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!
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/
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.
I created this image for the Body Peace Project. Liz and Ole have created an online space for the artistic expression of non-violence. Their description is much better than mine, so go check it out.
This is an example of what Pony was talking about. The internet allows us to bypass international boundaries.
Why do some men think that nothing will happen to a woman if they are accompanied by a male knight in shining armour? "I won't let anything happen to you." "Let me walk you to your car." "I'll protect you." I've never been able to figure this out.
I don't mean to dismiss any dear friend or relative who is concerned for my safety. I actually really appreciate that.
But when you verbalize the idea of looking out for someone's well-being, I believe the words you're looking for are, "There is safety in numbers." I'm not safe with you because you're male. After all, you're not bullet proof for god's sake.
If I feel the need to use the buddy system, I'll feel safer because I'm with another person, not because I'm with another gender.
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...
Most of you have no doubt noticed a shift in focus on this blog. It's been quite the growing experience. When I first began, I was unhappy with my weight, but at the same time, I knew that buying into the societal ideals of perfection was not part of my mindset. Yes, I wanted to lose this excess weight, but more than anything I wanted to portray the psychological effects of living in a society that constantly waves its ever changing definitions of perfection in your face.
Over time, the weight ceased to be such an issue as I discovered that my real concern wasn't so internal, but rather this ridiculous ideal that most of us at one time or another buy into.
Of as late, my focus has broadened into other women's issues, especially as I learn more about feminist theory. I was always taught that feminists were man-hating bitches who were only concerned with not being pretty. However, in the past year or two, I've learned that what I've always thought and haven't been able to verbalize has a name. It's called feminism.
These shifts are quite normal for me as an artist. I tend to explore something that bothers me until I work it out. Someone once asked me why my images are so harsh. I think it's because I wasn't allowed to voice any opposing opinion as a child. We didn't dare disagree without punishment. Finally I have found my voice, and I'm screaming, "Listen to me!!!"--even though it's from a photograph.
This post doesn't really have a point related to any topic on the blog. I just feel torn. I find myself not posting because an image doesn't relate to the blog. At times I think it's served its purpose and I should start a new one instead of trying to broaden the subject matter on this one. Who knows? It may not even matter! What do you guys think?
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.
It's the end of the semester, and once again I didn't lose any weight. In fact, I gained 10 pounds. Sure, I can blame it on the stress of taking too many hours while working full time, but when am I going to get off my butt and do something about this? I don't know. I felt like recording my internal dialogue. I wear it only too well.
"I myself have never been able to find out precisely what a feminist is, I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat." ~Rebecca West
"Well behaved women rarely make history." ~Laurel Thatcher Ulrich
