College will be the death(rebirth) of me

When the smell of rot leaked out from between your teeth and the floorboards, i knew something was up.
"Sarah, believe me, i want you to be an artist"
there are wiry grey hairs sprouting from her scalp and covering her cataract eyes. I want to be taken seriously. I look down at my fingers and they are fat stumps, my cheeks are swelling and growing rosier. I am a child in her eyes.
"even though i may not understand all the time, i appreciate your passion and i think it's what you were born to do."
I want to curl up in the warmth. my head is swollen and my neck is weak. I have to support myself with my feeble arms. She looks down on me and her bones are showing, they never have before. One, Two, Three, three again? fuck.
"you can make it in the big city, i believe in you."
There is the sound of coffin-makers in the distance, banging the rich dark wood of her final home into the familiar shape that beckons the kiss of death. My arms and legs curl inward, my stomach sprouts the cord that gave me life, pulsing and blue.
"I know that this means a lot to you. and i know you don't care for money or a big house like i do. I just want you to know that this isn't a lucrative business and you have to know what you're getting yourself into."
She is stepping into the box, smoothing the satin inlay with her spider fingers and fixing her white dress over her knobby knees. I am bug eyed and tiny, i can no longer speak.
"besides, what does it matter? we are all just maggots and worms in the end."
she kisses me goodnight.

Paradigm Shift

For the first time in my life, i really am standing at a significant turning point. In two months, i apply to art school for college. In 5 months, i (hopefully) get in and make a down payment. I go to prom, i graduate, i go on The Great Trip to California with Jim and have the time of my life. In ten moths i leave this town, my family, Jim. I listen to the Strokes and think of him. I see an eagles jersey on the street and think of home. I will listen to music and cry alone in my twin sized bed where i'm sure many people have fucked and felt nothing. I will walk down dark alleys very late at night in the city and feel very afraid, or, i will hope for someone to come along and take my life as i've been to afraid to all those jaded times before. I'll see all my old favorite bands in new venues and feel the same way i did in Philly, or in my car, or in your arms when we sang to each other. I will have my house in the Pacific Northwest, it will smell of cedar and have a tin roof. I will be painting then too-- but i wonder if it'll still be your reflection i'll see in the strokes of wet paint. 

I wonder if i will ever bleach my hair like i want to. I wonder if i'll even be happy in the city during college, or if i should just follow you down south like i know a small part of each of us wishes. I wonder what will happen when i come home for summers and i drive by your house and someone else is waiting for you in the driveway. I wonder if my friends will ever forget the horrible things i did when i was young. I wonder if i will ever forget the people who have broken my heart in past years, or if they'll forever be reserved in the mini-hell i created for them. Is it possible that one day will be my last day in Philadelphia? will my favorite diner go bankrupt or my favorite book store get boarded up with the new wave of EBooks being just too irresistible?

 Will i ever hate art and what it's done to me? What i've done to myself???

Current Stat(us)

This month has brought upon me a paradigm shift.
If i have to write one more fucking college essay i will kill someone, literally. i feel like doing all this preliminary work to apply to schools I most likely won't make it into is a true test of my patience (which is wearing thin, for friends, parents, and especially myself.)
Please don't ever clean out your car. I love seeing little pieces of your life slapped into the backseat. its very poetic, if you can write it down in the right way.
New York City is very intimidating-- i cant do it by myself.
I'm so ready for you and what we have ahead of us. He makes me feel very alive, somewhere in between the sheets in his bed and our sweaty palms on car rides home, i found myself in the noise.
I get very dizzy when i think about you sinking down between my legs. I love the feeling of your hair and the smell of the crook of your neck.
"i was thinking about maybe applying to NYU"
Colleges are emailing me non stop and i cant help but feel as though its false flattery-- like most other things in my life.
except this, being your aforementioned girl.
train ride home from the city, i will try to tell you i will choke on fear
perfume of romance, tu-lip(s) petals jammed into my mouth and growing from bruised collars
10 months.
10 months.
i really like you too
$8 and 5 condoms because we didn't use the last few
Maybe college wont work out, i can come live at your house
you're all i need but i'm pretty sure my parents will never see, ah, let it be.
because you are water twelve feet deep and i am boots made of concrete
"is it weird that i really enjoyed that?"
10 months
colleges are asking for my permanence, but i left it all in the grooves of your vinyls and the space between your eyes.

"Girl Crushez" how my peer-goddesses got me through high school

When i first met Brigid, she was dating my older ( and totally rad) cousin, Ryan. I was ten. She was 15. She took me to flea markets and taught me how to shoot a camera. She was my first girl crush, i found myself ALWAYS asking Ryan to hang out. i must've been pretty fucking annoying to a 17 year old boy trying to score with his totally beautiful girl, but i didn't care. Brig made me feel welcome, even though i totally cramped her bohemian style with my pre-pubescent voice and lavender crocs. On my 14th birthday, she wrote me a note. i was heading into my freshman year of high school, and she wrote me a handwritten, 2 page long letter about how much high school fucking sucks; and she was right.

During my sophomore year, i had a long-distance admiration/obsession with another girl, Emily. she was a great artist, had the most beautiful hair, and always wore a Fleet Foxes crop top. I never spoke to her, or even met her, but i loved her anyway. i looked forward to seeing her everyday, i took the long route to class to see what great outfit she was wearing that day. i used to feel really weird about this secret admiration, but i came to realize, i wasn't alone. not only was i not alone, but I was the admiration of someone's eye too.

During my junior  year of highschool, i made a great friend, Bailey. we had absolutely nothing in common, but we made it work anyway. actually, its still pretty fucking weird that we're close. she'd talk to me about taylor swift and i'd talk about artists i was following but for some reason, things always still worked. She told me she thought i was the coolest thing, like somehow wearing Black Flag t shirts and reading Rookie Mag made me special or individual. It was a weird concept to grapple with, especially when i realized i was Bailey's Brigid, or Emily or Hazel Cills (another long-term girl crush).
At first, i was flattered. i think admiration from anyone your age is a pretty rad thing to receive every once in a while. But the more i thought about it- the more uncomfortable it made me. I was no where near as beautiful as Brigid, as graceful as Emily or as kick-ass as Hazel. I was--me; i ate pb&j sandwiches everyday and i read a lot of Jane Austen and built sets for my school musicals. I felt like a nobody, but on someone's eyes i was great, and you know what, that's pretty fucking cool.
As i started to come to terms with my new found follower, i realized that being admired wasn't the worst thing. i was scared because i had spent so much of my high school career hiding in the library, eating lunch with my English teacher, and i never thought people noticed me. I was also oddly intimidated by the comment, because all of the women i admired i thought were pseudo-goddesses, and i could never be on their "level", whatever that means.
As i've grown older and learned more and more about myself and my passions, I'm not nearly as insecure as i was. I've started zining, and blogging more actively and writing music. I still actively follow some of my old girl crushes on tumblr, twitter etc, and i even visit Brigid at college sometimes too. Growing into a femme fatale with other cool gals as my inspiration has been a really great experience and i highly recommend finding a totallllllly rad chick in your school or on the inter-web to fangirl to yourself over. and who knows, maybe one day you'll cross paths. Girl crushes are the fucking bomb, and you may even be someone's special long-distance gal. 

(Untitled)

there is no good way to begin an essay like this one. there is no good way to begin anything really, there is just a small (or sometimes, very large) bundle of feelings in someones' gut and they vomit up all of these thoughts and feelings and write about them on their blog or in their diary or on a wall in spray paint somewhere. i did not have a wall, any money for spray paint, or a diary. but i do have a blog. so here it is.
I don't want to feel like everything i do is less than valuable. i don't like feeling that my tiny speck of a life on this earth is trivial and banal and stupid and hollow. i want to make art and take photos and i have all these great ideas in my head and visions and words to say in meter but i don't know how. i want someone to brush my hair and braid it into cornrows even though it's much too short and there would be little pieces sticking out everywhere. i want that person to make art too, and read and eat junk food without feeling bad after and see their breath inside a tent on a fall morning. i miss feeling young. i feel so old and decrepit already and i'm only seventeen. i feel like my soul has aged so much faster than my body; that if i were to peel away my soft curves and full head of hair i'd be frail and riddled with spider veins. where has my youth gone? i think i lost it somewhere between my first diet and the last Nancy Drew novella. wait, no, fuck no, Nancy Drew are novels, they are dignified and right.
 i want to make art and make other people feel things.
i want someone to look at my photographs, and feel the same things i felt when i first saw Gustav Klimt's, The Kiss. that would make me valuable. that would make me happy. that would make my hair grow faster and back ache less when i'm on my period. i want someone to appreciate me. i want to be a virgin again. i want to get drunk and tell someone i love them and start crying in their arms. i want my best friend to call me up sometime, so i don't have to. i don't want to be in love. i want validity. i crave happiness and fulfillment and honesty. i want to live in a city with no money and only a jar of mustard and celery in the fridge. i miss the time where i was more than "what college will you be attending?" and "really... art as a major?". art is invaluable. people are invaluable.
i think artists are the most honest people, they paint and capture reality as they see it. everyone else just walks around and assumes that what they perceive is correct and just and true. i feel like being an artist i have a big responsibility to say something with my art. sometimes art is just... art. sometimes its meaningless and hollow like a lot of people in this world. and thats okay, i think, because if everything were heavy and large and round they'd be hard to swallow and lots of people would choke and die on their own self enlightenment. i think that's very much a reality for a lot of people. i very much believe that i am one of those people.

Medianeras "Buenos Aires in times of virtual love"

Medianeras, (Sidewalls) was a film about the unlikely romance of two neighbors brought together through technology, Where's Waldo books, and mannequins. Directed by Gustavo Taretto, the story of two damaged souls and their lives in Buenos Aires pulls at your heartstrings.
The film opens with scenes from Buenos Aires, narrated in Spanish by Martin, the young web designer in love with technology. Martin talks about the city, his apartment, the hierarchy that the city is built upon and how clearly it can be seen. Martin's only vice in the world is the internet, internet dating, online shopping, porn; he has been consumed by the almighty World Wide Web. Next door, Mariana is a young architect making ends meet by designing store front displays. In between cigarettes, Mariana searches her Where's Waldo book, desperate to solve the only puzzle that has evaded her since she was 14- the city.

Throughout the movie, you see parallels between the two and beg at the screen for them to meet. although it never happens until the end, the do chat online through an anonymous chatting service. Medianeras is kept interesting through not only the plot, but also the monologues, the attention to the city, cartoons, dynamic characters, and stories told by the two. The sweet, satisfying ending ties the film together perfectly with good feelings all around. this was my first Argentinian movie, the first of what i'm sure will be many more.

Blackfish

"A mesmerizing psychological thriller with a killer whale at its centre, Blackfish is the first film since Grizzly Man to show how nature can get revenge on man when pushed to its limits."

Blackfish opened my eyes to the inhumanities and atrocities of something I'd enjoyed my whole life; Sea World. When I was very young, my mother and father took me to Sea World to see Tilikum, the resident orca known for being a bright and happy whale with the cute floppy fin. Seeing him is one of my earliest memories; being blown away by the size and magic of such a whale was an experience that really can't be recreated. It sparked a lot of passion in me, and since then I've been infatuated with the sea, taking on surfing and scuba diving as I grew older. Blackfish raised the veil of magic I had enjoyed, and exposed the ugly truth behind whale entertainment and SeaWorld's concern for animal welfare.The film, directed and produced by Gabriela Cowperthwaite, focused on the life of Tilikum. The film begins with the capturing of baby Tilikum from the shores of Washington state. Taken from his pod as a baby, Tilikum lived his entire life as a 'show whale', first in a local aquarium and then SeaWorld, Florida. Interviews with trainers, managers and admirers of the whale slowly expose Tilikum's fall from grace, as one deadly incident after another become more and more of a problem for SeaWorld and it's image. As Tilikum transforms from a gebtle baby orca to a frustrated bull whale, SeaWorld kept the killings quiet, blaming trainers for the accidents, not the whale. SeaWorld shamelessly defended itself against the accusations the whale shows were unsafe to keep profits high. Blachfish exposed the scandal behind the whale attacks, and SeaWorld's concern for profit over the lives of trainers.The film was thought-provoking and eye opening. For a documentary style film it was longer, but kept interesting with varied topics and interviews. I recommend this to anyone with a passion for animal welfare or a love of the seas.

Tokyo!

 Every weekend, my father and I make a tradition of scouring the local library's "At the Ritz" movie section for a new foreign film. We like to consider ourselves, "connoisseurs of subtitles" and "accent aficionados." In reality, we're just hungry for something more thought-provoking and satisfying than the average bang bang American action film.

Foreign films, as a rule, are pretty hit or miss. They can be too long, to dull, or too complex to follow in a language not your own. However, finding a film, any film really, that moves you or keeps you engaged all the way through is what the search is all about. Tokyo!  was all of those finds; artistic, engaging, thought provoking, and highly symbolic. The entire film was a triptych of three shorts, each about 35 minutes.

  Directed by Michel Gondry, the first story is about a jaded young woman in Japan, without a real job (and therefore, identity in Japanese culture) who finds herself feeling useless next to her up and coming film director boyfriend. The French director has also directed popular films like Boy Meets Girl and Mauvias Sang, as well as many other shorts. This was my favorite out of the three overall, because of the great attention to subtlety and dialogue. despite the language barrier and subtitles, the couples romance is blossoming, however strained under their finances and social status.  In the crammed space of a friends apartment, the main character (Hiroko)  overhears her friend talking about Hiroko's lack of a job and usefulness. Hiroko has been dealing with her internal feeling like a burden for a long time, and it finally manifests in the dramatic ending of the short.
In the second short, a Caucasian man, the Sewer Creature, emerges from underground and terrorizes the city. A look-alike lawyer is the only man known to speak his language, and the city awaits to see the Creature taken to justice. in this short, the unique cinematography and powerful symbolism bring distinction to the piece. the Creature, haggard, with one blind eye and a long red beard, eats only flowers, and paper money.  he lives in Japanese sewers alongside cast-off war time materials and graffiti. When he's finally captured after a rampage, he and the (human) lawyer exchange dialogue in their own language. the content of the conversation is never revealed, leaving the viewer with a sense of mystery.In the final scenes of the Creature's trial and execution, the split screen view of all the people in the courtroom keeps the otherwise drab courtroom scene exciting.
 Finally, we encounter a man who has not stepped outside his own home in ten years. He falls in love with his enigmatic pizza delivery girl, and is faced with a feat of bravery to pursue her; directed by Joon Bong-Ho. In the home of the Hikikomori (our main character, and introvert of ten years)  scenes show the man's house, a delicate combination of sterility ( his organisation and systematic stacking) and intimacy (overgrown plants, vintage furniture and flowered mugs). this unusual love story was personal, endearing, and i certainly fell in love with the Hikikomori.  Bong-Ho is also known for his involvement in other indie films such Mother and The Host.

Tokyo! broke my heart and stitched it back up again. I laughed, cried, and marveled at the beautiful stories and characters.  The ephemeral overtones seamlessly disguised the harsh and sometimes political feelings rooted into the plot lines. I would recommend Tokyo! to anyone with an appreciation for imagination, cinematography, or symbolism.

Suburban-Nightmare, A Manifesto for Youth

Readers, everywhere! I'm starting my very own mini-zine, Suburban-Nightmare, A Manifesto for Youth!

The zine will include essays, poetry, art, mixed tapes among other things, and will be focused on young feminism, coming of age, and teenage love and lust. I'll be printing and distributing from my home town in New Jersey to anyone who is interested. You can follow this blog to stay informed and up to date with all the cool stuff going into this. I'd really appreciate your comments and thoughts about the zine, as i do spend a lot of time making it and compiling the media.

Happy reading,

Sarah.

follow Sarah on Yelp and satisfy your inner stalker.

Good Eats

Illegal Art

Ai Weiwei's art is world-renowned for its powerful message and political potency. Wei, born during 1957 in China, has been arrested and held in solitary confinement for months, even years at a time, due to the political nature of his art and censorship laws in his country. Despite China's relentless efforts, Wei's artwork has breached the borders, and his message has spread worldwide. Wei's vision is one of civil justice, a dream of liberties, safety, and security for the people of China. Working as a writer and curator, he has used social media and other forms of communication to lift the veil of mystery behind China's censorship laws and social concerns. Wei uses symbolism, juxtaposition, and potent sarcasm to create invigorating scenes that leave the viewer with a new take on Chinese policy.

His art has proven Ai Weiwei as one of the great visionaries of the twentieth century. He uses reclaimed materials in combination with modern technique to create a paradoxical piece. After a great Earthquake in Beijing where many young school children perished due to the lack of building codes and poor engineering of the schools, Wei used this tragedy as a ploy to express the danger in Chinese public code. Using the backpacks of the deceased children, Wei built a huge serpent, white and black in color, that extends over 100 feet and winds along the ceiling of his gallery. The serpent is symbolic of the collusive nature of China's public policies; leaving citizens in blatant danger while turning their eyes away from the problem.

Wei also makes a bold statement in his piece, Dropping The Urn. Wei is photographed dropping an ancient, sacred urn into the ground, smashing it to bits. The photo set is then surrounded by urns, age old pottery that has been revamped by the artist and covered in bright glazes, to obscure the traditional designs beneath.. Together, the pieces depict Wei's rebellion against traditionalist society, waiving in a new generation of artists and idealists to advance his country.

Wei is in no way opposed to his roots. In fact, the artist takes great pride in his heritage and connection to China. He does, however, speak out against the government through his creativity and has been punished for doing so. Current;y, the artist resides in Beijing, unable to leave his home and under constant camera supervision. Rumors have it that Wei's piece in the works features the very cameras that keep him chained to his house.
The world is always eager for new material from Ai Weiwei, and the artist has certainly earned his righteous place among some of the most innovative, and influential artists and activists of all time.




As always, comments are greatly appreciated. Information on the artists history/vision was derived from here.

Intimate things

Artist Appreciation- Henry Hargreaves

     Henry Hargreaves' collection No Seconds has been turning heads since it's release. The photographer features the last meals of some of the most horrific men ever to walk down Death Row- including Timothy McVeigh (Oklahoma City bombing 1999), and John Wayne Gracy (serial murderer). Hargreaves' pieces are aesthetically pleasing as any other culinary photography, but also chilling, giving the viewer an intimate view into a criminal's last few moments of life. In Vice.com's interview with the artist, Hargreaves explains his fascination with the final meals.
"I’m really interested in people’s choices with food. It’s one of those things that everyone does several times a day, but you never really see it out of context or think about what it says about someone. I was reading about a campaign to abolish the last meal in Texas, so I went online and researched it. And as I was reading through these records, I felt that I could identify with these people for a brief moment just from what they ordered.'     The hidden meaning behind Hargreaves' choice of subject was a political one. Being a native New Zealander, Hargreaves saw the American justice system (specifically, the death penalty, still legal in many states) as inhumane and contradictory with American values."It’s seen by most of the world as this outdated, barbaric act. And it’s strange that it still exists in a country that spends so much time advertising their democracy and morals to the rest of the world."
Hargreaves, through creative and (and appetizing) means, has stabbed at one of the most pressing and controversial issues in America today- should the Death Penalty be abolished completely? Or is it a reasonable means of justice, an eye for an eye? Let me know what you think in the comments below. 

Quotes were taken from here, a formal interview with the artist.

Nam June Paik

Nam June Paik was a visionary artist out of Korea. He was one of the first artists to transform video into an accessible medium for artists around the world. His influence was global- with hundreds of exhibits from South Korea to Germany to NYC, Nam June Paik was world renowned for his genius.
Paik pushed the limits of art through his creative use of mediums. He included televisions, magnets, demolished pianos, and miles of neon tube lights. Paik also created video loops, long and short, in crazy colors subliminally sending you his messages. Some of his most famous recognizable works were on display in the National Gallery in Washington DC of spring 2013, which I was fortunate enough to see before the pieces were moved to a permanent home (unknown, but most likely in Los Angeles).

If you're a lover of modern art, wall to wall neon, deconstructed televisions or otherworldly exhibits, Nam June Paik is definitely worth the trek to one of his many exhibits. Unfortunately, the artist passed away in 2006, but the art he created years ago is still groundbreaking and modern in today's society.
These are a select few of my favorites from the national Gallery in DC when I went. Enjoy!

More of his art can be found here, on his website.
Links to other reviews of his work are here and here.
Let me know what you think! Comments are always appreciated.

For the love of knowledge

A cool little site that compiles all the articles, editorials and blogs you read. Allows you to follow other readers and learn something new daily. Check it out!

Daily Reads

There's nothing quite as twisted as 1950's food advertisements.

The equally lofty (and fucking awesome) plan to print 3D food.

3D printers, as new as they are to the market, have caused quite an upset in their short lives. The latest plan; not 3D printed guns, nor IPhones, but food. Just a good, home-printed meal for all you foodies out there. Mangia!

see for yourself

The art of self reflection- both literally and figuratively.

For those of you less enticed by the ambiguity in most art, the constant mental strain of asking- "what does this mean?" " WHY is she wearing blue?" "how is that blotch of paint symbolic?"; I've found the blog for you.
Of course, a fellow Tumblrite, art-mirrors-art is just that, a seamless collection of beautiful pieces of hot impressionist, cubist, and Renaissance babes... in mirrors. You're welcome.

art-mirrors-art.tumblr.com

Pierre Bonnard

"But I loved him!" get over it, bitch.

Artist appreciation: Gustav Klimt

Gustav Klimt has remained a favorite of mine for a very long time- I remember the feeling of falling in love with his well know piece "the kiss" my freshman year of high school when it caught my eye in a grammar textbook.These are some of his best works (in my opinion) enjoy.

For the I-artist in you

 As a proud member of the Apple clan, I can finally say that I understand the obsession with constantly switching out old phone cases for new ones. I mean c'mon, who doesn't love a cool case for your handheld buddy? Homemade ones are even better. check 'em out.

Probably the coolest shit on the web

Malformalady.tumblr.com

Outsider Art- Because things are better on the other side, anyways.

Living in Philadelphia, I am lucky enough to live near one of the world's finest art collections. Currently, the Outsider Art exhibit is being held, and harbors some of the most unique (and controversial) pieces I've yet to see in Philly's main gallery. (power point of some cool pieces found here) The artists are a mis-matched bandwagon of convicts, ex-criminals and the mentally ill, each with their own distinct stories and style. These are some of my favorites.

Purvis Young- "Horses"

George Widener- "Blue Monday Reversal"

Lee Godie

James Castle

Movie Stills

Learning to appreciate cinema through a separate screen- a stationary one.

Novice to Blogging

I will be posting everything and anything over the next few months. Think; art, music, prose, pop culture, DIY's, my never ending college search, genetics, and novels. Enjoy.

Sarah