Sunday, February 19, 2012

I got to know you better.

I find myself sitting in my apartment, music playing from my lil iphone, hookah smoke surrounding me accompanied by a slight chilly breeze...and all I can think is how much I miss having a canvas. After having a weekend of friends and partying, reminiscing and laughing; I finally have my apartment to myself. My mind is running with ideas, with thoughts, and the amazing rush of inspiration. If I could paint on the walls, I would.  (roommates wouldnt really appreciate it tho, haha)

Last night, the bf held my hand and then proceeded to tell me how delicate the hands of an artist were. Sure, sweet perhaps. But instead, it established this urge I have to fulfill what the title means to me.  One of the greatest achievement I have accomplaished is for people to see my craft as art, and for my image to reflect one of an artist. Yet, there is so much to be placed on canvas, signatures to be placed at the edge of my work, colors to be mixed, mediums to be experimented with....the list goes on.
I havent nearly reached my peak.

Perhaps this entry in Eight is a reminder of where I stood on this day. And how I madly believe I will never let this passion diminish. This light is mine.



Tuesday, February 14, 2012


"She is our moon. Our tidal pull. She is the rich deep beneath the sea, the buried treasure, the expression in the owl's eye, the perfume in the wild rose. She is what the water says when it moves."

Just a lil excerpt from Patrica McKillip which I loved.
Today is a lil different from the past years.
But its a day like any other in the five months we've been together; a day when we can't wait for nightfall and for the embrace that the moon offers without fail.




Saturday, January 28, 2012

perhaps this is finding a new joie de vivre.

well. its been bittersweet making a decision.

...but for the next few months, ill be working my ass off to attend a program in Paris, France.
i owe this to myself; to go for something, (that although intimidating) will pay off in the end.

such a change, hopefully will lead to a remarkable experience...and somehow everything that im scared of leaving behind will only grow stronger within my heart.

i look forward to a whole new chapter, to experiencing a different part of adulthood, and to fulfilling a part of my eight.



Monday, January 23, 2012


Reading for my AHS 192 seminar, three hours every Monday where everything Dada is analysed...
part of my reading for today:

She was bathed in the brightness of the sun and the miracle that replaces tradition. She is full of inventiveness, whimsy, and caprice. She danced to the "Song of the Flying Fish and Sea Horses," an onomatopoeic lament. It was a dance full of flashes and edges, full of dazzling light and penetrating intensity. The lines of her body broke up, each gesture decomposed into a hundred precise, angular, and sharp movements. The buffoonery of the perspective, the lighting, and the atmosphere is a pretext used by a hypersensitive nervous system for witty and ironic fun. The figures of her dance are at the same time mysterious, grotesque, and ecstatic.
-Hugo Ball's essay "Occultism and Other Fine and Rare Things"

The above is a description of Sophie Taeuber, she was a dancer in Zurich from 1916-1920; but was well-known for the involvement in dada with artist Jean Arp.
Readings like these prove that art history isnt just about the critiquing of a painting on a pristine gallery wall... its about a woman, a shape, an essence, or even an everyday setting. There must be an embracing of beauty, whatever that interpretation might be to a person.



Sunday, January 15, 2012

one day.

idea after idea. its kept on going for the past few days.
yesterday, i finished a sketch that created a strange feeling within me...
dare i say it?
i think its hope.
perhaps its the beginning of plans,
I feel empowered, guess I just wanted to share that sweet emotion.

below, music keeps me moving.
lana del rey is on my playlist.
a beautiful woman and a cathedral...its painting inspiration handed on a platter.



Thursday, January 12, 2012

all paradox and enticing mystery.

thoughts circling round and round in my head as I walk to get my morning coffee:

I) There's a spot right on the bridge over the freeway dedicated to a victim of a hit and run incident. Two broken candle holders stand beneath a mid-size poster presenting the picture of a beautiful girl in her mid 20's; a coy smile on her face. Right above, it reads "gone, but never forgotten". The entire set up unfailingly makes me remember a feeling emerging in my childhood. I feel that ever since I was a little girl, I never thought I would be lucky enough to reach old age. Perhaps everyone has this mentality; a kind of skeptical nature regarding the ability to live close to 90 years on this earth...but at least some people can see parts of it. Having grandchildren, sitting on a rocking chair on the porch, among other cliche things. But Ive never seen it. I always thought that I would die being significantly young...and while that might seem pessimistic, it instead just felt like a reality to adjust to.
weird, i know.
II) I keep wondering about all the things to do for study abroad in the summer, and if everything will actually come together for me. Italy would be beyond amazing. But someone please explain why I'm still thinking about that internship at the Getty here at home...?
III) school. school. school. so many books to get, and so much work to do next week.
IV) ooh, urban outfitters has a sale!

been hoping to find this song. its an absolute favorite now.



Monday, January 2, 2012

excited. stoked. ecstatic.

well, the need to get inked has come back. im sure tattoo shows havent exactly helped.
its been two years since my last tattoo, and im looking to get something bigger now...

the ideas are rolling.