Sunday, February 28, 2010

Secrets Posted

13345 Copper Ridge Rd.
Germantown Maryland,

why you ask, do I capitalize all letters of said day? Because waiting for the entirety of the week climaxes to reveal the new postsecrets postcards. I've even heard sometimes if you check late Saturday evening you might just be surprised to find Frank updated early! Though sometimes if I'm feeling full of self-discipline I save the site like candy for a rainy day. 
I think postsecret is a very strange art exhibit. I know that for me, I wouldn't experience much healing sharing my secret anonymously to a world of strangers. But I do think there is healing for the readers, the ones that look on the site and can humanize the world again. Or even to share in the peculiar habit or tendency displayed on the website. Sometimes we forget that everyone is dealing with their own struggles. Our own secrets and issues can just creep up and block our view or ability to empathize. But the site has me walking down the street imagining each person with their own postcard taped to their heart. Most cards are blanks. It's my friends that I can see the illustration. It's like they've invited me into their world to know what they fear, what they dislike about themselves, what they're ashamed of, what they're hiding from the world. Ultimately that is what matters. That you reveal your secrets to someone you trust. That you can open your spoiled inside to another human being that can spur you on to mucking out the damage the fungus has won over. Most secrets do tend to crawl around your insides and infest the soul. And the loneliness of holding something like that in hurts even more. So send in your secret, but share it with someone you love. Though, I should add for the quirky cards, and the happy cards, well I hope those simply aren't real secrets hidden from people we surround ourselves with. I want my people to know the oddities and happies of my life; just like I want to know the card pinned to your heart.

And I won't tell no one your name 
And I won't tell em your name 
I think about you all the time 
But I don't need the same
 It's lonely where you are come back down 
And I won't tell em your name 


from this week...-isn't this juxtaposition beautiful?

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Picture Books

Undergraduate Library, thanks for inspiring me to learn, alternatively.
Claire and I used to read this comic every night before going to sleep. It's like a bedtime story with sass. 
And I figure- Claire and Sarah / Calvin and Hobbes. There's something to it.
Calvin and Hobbes

Watterson admits that Calvin and Susie have a nascent crush on each other, and that Susie is inspired by the type of woman that he himself found attractive and eventually married

"When Hobbes is a stuffed toy in one panel and alive in the next, I'm juxtaposing the "grown-up" version of reality with Calvin's version, and inviting the reader to decide which is truer"
-Bill Watterson 

"But the strip doesn't assert that. That's the assumption that adults make because nobody else sees him, sees Hobbes, in the way that Calvin does. Some reporter was writing a story on imaginary friends and they asked me for a comment, and I didn’t do it because I really have absolutely no knowledge about imaginary friends. It would seem to me, though, that when you make up a friend for yourself, you would have somebody to agree with you, not to argue with you. So Hobbes is more real than I suspect any kid would dream up."
-Bill Watterson

"Calvin is pretty easy to do because he is outgoing and rambunctious and there's not much of a filter between his brain and his mouth. I guess he's a little too intelligent for his age. The thing that I really enjoy about him is that he has no sense of restraint, he doesn't have the experience yet to know the things that you shouldn't do"

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Imagination. for better. for worse.

I guess I've been thinking a lot about fanciful ideas. Often I want to live in these beautiful pictures I post. Living in a world of magic, faeries, avatars and adventure all of the time. But I know that it isn't necessarily best. Sometimes you have to buck up to cold days and walk forward past magical ideas that you'd created in your mind. A healthy appetite for fairy tales is in order. and well, I guess I just wanted to check my own expectations of the world. I've been told often that I want my life to be like the movies. Well yes and no. I don't want to act out every line from 'Memoirs of a Geisha'. But the thing about movies is that its someone's story. A story that someone thought worth noting, where you can really look at the hero/heroine and see their tragic flaws, and hopefully how they ultimately overcome adversity and grow. The story is caught on film, portraying the crucial moments and divulging the heart of the characters. A terrific soundtrack highlights the climax. And yes, as trite as it sounds, Love always wins. At least the movies I prefer. So I want my life to be like the movies. In these ways. Just maybe I'd also like a unique part, but the relating to all human nature part as well. So on my imagination bit, I want to say-I know I will get let down, but I'll move on from it. Imagination can get you stuck from this crucial part because then you let disappointments hold you back from the possibilities that the world has to offer. And that is simply no good. Hiding under your covers is only safe for so long.
I found all of these strange outliers and thought they fit my theme of the evening. Imagination, sometimes its good and sometimes you can take it too far.

This little girl is silly. I mean I feel her. Love hurts. But wow, the emotional depth is impressive. I'm pretty sure at three years old I was attacking strangers in my pink power ranger suit that even hinted at my white power ranger love. no, boys = cooties. Part of me figures its a stunt so Justin Bieber will call her up. It makes me giggle all the same. after a minute skip to 4min.09sec

I saw this link on Talia's blog-Tumbler thing myrootsmywings
The website is off beat bride ... these people are quirky cool
in front of star wars memorabilia? this probably foreshadows my own nuptials
Have I ever mentioned Grey Gardens to you? It was a movie that hit HBO two years ago. Its based off the documentary of Edith and little Edie Beale, cousin to Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis. Here is the NYmag article. It is such a strange story, this young socialite dreamed of being an actress, famous for something other than her cousin. But money began to run out and little Edie had no way to support herself. There may have been a final fit of rebellion shortly after Little Edie moved back to Grey Gardens [the summer cottage turned prison for Edie]. Little Edie’s hair had begun to fall out in her twenties; the family now ascribes it to a stress-borne illness; hence the constant head-coverings. But a family member says that there was a summer afternoon when he watched Little Edie climb a catalpa tree outside Grey Gardens. She took out a lighter. He begged her not to do it.She set her hair ablaze. And in that act of self-immolation, she sealed her fate as a prisoner of the love of her mother. Mother and daughter they lived with cats and racoons. The line between imaginary and reality had been completely erased. Recluse is the nicest way to put the situation.  Edie called cats 'fur people.' In the article she says to the journalist: “Shall I tell you what I’ve done for twenty years? Fed cats. Mother wouldn’t let me go around with American men, they were too rich and fast. She was afraid I’d get married. Nothing has happened in twenty years, so I haven’t changed in any way.”

Edie the young lovely socialite.

Here is little Edie in front of Grey Gardens-where she lived with her mother.

"you don't really care about the trials of tomorrow
rather lay awake in a bed full of sorrow"

I've had this song on repeat.
I'm on the pursuit of happiness. and I know that everything that shines, ain't always going to be gold. I'll be fine, once I get it.

Three cheers to Reality. Possibility. Imagination.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Fly like Paper

i love this picture. i want to be her. lying in the sun. makes me think of that sting song-fields of gold. its really quite lovely. you should hear it. i've wanted to be somewhere different for a while now. maybe it's traveler's bug. but no, i just want to float to somewhere else in the world. a field, a tree, a swingset. this rainy weather usually only inspires hot chocolate and mounds of marshmallows. but today i find myself just looking out the window desiring sunburn and adventure.

Listen to this: Rome and this: Fences and this: 1901
my favorite music i found in Paris
...they'll be playing at your ticket yet?

Gypsy: a member of a nomadic, Caucasoid people of generally swarthy complexion, who migrated originally from India, settling in variousparts of Asia, Europe, and, most recently, North America.traditionally ascribed freedom or inclinationto move from place to place.
Romany: the language of the Gypsies

Dress up is one of my favorite games. Here is brilliant inspiration: 

"I've heard tell that what you imagine sometimes comes true"
-Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

"And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it." 
-Roald Dahl

"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world." 
-Oscar Wilde

"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night." 

This website made me laugh. Before the time of twitter I presume, but she writes out things her boyfriend says and posts them for your entertainment
-When I finally made him shave his damn beard:
"See, this is why I won't let you have nice things. Because you won't let me grow majestic facial hair."

speaking of twitter. and funny things people say, i've been reading up on this man since I was in Cape Town
shit my dad says
theres wisdom hidden somewhere in most of it...
"You worry too much. Eat some bacon...What? No, I got no idea if it'll make you feel better, I just made too much bacon."

weird feeling of the day. all i wanted to do was climb a tree.
 swing my legs over a limb and hang in the air.

hmm. or maybe a swingset.

thank you xkcd for always making my day

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Clara & Gilbert Yager Gallery

Listen to this: cinder and smoke

Time machine back to Sunday, I'm in the bottom of the union going over a project with my group mate. We're sulking over the work that college overwhelms our lives with. When I realized- oh snap, I have a paper due tomorrow, to be written in French, and that can only be done with a prior visit to the Ackland Art Museum. Well, I wrap up said group project and tromp over to the museum. What a gorgeous day though, along the side walk I saw many a friend basking in the sunlight and freshly cut grass. I couldn't help but twirl along Columbia street with music jamming through my head-phones. I came upon the Ackland, fingers crossed that closing early didn't pertain to art lovers. To my delight the doors were unlocked, and so I pulled out one of my ear-buds and asked the receptionist where my gallery was located. As I drifted to a mix bag room of paintings I passed a very happy thing. Live music in the Ackland. Apparently they host a free show every month. And I had just so happened to enter during the performance. After tracing my way through my French teacher's idea of a creative assignment I sat myself down amongst Asian art, including a Tripod vessel. Pieces of Indian art surrounded me-representing religion and commerce, works from the Chinese Tang dynasty sat to my left and right. Amongst these other world pieces I listened to three distinguished gray haired men play these jazz songs:

I only caught the tail end of the show but I was impressed as the lead singer's voice went from light and wispy to deep and gravelly. 
Closing my eyes and leaning back in my chair, I can only presume that the lackadaisacal speed of sound mixed with the accelerated speed of light came together to transport my mind to a jazz lounge somewhere in the heart of Brooklyn. Where the walls are bare rugged brick, and you can see where the cement in between each row dried mid-oozing from being crushed by the repetitive pattern of slab on slab. Smoke puffs drift from the lips of a man holding his worn body up on the brick wall. He taps his foot on the unswept floor. bum. bum. bum. His fumes hang in the air to leave a lingering smell on all who enter, a badge of experience. A woman stands center stage on a wooden platform in a long sequined dress. The white spotlight hits her figure, cutting through the purple hazey atmosophere so that the audience is drawn to her being-not that any trick of light is even needed. If you look close, you can see the beads of sweat collecting on her upper brow. And the strain in her face as the song's lyrics carry memories from her past. She tries to bar them inside, but they seep through the cracks in her face. Her eyes are closed, the eyelids, her line of defense. She sways back and forth on the wooden planks, belting a smooth jazzy sound through the smokey den. 
My eyelids flicker open, I am reminded of my location by the elderly woman to my right. "Is it over dear?" She asks after every song concludes. But to her delight the band plays on.

The calendar of musical days. 

"Two things everybody's got tuh do fuh theyselves. They got tuh go tuh God, and they got tuh find out about livin' fuh theyselves." 

"So she sat on the porch and watched the moon rise. Soon its amber fluid was drenching the earth, and quenching the thirst of the day."
-Their Eyes Were Watching God

This jazzy time, reminded me of the book/movie "Their Eyes Were Watching God." I absolutely adore both. I think Zora Neale Hurston is brilliant. I looked for pictures from the movie but these two were the only ones I could find. But here is a link to the entire movie on youtube. Do it to it. If you watch the eighth part of the youtube bit you'll understand where I got this transition from...


"Kiss me and you'll know how important I am" -Sylvia Plath

"The great thing about getting older is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been." -Madeleine L'Engle

Wandering the bookstore, I stumbled across a ballet book. This sent me to reminiscing land. It's was simply what princesses did. This is the closest I ever came, and I'm pretty sure this was a tap dance/jazz/ballet concert.

"People who are sensible about love are incapable of it." -Douglas Yates
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