Projects // Ideas

Inspired by The Journal of Disposable Thoughts, as well as alum who railed on about the importance of having passion projects…Some personal projects and ideas I’ve been toying around with:

1. A video project I’ve been meaning to do since June or July. I’d like to compile the video footage I took of life and strangers in China. Was inspired by WANDER IN VIETNAM, which I found on Vimeo last summer:

2. 100 Strangers Project. Haven’t updated in eons–I still talk to strangers and keep note of their stories, but I never get around to posting them. I’ve also felt averse to photography for the past few months and so that probably has something to do with it. When I have time, though, I’ll update the project…And, ideally, reach 60 strangers by the end of the year.

3. Last spring I thought of painting a series relating to It; this summer I thought about compiling a space where I could throw up everything about It. Like, oh, a digital timeline, the shortest one  you could imagine. Just a chronology of songs and art and quotes and notes-

But I only painted a rose and stopped there. The whole thing seemed, uh, unhealthy. And indulgent. But I guess that’s one excuse you can make for art and shitty feelings. Latter fuels the former….(Reminds me of a piece in Brain Pickings on artist Marina Abramovic’s Turning Trauma Into Power.)

How could I complete it? Well, I could paint Ophelia. And, oh, what else? Nail-biting-brainstorming. Most likely I’ll focus on filling up two more canvases and then just have a 3-piece series on the topic of It, which I’ll have to also give a better name later.

4. This, uh, photography project idea I’m contemplating doing. Won’t divulge details, it’s a little unnerving, and I wouldn’t know how to explain it to people who don’t understand (?) Still. There’s an odd allure to it. And there’s something inside of me that really wants to do this. Guess it amplifies/draws into question the relationship between the photographer, the camera, the subject… the nature of observing and capturing ‘moments’, huh.

5. Something to do with music, something to do with instruments. I could learn a piano duet piece to play with my friend. Usually he watches piano videos to learn songs, and I’ll play them by ear. But I think it’d be fun to learn new songs and to practice sheet-reading, something I haven’t done in months… and I miss the flow of making music. God, you know that moment when consuming music isn’t enough–you just have to produce it, too? Otherwise you might explode? It’s been a while since I’ve felt that towards any one song. But I can’t sit around waiting for musical muses. I’ll find one.

6. Sketch and paint the people in my life. Give people in my life said sketches. Last week I gave VS a painting of The Little Prince; on Friday, I gave my TA a comic-ified version of a poem. All summer I kept wondering: what do I do with my art, what do I do with my art? Well, I could give it to other people (…If they wanted it)

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Capsule Cocoon

This is my sensory capsule (warmwarmwarm in my cocoonish sensory capsule) A pile of the links/things/stuff I’ve consumed/created/engaged in in the past few days, from stories to art to episode analyses; from conversations to unsent letters to voyeuristic works:

Reading: The First Wife, Lit Hub

Listening to: Marsipan on the phone as we laugh and vent and discuss–

Viewing: When Photography Imitates Voyeurism, NYTimes

“Arne Svenson’s photographs…capture people at home through their windows. The neighbors, who were unaware they were being photographed, are somewhat obscured — bending over, back to the window, head turned, behind a curtain.”

Talking: about the odd intimacy between the viewer and a seemingly private space in voyeurism; a podcast on a woman who watched a young couple grow old then frail then sickly and gaunt; the way psychopaths are hollow, the way the best friendships bloom from outta nowhere; did you know horses hit the hay after giving birth?

MT: You know, honestly it makes me sad when you don’t remember the things you’ve drawn for me.

Me: What do you mean? I forget. Oh, I just did it again. Remind me. Are you talking about–

MT: –That rodent project we did in Luzardo’s. I was kind of sad and angry you didn’t remember it. 

Me: You were angry?!

MT: Yeah, I kinda wanted to keep it, too.

Me: I could draw another rodent for you.

MT: Wouldn’t be the same.

Drawing: Two Point Perspectives in my queer politics class; we’re talking about discourse and Heteronormativity (but we’ll end the terms list with Queer)

Watching: Auto Erotic Assimilation, Rick and Morty (this is the analysis)

“…the profoundly bleak ending suggests that Rick really does have a deeper emotional connection to Unity, albeit one that he would refuse to consider long enough to ever be able to properly articulate…

…Taken all together, this is one of Rick And Morty’s most thematically coherent outings, a half-hour expertly devoted to teasing out all the possible ways people’s interactions can turn toxic and destructive. This is a question to which there really is no right answer….”

Writing: Library Letters to a ‘bertus, who’s in training

September 13th 2016 at 9:39 PM – Remember when you showed me No Role Modelz by J.Cole in December 2014? I do. And I’m sitting in an overly air-conditioned basement of a library listening to it and thinking of you and how I’ve been meaning to write this letter so now I am.

(I haven’t sent it yet)

Music

I miss my guitar. And I know this because when I listen to music, I’ll see it splitting, see the melodies and harmonies fracturing into individual segments, watch the notes to see where they go, one step higher, one octave lower. I’m following each instrument like a different train of thought and then feeling them all culminate and dance with each other.

When I’m playing by ear, it’s the same process: I’m closing my eyes and opening my ears and sensing where these notes are going. And then I play and play until it feels right. I could curl up in other’s musicality, content myself with just listening, but I’m like a cat watching a ball of yarn ball of music; eventually I’ll want to tug at it and unravel it, the music. When I listen to music, it is like watching it unravel. And then I want to put it all together again.

Day 17: Early Morning

I rewind in multiples of 3 6 5, count on my fingers when it’s orangey hot outside. I’m blinded at 8, sweaty-drowning at 4, despairing at 2, and counting down to 1 (12, 11, 10–)

Think Lua, Bright Eyes, cramped attics, friendship and sleepovers. How what’s ‘so simple in the moonlight/by the morning never is’. And today when I wake up it feels like hot winter in the middle of December.

Early morning ‘s forgetting when all I can do is remember.

9:54 PM

A man darts out in rainbow swim trunks and grabs his mail. The moon’s a slice of flan in the sky. I slouch and The Weeknd mumble-hums about an after party.

I’ve never listened to Wanderlust in full but every time time the song pops up, I hear: “there’s a song by The Weeknd called Wanderlust.” And then I think back to drawing fingerprints in green sharpie and doodling Leo Tolstoy in the margins and how the seasons had never looked so vibrant.