So I went to Panama City.
Well, let's rewind. I dropped out of RIngling College in short because I felt a great opportunity to 'sell high'. The first year was an awakening- what a year, oh my god! Soul-mate, perspective drawing, all nighters, bouts of depression and drinking, identity fluxes. Anyway, all of this craziness was about (i.e. around) learning what pictures are made from- it was boot camp, and it helped me chill out a bit, I think. Second year was just tons of painting- lots and lots of painting. Towards the end it digital was spliced in. It's quite an education. Ringling was a blast. I produced so much and was given really awesome opportunities (including a studio in New York for a summer, and a one-night show for a big metal sculpture at the RIngling Museum, and in general great guidance and facilities)- such an awesome school. Whether I know or not how much more there was to learn there is subjective, but I felt like two years was a great run and I found PAFA school to be strong in all of the areas where I questioned myself, and areas of concentration that went into a vague unaddressed space at RIngling. Ever a rolling stone (and as a kind of policy such), I'll move to Philadelphia in late July, to continue studying painting. Soul mate might have been overkill, have to hedge my bets a little here..
Most recent semester: Spring 2017
Most recent semester: Spring 2017
I finished up Ringling, not terribly strong- I'd put in so much groundwork at the beginning of the semester that after 'spring break' it was kind of a matter of coasting, and in knowing I'd been accepted into PAFA, a kind of 'senioritis' crept in. I focused on glass casting, as the rest of my work was largely painting and the 3D served as resting space- some breathing room. Also, glass, I could hardly figure out its purpose. Why would one cast something to be clear? (Our glass was clear). I cast a couple caves- like, blocks with interior caverns carved out- developed a technique to do so- a two part mold, and I cast a graffiti piece, which could be improved upon, and I cast a couple landscapes, and a couple figurative little 'bangers', (I'd call them, because they have a 'kick'). The little bangers are two. One is a nude woman on a rock face landscape, four inches by four inches with a one and a half inch relief. The other is half the size and is a lion with a sphere (maybe a head, maybe the head of Hercules), maybe a Neman Lion. These are chunky and bold and have a nice naiive quality. I'm pleased with them and in them I feel satisfied with glass. The others, hell, I might melt them down into better sculptures at my other school tbd.
So the semester ended and I moved into the back half of my parents house da da da. So my sister is about to pop pregnant in Panama City, so as custom (for our family, this being her second child), we drove north by six hours to see her and be with the family, and the new child etc. I felt a pressure to go, and also a pressure to go to Philadelphia sometime before the third of June when a PAFA senior show would come down- I wanted to see that show. So we're in Panama City (PC) on May 27th, and the baby decides he's ready to come out on the 28th, pop! Hooray, all! So we congratulate, and see the baby, and I feel a kinship with this little baby, being born so near to my birthdate (June 1st), and he having my older sister as a mom, and he having a big sister by two years (just like my sister was older than me by two years) who behaves just like my sister. So, he, will in effect be brought up, I imagine in a similar household, or have many similar experiences perhaps. Anyway, my mom wanted 'to see him' and unswaddled him. I felt crazy at that moment. He's like a little recording device and about two hours into the world, he gets unswaddled. It's whatever. I was reading about this site discovered at Vesuvius under a house of prostitution with many baby bones. Like, a baby grave. It is surmised these were buried alive after unwanted pregnancies went through, and the whores went back to whoring, no shame.
I read something that I believe followed Kant and Nietzsche, about moral reasoning- that it cannot be rightly projected onto another individual or group etc. So, if you see something as immoral, that's kind of your thing, not anyone else's. This has helped me love others more readily, and love myself more readily, turns out, and kind of rhymes with Jerry Saltz's point that criticism is a from of love. I now among other things feel more (intellectually armed at least) inclined to speak my mind, as hey, I'm just an individual with ambiguously reasoned and acquired morals- ready to change and be changed if so they see fit. Whooh! SO, this baby pops out, and I'm suddenly off the hook and eligible to take this trip to Philadelphia, so I buy a ticket and in a day and a half, I'm out of there on a bus. I'm going to end this blog post, to break up the trip from the other trip. It's all a big trippy trip ain't it?
