 |
| beach. |
under certain circumstances failing, losing, forgetting, unmaking, undoing, unbecoming, not knowing may in fact offer more creative, more cooperative, more surprising ways of being in the world.
-judith halberstam
10/22/12
10/21/12
10/20/12
saturday.
 |
| golden ring. |
i stumbled into a free dance class across the street from the old library, which is where i was living. the class was from 5-5:30. i swung my arms in the air. an older woman with a black pony tail grabbed my hand. i couldn't let go and apologized while we flew through the air locked as one. i spun around in circles fast and with my eyes closed. i ended up on the ground. i walked back to the library with a heavy golden ring (like the kind a tiger would hop through for a treat). i squeezed through the chairs of two old men. i used their shoulders to prop myself up onto the next level. one of them said, "there ya go."
10/19/12
friday.
 |
| near lasalle & congress. |
breaking things into small parts today. knocking things off of my list. i'm also making soup.
10/18/12
thursday.
 |
| sign filled environment (jesse howard). |
i can't think of anything to write today. i like this picture.
10/17/12
wednesday.
 |
| waste basket. |
it seems even more forgotten now in the fall. the tennis courts are empty and locked. the shirtless lunch break sunbather isn't there. the nursing school students aren't smoking cigarettes. i can sit where i want without anyone looking. the benches are empty.
10/16/12
tuesday.
 |
| floor. |
train car: 2 people making out near the door, an old guy with a suitcase in a suit trying to keep a conversation going with the man he's traveling with, someone reading an electronic story in between texts, a guy with a bike who decides to sit on the bike like he's going to ride it down the aisle, the girl in front of me has long dyed black hair, i say excuse me at my stop and the lady next to me stands up.
10/15/12
monday.
 |
| logan square stop. |
...the investigation of the adaptations made by the personality in its adjustment to the forces that lie outside of it.
-georg simmel.
10/14/12
10/13/12
10/12/12
10/11/12
thursday.
 |
| candy store. |
in the role of a teacher, when you’re trying to help an artist think
through his or her work, you can’t do it from the clarity you possess. to be helpful, you have to share the artist’s blindness to a certain
degree. if you don’t, then there will be two people who don’t understand
each other, a critic and an artist, for instance.
-guillermo kuitca.
10/10/12
wednesday.
 |
| tv with things. |
i visited the roger brown study collection today for the first time. electricity! i sketched weird shapes and peeked inside of his bedroom. there were 3 containers filled with pennies next to the bed.
10/9/12
10/8/12
monday.
 |
| color jam. |
they clapped and screamed to get their wiggles out while their teacher played guitar and sang.
10/7/12
10/6/12
10/5/12
friday.
 | |
| installation in progress.. |
tonight i met the moms of 2 people i know mostly through dance or at least through the way that they move. we moved two tables from the lobby into the stage area for a post show reception. white wine, red wine, seasoned popcorn and dip. not sure if the pact's official but i'm holding the holder accountable: a walk to hammond within the next couple a weeks is on.
10/4/12
10/3/12
wednesday.
 |
| hilton reflected. |
it used to be you had to spend at least five dollars to use a debit card at the grocery store near where they just tore down the mcdonalds on milwaukee. i think they changed the rule!
10/2/12
10/1/12
9/30/12
sunday.
 |
| shapes. |
today: the whole neighborhood smelled like chemicals, a warehouse just north of us spent the night burning, i played basketball, i read about instructional objectives, observables versus unobservables, i cut the feet off of an old blue pair of socks, i've got one on each arm, i worried about a lot of little things, i ate cantaloupe and brussel sprouts for dinner.
9/29/12
9/27/12
thursday.
 |
| weights for tents. |
fresh outta school and loud in the back of the bus. i listened to your jokes and watched an old man shake his head. you all seemed so wide awake.
9/26/12
9/25/12
9/24/12
monday.
 |
| michigan. |
...the spatial forms and fantasies through which a culture declares its presence.
-paul carter.
9/23/12
9/21/12
friday.
 |
| lap. |
the map presents us with the reality we know as differentiated from the reality we see and hear and feel. the map doesn't let us see anything, but it does let us know what others have seen or found out or discovered.
-denis wood.
9/20/12
9/19/12
wednesday.
 |
| switching seasons. |
i sat across from you on the train this morning. both sides of your colored pencils were sharpened and you were loudly humming. your bags touched the feet of the man next to you. he was reading the red eye while you drew. your hair was grey and wild.
9/18/12
tuesday.
 |
| view. |
it can help to remember that feeling unsettled or awkward is often a necessary and natural stage in learning and will pass with practice.
-paula denton.
a new tattoo?
9/17/12
monday.
 |
| snip. |
i was waiting on one side of the barn. a boy asked if i needed a ride. i knew i did but didn't know where i was going. i said yes. he said it wouldn't hurt before looping a lasso around my ankles. as i flew through the air i repeated the words just trust this three times in my mind. i landed on the other side of the barn. the landing was rough. i stayed on the ground with my feet tied together. i was late to the wedding, which is where i was supposed to be going. my grandfather was the first to see me arrive. i couldn't hear the words of the ceremony. i jumped into a small pond with my cousins and uncle. we took pictures of each other and the water. it occurred to me right then while swimming that the evidence we were collecting would make this night seem more natural or normal. our being together was strange in right now but the pictures would only show our laughter and wet hair.
9/16/12
9/15/12
9/13/12
9/12/12
9/10/12
monday.
 |
| near clark and monroe. |
keep public schools safe from private corporate monsters.
-a sign at the rally.
9/9/12
9/8/12
saturday.
 |
| advance uniform. |
i sat in a high-backed chair painted black in a room i'd never been in before. i had on an over-sized khaki colored shirt i like to wear. on the tv were sea creatures pretending to be screen savers but i knew they were real. i was called down to the gallery where a man sat near a giant wall of windows. it was so bright in there. i could barely see his face. a bunch of my drawings were there hanging in a row. the man asked how i was able to make the blue crystals so shiny in the one closest to him. it was a strip of blue tape crumpled up. i didn't want to disappoint him so i acted like he meant it as a compliment and not a question. i smiled instead of answering.
9/7/12
9/6/12
9/5/12
wednesday.
 |
| field museum. |
teenagers, a young person and dinosaur bones. i spent the day drawing old artifacts while thinking about my past and present.
9/4/12
tuesday.
 |
| tow zone. |
i watched the giant waves move the wind while holding onto the bushes near shore for support. i saw a building collapse into pieces of dust through the window of my classroom. i thought i knew a girl who lived there. moments later a rectangular parking garage on the roof of the high rise next door fell fast through the ground. i heard the men sweeping up the mess whisper their escape plan. they were in on the disaster. i knew i should tell someone but didn't and followed a long empty hallway to another room instead.
9/3/12
9/2/12
sunday.
 |
| letters. |
a birthday, a young one, it was the day. i hung back painting turquoise stripes on the table cloth after defending my purpose for hanging back. we were all in a garage. some of the kids buried their heads into the shoulders of some other kids. i screwed up. dirty looks, head shakes, an infinity pool.
9/1/12
saturday.
 |
| layers. |
we watched an apartment building light up in flames last night on our walk home from tacos.
8/30/12
8/29/12
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