30.4.11
So. I'm a news/history/critical theory junkie, overbooked freelancer and recovering trauma survivor, so some weeks can find me fighting a slight funk. I've gotten into the habit of taking the time to write down things that I'm grateful for on a regular basis (yeah, I know, Oprah-style) but I've recently decided to start making lists of the little things that inspire me. So....here's what's inspired me this week.
1. Dancing in my room, in the kitchen, in the shower and on the train to 90's R&B with young female singers. Especially Brandy.
2. Crystallized Ginger. This week I made double chocolate chip cookies with crystallized ginger, and a really dope (vegan!) mango-orange-lime-coconut-ginger sorbet. Wondering if I should start posting recipes....Nobody reads this thing anyway, I don't think.
3. Elizabeth Catlett's prints. There's a great show up at the Bronx Museum right now, showing some of her prints and sculptures, along with works by 20-odd contemporary artists in dialogue with her work.
4. Wang Qingsong's photography at the ICP. There's a lot of good stuff up at the ICP right now; definitely check out the Mexican Suitcase and Jasper, Texas exhibits. Thanks to Bijay Gurung, a former mentee of mine for checking the show out for me and major thanks to Pete Pin, brilliant documentary photographer, for giving us a tour of the school and scoring us guest passes.
5. Tulips in my backyard. My roommates are incredible and are building quite a nice little getaway back there for us.
6. The Fat Girl Fleamarket and incorporating punkrock elements into my wardrobe that reintegrate my 14 year old self. I scored a red denim mini skirt, a black and white halter and yes - acid wash jeans. They all go very well with the new red chunk I put in my hair and the bangles that have come out for spring.
7. Old Signs
8. Dope Female Muralists/Artists I will be collaborating with in the near future; namely Crystal Clarity, Katie Yamasaki and Nicole Schulman.
9. Cheap mexican food and sangria with brilliant, creative educators such as Nadia, Liz and Kamal.
10. "Red Sugar", a book of poems by Jan Beatty - especially her poem "Shooter."
11. Long exploratory walks, especially when you arrive somewhere early and have time to kill. Especially walks that involve large bodies of water, poems by your favorite poets in cement, mosaics, complicated machinery and inspiration to write your own pretty-terrible "poems".
This walk down to the Hudson ended up with me sitting on the pier. Here's the terrible poem I wrote.
I used to stare at the New York skyline the way preteen girls moon at glossy magazine photos of the celebrities they imagine will claim their virginity.
Sitting in Liberty State park, not-so-long-ago, peering through immaculate fence, the green lady turned her back on us. The light, it seemed, was not meant for me or mine. We carried our own torches, more to burn one another than to light our paths.
Sitting here now, from across the river my people seem bizarrely parochial. I am bizarrely parochial.
Pier 83. The Intrepid. Dusty gun metal grey. Tourists clambering on its deck. I think of my father, 30 years ago, covered in sweat and denim, smoking in the bowels of the boiler room of just such a ship. The Cold War and hunger are my parents.
This is my familial collective unconscious coming up again. I have come so far yet bind myself. I stare.
I am manically ambivalent about this video..... but love the song.
1. Dancing in my room, in the kitchen, in the shower and on the train to 90's R&B with young female singers. Especially Brandy.
2. Crystallized Ginger. This week I made double chocolate chip cookies with crystallized ginger, and a really dope (vegan!) mango-orange-lime-coconut-ginger sorbet. Wondering if I should start posting recipes....Nobody reads this thing anyway, I don't think.
3. Elizabeth Catlett's prints. There's a great show up at the Bronx Museum right now, showing some of her prints and sculptures, along with works by 20-odd contemporary artists in dialogue with her work.
4. Wang Qingsong's photography at the ICP. There's a lot of good stuff up at the ICP right now; definitely check out the Mexican Suitcase and Jasper, Texas exhibits. Thanks to Bijay Gurung, a former mentee of mine for checking the show out for me and major thanks to Pete Pin, brilliant documentary photographer, for giving us a tour of the school and scoring us guest passes.
5. Tulips in my backyard. My roommates are incredible and are building quite a nice little getaway back there for us.
6. The Fat Girl Fleamarket and incorporating punkrock elements into my wardrobe that reintegrate my 14 year old self. I scored a red denim mini skirt, a black and white halter and yes - acid wash jeans. They all go very well with the new red chunk I put in my hair and the bangles that have come out for spring.
7. Old Signs
8. Dope Female Muralists/Artists I will be collaborating with in the near future; namely Crystal Clarity, Katie Yamasaki and Nicole Schulman.
Katie Yamasaki's painting |
Nicole Schulman's scratchboard. |
Clarity's mural. |
9. Cheap mexican food and sangria with brilliant, creative educators such as Nadia, Liz and Kamal.
10. "Red Sugar", a book of poems by Jan Beatty - especially her poem "Shooter."
11. Long exploratory walks, especially when you arrive somewhere early and have time to kill. Especially walks that involve large bodies of water, poems by your favorite poets in cement, mosaics, complicated machinery and inspiration to write your own pretty-terrible "poems".
Dope Mosaic at the MLK Labor Center. by Anton Refregier. |
The Intrepid. |
This walk down to the Hudson ended up with me sitting on the pier. Here's the terrible poem I wrote.
I used to stare at the New York skyline the way preteen girls moon at glossy magazine photos of the celebrities they imagine will claim their virginity.
Sitting in Liberty State park, not-so-long-ago, peering through immaculate fence, the green lady turned her back on us. The light, it seemed, was not meant for me or mine. We carried our own torches, more to burn one another than to light our paths.
Sitting here now, from across the river my people seem bizarrely parochial. I am bizarrely parochial.
Pier 83. The Intrepid. Dusty gun metal grey. Tourists clambering on its deck. I think of my father, 30 years ago, covered in sweat and denim, smoking in the bowels of the boiler room of just such a ship. The Cold War and hunger are my parents.
This is my familial collective unconscious coming up again. I have come so far yet bind myself. I stare.
BONUS!
I am manically ambivalent about this video..... but love the song.
LIKE!