When developing photos, my mom always insists on color. She hates black and white photos. Apparently this is because she grew up with those boring old black and white photos. This all goes to the familiar ground of the parental guilt trip... and it's true, my generation is spoiled with the whole technology thing. My mom also claims that I'm a romantic. I guess I am. This all, supposedly, explains my love of black and white photography. There's just something about it that seems to have more interest. As if the shades of black and white are deeper then hues of color. It all sounds like nonesense, I suppose. But if you sit and you look at a black and white photo... maybe you'll agree with me.There's a stillness and a contrast represented in those black and white photos... of stopped and frozen time. I guess it is romantic. The camera doesn't make a bit of difference. All of them can record what you are seeing. But, you have to SEE. -Ernst Haas
In the whole world there is nothing better than dancing around the kitchen with a freshly-bathed and diapered baby. Especially when the music is Louis Armstrong and the baby is a giggly baby. Laughing is the sensation of feeling good all over and showing it principally in one spot. -Josh Billings
pasteurize: where your life goes in a near-death experience.
I colored with crayons until around eleven last night with my friends. When was the last time I did that? Heaven knows. I never realized that Crayola crayons and a good solid coloring book were the tools to unlock the restoration of my soul. Har har. Honestly though, it is incredibly relaxing. Therapists should keep a box of (at least) 48 crayons and a coloring book in their offices, just for this purpose. Think how fewer psychopaths there would be in the world if we gave them all a box of crayons and a coloring book. And the names of the colors they come up with! My favorite was razmatazz. It is THE most awesome color. My friends were all like, "pass the robin's-egg-blue," or "I need the forest green." When I just grabbed at whatever I could get... like my six-year-old brother. Now I know why parents buy all that coloring crap: if it can keep 18-year-olds busy for hours, it can keep a five-year-old busy for at least a half-hour. I'll have to remember that in the future. Isn't it funny what happens to people as they grow older? My 14-year-old sister, for example, is now into that embarrassed-and-completely-self-conscious stage 24/7. I remember that stage. My older brother (approaching his 20th birthday) scoffs at me because I love to act goofy. I mean, like a little kid again. I'm regressing, I guess. But if you go through life acting all stiff and serious and... boring, that's what your life is gonna be. My goal in life (aside from all those other goals) is to not be afraid of acting like a little kid sometimes. In a way, I think, it reminds you to cherish what's important, and not the little things you've blown out of proportion. The simple things. That's why, no matter what I ever say, my siblings are so important to my life. It's like laughter; how dull would I be without it? How superficial would I be without my brothers and sisters? They rock.
To catch the impression of a place, a moment, a feeling... and document it forever on canvas. How beautiful is that? Forever I'll focus on achieving perfect detail, and completely lose my sense of the beauty of what I'm trying to capture. So, it'll really be an achievement when I finally learn what those darned impressionistic painters know that I don't know. What a pain. There are painters who transform the sun to a yellow spot, but there are others who with the help of their art and their intelligence, transform a yellow spot into the sun. Pablo Picasso
Laughing. Honestly, it's the number one best activity in life. It takes so little effort and so often is simply spontaneous. Think about it : real, joyful, genuine laughter not only makes you feel good but often radiates to other people too. If I couldn't laugh, what kind of a person would I be? My friends have learned to characterize me by my laughter... I honestly have a billion different laughs. Sometimes I'll randomly start giggling over really stupid things and my friends will give me that 'you're psychotic' look. It's great. I'm pretty sure laughter consists of about 75% of my personality, so I would be a really dull person without it. Thank God for laughs. Right now I am laughing because I just realized that today is Friday the Thirteenth. Ha. Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh. W. H. Auden
This morning I remembered something that happened the other day. I had been walking from the museum to the library through this windowed corridor type thing when I happened to look out the window and I saw this fat little cardinal sitting on a berry bush. It was kinda surreal. He was just hanging out there... but he started eyeing me when I immediately took out my camera (I was having good luck that day--hence having a camera at just the right moment) and got as close as I could to get a picture of him. I'm not sure why I remembered it this morning... it was just one of those odd little events that deviate from the monotonous events of everyday. Kind of refreshing, in a way.
The sun came back this week but unfortunately it brought colder wind with it. Ah, well... I'm not sure how much longer I could have lasted without sunshine.
Q: If you could go anywhere (be anywhere) right now, where?To be a dork and quote Dr. Seuss: oh the possibilities.Perhaps take the path frequently trodden, and I could be in Rome, Venice, Florence, Paris, London... somewhere in Spain or Greece.I for one have always, always dreamed of going to Ireland. (When college-searching first began and brochures were handed out, I always went directly to the study abroad programs to see Ireland listed there.) I don't know why... something about the stereotypical landscape there... for some odd reason it sparks my artistic interest more then Italy or France... but then again, I've never been to Europe (barely even out of the U.S. at all.)Right now, I'm feeling Greek.
Where did the weekend go? I'm pretty sure Saturday flowed right into Sunday. Therefore today should not be Monday. I was inevitably late for work again this morning. Inevitable because, again, it's Monday. The incredibly cold blast of wind that met me on the walk to the campus center froze every exposed patch of my skin. Even my eyes felt frozen (is that even possible?)-- especially my eyes. And then-- horror of horrors, I remembered how many of my friends are studying abroad this month in places like Hawaii and (even better!) Greece. The irony that they should leave just in time for this sudden cold blast of winter was almost too much to bear. My big brother would have a conniption fit over my complaints: "You're a Minnesotan! This weather is warm for a pure-blooded Minnesotan!" Logically then, I am not a true Minnesotan... and curiously, I'm not afraid to admit it. At least I don't panic over a couple inches of snow like our high and mighty weather forcasters. (Then again, I don't usually have to drive in it either.)I feel I should document the discovery of an artist named Keith Haring in my drawing class today. When I first saw his work I wasn't really impressed, but I think it's growing on me. How interesting.
Ah ha. So... here I am.
There is so much I could say... what do I start with?
I love paint. I really can't explain why. It goes along, I guess, with my love of art. Art in general, I mean. I guess it's like seeing this blank space... and, to put it bluntly, making it unblank. And my favorite medium for unblanking something is with paint. So... there you go.
