I have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn, drive myself (along with some other students I honestly don’t care for) to Clarkdale Arizona. This isn’t my first time up there as I have been driving back and forth all break working with artist Don Reitz for a class. His work is beyond incredible and the experience has allowed me to really settle into my own way of creating. I have spent 8 days completely enthralled in my work and have accomplished more than I imagined I would. But this last trip I am dreading due to the annoyance my classmates and the immense amount of work that is involved in unloading the wood-fired kiln. Furthermore, all the collectors and big-wigs of ASU would be there watching us bust our butts and getting in our way, which overall just creates more irritation for me.
On the drive up I have at least 7 cigarettes just anticipating the joyous day ahead of me. From the moment I arrived I knew the small-talk , fake pleasantries, and false sense of community, was going to make my day just dandy. I had woken up at 6:30 so I could arrive by 9:15 and spent my time waiting 2 hours for 80 year old Don to wake up. When Don finally awoke, he decided that instead of us unloading the kiln, we would unload his daughters storage shed. What a surprise, how did Don know I wanted to wake up earlier than is right for man-kind and unload a shed that was completely unrelated to me. Not to mention the shed was filled with cinder-blocks and plywood. What an interesting way to challenge my artistic mind and a wonderful learning experience that I am paying $2,000 for. Well, at least I got free lunch out of it.
After lunch, I spent another 3 hours waiting around. Since I was allowed to smoke at Don’s studio I took a nice stroll (maybe more like 4 or 5 strolls) down the river to feed my nicotine addiction. Finally, a gigantic bus arrived with all those ASU collectors and big-wigs. Upon their arrival, they begin making speeches and I realize my ipod is blaring rock and roll music. I fight my way to towards the ipod so that I can unplug it and prevent anyone from noticing. I than realize, to the right of me is a Don Reitz, to my left is the curator of the ASU art museum. I have somehow managed to accidentally fight my way through the crowd and stand among of the big-wigs. Not to mention, there is a photographer taking photos of the event. So there I am, in all the press releases, after having 2 hours of sleep, a pack of cigarettes to myself, and spent a day of hard labor. Glad I am able to make a good impression.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Week 1 Reflection
Lindsey: When I read your blog I feel as though I am apart of your actual life (not meant to be creepy) because you are so clear and distinct with your descriptions. I get the feeling that you write similar to the way that you talk, with clear descriptions and moments of humor. I enjoy when you describe your hometown by saying "we're known for rolling hills, vineyards, and Winona Ryder" because it makes it seem really like home. Your blog about your boyfriend made me feel as though I was falling in love and it is clear that there is a deep connection between you two, a true love story. Cold-gray stoned benches placed me right in that location with your clear imagery and attention to details. I could even imagine you sitting there working or just relaxing.
Jesus: Immediately upon reading your introduction you seem as though a truly interesting person with a unique background. This is not only clear with how you describe yourself, but also how you write. If you could include a song on your blog, that would be incredible. Music seems to be an essential part of who you are as a person, which is why I appreciate you including songs you listened to at the end of your blog. The song written portion about Nicole really captures the essence of how you connect to her as a person. What a unique way of capturing such a sincere relationship. Your final post of last week really showcases your talents as a writer. Honestly, I am envious of this trait. You have such a unique, distinct voice in your writing that seems to reflect you as a person.
Miranda: What a creative way of seeing yourself. Your writing points out such unique points within your walk of life that give a clear idea of you as a person. Not only are you describing what happens in your life, but also your way of seeing life. When describing your friend it seemed as though the rhythm or your writing also reflected that persons personality . This unique way of writing offers more for the reader and a deeper understanding of that person. When describing a place your focus on the people captures the essence of the restaurant. How you described the people in the setting truly captured the overall energy within the restaurant without even having to focus tangible details (even though you did that too).
Jesus: Immediately upon reading your introduction you seem as though a truly interesting person with a unique background. This is not only clear with how you describe yourself, but also how you write. If you could include a song on your blog, that would be incredible. Music seems to be an essential part of who you are as a person, which is why I appreciate you including songs you listened to at the end of your blog. The song written portion about Nicole really captures the essence of how you connect to her as a person. What a unique way of capturing such a sincere relationship. Your final post of last week really showcases your talents as a writer. Honestly, I am envious of this trait. You have such a unique, distinct voice in your writing that seems to reflect you as a person.
Miranda: What a creative way of seeing yourself. Your writing points out such unique points within your walk of life that give a clear idea of you as a person. Not only are you describing what happens in your life, but also your way of seeing life. When describing your friend it seemed as though the rhythm or your writing also reflected that persons personality . This unique way of writing offers more for the reader and a deeper understanding of that person. When describing a place your focus on the people captures the essence of the restaurant. How you described the people in the setting truly captured the overall energy within the restaurant without even having to focus tangible details (even though you did that too).
Kitchen
The kitchen has always been the most central part of my families activity. As we have grown older, my brother is a chief, my sisters boyfriend is a chief, and my mother is an excellent cook. Honestly, the kitchen in my adult life is far more interesting than my childhood as each person fights to be the head chief in the kitchen. Still, growing up in such a large family meant that each person had to be apart of the kitchen in some way. Each kid had to play a role so that the kitchen could come together and work smoothly. Here is a memory from my childhood (attempting to write it as though I were still that age).
My sister and I always wash the dishes. In fact my father bought us dish washing aprons in order to make it more fun for us. Although I don't actually like washing dishes, I am impressed by his attempt to make it fun. My mom always decorates her kitchen with three colors: white, navy blue, and yellow. The tile is all white, from the counter tops to the floor. The walls were decorated with navy blue china that was so high up I couldn't reach it if I tried. And somewhere in the kitchen is hidden yellow, either a yellow sunflower or a yellow teapot. The kitchen seems more like a place for my mother than for me, but still I am forced to help out somehow.
Every year, for Thanksgiving each of us has a dish to prepare. My brothers helps with the turkey, my sister makes pies with my mom, and I make mashed potatoes. I have been perfecting my secret recipe for years now and I must admit, even being so young, no one makes them better than me. Each year my mom sets it up for me and I climb up on a stool and mash the potatoes in that big orange bowl. I throw in all the butter, salt, and milk that anyone could ever possibly eat and mash it all together. It's surprisingly hard being so small, but still I am determined.
The potatoes are always the last thing to be finished. But while preparing them there is a lot of action happening to make sure the whole meal goes off smoothly. My mom is the center of the kitchen as she plays a role in everything that is being made. Each year, her and my brother get into some sort of argument because they both think they know best. Still, they always come to some sort of agreement in order to make the day enjoyable for everyone. Once everything is finally prepared, we set it out and begin to eat. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday even until today.
My sister and I always wash the dishes. In fact my father bought us dish washing aprons in order to make it more fun for us. Although I don't actually like washing dishes, I am impressed by his attempt to make it fun. My mom always decorates her kitchen with three colors: white, navy blue, and yellow. The tile is all white, from the counter tops to the floor. The walls were decorated with navy blue china that was so high up I couldn't reach it if I tried. And somewhere in the kitchen is hidden yellow, either a yellow sunflower or a yellow teapot. The kitchen seems more like a place for my mother than for me, but still I am forced to help out somehow.
Every year, for Thanksgiving each of us has a dish to prepare. My brothers helps with the turkey, my sister makes pies with my mom, and I make mashed potatoes. I have been perfecting my secret recipe for years now and I must admit, even being so young, no one makes them better than me. Each year my mom sets it up for me and I climb up on a stool and mash the potatoes in that big orange bowl. I throw in all the butter, salt, and milk that anyone could ever possibly eat and mash it all together. It's surprisingly hard being so small, but still I am determined.
The potatoes are always the last thing to be finished. But while preparing them there is a lot of action happening to make sure the whole meal goes off smoothly. My mom is the center of the kitchen as she plays a role in everything that is being made. Each year, her and my brother get into some sort of argument because they both think they know best. Still, they always come to some sort of agreement in order to make the day enjoyable for everyone. Once everything is finally prepared, we set it out and begin to eat. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday even until today.
Family Memory
Variation 1:
My Perspective:
I grew up in a family with 2 boys and 2 girls. The boys were the oldest and the girls were the youngest, in fact I am the baby. When boys are young they have a tendency to over indulge in playing pranks on their little sisters and my brothers were the masters at it. My sister and I were about 4 and 5 and had been locked in our room for hours playing barbies (a usual for us). I don't know when my brothers had the brilliant idea or when they posted the sign, but they decided to attempt and sell our room. Realistically this was not possible but as a four year old, I thought it could happen. So I left my room to go to the bathroom and come back to a sign on my door that says "Room for sale. See owners next door" (there room was immediately next to ours). I immediately got angry, angrier than I had ever been. I started yelling and screaming at them, ripped the sign off the door and ran to the living room to show my parents. My parents couldn't help but burst into laughter understanding the impossibility of my brothers selling my room. Still I was just utterly confused and couldn't understand why everyone was laughing. My memory from there is blurry and I am uncertain of what happened next. But I can assure you that even now my family loves to tell this story.
My fathers perspective:
I was watching tv in the living room. Finally a break from four young children as they are occupied with playing. I can't remember the last time my wife and I got some piece and quite in this house. Or had the opportunity to watch an entire tv show, movies are so far out of the question unless it involves a Disney character. Suddenly, Alyssa comes screeching into the living room with a piece of paper in her hands. She is beyond livid and I can't make out what she is trying to say underneath her crying. Sarah comes in after her and attempts to calm her down, while the boys come in immediately trying to defend themselves. Still I have no idea what exactly happened, but I am use to the boys doing something to the girls. At this point Alyssa has dropped the paper out of her hands, I pick it up and it reads "Room for sale. See owners next door". I can't help but burst into laughter, as my wife has the same reaction. The boys begin laughing too thinking they have gotten away with this ploy to anger the girls and I must admit, it was pretty clever. Still laughter may have not been the best reaction. After I am able to pull myself together, I calm Alyssa down and send the boys to bed. I didn't punish them for it, but I did try and convince them to stop playing pranks on the girl. To this day the boys still attempt to do so, but the girls have gotten a lot better at getting back at them.
My Perspective:
I grew up in a family with 2 boys and 2 girls. The boys were the oldest and the girls were the youngest, in fact I am the baby. When boys are young they have a tendency to over indulge in playing pranks on their little sisters and my brothers were the masters at it. My sister and I were about 4 and 5 and had been locked in our room for hours playing barbies (a usual for us). I don't know when my brothers had the brilliant idea or when they posted the sign, but they decided to attempt and sell our room. Realistically this was not possible but as a four year old, I thought it could happen. So I left my room to go to the bathroom and come back to a sign on my door that says "Room for sale. See owners next door" (there room was immediately next to ours). I immediately got angry, angrier than I had ever been. I started yelling and screaming at them, ripped the sign off the door and ran to the living room to show my parents. My parents couldn't help but burst into laughter understanding the impossibility of my brothers selling my room. Still I was just utterly confused and couldn't understand why everyone was laughing. My memory from there is blurry and I am uncertain of what happened next. But I can assure you that even now my family loves to tell this story.
My fathers perspective:
I was watching tv in the living room. Finally a break from four young children as they are occupied with playing. I can't remember the last time my wife and I got some piece and quite in this house. Or had the opportunity to watch an entire tv show, movies are so far out of the question unless it involves a Disney character. Suddenly, Alyssa comes screeching into the living room with a piece of paper in her hands. She is beyond livid and I can't make out what she is trying to say underneath her crying. Sarah comes in after her and attempts to calm her down, while the boys come in immediately trying to defend themselves. Still I have no idea what exactly happened, but I am use to the boys doing something to the girls. At this point Alyssa has dropped the paper out of her hands, I pick it up and it reads "Room for sale. See owners next door". I can't help but burst into laughter, as my wife has the same reaction. The boys begin laughing too thinking they have gotten away with this ploy to anger the girls and I must admit, it was pretty clever. Still laughter may have not been the best reaction. After I am able to pull myself together, I calm Alyssa down and send the boys to bed. I didn't punish them for it, but I did try and convince them to stop playing pranks on the girl. To this day the boys still attempt to do so, but the girls have gotten a lot better at getting back at them.
Monday, January 24, 2011
The Studio
The one place I spend the majority of my time is the dance studio. I go for at least two hours a day, weekends included. On busy days I can spend up to 8 hours in the studio. Each studio is unique and different but my favorite is the oldest, smallest, and dirtiest.
As I look around, the studio is packed with around 60 people taking a hip-hop class. Normally I spend time in here alone, but for today I have come to watch a class. The teacher, who I know, doesn't consider hip-hop her favorite style but you could never tell by watching her. She is a true performer as she stays completely committed and enthralled is her movement. The students are all new-comers to the art form and completely contrast in how they approach the class. There are the people in the front of the room fighting to be the best. The people in the middle, trying to find space to move in the over crowded room. The people in the back seem timid and scared of what may happen next. The class is loud, the room smells like dirty feet and sweaty bodies, and the temperature is boiling. It's as hot as Tempe on a summer day. Some people seem to notice me and are uncertain of what I am doing, some never ever noticed I entered the room. My favorite person to watch is the tiniest little girl dancing front and center. She awkwardly moves in her body like she's never even tried to dance before. To her, she doesn't even seem to notice her awkwardness as she does each movement full out and confident. I am envious of this trait. She doesn't care what people think or what she looks like, she works the movement like her life depended on it. I am so impressed by her confidence as it makes her shine even in her awkward approach.
As the class ends people scramble to check their cell phones immediately. There are so many people in there they have to wait just to get out of the room. Suddenly the studio becomes more familiar to me. The room is silent with just the buzzing of the air conditioning and the cracking of the building. No more blasting music or loud chatter. Just silence. The room is dusty and dirty and still has the musty smell of sweaty bodies. But still it feels like home to me. I spend time just looking at the random clutter, a podium for a professors, some outdated workout equipment , old chairs, and the loud blue curtains that covers the mirrors when wanted. This place is so comfortable for me. A place I can spend hours alone by myself. It is her that I have created entire pieces and spent even more time creating movement I just throw away. I can't imagine the last four years without having discovering this dinky old studio in the basement of a building.
MaryLane Porter... The first
MaryLane. Please do not call her Mary because she much prefers MaryLane, as made clear through her distinct introduction. "Hi, I'm MaryLane Porter. The first" as she laughs at her own introduction. I have never met an individual quite as unique as this one.
At the young age of 21 MaryLane has already started her own corporation. DAHT, standing for dancers and health together. Since I met her, my freshman year of college, she has had this ambition and has saw to it that it would happen. When I asked her a few days ago what she would do if it didn't work out she exclaimed "the way I see it, I will do anything to see that it happens. I know it may not always lead to the best life decisions, but I know it's what I am suppose to do". Her corporation focuses on bringing dance to the masses and helping them understand how it can benefit ones health both mentally and physically. She invests a lot of time with community work and helps others to learn how dance can save lives. Maybe not literally, but it sure can bring joy to almost anyone.
The three things that best describe MaryLane are: business casual, drive-in movies, and sugar. Whenever we attempt to go anywhere she asks "what should I wear?" and before anyone can answer she says "business casual?". Not that it would matter what we said because it's a guarantee that's what you'll find her in. Whenever she plans a night on the town, its a guarantee drive-in movies are at the top of her list. She can convince anyone and everyone to attend one with her. If it's a Harry Potter movie, you know the second she asks, you'll be going. I've never met someone with a sugar addiction like MaryLane. Anyone could win her heart with a cookie and the second you offer it to her, her face lights up like you just told her she won a million dollars. Once she gets on a sugar kick, there is nothing stopping her to satisfy her craving. She is constantly bringing cookies everywhere and she'll never tell what her secret ingredients are.
MaryLane and I connected because we both cam from small towns. She's from Ardmore Oklahoma and I'm from Rio Rico Arizona. We both have big dreams and small town hearts. This is what connects us down to our souls. Anyone who knows her can agree, you'll never meet anyone like MaryLane Porter... the first.
At the young age of 21 MaryLane has already started her own corporation. DAHT, standing for dancers and health together. Since I met her, my freshman year of college, she has had this ambition and has saw to it that it would happen. When I asked her a few days ago what she would do if it didn't work out she exclaimed "the way I see it, I will do anything to see that it happens. I know it may not always lead to the best life decisions, but I know it's what I am suppose to do". Her corporation focuses on bringing dance to the masses and helping them understand how it can benefit ones health both mentally and physically. She invests a lot of time with community work and helps others to learn how dance can save lives. Maybe not literally, but it sure can bring joy to almost anyone.
The three things that best describe MaryLane are: business casual, drive-in movies, and sugar. Whenever we attempt to go anywhere she asks "what should I wear?" and before anyone can answer she says "business casual?". Not that it would matter what we said because it's a guarantee that's what you'll find her in. Whenever she plans a night on the town, its a guarantee drive-in movies are at the top of her list. She can convince anyone and everyone to attend one with her. If it's a Harry Potter movie, you know the second she asks, you'll be going. I've never met someone with a sugar addiction like MaryLane. Anyone could win her heart with a cookie and the second you offer it to her, her face lights up like you just told her she won a million dollars. Once she gets on a sugar kick, there is nothing stopping her to satisfy her craving. She is constantly bringing cookies everywhere and she'll never tell what her secret ingredients are.
MaryLane and I connected because we both cam from small towns. She's from Ardmore Oklahoma and I'm from Rio Rico Arizona. We both have big dreams and small town hearts. This is what connects us down to our souls. Anyone who knows her can agree, you'll never meet anyone like MaryLane Porter... the first.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
assignment 1
Alyssa Beth Brown
Elizabeth
Named after both my Grandmas.
Alice and Beth.
Born and raised in Rio Rico Arizona.
A town that borders Mexico and America.
Seems as though I’ve always been split into two.
My family has two boys and two girls. The oldest are the two boys, The youngest are the two girls. I am the youngest of them all. My sister and I are only 18 months apart. Irish twins they say. She is my rock, the only one who sees me for exactly who I am.
After 18 years of feeling locked up in this tiny town, I moved to Tempe to study dance at ASU. I suppose dance could potentially be the most unstable career to pursue, but I couldn’t feel alive without it. I worry more than I should, I drink than I should, and I dance more than I should. None of which lead to the healthiest life, but, hell, I couldn’t be happier.
This past year I have decided that there is only purpose for me is to be apart of and to create great art. And I’m more scared than anyone could possibly imagine. You see, wanting to be submersed in art guarantees two things : instability and poverty. But after growing up on the border I have come to terms that neither of those are a guarantee in life.
I’m about to finish college, the day to be exact is May 3rd. The only things I’ve heard about graduating college are “I don’t know why I wanted to finish” and “The real world is much harder than you’re expecting”. Great… I can’t wait. But honestly I can’t. I intend on spending my summer in Europe (Brussels to be exact) dancing my ass off and looking for a job. Art seems to be found there and that’s just what I’m searching for.
I have a cat. I never imagined I’d be a cat lady at the prime age of 21. But I love Ashbury Williams (that’s his name) more than I love most things. Him and I match with our pale white coloring and blue eyes. I have 4 roommates (yes, that means 5 people live in my house) who will all agree that he is the coolest cat you’ve ever met.
I spend my days with girls (dance doesn’t appeal to many men) and my nights with boys (3 out of the 5 in the house are boys). We live in walking distance from the bars and we take advantage of it more than we should. Most of us have just finished college or are about to. So we’re all ready to embrace and enjoy life for exactly what it is.
Elizabeth
Named after both my Grandmas.
Alice and Beth.
Born and raised in Rio Rico Arizona.
A town that borders Mexico and America.
Seems as though I’ve always been split into two.
My family has two boys and two girls. The oldest are the two boys, The youngest are the two girls. I am the youngest of them all. My sister and I are only 18 months apart. Irish twins they say. She is my rock, the only one who sees me for exactly who I am.
After 18 years of feeling locked up in this tiny town, I moved to Tempe to study dance at ASU. I suppose dance could potentially be the most unstable career to pursue, but I couldn’t feel alive without it. I worry more than I should, I drink than I should, and I dance more than I should. None of which lead to the healthiest life, but, hell, I couldn’t be happier.
This past year I have decided that there is only purpose for me is to be apart of and to create great art. And I’m more scared than anyone could possibly imagine. You see, wanting to be submersed in art guarantees two things : instability and poverty. But after growing up on the border I have come to terms that neither of those are a guarantee in life.
I’m about to finish college, the day to be exact is May 3rd. The only things I’ve heard about graduating college are “I don’t know why I wanted to finish” and “The real world is much harder than you’re expecting”. Great… I can’t wait. But honestly I can’t. I intend on spending my summer in Europe (Brussels to be exact) dancing my ass off and looking for a job. Art seems to be found there and that’s just what I’m searching for.
I have a cat. I never imagined I’d be a cat lady at the prime age of 21. But I love Ashbury Williams (that’s his name) more than I love most things. Him and I match with our pale white coloring and blue eyes. I have 4 roommates (yes, that means 5 people live in my house) who will all agree that he is the coolest cat you’ve ever met.
I spend my days with girls (dance doesn’t appeal to many men) and my nights with boys (3 out of the 5 in the house are boys). We live in walking distance from the bars and we take advantage of it more than we should. Most of us have just finished college or are about to. So we’re all ready to embrace and enjoy life for exactly what it is.
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