of dislocation & graceful unravelling

my parents’ garden, 05.13.12 | selenographie

top: rhododendron bush, pear tree branch in foreground.

bottom, left to right: dianthus, dianthus, rhododendron.

Bonus smartypants trivia: the phrase “redd up” is of Scotch-Irish origin and is used in Jane Eyre, a piece of Important Classic Literature. I got so excited when I read it that I called my mom to tell her.

& bonus personal anecdotes:

1. I can’t wait ‘til I have a kid and my I’m-becoming-my-mother transformation is complete. My Pittsburgh accent isn’t as thick as hers because: I read books more often than I spoke as a kid; I got a lot of phrases corrected into submission by overbearing grammar dudes (“you’re forgetting something, SM… your helping verb! loop-de-doo!”); and I was embarrassed about my accent when I moved away from Pittsburgh. Now I’m often homesick and am accidentally-on-purpose cultivating a Southern drawl with Northern snappiness and holding onto my old slang terms while trying to assimilate new ones. HEY Y’ALL WHADDAYA MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT A GUMBAND IS, GEEZ-O-MAN!

2. At work I processed a dictation that was clearly from a Pittsburgher; they said n’at and I was so bummed that we have to transcribe in “proper” English so I had to type out “and that.” Ugh, blasphemy.

(Source: pittsburgh-sports, via champagnelikealady)

weekend misadventures in media consumption

I. Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America by Barbara Ehrenreich (2001).

This had been on my reading list since my first try at college 2002. I finally borrowed the book from my sister, who recently had to read it for Sociology. All this time, I was under the impression that it was some kind of “creative nonfiction” piece about the author experiencing actual hard times and then writing a book (with statistics and facts!) about it. But really the premise was: highly-educated, middle-class white liberal feminist undertakes a social experiment to work minimum wage jobs and live in low-cost housing to see “what it’s really like.” Which, I guess this goes without saying but it totally doesn’t count when you still know you have the safety net of a savings account and your “real” home with your “real” profession and “real” income and health insurance to fall back on.

I can’t write a comprehensive review because I’m pretty sure I was offended at least once per page since, surprise, I’m actually working class and when people ask me “why don’t you just quit,” “why don’t you just unionize,” “why don’t you just save up money for better housing” or “why don’t you just find a better/more fulfilling/less demeaning job” I usually scream, or at least scoff or sneer, and throw up a little inside.

Since this book is old news, some people on GoodReads have of course written much better scathing reviews, like this one, which is concise and snappy. Anyway, this isn’t a book review blog, this is my personal complaint department blog.

I’m only posting about this book because the whole time I was reading it, I kept thinking, oh gosh, it’s like a safari, innit? a safari into the working class, HOW EXCITING FOR MIDDLE-CLASS WHITE BLEEDING-HEART LIBERALS. COME, LET ME SHOW YOU HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES.

Perhaps as a ~free agent within the capitalist marketplace~ I can start my own tourism company.

II. Indecent Proposal (1993, dir: Adrian Lyne)

I’m ashamed to admit I was tricked by this movie; more than halfway through I was still under the mistaken assumption that the lady was the main character and that this was a film about complicated (middle class white) lady choices: to be faithful or have an affair, love vs. money, blah blah boring, but, oh! She said the extramarital sex was good? She’s strugglin’ with moral quandaries? HMM INTRIGUE!

But eventually I noticed that the female lead hardly says anything outside of disembodied narrative voiceovers (nice try Lyne) and that actually the entire movie is just about manfeelings — MANXIETIES, even — about jealousy, possession, insecurity about manhood, snoooooooze.

Lyne snuck in an apparently jabby reference to Susan Faludi by including a quick cut of a “ditzy”-looking secretary reading Backlash, and because of that I found a rather witty interview with Faludi re: Lyne, and maybe I should read her books, too, finally?

Maybe I should read anything that doesn’t suck?

recklesschants:

“Don’t you hate it when you have this zine crush, and they’re dating someone who doesn’t even make zines. Like, long-term dating. It’s so perplexing. You want to appeal to their sense of reason: Think of all the creative things we could be sharing. Writing letters to faraway friends, as we sit across from one another at the coffee shop. Or taking turns flipping over the record, as we create a cut n’ paste mess in the dining room. We could be so right together. Why are you with someone who owns an Xbox?”

— “For K.” (from Zine Crush) oh. ow. none of the people I’ve ever long-term dated have been zinesters, & it has sometimes made me sad. and my current long-term honey doesn’t own an Xbox, but he sure does watch a lot of TV.

Strongly disagree! This excerpt is cute & all, and I get it — it reminds me a lot of bemoaning the punk boys’ penchant for dating “preppy girls” when I was in high school, and how that used to be so sad and confusing to me.

But in my own experience, I completely treasure and require the solitude of writing, whether it’s zines, letters, or otherwise — it’s something that is truly mine, and even within a mostly happy, functional, monogamous commitment, there are still important things I gotta keep for myself, navigating interpersonal boundaries & stuff… Plus I like that my significant-dude doesn’t do zines or blogs because rather than having a potential co-author, I have a round-the-clock editor who can look at my material with somewhat fresh eyes — at least, fresh in the sense of not knowing ‘bout zine and blog “styles” and tropes, so in that sense his input is more valuable to me for the content and writing itself. Even when I co-wrote zines with some of my best ladyfriends, the actual writing we did separately, privately, and then came together to collaborate on furious and brutally honest editing, layout, and collating sessions.

I’ve mostly dated artistic types and I like that while our creative interests sometimes intersect (writing and printmaking, music and photography) and overlap (in varying degrees of skill), we’re not always just doing the same thing… so there’s this “creative activity” part of the relationship where we can go and make some things individually and then discuss/edit together (“wanna see this thing I did?”) and then sometimes collaborate based on what we’re better at (can you draw some pictures for my zine? can you take some photos for my album liner notes? etc.) and I like those times a lot because of the interplay of experience & inexperience. Having a non-writer critique my stuff is important because I’m not just writing for other writers… so it’s important for me to get an idea about whether or not I’m communicating effectively before I go out and make a hundred copies. And with me being a not-so-serious musician (but a great music-appreciator) I can offer enough knowledgeable input on my dude’s recordings to talk about whether it’s good or needs work. Sometimes it’s like the level of trust we have personally and the levels of inexperience we have with each other’s creative specialties, make for a relatively safe zone for non-hurtful but honest feedback.

& as for the TV/xBox thing, it’s funny, ‘cause my dude spends a lot of time watching TV (or youtubes/netflix) & rarely, like, reads books… which was at first shocking to me BUT later I decided I was being an arrogant smartypants jerk. He doesn’t enjoy reading very often (which, okay, is still shocking to me), but he watches things — whether it’s historical documentaries or the weather channel or Judge Judy or failblog — in a very active, thoughtful, criticizing manner, and learns a lot and bring a lot to the conversational table, from this medium that I’m just not that into. & it ends up being way cool and thought-provoking to me that we can have a discussion about seemingly trite shows like Cheaters and To Catch a Predator and end up relating it to ideas about entrapment, voyeurism, privacy, some academic/philosophical essays on morality and lying that I’ve read, relationships, etc.

I mean I’m not personally partial to TV/screen media for reasons (see obviously, Marshall McLuhan, Gerry Mander, & um, Adbusters, CrimethInc., et al) but it is nonetheless a method of transmitting information. I don’t think it always by default makes or requires the viewer/consumer to be dumb and passive — it’s what you do with it. I mean watching The X-Files together during rainy days sometimes was admittedly a fun bonding moment. Shit, watching Married with Children like, helps improve our relationship, to a certain, humorously sarcastic extent.

PS - Jess, btw, I’m not tryna argue with your own comment/sentiment, just felt compelled to Have an Opinion about the quote since it gave me a good excuse to blag about this stuff. I love writing about ~the creative process~ and also media consumption, but I always feel like a big-headed jerk when I get on a soapbox without the excuse of a relevant prompt. :P So thanks for the post!

feedback from American History II (Civil War to Present), 1/27/11 (second attempt).

The most important criticism about writing.

THE SEMICOLON:

“They are more powerful more imposing more pretentious than a comma but they are a comma all the same. They really have within them deeply within them fundamentally within them the comma nature.” — Gertrude Stein

“All they do is show you’ve been to college.” — Kurt Vonnegut

feedback from Intro to Photography, Fall semester 2009 (above)
feedback from American History II (Civil War to Present), 9/16/2010 (below)

shy problems, anxiety problems, angst problems, total disillusionment with academia problems, etc.

feedback from my Drawing II instructor, Spring semester 2009.

“THAT SELF-PORTRAIT WITH THE VODKA BOTTLE WAS ONE OF YOUR BEST PIECES.”

I don’t want to sound all self-effacing & whiny but it’s always kindof a mindfuck to be praised for works I sincerely created out of my own personal Sadness, Pain, & Suffering. Someone call the wahhmbulance…!

notes from Contemporary Issues in Art Education, 11/12/09.

I guess maybe there was a tornado warning that day. I’m real scared of tornadoes because We Don’t Have Those Where I Come From.

notes from Contemporary Issues in Art Education, 11/12/09.

notes from American Government/Intro to Political Science, 1/11/10.

From L to R: a drawing of Eddy, who had started hanging out at my house (with bottle rockets) around that time; a horse with a long face; a drawing of myself in a go-kart because C. had recently told me a story about a tragic go-karting accident he’d witnessed in his teenaged years; an apple because lots of girls ate apples in class; a stick-figure of my professor (“anybody?” a la Ben Stein/Ferris Bueller); burning cardboard boxes in a firepit ‘cause that’s what we did for fun in the wintertime at Spillage House.