totally hard core

For the last few days a few things have been influencing my decisions and actions: "Is this hardcore?" "Is this punk rock?" "Is this western-Massachusetts?" Not that I validly have any claim to any of these descriptions.

Yesterday I wore a flannel shirt from salvation army which is too big for me but very hardcore. And then on top I wore a red puffy vest, something I picked up in a free pile at the end of my first year and before coming to MA would've never seen myself wearing ever. Then, I drove myself to my favorite neighborhood hardware store, True Value, and picked up some 2 x 4s and wood stain. yep. to build myself a coat rack. When I was looking at the closet hardware, someone asked me, "How late are you open tonight?" and it took me a minute but then I realized, "oh, I don't work here. but I think 5pm." THAT'S how hardcore and authentic I looked yesterday. Also, I think it was the confident swagger. the, yes. I'm going to build something and just do this even though the project is due tomorrow and I have lots of self doubts. Take that, 24-hours-in-a-day.

All this is because it's nearing the end of the semester, and I'm not-so-suddenly realizing that I've spread myself a little thin this semester, and I've done a ton of stuff, but I'm not totally sure what. And so I had a critique today that was three weeks from my last critique, and I wasn't sure what to show! I didn't have anything! why!?!?! It can't have been because of the giant mailbox project I orchestrated, the social justice lunch series I'm trying to organize, the dialogue workshop I attended, the hopscotch board I've been drawing and jumping in the art barn, the Jason Anderson concert I loved, the amazing storefrontART ARThappening event/poetry reading/dance party that I got to be a part of, the letters and birthday cards I've been sending, the free-art-supplies/junk collecting I've been doing, the stupid UMass class I've been attending even though I should have dropped it, or the massive inter-departmental mail assault I've instigated between GE and Merrill house offices.

So I used this as an opportunity to do an "exercise" or a "sketch" -- a one day project: go. I picked from my long list of potential project the TAG SALE. the idea is that I set up an event where people bring clothing that has sentimental value or a story behind it, and then they write that story (in any form they want) on a tag and we sew it into the garment. Then all the garments are hung on the clothes rack (what I previously called a coat rack??) and available for general perusal. A collective archive of memories and stories. Enlivening inanimate clothing by telling the story of the things that have happened to it. Clothing as an object experiencing parts of our real lives.

ANYWAYS. I was really annoyed by my last-minute-ness of it all, but had to just keep giving it up and keep going. I was super crazy last night. I ran around from one commitment to another, and then ran into the woodshop with an hour and a half until Greg, my advisor and shop supervisor, was going to leave for the night. I got my wood and Greg and I built a damn clothes rack. It looked kinda shoddy. It wiggled. We kept having to add extra pieces of wood here and there because of unaccounted for mess-ups. I couldn't put enough force behind some of the screws, and had to have Greg finish some of the joints. In the end it was just bigger than my arm span such that I couldn't carry it myself. I can't describe how funny and comforting it was to have Greg, a tall guy with big boots, carrying this lame coat rack with me in a awkward wobble, cursing at all the first year's projects strewn about in our pathway. With my knees hurting and my pants falling down (because I STILL haven't found any of my belts...), I felt really hardcore.

I stained the wood (partially in an effort to cover up the american flag stamp on the wood -- Greg made fun of me endlessly for that part) which helped a lot. And then I made hangars out of cardboard. It seems ridiculous to make a coat rack, and make hangars, when I could just get regular ones, but in the end, I'm really glad I went to all that work. It's kinda a random and scattered experience I'm trying to set up with the art project, so I think it was important to think about and control all the other aspects of it in order to make it my art piece, or an art piece at all. It makes it more than a random rack of clothing with weird labels on it.

And so my critique in class today was great! I was struck by how grateful I am for all those people, even though I was suspicious of them at the beginning of the year. They were all so excited and interested in the project and wanting to participate or at least see more. It's really so validating to have this idea that I half think is stupid be critiqued and questioned and talked about as if it were real and assuming it's valid, by a group of people I respect. Adrian, a kid who was in my original Tutorial class in my first year and has been in a bunch of art classes since with me, said the "shoddyness" and hand-made ness of it all, even in the places where I didn't do the best job or the most professional seamless construction, were great and added to the personal-ness of the piece. It was inviting, they said, because it was as if a friend invited you to a party, and not just some institution or generic invitation. I like that.

This weekend I was in a dialogue workshop about race. It was really a great experience -- to be in a room and have the space and opportunity to have an honest and open dialogue about uncomfortable issues was really great. I found myself getting uncomfortable, or not sure a lot, but then I could also just think, "ok. I feel like X. That's great. Now I'm going to keep being in this conversation anyway because that's just a thought and this is a tricky issue that is filled up with upsetting and unresolved hooks that could pull me under at any moment." I really appreciate the way everyone in the room was so open to being vulnerable and honest. It felt like a very real dialogue, and something to keep those concerns fresh in my head as I'm working and making collaborative opportunities. How to I be inclusive and conscious in everything I do? How is my race playing a factor into what communities I am working with or what I am making? How can my work look at these differences or engage with them?

Another hardcore thing in my potential horizon: An Imperial TransAntarctic Expedition. Living in a sea-shanty on a frozen lake in Minnesota in January. The midwest! I've never been there! boats! I've never lived in one! Making art while freezing! Never done that really either! Must think about the logical-ness of this all (I know I know, not very punk rock), and update soon.

also, I promise a post of just-photographs to make up for my excessive words soon. Like tomorrow. Or maybe I'll actually do some work tomorrow. but you know, soon.

Tonight we're (me, Elizabeth, Luke, Emily, and James -- modmates) are planning on going dumpster diving. I'm not sure what this really entails, but Luke is an expert, and I trust him on most everything. So hopefully that will round out my hard-core night.

ONE WEEK TILL THANKSGIVING!!! I CAN'T FREAKING WAIT TO SEE MY FAMILY!!!