it's goofy characters and laugh track that makes me happy, wakes me up. Ahh, poor taste in sit-com's. Just a couple weeks till I get some crits in my classes, unfortunate I've had a lot of time out of the studio, and I need to get a lot of work done in the next couple weeks--maybe calling other desk assistants to cover my shifts so I can get into the studio.

I'm back!

Ahh, remember the good ol' days when people took "breaks" from el-jay land because of the high drama quotient? Luckily, there's not been much drama, other than I didn't apologize as much as I wanted to for yom kippur, and I got all kinds of sick and thus my apartment is a mess, etc., and I'm somewhat behind in classes AND super busy this week AND my studio-mate may be replaced by up to three fibers juniors (my studio! mine!), I wasn't able to fast fully, every week whizzes by and I can hardly even see what's going on it's such a blur. Luckily, workload's not killer this semester. I know my getting sick/being a wuss will generally catch up with me, that I will have to pay the piper for not jumping headfirst into some long-term projects, however, unlike last year where I was trying to do every single job on the planet and having loads of relationship-related anxiety, this year is calmer, easier. Lindsay is not quite Zen-master Lindsay, but with a little bit of tea ceremony and a summer in the mountains, she's pretty different than the Lindsay of sophomore year. At least in experience--YMMV. Where last year falling asleep for 4 hours mid-day may have meant missing the time to get the duty phone or not being able to print because of RCA programming and duty responsibilities, now it just means I fell asleep for a couple hours. It's okay, really. And somehow, I know whatever comes come graduation in May, I'll be game. So very game.

Sick day.

ugh.

I love my job (not)

Desk assistants at the dorms do more work than campus safety associates, who monitor desks at academic buildings, but we get paid less. In addition, campus safety officers don't really like DA's because they only ever see us when there's a problem. There are, of course, exceptions to this. For example, Officer Brown loves me because we did a bust together once where I spotted a piece after they'd arrived. We're colleagues. Anyway, on the way to the Commons I noted that the gate was still open to the parking lot, and you're paying for secure parking so if the gates are up past the first week of school, if I were paying, that's bull. This is a lot that backs North Ave., where cars get broken into on a semi-regular basis. I asked my boss why they were still open. "I don't know, they were supposed to be closed last week." I call our community safety dispatch desk. The following conversation occurs. L: Hi, this is Lindsay at the Commons desk. I was wondering why the gates to the parking lot are still up? CSO: Because "El Director" hasn't told us to put them down yet. L: Oh, I thought they were supposed to be down last week. Thanks. Five minutes later, on the radio: CSO: Dispatch to Unit 31, please put down the parking gates at Commons lot. Unit 31: Ten-four. Lindsay: one. Sassy CSO at Dispatch: zero. Obviously the director of reslife e-mailed them and that info got ignored or didn't get passed on to the officers on duty last week. I can't believe no students complained to the right people about the messed up fact that the gates were still up.

Increasing Workplace Productivity

Finally got in a decent 6 hours in the studio today, which was fantastic. There's a yoga class for upperclassmen and grad students only in the studio building on-campus that I think I'm going to hit tomorrow, considering I've made some decent headway for my class tomorrow, so not a lot more to do before class tomorrow evening. Last night I watched a special on Pepsi versus Coca-Cola and also one on MSNBC with corpses and autopsies. Made me miss the good ol' X-Files days. Going to do some laundry, pick up my room a bit, maybe do some dishes, and get ready for tomorrow. One bummer today: found out that my local light rail-accessible Wal-Mart is no longer carrying fabrics, and I am having a TOUGH time finding nylons and polyesters to my liking for my projects this semester.

Fascinating...

When I sleep the sleep of a dead woman, I have some strange dreams. Case in point: left the studio late last night (and it's horrible, horrible internet connection) after making a case for my ipod when I say hello and goodnight to the roomie, and I am off to bed. Cut to, alarm going off at 7:30 this morning, I wake up for a dream where I was expeditioning in the snow with Lone Wolf. Seriously? Seriously. With girls (campers). It was pretty fantastic, even though we missed the ski lift we were supposed to turn at (or we didn't go far enough) but that snow was driving. One hour down, two to go. Oh, desk shifts.

Full of tea

I have spent a lot of nights away from my own home, and thus the trash needs must go out, the sink and fridge need emptying, and an awful lot of laundry needs folding. So, after I am through with this class (which seems as if it will be soon), I'm going to head off to Wegman's and Wal-Mart, because I need some fabrics to make technical wear or something, and I need matzo ball soup mix and noodles and soy dogs and some sort of non-processed cheese...Sorry, studio, I suppose I will have to see you tomorrow afternoon.

Part 2: Barfing out ideas

So, where are influences coming from? What fashion products exist already? How is my line different? What market? What price? What materials? I want it to be well-designed. I'd rather come up short on pieces for the show to come up with truly amazing technical performance garments. Option 1: Make urban fashions with inspiration from high-performance technical gear that respond to questions of survival in urban and suburban environments. Examples are some form of urban bear-bag, a portable chair of some sort to wait for the bus on, and of course garments that are sensitive to connectivity and technology and the risk they bring. Downsides: Lots of competition in accessory department, clothing would be high-craft, high-cost, aimed at urbanites with disposable income (i.e. not myself). Option 2: Make high-tech and high-touch garments which are as appealing to non-outdoors-people as hardcore hikers. Each garment has a secondary or convertible aspect to it which intends to make hiking, climbing, camping, scrambling, more convenient and less stressful. It should also be easily customizable and versatile. Downsides: Will have to strike a fine balance, keep it simple where possible, to consider what I need to do for the customer, and what they may want to do themselves. These objects will be about home in the outdoors. Option 3: Using nature and landscape as a point of departure, make simple garments and accessories for an active lifestyle that use pattern to create rhythm whether worn in city life or weekend trips. These talk about the intersection of wild and tamed, and also includes the creation of home products that bring nature indoors. Downsides: Shallow, just not as exciting.

Tsumura and Orta

So, despite being a fake-hardcore outdoors-woman, there is a lot to think about and learn about outdoor gear. For class tomorrow I have to present three seperate "fashion line" ideas for my experimental fashion class on design & production of fashion shows. I am looking largely at the work of Lucy Orta, who uses high-tech textiles, trims, and silkscreening to talk about social issues (homelessness being a big one). The part I identify with in her work is that it's functional-looking (though the chief function is to illustrate an idea, not actual survival) and talks about transformation, shelter, personal space. I feel very much like a nomad in my existence, and despite that nomadicism I still have physical needs, desires, creature comforts... The piece on the left is a Lucy Orta piece, the one on the right is Kosuke Tsumura's "Final Home" jacket with 44 pockets which can be used for storage or stuffed with newspaper for insulation (comes with Final Home bear, which fits in one of said pockets).

It's the little things that make all the difference.

In design, life, room arrangements, way you slurp your tea, relationships. As a kid, I don't think I was alone a ton. I was a tagger-alonger, the pesky little sister (I think). I mean, with a twin sister, there's not a whole lot you do by yourself. I think until we were 11 or 12 we even had our doctor exams in the same room. My studio is becoming a haven, it feels like home and I do love it, love how it's got my re-finished table with the red edge, and my fabrics that I've made and my sculptures and my rag rug and all mine mine mine. I guess I'm just a social creator, I like to roll ideas around in a circle 'till it's gained mass and momentum. I'm at the crux, the starting, of a few projects, and would simply really love to roll some ideas around with my graphic designer significant other. But off he goes to a tea party and here I am, toes frigid, trying to understand what the hell I'm doing for these couple of (related) projects. And blogging about it. Ninety percent of the time I'm fantastic, I can work on things alone, but I hate making work in a bubble, you get this stuff that's great in your eyes but when you put it out on that severe white pedestal and under them fluorescent lights it just doesn't hold their attention (in a good way). Just had to get that out. I don't really imagine myself ending up in a relationship where we only exist together in rest. I need to be engaged and fight and argue (in a positive way)! Guess I'm just a little bit contrite. Ahh well, nose to the grindstone! I also think I'm just feelin' the end of the week, sipping my Italian semi-dri red and eating cold pizza and just thanking G-d that shabbat is nigh!

Studio!

W00t! I got my senior studio assignment, which is in MICA's "studio center" on North Avenue, quite a disapointment compared to being in the station last semester because of my independent study. But you know what? I'm happy to be in a building with massive amounts of space and people who are not fibers majors. People leave lockers, tables, stools in their studios at the end of the year, so I found an awesome table, except for how it was covered in paint. But, an hour or two of belt sanding and I had a table ready for re-finishing. I also re-arranged ad-infinitum, I must have moved the table seven times, but I just want everything in order for starting to work. My bedroom is much emptier, but I still have to put up my curtains, put my books up on shelves, etc. It It's truly strange to think that I don't know where I'll be living or what I'll be doing after MICA. I know I want to get my WFR, work outdoors, so do I plan for that or do I go the optimistic route and try straight for grad school? And do I do my WFR this January or do I wait to work for a place this summer who will pay for it? Oy.

Just the pictures

Recently uploaded Vedauwoo pictures. Enjoy! Double rainbow, Jyoti and Magpie as the pink and yellow rangers, me on belay at the crack on the rat brain, and the Ames Monument, which is an old railroad monument which was near the tracks till they got moved towards Laramie, and some intrepid climbers put some bolts on that thing (I hear people use it for bouldering horizontal routes). The stone is the local Sherman granite at Vedauwoo.