grunge revisited

GRUNGE REVISITED by carolarola

lately, my inner self has been throwing a fit of existential proportions, and this is what it has to say:
decay! decay! the city is in a constant state of decay, robert smith's caked on runny teary makeup is all on my mind and i am resenting the parts of me that have become proper and minimal. rather than smashing things, i am resorting to materialism and moodboards as an expression of my inner being, which in itself shows how much i've -eyeroll- become part of the system, but nevertheless, it's time to bring back the grunge. and to start, i've stopped keeping track of how often i wash my hair.

the fledgling

if you must know, i've been busy learning to fly. oh, and listening to a sick amount of the cure.

work in progress

be excited. i think i've stumbled upon something g-ood.

on artist statements

me: i thought of a phrase that will describe my work to pretentious art audiences.
bf: oh cool, what is it?
me: [sounding pleased with myself] "hybrid identities and heterotopias".
bf: heterotopias... that sounds homophobic.
me: no, it describes a pocket of alternative space in a world where everything is homogeneous.
bf: but it has the word 'hetero' in it?
me: yes.
bf: still sounds homophobic to me. the art world hates homophobes.
me: it's a phrase from foucault. they'll love it.
bf: foucault - that homo.

nightdriving

me: that rosy glow over there is really pretty.
bf: it's from a penitentiary.

thoughts populating my brain in the past 24 hours

-i am unnaturally troubled by pack rat behavior in others (a house that bleeds with objects, an inability to fly free and leave everything behind)
-survivors of trauma often find highly intense situations to be more soothing than everyday activity, because normalcy is relative
-new order still rocks my socks off

sketches

it took me 6 months of toiling away at my new job to realize that a scanning enabled copier was just 8 feet away from my desk. doh! here are some drawings that i made recently. they were created on a night when i felt sleepless and shaken. i share them with ambivalence because, like all things i make, they are from an unspeakable place inside me, and i'm trying to be less confessional with my work nowadays. if being an artist means laying out every bad thing that ever happened to you for the public to see, well, then i'm not doing it anymore. i'm working from a place of resolve right now, a place equally deep, mysterious, and unspeakable.