Back from the Dead
So I decieded that since my life is slowly returning to interesting, I'd revive this journal in efforts to chronicle my summer and perhaps improve my narritive style. So....lets begin with exciting things that have happened to me recently.
Art and Writing:
This last school year my poetry has finally matured to a level that I can consider professional and unique. One of my favorite poems of my own, "POEM" was selected for the SLC Review and wound up on the first page of the collection which featured work by students from poetry, to theater, to fiction, to visual art. I've been reluctant to post poems for fear of plageurism, but that's pretty conceited and I'll start posting some. Since "POEM" has already been published I'll lay it down here.
POEM
1
A big mistake a poet might make
is trying to look cool.
We’ve seen all the pictures
Jack Kerouac, nude
head adorned
with the garb of a Navajo chieftain,
crucified backwards
on a flaming motorcycle, facing south….
2
If you want to be
a cool poet,
write your poems in sunglasses,
in a basement, on an abacus.
Drink Jim
Beam straight, from the faucet.
That's actually an older poem from freshman year. Here's another, more recent one, "COMING", still under revision.
COMING
I wake up in a placenta sweat. Bat lights
walking across my open eyes, the long dirt
road growing from the wood house. A unicorn ram
walking across a lake. Papa rowing through
the veils of darkness. A quick word of warning
from a grease monkey with an eye patch.
A single horn of lightning bright, the tooth
the sirens a smaller door within a door.
Scout shouts into the wet future. Putting on the
last pair of make ups, piling into the family station wagon.
The fan fair of a Coming June. The checker board
is playing itself. The pieces slide on their own some.
This was definately an excellent school year for poetry. I took class with Thomas Sayers Ellis twice, who was the most supportive and intelligent poetry teacher I've ever had. What a great mentor. The second semester class pretty much went to hell but Thomas was always really supportive of me and I'm so glad I met him. I've come to expect less from Sarah Lawrence.
Speaking of expecting less I had the most miserable time of my life wasting away in Gary Burnley's visual fundamentals class. Twice I've made terrible mistakes in choosing an art class. In highschool I never took visual art because I was trying to focus on compiling an impressive resume for college...WHAT A JOKE! So last year I figured "why not take a sculpture class?" because at least it'd be less work than a seminar. Being friends with Kate and Hannah who both went to art school and are very talented I definately felt like a "hobby-est". It didn't help that my class was full of IDIOTS and taught by the MORONIC Tishan Tsu, who is a TERRIBLE ARTIST, but I managed to feel pretty good about my final project. One thing I didn't like abotu Tishan's class was how restrictive his teaching method was. I felt that my best work happened when I strayed from his guidelines. Unfortunately I was actually criticized by Tishan who just doesn't fucking get it.
Gary didn't get it either and basically I starved. The guy is such a HACK! I think it's pretty obvious that Gary Burnley is a charleton by the incrediable absence of his work on google. You should just hear the way the guy refers to the 80's like the old days. It's painful to hear him talk to the class about famous NY artists like he was eating dinner flanked by Warhol and Basquiat at Max's Kansas City. Gary talks about these guys like they were all chilling down in SOHO. I'll tell ya I was REALLY OFFENDED when Gary started talking shit about Chuck Close. No pun intended, but Chuck Close is certainly the closest Gary's ever been to a great artist. It upsets me that CHUCK CLOSE was Gary's teacher, but i get taught by GARY. If you're not yet convinced that gary sucks, know that he makes post-expressionist collage and refers to them as "Decoys". I guess i won't go on, this is boring even me.
Anyway I offer gary NO CREDIT for any of the art i made this year. And I feel really validated because i was TOTES SELECTED for the Sarah Lawrence Summer Show in the Barbera Walters Gallery. Yah, it doesn't really mean much, i don't even remember who the curator was, but every year the school hires some curator to curate a show in the BAWA gallery, which yes, was named for that barbara walters. Hannah and Kate were both selected too coincidentally. A few other people from my class were also selected which i think sucks because it reflects well on gary. Moira's work got in which was inevitable because her work is fucking awesome. Shannon got in which i think is bizare because i am really unimpressed with her.
well i've completely lost interest by now and i have shit to do tonight so i'll post pictures of my shit later.
Art and Writing:
This last school year my poetry has finally matured to a level that I can consider professional and unique. One of my favorite poems of my own, "POEM" was selected for the SLC Review and wound up on the first page of the collection which featured work by students from poetry, to theater, to fiction, to visual art. I've been reluctant to post poems for fear of plageurism, but that's pretty conceited and I'll start posting some. Since "POEM" has already been published I'll lay it down here.
POEM
1
A big mistake a poet might make
is trying to look cool.
We’ve seen all the pictures
Jack Kerouac, nude
head adorned
with the garb of a Navajo chieftain,
crucified backwards
on a flaming motorcycle, facing south….
2
If you want to be
a cool poet,
write your poems in sunglasses,
in a basement, on an abacus.
Drink Jim
Beam straight, from the faucet.
That's actually an older poem from freshman year. Here's another, more recent one, "COMING", still under revision.
COMING
I wake up in a placenta sweat. Bat lights
walking across my open eyes, the long dirt
road growing from the wood house. A unicorn ram
walking across a lake. Papa rowing through
the veils of darkness. A quick word of warning
from a grease monkey with an eye patch.
A single horn of lightning bright, the tooth
the sirens a smaller door within a door.
Scout shouts into the wet future. Putting on the
last pair of make ups, piling into the family station wagon.
The fan fair of a Coming June. The checker board
is playing itself. The pieces slide on their own some.
This was definately an excellent school year for poetry. I took class with Thomas Sayers Ellis twice, who was the most supportive and intelligent poetry teacher I've ever had. What a great mentor. The second semester class pretty much went to hell but Thomas was always really supportive of me and I'm so glad I met him. I've come to expect less from Sarah Lawrence.
Speaking of expecting less I had the most miserable time of my life wasting away in Gary Burnley's visual fundamentals class. Twice I've made terrible mistakes in choosing an art class. In highschool I never took visual art because I was trying to focus on compiling an impressive resume for college...WHAT A JOKE! So last year I figured "why not take a sculpture class?" because at least it'd be less work than a seminar. Being friends with Kate and Hannah who both went to art school and are very talented I definately felt like a "hobby-est". It didn't help that my class was full of IDIOTS and taught by the MORONIC Tishan Tsu, who is a TERRIBLE ARTIST, but I managed to feel pretty good about my final project. One thing I didn't like abotu Tishan's class was how restrictive his teaching method was. I felt that my best work happened when I strayed from his guidelines. Unfortunately I was actually criticized by Tishan who just doesn't fucking get it.
Gary didn't get it either and basically I starved. The guy is such a HACK! I think it's pretty obvious that Gary Burnley is a charleton by the incrediable absence of his work on google. You should just hear the way the guy refers to the 80's like the old days. It's painful to hear him talk to the class about famous NY artists like he was eating dinner flanked by Warhol and Basquiat at Max's Kansas City. Gary talks about these guys like they were all chilling down in SOHO. I'll tell ya I was REALLY OFFENDED when Gary started talking shit about Chuck Close. No pun intended, but Chuck Close is certainly the closest Gary's ever been to a great artist. It upsets me that CHUCK CLOSE was Gary's teacher, but i get taught by GARY. If you're not yet convinced that gary sucks, know that he makes post-expressionist collage and refers to them as "Decoys". I guess i won't go on, this is boring even me.
Anyway I offer gary NO CREDIT for any of the art i made this year. And I feel really validated because i was TOTES SELECTED for the Sarah Lawrence Summer Show in the Barbera Walters Gallery. Yah, it doesn't really mean much, i don't even remember who the curator was, but every year the school hires some curator to curate a show in the BAWA gallery, which yes, was named for that barbara walters. Hannah and Kate were both selected too coincidentally. A few other people from my class were also selected which i think sucks because it reflects well on gary. Moira's work got in which was inevitable because her work is fucking awesome. Shannon got in which i think is bizare because i am really unimpressed with her.
well i've completely lost interest by now and i have shit to do tonight so i'll post pictures of my shit later.