Mic’a is meeting me at the junk yard today! I’m so glad I won’t be alone. I think picking out materials will be way more fun & productive with a friend from class.
Also, I just wasted an hour of my life looking through old photos again. I never realize I’m hyper-focusing on something until at least 30 minutes goes by.
I just had lunch with my Mom. I hadn’t seen her in about three weeks, & having moved to my Dad’s I was anticipating an angry earful from her. She wasn’t angry & I knew that really well from the beginning because she said it maybe 100 times or so, but she was really worried & disappointed.
She thinks I have a drug problem again, said it’s selfish when I don’t keep up on my medications (which it sort of is, because I become a useless android for about a month) & suggested my getting a skill like “computers” instead of finishing school. She said I could “be one of those people that are called for computer stuff, like when Dan (my stepfather) has trouble with his laptop at the law firm, they just call someone”.
I don’t know if I would have rather her been mad than suggest I get a career helping the Dan Korb’s of the world with their tech problems. I don’t even like computers & I have no idea how they work. Really though, I’m relieved she wasn’t mad or dismissive because that’s what I had been expecting & not looking forward to since she & I made plans. My relation to my family & friends is almost weird now.
Instead of having “post-grad problems” I’m more stuck in a hyper-extension of my confused & weary teenage years where you’re allowed to change your mind & make big mistakes & be poor, only I haven’t been a teenager in a few years or so. When you’re 23 & being compared to you at 18, it means you’re well on your way to becoming one of those estranged, fuck-up relatives everyone talks about before they show up at family parties & feels bizarre around because you can’t be defined by any personal success, you don’t call everyone enough & they all assume you’re living a huge life of arrested development & regret.
Obviously, that’s me being self-effacing; there’s no timeline for life events people have to keep up with, no one way to define happiness or success, & anyone can do whatever they want & enjoy it or not. I just don’t have anymore excuses to not make myself happy & the trend I’ve set for myself is getting tired.
The first time I saw my Grandpa this summer he said it looked like I gained weight
then called my Mom to tell her about it. I hope he meant it in a Great Depression-y sort of way.
Also, I was at school yesterday for 9+ hours & when I got home I felt like I must have been sitting on my brain all day instead of my ass. Also, the A/C in my sculpture room made my feet go numb. I should go to the doctor. And the dentist. And the eye doctor.
I want to watch “Dune” tonight. I think I’m going to throw up my breakfast which is a drag.
New tattoo idea: SUX TO SUCK.
I’m going back to school tomorrow for the first time in over a year
& I’m afraid I might be a moron now
so I’m less excited than I should be.
I really need a pleasant working experience in the arts again to boost my morale. I’m already feeling jaded. I’ve met too many art kids in NYC that are just miserable. They’re either A: Lazy, deluded elitists who use their trust fund money & connections as a crutch B: Horribly pretentious, alienating, pseudo-intellectuals who use a thousand key words or names to talk themselves in circles or C: Both.
Art is totally political.
This all makes me sound like a big, soiled douche, but it’s so draining to constantly meet your peers & realize they’re just heinous.
I feel like I’m still holding my kind-of-warm-tray of cheesesteak & beans, looking for a place to sit in a lunch room full of kids who’ve found a table half a class period ago.
(Reading that again, it makes half as much sense as it did initially).
Lately, I’ve been toying with the idea of doing myself a solid
& becoming a nurse or some other big-hearted professional so I know I’d have a steady, justifiable job that isn’t self-absorbed or have the potential to be so disgustingly bogus & pretentious.
I’m my own bitter, ugly cesspool of underdog defeatist attitudes!
I swear to you this blog is my miserable half. I might as well start signing off as Charlie Brown.
Why aren’t my transcripts from Marymount here yet!?!!?!?!?!
I just want to know what grade I’m in…
Also, I got a C+ in 2D Design. Fuck my life in its ugly face.
Tonight I met a nice man named Carlos who gave me a banana & we talked about welding. He’s a construction worker but only because his architecture career is slowing down. We plastered together in the shop at school.
Does that count as a date?
I decided against doing more work tonight because, despite having more to do than I can comprehend, I have time to get this week’s fill done between tomorrow & friday.
My posts have been such a drag lately, I’m sorry to all you religious subscribers who must be consistently bored now-a-days. I swear after the 15th I’ll have a personality & a sense of humor again. I’m so looking forward to it.
I took the best shower. If only my eyes didn’t burn a bleach-y sort of burn & my nose wasn’t coated on the inside with black spray paint, I’d feel porcelain.
This weekend was a disgusting marathon of eat & sleep- & the sickest part is I totally pre-meditated the whole thing & only half regret it. I was over-due. I think I gained five pounds, though. NOT THAT I CARE OR ANYTHING BECAUSE I DON’T.
I’m just perpetually drawing blanks lately. Such a bust.
There was something I meant to jot down last night while I was falling asleep & I didn’t. Now I forget what it was.
my final project in 2D relies heavily on photography which is terrifying. I hope this goes well.
Telling a narrative in 6 to 12 frames. Mine will be less rhetorical. I hope I’m not biting off more than I can chew. Never enough time this semester.
there’s something about your eyes when they burn at night that I really like but only when I know I can close them & go to sleep.
otherwise I hate it.
I was too much a sleepy over fed baby sloth today & too little a human but I guess that’s what happens when you never sleep. You turn into a too-hungry useless infant eventually.
tomorrow I have to be a person again, though. I have to be a person until at least May 15th.
Hi Michaela- thanks for the email.
I always have a lot of things to talk to each student individually, but I always never find class time to do so. I wanted to tell you that the way you ask questions and talk about art during class critiques had been very poignant and insightful both to me and to the class. Although I do not doubt that you will do fantastically well in world of fine art as an artist, I also see how you will fare very well in contemporary theory and criticism. I am thinking of you as an art historian, curator, or art critic in your future caree. I have been impressed by your diverse knowledge and what seems to be a genuine interest in contemporary art.
I attached the Powerpoint file you wanted. Ask me if you want to know some more contemporary artists who work both visually and conceptually similar to any artists you are attracted to in this presentation.
Also, below I have a link to an article that I was going to give you a week ago, but you were absent on that day. I ended up giving the printed copy of the article to someone else in the class. It is an article written by Clement Greenberg, one of the most vocal art critic championing modernism and who defined the art of abstract expressionism during the 50s and 60s. Why am I recommending this to you? It is because this article attempts to divide low art and high art, define what ‘kitsch’ is, and make an argument upon it. I have to say- Greenberg is an authoritarian writer of powerful clarity and force, which I hope you can get an inspiration of what art criticism can be, whether or not you agree to him. Talk to me about this after you read the entire article, and I can lend you a his book, “Art and Culture.”
Feel free to ask me any questions. I think you have a great future ahead of you, but you just have to deliver it with defining, definite execution.
Ji Yong Kim