Wednesday, August 26, 2009

I was once many things, but now I am only several

Check out my new baby:
I found him (or her? I'm not sure yet.) at a used book sale on campus. He has no film and is dusty and old but he is gorgeous, isn't he?

So...anyone know where I can get film for a B-2 Sureshot?

Ebay had better not let me down this time...I can't wait to experiment!
Here are some pictures taken over the course of the past year with my old polaroid:
The road just in front of my house.

Gorgeous cherry blossoms from a college visit.

I love this one because it makes me think of a tidal wave of flowers

New York from the top of the Rockefeller. Yeah, yeah, I'm a tourist....

Evergreen fingers

Friend throwing helicopter seeds. This makes me miss summer...and my friends...
I love my polaroid. I've heard that the new company producing polaroid film will start selling sometime in 2010...until then, my camera will be asleep on my shelf.

I also picked this up at the book sale

I've never really studied photographers, other than Ansel Adams, but I seriously love Mr. Uelsmann's work.

The Photographer's Eye, 1967

His photos are so natural looking, but then also so ethereal. I got chills when I first looked through the book, the photos were so intense.

Poet's House, 1965

Untitled, 1966

It almost makes me think of an old science fiction movie, or a dream

A Moment I Do Not Remember, 1967

Memory and the Sun, 1966

Me in my dorm window, and my new camera...any suggestions for a name? Or a gender, for that matter? My polaroid's name is Bradley.


Saturday, August 22, 2009

The machinery is always going

Even when you sleep.

-Andy Warhol

Lamentation (Martha Graham), 1986
We went to the Warhol Museum a few days ago. Above is my favorite piece of the day.

Silver Clouds, 1966
Silver Clouds is my other favorite piece. We laid on the floor and stayed perfectly still, and watched the pillows float around above us. We were stuck between giggles and awed silence- sometimes the balloons seemed to be attacking us from above, and sometimes they just floated in the same place eerily, as though they were watching us.
I either really like modern art or I'm indifferent to it. But then it's the same way with more traditional, established art. Either way you feel, you gotta admit Warhol was a pretty kickass man.
This is currently hanging in my dorm room, above random shit from Ikea and my chinese lanterns.
Alphonse Mucha is one of my favorite artists- I won't recite his entire autobiography here, but in short he was an artist born in what is currently the Czech Republic in 1860. Although he has always been connected with the Art Nouveau movement ('new art' in French), he refused to acknowledge the connection between him and the movement, which emphasized the art of decoration and everyday life.
Like Warhol, he painted advertisements.
Job Cigarettes, 1897

He idolized famous actors and actresses.

Sarah Bernhardt in Hamlet, 1905

En L'Honneur de Sarah Bernhardt

I don't pretend to be an expert on Art Nouveau, Pop Art, or the life of Alphonse Mucha. It's just interesting to compare them and their beliefs.

The Morning Star, 1902

Andy Warhol created works that glorified everyday, commercial art, like his famous Campbell Soup Can series.
Mucha dismissed the term 'Art Nouveau' and grew frustrated at his growing fame in connection with commercial art.
The work that he was most proud of, his fine art masterpiece, is the least known of all of his pieces.
These are just a couple of the 20 pieces of the Slav Epic, which depicts the spirit and history of the Czech people.

I don't know why but I'm incredibly drawn to his work. The forms, the light, colors- everything.

Now that the pretentious rant is done with, the shallow rant follows:

All from Topshop, except for the first one, which is from chickdowntown. Just things I want but can't have. Y'know. The usual.

Steve Powers' Love Letter Project

I will forever love the man who graffitis a wall for me.


Saturday, August 15, 2009

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose

I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
I'll write you a postcard
I'll send you the news
From a house down the road from real love...

I leave for university tomorrow

I've spent the last few days meeting with friends and saying goodbye to favorite places.

And trying to fit all my earthly possessions into two plastic containers from Ikea.

My friends and I played in this forest almost every day when we were little. We made a little house out of old bricks and wood- it was pretty advanced for second graders if I say so myself. We even had a thatched roof until a storm blew it down.

The ruins of the house. I tied my lucky ribbon to that stick so many years ago and it's still there.

It was a bit bittersweet because we always used to sit on this enormous log that jutted out from the side of the hill onto another tree, like a huge bench in the air. We tried to sit on it now and we pretty much broke it. That didn't stop us from sitting on it anyway though. What lovely, stubborn log-breaking people we have grown into over the years.

What a perfect tree for sitting and pretending to be a fairy

Beautiful mangled wood

We successfully scared away wildlife with our old panflute, bought from Mayan musicians at an arts festival back when there still was an arts festival at our town.

Over this log is a magical kingdom

This was pretty much the most incredible thing we found that day- on the side of a hill we found this little patch of pure white roses. I'm not sure if they really were roses but they looked so much like them- only they were small and entirely white and smooth.
They reminded me of some Tim Burton illustration, they looked so ethereal. We decided to give them company in the form of a red hawk feather we had found. They were so tiny and gorgeous and looked so unreal.

My sushi-making skills are definitely improving. This one has tuna, salmon, asparagas, cucumber, and avocado. YUMYUMYUM
When you give a mouse a cookie he asks for crepes

Now which books should I take with me???....