i know, it's been a while...
I was watching an interview of Michelle Rodriguez (that’s right, the one who was offed on Lost) on tv, and at one point she flashed a large diamond ring and admitted that she had ‘married herself’ when she was in Hawaii. And the idea’s been haunting me ever since. The idea of declaring loyalty to oneself beyond all others, of tying the knot with the person you’ve already spent your whole life with. And sometimes I wonder, if I wasn’t so tied up to Jason, would my world open wide up? Would I learn more, would I be able to stretch my legs? I think it would force me to meet new people, it might allow me to pursue my dreams more fully. It might, allow me to live more fully.
But who can take the chance of leaving behind your true love? While everything with Jason is wonderful, while he makes me really happy, sometimes I wonder … and there’s this part of myself, this part which loves the spiritual, the metaphorical, a certain place of dreaming and uncanny truth which can only be found in art. And while he complements me in many ways, I have this nagging feeling that he will never be able to fulfill that part of myself which I hold most dear. He will never be able to share in it. He will never be able to experience that with me.
Is that too much to ask? I don’t want to lose him, but I also don’t want to feel lonely, in that place. Because I once admitted to myself, that if there were no art I would have no reason to live.
I only live once. In that life, can I really choose, so selfishly, to leave behind those that care about me because I think they can’t quite fit into my world realm? Can I just have that art world to myself, and share everything else with Jason?
How the hell does anybody live their life with so many fucking questions?! Who can answer my questions?!! Is everyone else just walking around, with some sort of goddamn angel telling them what to do? Because sometimes they seem so sure of themselves. I can’t even think of what I am going to do with my life, every day it changes. I often feel like I won’t be able to do it, that I’m not good enough. I wonder if other people pretend to know what their doing, pretend to sound really smart when really inside they also worry like me. I’m sure it’s true, it can’t just be me. I know it’s not just me. But still, I want to know their secret sometimes. Because I can never lie, just ask anyone who knows me.
…
The practicum is going well. I’ve been going in Wednesdays and Thursdays from 9-5, having the good old 1 hour lunch and chatting with coworkers like the best of the bunch. The people around me are all very interesting, working with art and decorating walls with it. I think I’ve decided I don’t want to be a curator though. Just being in the environment for a few weeks has educated me on the position quite well, as well as the situation in Canada for curators. One of my coworkers admitted that as an Independent curator (which I thought must be such a glamorous job) he depends on grants to be able to work in various galleries, and sometimes he might be unemployed for a year and a half.
And I don’t know what it is, but I’m getting some kind of nesting feeling lately, growing up too fast and thinking very practically about my life. I want to make money, to have security. So curation and that unpredictability doesn’t sound too hot. Now you can have security - if you’re well known and a smashing writer and are famous (if)- then you can get snug and cozy in a major institution and you’ll be fine. But apparently many curators burn out, since they have to do so much work. Should I really want to settle down now? I'm just getting started. As a smart friend pointed out, the 20s are some of the scariest years of your life.
So… anyway, the most fun about this job has been the researching. Doing what I love best: surfing the internet, and finding out all of these interesting facts and details about contemporary art on the most razor sharp cutting edge you could be. (every day I fall more and more in love with the internet, sometimes I think I couldn’t live without it) I’ve been in rapture each day, discovering new ideas about ‘vernacular’ or folk art versus ‘high,’ ‘elite art.’ How technology is allowing amateur artists to skyrocket up the food chain, and how globalization is transforming the face of our society. Today, I started my awesome project on a feminist Canadian artist, Sorel Cohen. My job is to present a “defense” of Cohen and her work that we have in the gallery, Medusenhaup (“head of medusa”). So I’m doing a lot of research on the visual references, and much research on the metaphorical possibilities of Medusa’s gaze in the work. I have to answer the question, “why is this work important?” So this project has me enthralled, it’s in fact what I do best. I’ve been looking up Muybridge’s chronophotography since there’s a reference to it in the work, gaping at beautiful sequences of birds in flight and beautiful old photographs, though somewhat on Cohen’s side when I see his portrayals of women.
Here is the image of Medusenhaupt, albeit very much too blurry:
---
Anyway, I’m leaning more and more towards being a professor. At least it sounds way more dependable than curation, and that's shocking. Or even, just being a research assistant on topics I’m interested in. Because hell, that’s pretty much what I’m doing now and it’s great. I can’t believe the difference in spending my day doing this, versus spending my day at Rogers wireless fielding calls from angry people who hate Rogers and explaining to people how to turn their cell phones on.
I’ve burned out of writing energy since midway through the entry I cleaned up my desk and surfed the net a ton and now I’m exhausted. So I’m sorry for not writing in a while, things have been hectic and busy. I’ve also been caught up, mentally. I think I might be starting to write again. I hope that I’m starting to write again. Real, poetry. I’m feeling something starting again in me, something emerging that’s been hiding for a long time. I’m trying to read as much poetry as I can. I miss being close to language, being intimate with words.
But who can take the chance of leaving behind your true love? While everything with Jason is wonderful, while he makes me really happy, sometimes I wonder … and there’s this part of myself, this part which loves the spiritual, the metaphorical, a certain place of dreaming and uncanny truth which can only be found in art. And while he complements me in many ways, I have this nagging feeling that he will never be able to fulfill that part of myself which I hold most dear. He will never be able to share in it. He will never be able to experience that with me.
Is that too much to ask? I don’t want to lose him, but I also don’t want to feel lonely, in that place. Because I once admitted to myself, that if there were no art I would have no reason to live.
I only live once. In that life, can I really choose, so selfishly, to leave behind those that care about me because I think they can’t quite fit into my world realm? Can I just have that art world to myself, and share everything else with Jason?
How the hell does anybody live their life with so many fucking questions?! Who can answer my questions?!! Is everyone else just walking around, with some sort of goddamn angel telling them what to do? Because sometimes they seem so sure of themselves. I can’t even think of what I am going to do with my life, every day it changes. I often feel like I won’t be able to do it, that I’m not good enough. I wonder if other people pretend to know what their doing, pretend to sound really smart when really inside they also worry like me. I’m sure it’s true, it can’t just be me. I know it’s not just me. But still, I want to know their secret sometimes. Because I can never lie, just ask anyone who knows me.
…
The practicum is going well. I’ve been going in Wednesdays and Thursdays from 9-5, having the good old 1 hour lunch and chatting with coworkers like the best of the bunch. The people around me are all very interesting, working with art and decorating walls with it. I think I’ve decided I don’t want to be a curator though. Just being in the environment for a few weeks has educated me on the position quite well, as well as the situation in Canada for curators. One of my coworkers admitted that as an Independent curator (which I thought must be such a glamorous job) he depends on grants to be able to work in various galleries, and sometimes he might be unemployed for a year and a half.
And I don’t know what it is, but I’m getting some kind of nesting feeling lately, growing up too fast and thinking very practically about my life. I want to make money, to have security. So curation and that unpredictability doesn’t sound too hot. Now you can have security - if you’re well known and a smashing writer and are famous (if)- then you can get snug and cozy in a major institution and you’ll be fine. But apparently many curators burn out, since they have to do so much work. Should I really want to settle down now? I'm just getting started. As a smart friend pointed out, the 20s are some of the scariest years of your life.
So… anyway, the most fun about this job has been the researching. Doing what I love best: surfing the internet, and finding out all of these interesting facts and details about contemporary art on the most razor sharp cutting edge you could be. (every day I fall more and more in love with the internet, sometimes I think I couldn’t live without it) I’ve been in rapture each day, discovering new ideas about ‘vernacular’ or folk art versus ‘high,’ ‘elite art.’ How technology is allowing amateur artists to skyrocket up the food chain, and how globalization is transforming the face of our society. Today, I started my awesome project on a feminist Canadian artist, Sorel Cohen. My job is to present a “defense” of Cohen and her work that we have in the gallery, Medusenhaup (“head of medusa”). So I’m doing a lot of research on the visual references, and much research on the metaphorical possibilities of Medusa’s gaze in the work. I have to answer the question, “why is this work important?” So this project has me enthralled, it’s in fact what I do best. I’ve been looking up Muybridge’s chronophotography since there’s a reference to it in the work, gaping at beautiful sequences of birds in flight and beautiful old photographs, though somewhat on Cohen’s side when I see his portrayals of women.
Here is the image of Medusenhaupt, albeit very much too blurry:
---
Anyway, I’m leaning more and more towards being a professor. At least it sounds way more dependable than curation, and that's shocking. Or even, just being a research assistant on topics I’m interested in. Because hell, that’s pretty much what I’m doing now and it’s great. I can’t believe the difference in spending my day doing this, versus spending my day at Rogers wireless fielding calls from angry people who hate Rogers and explaining to people how to turn their cell phones on.
I’ve burned out of writing energy since midway through the entry I cleaned up my desk and surfed the net a ton and now I’m exhausted. So I’m sorry for not writing in a while, things have been hectic and busy. I’ve also been caught up, mentally. I think I might be starting to write again. I hope that I’m starting to write again. Real, poetry. I’m feeling something starting again in me, something emerging that’s been hiding for a long time. I’m trying to read as much poetry as I can. I miss being close to language, being intimate with words.