leave the house before you find something worth staying in for

After watching Style Wars in my Art 101 class, I feel invigorated to do graffiti art before I die. So it is now on my to do list of things I'd like to accomplish before I die. I've made only one decision about the graffiti art I want to do: that it will be on the ground. That's as much as I am ever going to say. I can tell you why but that's it. One of my best friends from home, no matter where she is, has always sent me pictures and picture texts of graffiti art on the ground she sees, and I the same to her. It's something I've always kept close to my heart, something I've always kept between me and her. The thought of me in a sense crossing her path, though we are apart half the year, is nice. To know I've seen where she's taken a step in the world is something I keep close to me. It makes me feel like we're never apart.

I want whatever graffiti art I decide to do to be a reminder. A reminder of the small things that keep people close together in heart if they can't be together geographically.

Here's to graffiti art and Banksy, for making art that we can cross paths with and that teaches us about our ideals, choices, lives, and the world.

glee glee glee gle-ason

My high school photo teacher is basically one of the biggest factors of truly chiseling me into a photographer, and I think it's because he let me do what I want. He geared my path for a tad bit, but left the creativity and exploration of perspective through a lens to me. He set me free artistically speaking, to the point where I had to create my own voice completely through photography. I accidentely made myself a flickr last summer, and until recently sent my photo teacher the link, which than lead me to catching up on his paintings, and to my surprise, his tumblr. I've seen a handful of his paintings, but some were new. These are some of my favorites, old and new. And here's my flickr for shits and giggles if you're ever bored.

Flickr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wecutthelegsoffofourpants

I think what Gleason helped with was making me feel okay with weird, or cookoo, or wild and absurd, hence his theme of sharp items like knives in his paintings. Most of what I like to capture are the small things in life and observations made about the world and people, but when it came to projects I needed or wanted to set up, I felt okay with doing something absurd. The projects always helped me interpret what he assigned differently and shoot it in my perspective.

Here is his website for those of you interested in browsing:

http://www.markgleason.net/

It's funny because when I go back to visit him, he talks about how he'd rather teach painting than photography. Nonetheless, his ability to let students literally do whatever the hell they want, was what was helpful, and is the kind of teaching style I'd want and wanted to do if I decide to teach photography.

Busy Bee

This blog thing gets hard somtimes. The fact that I had to blog was constantly over my head, it's not that I'm purposefully leaving it to the last minute, I honestly just didn't. Have. Time. This Sunday is weird, and I've discovered it's beacause it's quiet. Everyone is out watching the superbowl. It's nice to have the room to myself right now though, not have everyone here. When you live in the dorms it's hard to get a chance to breathe alone.

I've been meaning to blog about this since my last blog. But I've recently had two epiphany's both related to my major. This isn't EXACTLY about art I guess, but I haven't shared it with anyone and typing it out even if it's only for me to read still makes me feel like I'm sharing it and voicing it.

Epiphany 1:

My great aunt passed away just before finals this past semester. After my art history final I booked it to her funeral service, but made it only in time for the reception after. Regardless of the short time I was there compared to the rest of my family, it was incredible seeing everyone again, cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. By the entrance of the room were poster boards covered with past and present pictures of my great aunt. Old polaroids of her and friends. A black and white photo of her when she was just around 20 years old. Aged photos of her with cousins in Mexico. It was so incredible, just staring at all the photos, sitting with my sister and one of my aunts, talking about who was who, learning more about the family tree, connecting everybody to each other, figuring out how so and so was my aunt and how so and so was my cousin, believe me, when you have a big family it gets hard to keep up. There was one photo though that stood out more than any others I felt.

It sat framed in front of me, at a little alter with more photos of her and flowers. It was of my great aunt and all her kids when they were between 20 and 30 years old. Every single person in the photo was captured in midst of laughter, it was the quintenssence of a Kodak moment. It was as if someone in the photo or the photographer said something funny and everyone began to crack up just as the shutter enclosed that moment forever on a negative.

I couldn't stop staring at the photo. I sat with a fixed gaze on it, and a light somber smile in my eyes. I looked into that picture and saw a happy moment from the past exist today within a frame. It was then that I realized, "photography was the right choice". I came into college wanting to study music, but as great as my passion for music is, it wasn't the same within a system. I couldn't make music competitively, I couldn't make it to be perfect. I make it to vent, express, share, and have fun. I changed my major to photography because it was something I could still love while learning the technical.

Epiphany 2:

Last weekend I drove up home with my sister to surprise my mom for her 50th birthday. All of winter break I spent time going through albums filled with old photos from when my parents were young and we were still little tykes in shirts and a diaper. My sister and I put together an album through shutterfly with old and new photos, mostly old though. To our surprise the album arrived early, just in time for us to wrap it and give it to my mamas when we arrived. My mom loves photos as much as I do. She's always been into putting albums together, taking too many photos, and posing with everyone to have a records of when we were all together.

With a glass of milk and red velvet cake, my mom opened her gift. She couldn't stop smiling while flipping through the pages. You know, that small grin you get on your face, when something just lights your heart, and your eyes are what make the bigger smile? She was so happy with the gift she looked through it a second time, and a third time. The second time we watched as she flipped through it again, and when my sister asked, "Do you like it?" My mom, engaged in the book, replied yes and held back tears.

And that was my second epiphany. Not only did her happiness make the trip so worth while, but seeing my mamas tear up from looking through old pictures of her siblings, parents, kids, and friends, made me again realize why I chose photography and why I love it.

I've discovered this. There are millions of reasons to why I love photos, but with these epiphany's in mind, it's the history. To be able to keep a record of past cherished moments, is what makes photography so beautiful for me. To be able to look back at those cherished moments, places, and people, is something I love being a part of.

I promise the next blog with have something more directly related to art[work] and class. But here's this blog for now.