I guess it was too crowded.  The room thinned out with a quickness.  I never deal with selfish shelving of people, especially after a decent exchange of vulnerabilities.  I won’t count out loud how many I’ve lost in the last few seasons or why.  I will say that there is a recognition of a ‘before version of myself’ (pre-Micah’s suicide) and an ‘after version of myself.’  So, when Brad Stand asks “How am I not myself today?”, I have a fairly good idea.  Unfortunately, like many people contemporarily measure their worth in what remains in their direct proximity.  Often, and more often in my case, it is measured in people.  I don’t know if this is right or if this is wrong, but based on my observations in the world around is that things are not constant, linear, immutable.  I’m more comfortable of my transient being.  There is less opposition to the application of this in all areas.  I’m not laying my head back for some predator to take an easy kill.  I just feel confident that the disappearance of particular peoples has nothing to do with the measurement of my worth.  I am sure that the weathered rails welcome my seat on that very familiar path from the chin of Lake Michigan to the seedy underbelly of Indiana.  With that being said, I am still a romantic creature that must accept that the falling into another animated thing is a rare thing for me to do.  The guards are traditionally up.  When I let it go, I too often give it all away.  I’m tired of feeling horrible about that.  I’m tired of watching it make ‘you’ disappear because the imaginary obligation is too much for you to handle.  I am lucky for the people and other animated things that wish to see more than that and stick around.  I have so many good faces that have watched some crazy baby narratives and some silly static eras.  I am lucky.  I am extraordinarily lucky.

Where are there no seasons?

I’ve been working on narrative.  I’m having a hard time.  It isn’t the typical story formula that is giving me trouble, but the braiding of myth, history, and (zeitgeisted)  personal narrative.  There is so much to choose from and I feel a bit overwhelmed.  I feel like Owen in Throw Momma From the Train.  If you are unfamiliar with the scene, here is a rough synopsis: Larry (Billy Crystal) and Owen (Danny DeVito) aren’t really friends. Owen wants Larry to kill his mother. The fillm parallels Hitchcocks Strangers on a Train and eventually Larry visits Owens house where he meets his mother and where Owen shows Larry his prized coin collection:

OWEN: You want to see my coin collection?

LARRY: No!

O: But it’s my collection

L: I don’t care. Look, Owen: I’m just not in the mood. OK?

O: (Removing a box from under the floor boards, lying on his belly like a small child at play, and beginning to extract the coins from their envelopes) I never showed it to anyone before.

L: (impatiently) All right. I’ll look at it.

O: No, it’s OK.

L: Show me your collection.

O: No, you don’t mean it.

L: (with exasperation) Show me the damned coins!

O: (Happily) All right. This is a nickel. And this one, also is a nickel. And here’s a quarter. And another quarter. And a penny. See? Nickel, nickel, quarter, quarter, penny… And here is another nickel.

L: (Bewildered) Why do you have them?

O: What do you mean?

L: Well the purpose of a coin collection is that the coins are worth something, Owen.

O: Oh, but they are. This one here, I got in change when my dad took me to see Peter, Paul, and Mary. And this one I got in change when I bought a hot dog at the circus. My Daddy used to let me keep the change. Uh, this one is my favorite. This is Martin and Lewis at the Hollywood Palladium. Look at that. See the way it shines, that little eagle? I loved my Dad a lot.

L: (Realizing) So this whole collection is, uh…?

O: Change my Daddy let me keep.

L: (tenderly) What was his name?

O: Ned. He used to call me his “Little Ned.” That’s why Momma named me “Owen.” I really miss him.

L: That’s a real nice collection, Owen.

O: Thank you, Larry.

This is currently where my expression is; production of convincing heirlooms with inherent narrative and ‘worth.’ I admittedly will braid information from another’s documentation or narrative with personal, narrative, or a zeitgeisted narrative. When the full braid is ready to manifest physically, I impart as much genuine palpability as possible. My end goal is irrelevant, but I’d hope that the authentic ‘thing’ that I extend will hold internal and external (referable) value and be the origin of a multitude of narratives. Lastly, and I hope this doesn’t come across too much as an immortal extension of my self to outlive the narrative of my existence, but I am trying to impart a investigation outside of my small frame of being. I want the story to extend beyond my lifespan; before, during and after.  I am rooting for myth trumping history. I am planning ambiguity in the already ambiguousness of the “thing.” As Bill Brown notes in his essay, Thing Theory (p. 4),

“As they circulate through our, we look through objects (to see what they disclose about history, society, nature, or culture—above all, what they disclose about us, but we can only catch a glimpse of things. We look through objects because there are codes by which our interpretive attention makes them meaningful, because there is a discourse of objectivity that allows us to use them as facts. A thing, in contrast, can hardly function as a window. We begin to confront the thingness of objects when they stop working for us: when the drill breaks, when the car stalls, when the window gets filthy, when their flow within the circuits of production and distribution, consumption and exhibition, has been arrested, however momentarily.”

I’d like to take the thing from the place it has ‘lived,’(destroy), braid the narratives/myth (build), then put it back in the contemporary ‘sister’ of it’s home (destroy). You might notice that this is both the same framework and function of Andrew W.K.’s Cartoon Network Show called, Destroy-Build-Destory. The parallel is not an accident. This process of working is not only altruistic, but intentionally blurring the lines of ‘origin’ and real alteration. For example, if I cut down a tree to make paper to make a book to give a gift to you. You keep the book for awhile, then place it back in the world either because you cease to possess it or it finds its way out of your possession and back to the forest where it decays. What is harmed and helped in this process? Is there a source?

“The Architecture and Myth” series, where I am starting with a specific oral and/or written tale, immersing it into contemporary settings/characters/plot , intermingling personal myths and finally documenting the results of this braiding. I’ve decided to start with formulaic experiments in this series to aid in the prevention of tangents. The formula will consist of starting with two or three very specific points of original interest in the folk tale (i.e. the candy structure of the witch’s house in Hansel and Gretel, and the romanticism of “the journey” or wanderers) and braiding these ideas together with going on a derive of their historical and documented facts, expressions in lore, and findings in contemporary myth. In my second series, “Everything is a Character, Every Character has a Cape”, I will use the small experiments and execute them in both infinitely larger and infinitely smaller. My first attempts in this project were at a scale that mirrors the human form but placed on what are categorized as “inanimate” forms. At this point, I am ready to make tiny capes for fleas and, in theory, a cape for this solar system. Lastly, in the “Reparlay” series, where I revisit my 28 residences, I will continue to document the remainder of varied the homes and neighborhoods. I’ve started the documentation in digital photographs and for the sake of continuity in the beginning stage, I will continue to use digital photography. Again, these three projects have an end plan of braiding the original impetus for each. I have entertained the plan that the final medium will be a souvenir book that takes all of the indexes, processes, plans, origins of lore, tangents, coherent immersion with personal lore and myth, and varied artistic expressions of my externalized response to the internal workings of reactions to all of the above mentioned.

I am leaning towards a professionally bound book in contrast to an artist book, one that could be shelved in a consumer market. I’ve always had a respect for the book. It’s form/ shell has barely wavered and even internal expressions have maintained fair. The book-form has given me a reasonable pocket worth of escape.

With all of this being said, if I were to wantonly place my current artistic endeavors in a movement or theme, I would name it “Furnishing the Braided Frame.” (with frame being the skeleton of my definition of a thing that has history (i.e. a structure or a body) and frame as temporal measurement).

I can only postulate what mediums, methods, or choice of venue will be chosen. I have been vigorous on developing my language of making and extending things so that when it becomes appropriate to develop and show I will have a vocabulary to choose from. Lately, however, I have seen that using my inks and brushes on all scales has proven to be a form of planning; a shifting blueprint. Then, I will develop the idea sculpturally and document it.

There is much to share.  It will all be posted in due time.  Bits and pieces here and there.  I feel so full ( of goodness, not shit) and there is this pressure that may leak, and hopefully not burst/explode.  Crossing fingers while I sleep.

I still miss you, terrible.  I’m off.

I don’t use this very often, so when I do please take heed.

In a nutshell, my Uncle Jeff is sick.  He has cancer.  If that isn’t enough, my Aunt Suzi has lost her job during the last couple weeks of his chemotherapy.  It’s overwhelming.  I cannot express how much they as individuals and as a couple have shaped the compassionate and tethered person that I am today.  They deserve an extension of kindness, in response to the many extensions they have given to the world.  Trust that much.  Below is information on how you can help, if you choose to do so.

Kaplan Kicks Cancer Benefit

September 14, 2009

To Whom It May Concern,

In late April 2009 Jeff Kaplan, a lifelong Lake County resident and active community member, was diagnosed with cancer of the tongue. He has been undergoing aggressive treatment at the University of Chicago, which entails spending alternating weeks in the hospital. There, Jeff receives chemotherapy 24 hours a day in addition to daily radiation. Thankfully, Suzi, his wife of forty years, carried their health insurance from her job. A few weeks ago, the company where Suzi worked for the past seventeen years released her. Thus, Jeff and Suzi are now uninsured. Jeff requires this aggressive treatment to be able to continue his brave fight against cancer.

This is where we are asking for your help. A benefit is being held Saturday, October 24, 2009, at the Hammond Marina to assist Jeff and Suzi with their rising medical bills. While we know that the economy is struggling, we are hoping that you are able to contribute to this event. If you are able to donate, monetarily or in the form of a prize to be raffled during the event, it would be greatly appreciated.

With the support of his wife, four children, family and friends, Jeff’s positive spirit during this battle has not wavered. Please join us in helping, “Kaplan Kicks Cancer.” Please contact Debbie at (219)384-3373 to help make this benefit a success.

Warmly,

Friends and Family of Jeff Kaplan

For more information please call the number :  (219)384-3373 or email:  annaraelandsman@mac.com

much love.

We think of a seed as a symbol of the beginnings of a growing being.

Have mercy on our sins. My bones would tremble if my mind weren’t stabilized with pharmaceuticals.

Unconditional love would not allow the opportunity to hurdle this risk… this challenge.

I will not allow the residual emotions left from antagonistic exchanges overshadow the glee that we have transferred. It’s a huge risk to put someone else in the fenced target of your actions…. who knows what arrow gets pulled?  And is it pulled from quiver or body?

I have to tell you this… If I *have to look backwards… I am glad I was that archery field.  I have untangled you as the nominal enemy/opposition.  Will you please do the same for me?

<p>We think of a seed as a symbol of the beginnings of a growing being.  </p>
<p>Have mercy on our sins.  My bones would tremble if my mind weren’t stabilized with pharmaceuticals.   </p>
<p>Unconditional love would not allow the opportunity to hurdle this risk… this challenge.  </p>
<p>I will not allow the residual emotions left from antagonistic exchanges overshadow the glee that we have transferred.  It’s a huge risk to put someone else in the fenced target of your actions…. who know what arrow is pulled?  </p>
<p>I have to tell you this… If I <i>*have</i> to look backwards… I am glad I was that archery field.&nbsp; I have untangled you as the nominal enemy/opposition.&nbsp; Will you please do the same for me?<br></p>

call for seamstress:

I’m working with the magnificent folks on the set of this MOVIE

We are hoping to find a dedicated and “timely compassionate” SEAMSTRESS for work on an independent film in Champaign / Urbana IL.

This is a perfect opportunity for anyone in academia to work on a film set and get some great experience.

It is an independent film with drama, dancing, music, glam, and love. We are looking for someone to generously dedicate themselves. Wardrobe projects include from moderate to advanced tailoring in costume/wardrobe. If you want to be inspired by concentrated and visionary beings, get a free room, a couple meals a day, and endless comic relief… in compensation for your awesome seamstress/ costume tailor experience and being in close proximity with super cool individuals….let me know… asap (annaraelandsman@me.com)

Dates: ASAP-June 26th … or any chunk of time you are willing to contribute.

Art: I’ve been making houses from and in the forests.  I’m telling you about Hansl and Gretl.  I’m telling you there was more than one house.  I’m telling you that it is not over and the story is always happening.  The character isn’t limited to the phenomenon at eye level.  There is space, time, and animated bodies outside of every human’s eye level.  We are all characters in this narrative.  So is the frame of a house, so is the frame of a film, and so is the frame of a nucleus.  I’ve been thinking about our capitalistic and instant gratifiying cravings and fulfillments.  When I tried to come to terms with why I respect the forest so much, I concluded that it rarely holds either of these traits.  You cannot conjure a 1,000 year old oak at whim.  That is a comforting thought.

School: It’s chugging along.  I feel like the studio work is less reactive and more meticulous.  This is a huge improvment and allows for clearer follow-through.

People: I am still in distress about people in my life (and out), and quite possibly will be … infinitely, because of these two faults of mine:  one: i measure my worth in the people i keep.  two:  I (and this is more rare than the former) let people conclude my worth based on the relational value of things (any.things).  Every person that turned into a ghost in my egotistical realm of narrative has looked back and said, “she is talented and intelligent.”  and that leaves me to wonder what i lack that keeps others from sticking around.  I mean, I think I know at this point, but is it worth suppressing certain “flaws” to make each interaction less confrontational?  Okay, fine, probably.

Travel: At the expense and with the help of PJ, I am one inch closer to a better credit report.  With that, I am most likely going to be able to choose either to move to a larger city for the next academic school or take a trip outside of the US… Canada not included.  Suggestions welcome.  Within  the last five years, I have racked up quite a few adult travel experiences.  East/West coasts… not too much in between.  I am a firm believer in that before you leave your home you should really know your home.  I know the edges.

In other news, this summer is full.  I am going to Champagne – Urbana to apprentice with a costume designer on an independant film.  The day I return to LaFayette, Phil and I will be departing for Portland Maine.  We are driving this year, so I hope to stop in Philly and DWG.  So, one month in IL and two in ME.  I can’t even begin to postulate how this summer in Maine will be.  I know that the bond that our graduate class has is growing and I am excited to engage in that level, and as far as the actual academic are concerned… well… it will be a complete immersion i assume in thesis foundation, theorizing galore, and obviously plunging head first and fearlessly into making making making.  As far as what will happen after the summer I am not quite sure as of yet.  Most likely I will be relocating to Chicago… for the third time.

Virtual high-five if you’ve read this far.  It is a Monday, here in the sleepy Midwest.  I don’t feel landlocked.  I do feel like I am reading more than making.  All worth it in the end.  (keep saying it.  keep saying that)

Sometimes I think that the way people like to “share” work is by (and I quote a hilarious CANADIAN comedian …wow that really rolls off the tongue there.  Regardless, his name is Eugene Mirman) by shoving a fucking loaf of bread in your GODDAMN ear.  Because.. I can?  This bothers me sometimes.  If you say you are a Satanist, you are not being an “alternative” or apart from Christianity.  You are letting it define you.  The story writes you, instead of the other way around.  This is a thin example, but a decent one.  In the same vein, if you are a constant antagonist-you are letting the traditional definition of both good and evil write your reactions.

I have an extreme desire to return to San Francisco for four reasons.  KM, RE (whom I would like to use this ethereal moment ((and by ethereal I am by no means suggesting that the internet is heaven.  I am merely stating that it is something that transmits information in a way that I don’t completely understand and therefore will commit its existence to a place outside of the realm of my meager existence.))  to say that I am all the way behind anything you do.  You are at a distance … only in theory and I still think of you as an integral part of my life, The Long Now Foundation, and TR.  Of course, seeing the sea wouldn’t be too terrible either.

I have to admit, things in my moment to moment have seemed to be a lot more slippery as of late.  I am thinking before everything I expel. This is good.  This IS good.  I am solidifying my spirituality.  After a long logical hiatus (Thanks to a cetain cowboy and Foucault)  And most importantly, I am accepting and not rejecting the uncertainty in a day.  I have fixed what needs to be fixed.  And left behind what needs left behind.  I feel extraordinarily lucky as a human being right at this very moment.

I apologize for offending anyone out there.  However, it is x-mas time and the Jew is bored.  So A and I did some mad libs:

Dear Sweetheart,
I lay awake all jesustime thinking of you, your warthoggy smile, and our tryst in the bolivias butt.   How Bonely, I recall our meeting, how my heart banged with blueballsidly when I first saw you.  How sandpappery you looked in that blister red fun factory bandito dildo and those two chaiffed jockstraps on your blueballs!
I cherished every moment we were together and was gassy when our date came to a close. I can’t say how horndogly I regret spilling papal fluid on your fused fingers; you were dharmamegha about it, however, for which I am grateful. You are so beautiful when you’re dharmamegha.
You’re bloated most other times. Your eyes are like deep pools of teat milk, warmed in the moonlight. Your cheeks are as rosy as facebook stalkers. Your lips are like succulent pigasses(fried). Your hair is black = “#000000″ like an animalllllllll! (muppet babies) on a summer’s day. Your non-functioning ovaries are two 2 ton hessie muscular anuses of liquid latex.
I can’t wait to fist with you again. Write soon.
Conely,
Your Friend

and I doctored up a email x-mas card.clicksy

Nothing says “Happy Holidays” like being a dick.

I feel like I am fuzed to the bed.  Reading and learning French.  Sorting out music, files, backups.  Catching up on emails, posts, and thoughts.  I posted all the 35mm Montreal pictures :

overhere

We have decided to officially host Game Night here on Saturdays at 6pm.  You are all invited.  I want to start having other things here like meditation, wheel throwing, glazing, etc.  I feel like we have so much space and equipment that it would be a shame to not open it up to friends.

I have been thinking about scales lately.  Models.  When in Montreal there were three different pieces that were works on model scale.  I couldn’t take pictures of two, but I thought it interesting that it was at three different museums.  Also, since we got the train set (!) I have been trying to think of how to make a cohesive environment for the tracks to be laid.  Now that we have a kiln I can actualize some of what I was intrigued by.

I’ve also been thinking about madness, magicians, carnivals, and hospitals.  Looking at that typed out made me think, ‘things really haven’t changed.’  But the difference is that I am not just working as a reactor and loosely manipulating what I already know of these subjects and placing them in charicatures on a paper or canvas.  I want to do the research justice.  I have found that if I am going to make it a cartoon, then instead of making 300 little vomitous representations I will sit and think before I execute.  It has been a hard habit to break, but I think I have finally reached the point where I am not just reacting (where the worth is defined by the amount and suffering).  And the comic is still going to be a reality.  Keep an eye out for news on its release.  I don’t have a name yet, maybe I will suffer through that.

Tonight is my last night in Montreal Quebec.  We spent an overwhelming four days here.  We were immersed into so many pools of interest: art texte, local artists, CCA, Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal, Stew Stop, Metro, Architecture, Alternative Auberge, Concordia University, Peter Flemming, Mount Royal, Little Italy, Saint Laurent, and most importantly… Drawn and Quarterly.  All of the stress and tension has been worth the holiness of that structure.  It is where I want people to ask for my book in urgency.

This is the end of a long semester.  Cheers!  I can’t really vocalize my feelings on how school is going because, and I am not exaggerating here, my esteem and happiness (regarding and not regarding but influenced by), is currently orbiting directly around the sun of an institutionally defined worth.  I love so many things about being intellectually overwhelmed.  I love so many things about feeling my tired hands as I lay down.  I love the exhaustion, the will necessary to keep on, etc.  The one thing I do not like is when I fall into that trap of definition of worth based on the test or survey of another, especially when that “other” is really just a cog in the organism of a regurgitated structure (the Art World).  With all that being said, I can legitimately say that I am engaged in my work.  I am definitely refining my ways of compartmentalizing and vocalizing my ideas.  I am learning to zoom in and out of the subject at the appropriate times.  I am suppressing the urge to go insane by the multi-contradictory suggestions.  I am trying to do things right the first time.  Step quieter.  Move with purpose (mouth, feet, hands, et al).

In other news, my cousin, Dana, is engaged!  We are still at the dojo.  I still want to build a tree/hobbit house.  My hair is getting long again.  I still get tired of writing blogs instead of talking to you in real life.

Pictures to come soon, my friends.