ART WOES

I have come to a realization, and I don't know how truthful it is or isn't to my work. I feel that I will a) never be able to obtain a purity that some of my inspirations achieve, and b) that the pursuit of this purity is actually detrimental to my work and my sanity/happiness. My work will never be as pure in style as Robert Wilson, Romeo Castellucci, Ohad Naharin, Carlos Soto, etc etc. I see my peers obtaining some semblance at purity of image, but each time I attempt this, I feel that it is contrived and a false purity. I'm starting to think that my work operates best as an imperfect image. An image with grit, dirt, humor, lies. I think this is why I find myself so drawn to clowning. Clowning creates a very unique world, and I feel it's a world that I inhabit better than the one Robert Wilson creates. I mean, would I really suit this world:

I think my work, and the way my head processes images is more suited for this world:

 

but most likely, I am somewhere in between. I think my aesthetic is a campy-Robert-Wilson-piece. RW does clowns. Like his baby-Marina's in LADOMA:

 

I think the more I go that route, the better my art will get, and the happier and saner I will be.

 

that didn't last long

I DIDN'T EVEN MAKE IT TO MY THIRD POST BEFORE I WAS IN MY WOES

A FRESH START?

So with my last final on Tuesday, this year is over, and where as last year I wasn't super close to any of the graduating seniors, three people I love dearly won't be around come September. I hate change. Mainly because I keep my head down as it whirls around me, and I suddenly look up and I'm in a different place. It's exhilarating to be constantly in new places, but it's mainly tiring and emotionally taxing.

BIG DICK GRETCH

Gretchen Von Koenig is an amazing designer with a slight rasp to her voice and a pep in her step. I want to collab with her in making performance objects which she designs and builds, and I active and bring to life, but she has got way more awesome things happening, and I'm happy for her. Gretchen is the best type of improviser, when I told her (in a scene/in character) that I thought she was just mad cause she had a wide set vagina, she happily responded "COULD BE", while striking awesome power stance. You will be missed.

AN EMOTIONAL TERRORIST

Allie coined the term for this loveable hugaboo who makes innocent bedroom eyes at you during class, and randomly will massage your shoulders. Antonio Johnson is like a devil's food cake. You want to curl up in bed with him, stick your fork in him, take huge bites, and let it melt in your mouth. In a non sexual (but kinda sexual) way. Also, like a devil's food cake, he is made out of decadent chocolate. For a straight man, Antonio flirts with me way too much, which is fine by me. I will miss being able to lean on his shoulder, platonic hugs, and his wise words, and listening to his Jamaican accent slip out sometimes. You will be missed.

I DIDN'T CRY WHILE WRITING THIS, SHUT UP. YOU'RE CRYING.

Mike is the Will to mine & Allie's Grace. He is the organized to our chaos. He is the blazer to our sweatpants. All those cheap things. He is the king of dad jokes and bad puns. He should just wear a shirt that says "too soon?". Mike was one of the first people I met at NJIT. My first semester at school I did not want to be there. I didn't know why I was there. I felt out of place. Mike was one of the people who made me feel welcome. In small ways. I didn't get invited to parties or told gossip ASAP, but just welcoming me into a clique that was already clearly defined was a cool thing to do. Since then, Mike and I have shared many a convo, and drink, about our families and how fucked up they made us. I still can't really wrap my head around the idea he may not be around next year (unless he gets into grad school at NJIT [fingers crossed!!]). It doesn't feel real. I know I'm still gonna see him around, but walking into the theatre office and being the oldest one there is not something I'm quite ready for. Who else am I going to sit in silence with, or share random vines with? I hope he fails everything so he can stick around another year and I don't have to deal with school without him. Honest.
(or he can get into grad school too, whatever)


Next year I will look up and see my landscape has changed, and I hope it's a good thing.