Chatter

Video from my MFA Exhibition. I listened to two hours of television in the background, recording the phrases from commercials and talk shows. It's amazing how we get used to being bombarded with messages to cure our never-ending imperfections.

Time Marches On

"Time marches on, and eventually you realize it's marching across your face."

It's a funny saying, especially when delivered by a southern women in a beauty shop. But in reality, it's a message sent to women of all ages that they should do whatever necessary to hide the signs of aging. The beauty industry banks on it. Their pocket books provide a comfortable cushy seat for you to ride as you buy into their schemes. God forbid you actually look like you've experienced life. Even as I try to fight this battle, some mornings I find it hard to look myself in the mirror and love what I see.

From a Distance

I'm working on my final MFA project this summer, and of course I'm exploring the desire of others/ourselves to be something other than we are. So I'll probably post about it here to get your thoughts and feedback.

I'm intrigued by the fact that if we take a close look at something, we tend to think it more beautiful if it's altered. I see this in the art world a lot. The blurred abstract is more beautiful than the realistic close up. There is even an appreciation of presenting something horrific in a beautiful way. It's as if society needs it "prettied up" so they don't really have to consider it. This seems to be a more prevalent response in America than elsewhere, in my experience.

Even made up to the beauty industry's standards, a close look reveals the texture of skin, something the make up fails to cover. But then again, who cares as long as it works from a distance, right?

Covering

There are many things going on here, and writing about it seems to diminish them. So I won't.

Reality Bytes

--UPDATE ----UPDATE ----UPDATE --

As promised, here is the video. This, of course, is a very low resolution version. This is only half of the work shown at the Contemporary. The second video is Labeled.

Reality Bytes finally opens this weekend. Preparing for this exhibition has consumed most of my time over the past couple of months. I don't think my camera has left its bag since Christmas as editing has taken over. But I'm not complaining. It's been a lot of fun and a huge learning experience. One word of advice -- don't try to learn new software at the same time you're learning a new medium. ;-)

If you're in Dallas, try to come to the show. Nine artists from Germany, New York, California, and Texas make up a collection of digital narrative. I've seen some of the other pieces, and it's going to be a great show!

Opens Friday, February 23, 2007 at 7:00 pm at The Dallas Contemporary.

I'll add the video here after the opening. We also will have a companion exhibition in Second Life at the Metaverse Gallery & Performance Space, curated by yours truly. Here is the slurl.
http://slurl.com/secondlife/UTD%20ArtTech%20Island/137/54/36/

Beauty In a Box

Image from video - Beauty In a Box

It's that wonderful time of year that bombards us with solutions for our never ending faults. Of course, most of these offers refer to our unacceptable bodies. We are to believe that we are only useful beings to the human race if we run to the nearest gym and sign up for whatever torture they are selling in an attempt to make the view for everyone else a perfect one.

I, for one, cannot wait to sign up for a new gym membership. But I wish they would hurry up and let us know what we're supposed to look like this year. How can I possibly choose a membership plan that includes a personal trainer unless I'm able to tell that personal trainer what I want to look like? Are we still suppose to have junk in the trunk this year, or have we gone back to the flat butt look? Am I suppose to have muscles that tell you I can kick some ass, or are we going for the soft, feminine look? Personally, I'm voting for the kick ass look.

Well, until I hear what I'm supposed to do to my body this year, I suppose I will fill the time practicing the latest makeup application tips. Somehow these diagrams are quite reminiscent of the paint by numbers projects I did as a child. Surprise, surprise... those often frustrated me as I don't like to stay inside the lines.

;-)
Happy New Year everyone!

Natural

This is a new favorite of mine. I love her strength and her independence. Maybe I'm the only one who sees it. Sometimes it's surprising to meet myself in an image...

The Real Me is Over Here

I don't often wear makeup anymore. It's not because I'm making some statement against it or anything. Basically, I'm exhausted all the time, and I just barely get myself out of bed in time to make it to work with wet hair and major baggage under the eyes. It's hell trying to balance a full load of graduate work, a full time job, and the unescapable attraction of learning some new creative outlet.

Even so, I can't seem to escape the concerned inquiries to my well-being or the looks of condemnation from dolled up women. I do realize that we're conditioned to viewing women in this society as nose-powdering, mirror-validated robots, but come on. At least consider the possibility that time's march across my face just might be the result of long hours of hard work.

I might convince myself that I'm foregoing the ritual of painting on society's ideals, but I still fall victim to the thought that I look unpresentable. Once again, I find myself in a tug-of-war. Which one is the real me?

Labeled (Video)

During the past year or two I have become increasingly aware and intrigued by the rituals that make up our daily lives. We walk through most of them without a conscious thought, but others seem painstakingly self-inflicted if you really stop and think about them. Take makeup application, for example. I don't necessarily have anything against makeup, but as time has begun its march across my face, I'm increasingly aware that when I apply it, the goal is to hide some imperfection deemed unacceptable by society. I'm supposed to wear makeup to look pretty because I don't look as pretty without it. They say. I don't know if I will ever rid myself of what has been beaten into my head since childhood. I suppose on some level, the ritual began as fun and games when playing dress up with Mommy's makeup and shoes. We weren't thinking about making ourselves pretty. We just wanted to be grown up. Being a grown up was way better than being a little girl, so we would claim that new identity for the afternoon. That carried over into adulthood, where makeup became a tool for creating an altered identity (at least for 8-10 hours until I washed the "face" off). Makeup isn't necessarily the enemy creating that outer shell. We seem to do the same thing with measurements and dress sizes. How many lost dress sizes did you brag about the last time you went on a diet? I went from ___ to ___! I'm now a size ___! Fill in the blanks and attach that label to yourself because you're using those numbers to define yourself. As we sit in front of the mirror creating an altered identity, we apply more than just colored talcum powder and dyed wax. We also wear our numbers like prisoners. Whether they are worn proudly or not, we accept them as identity as we immerse ourselves in rituals to either embrace them or reject them.

Remodel

I hesitate to bring you this today as I cringe at the thought of spreading this demented way of thinking. But I must. This cannot be ignored.

This article from the New York Times landed in my inbox yesterday afternoon, and I read it in disbelief. Model-perfect women who serve as a visual goal of perfection are now getting micro-plastic surgery in obscure places in order to make themselves super-perfect. Taking out an ounce or two of fat around the ankles and knees is a way to “enhance the body parts of the already fit.” They are so skinny to begin with that the doctors have them wear their tight jeans or bras before they come in for the liposuction so they can see and mark the tiny lumps of fat. Even the genitalia have become zones of perfectibility, as one woman complained about a little bit of fat that showed in her tiny Brazilian bikini. The doctor actually refused to perform that one, as the surgery could have made sex painful for her.

Even though I realize that women choosing to have plastic surgery are, in fact, choosing it, I was absolutely speechless. All that came to mind were the women around the world who still have their genitalia mutilated, chopped and sewn shut, all for presentation to a man. I would never compare the suffering of those women with anyone who has access to the “luxury” of plastic surgery. I will, however, point out the sickening similarity of mutilating the female body in order to meet a society’s ideal for perfection.