Last time I watched Mrs. Doubtfire I thought it was strange how Carrots and that Red-Pink dip was awe-worthy from the Mother.

But I have always wanted that meal, in some sort of way. Even though it'd be pretty bland.. just.. wanted to be near the shine and the meals, and the soft lighting.

Kim's groggy pants.

I am in a complex between "peace to everyone" and "genuinely accepting that you hate a person". i . e . roommate issues. The domestic life of course shouldn't be war, but as well, just because it ain't verbalized, it doesn't mean it ain't true.

And also, I let my niece solo knit this hat-gift, and she dropped 4 stitches, and the entire thing looks like a training job, and it just can't/won't do as a gift. So I'ma fucking start over. Which is fine, it's frustrating, but I like how I won't hand in a piece of shit.

But still.. it's all my fault and responsibility, yet realities that I just don't want to face.

So my night, even thought it's 150 AM is to drink a cup of wine and knit for 2 hours. And then all of Sunday. Fuck going out.

I love how angry I sound, but overall it was an okay day. Good, just I wasn't really.. with it. Whatever.

Le vent

It was actually quite nice today. I woke up at 6:15 local time and made myself breakfast. I found coffee and had some of that. I knitted for a bit, and also taught my mother how to complete a knit stitch and a purl stitch whilst in Tim Hortons. I had a doctor's appointment, turns out I have two different viruses inhibiting me on the inside and outside. I got my teeth cleaned, and it turns out I'm a 2-3/10 in terms of the health of my gums (flossing is needed for furthering my success). I had a 45 minute power nap after having a delicious lunch of sushi and bread and dip and a mini mini salad.

I got dropped off at my old work at 6:50, staying there until 12 or so, talking with Jamie. It is cold and misting outside, accompanied with rain. Being cold, at first I started to shuffle my feet into mid yogging at short intervals, so as to make my commute time shorter. I ended up going for 2 longer running periods, which was quite nice. At first I would start when I saw no cars, and then stop when they were in sight. Then I realized that I do not know these people and it doesn't matter whether they see me or not. I would cough here and there, but it felt nice. I ended up becoming so over heated that by my last running session I took off my hood and scarf, exposing my warm neck to the wind.

I became friends with the wind again. I remember standing in front of my yard at the age of 4 or 5 or so, and it was an overcast sky with an ambience of undistinguishable temperature. I was holding my arms out, palms facing up, and I was speaking to the wind. Certain that it was telepathically let's say, but I knew the wind knew my presence, and I spoke to it to let it know that I felt it. I let it know that I could feel it carry me, and press on me to lean about my stance. My eyes were shut at times, but mostly just looking out to the field in front of me.

As I was running down Southview, the wind gave me the encouragement to run at a longer pace, so I was covering grounds at a quicker pace. As I was turning onto Jeanette, the wind pushed against me so as to have me endure it's force. I knew it had my back, because why else would it challenge me out of friendly encouragement. Nearing up to my street, I picked up my pace to a faster sprint, and I thought it was interesting how at first I would think that I had no energy, but there I was, using far more than I knew I possessed.

I stretched, and came in. I can hear the wind's presence outside my window. It's got so much energy, and it never ceases to exist. I look forward to feeling it again.

: }

Blow Jobs

Whenever I read about blow jobs, or hear of them, I get this feeling of disgust and shame. I haven't wanted to give 'him' that sort of attention, I don't want to let him feel that way. Maybe it's because more males have hurt me than females, so I'm more psychologically comfortable with les demoiselles.

I think I have a lot of anger when it comes to these topics in general, and it's mostly uncomfortable when it comes to me reflecting on these issues. One day I do hope to really expel all that is I feel, and have received. I think it will create a really beautiful project (in the eye of I, the beholder). But the process itself will be so self-reflective, that what I will see that I have made will have internally grounded me. It's a coming to terms with these things.

There are so many things that could be psycho-analyzed in these statements, even in the pauses.

I think there is consciousness in all animals, because they hang out with their own species. So in ways they know what they look like and stuff.

Final Photography Project Reflection

I had presented my photography assignment yesterday, and lemme tell ya, it went on to be fabulous. Before I had presented it I had wondered if it would have come together to look like a series, and it did. I was doubting myself because I didn't know if it was coherent, and if it made sense, but it did, yeah.

I had a passage out from the Prophet in it (I didn't cite it, but I was standing there and I verbally cited it) and then I had arranged, randomly, but not, the 10 photographs of Jake, and then I had placed the 1 photograph of me (that Jake took) in the bottom right corner. So three rows, and 4 columns. I had three vertical-rectangle photographs, and the rest were landscape, the passage was its own rectangle, and then so was the photograph of me. So in order to have their dimensions not distract the overall presentation, I mounted them on 12 inch squared white board. That was a really good idea.

As I was walking up the stairs to the photography department, after I had purchased the mounting board, I was questioning whether it made sense to spend more money on this project. I thought to myself "Well, if my Dad and Mom are helping me with school, and they want me to do my best, should I not do my best?" Mounting the photos brought an overall look of cleanliness and order to the presentation. I knew the effect of the gray cork board underneath them would visually impede their effects, so yeah. I was imagining how I would want them presented if I were to exhibit them, and it would've been the same square foot idea.

The arrangement of photo experiments, and chop ups were all mingled in together. I had the photo pair of Jake and I across from each other on the bottomest left and right corners.

The arrangement of the grid enabled the viewer to focus on each of the photographs, instead of focus on the negative spaces between each mounted image.

It was really nice, because Matt spoke out "I think from what Kim's saying, how she's experimented with the photographs and cut up each portrait makes sense." And then he added, "These are my favourite series that I have seen today." And then 5 or more so people nodded with him in agreement. It was lovely, because Jasmine came to me twice and said "Kim, I just always love your photographs." Marena, and Olivia, and Kate all had given me their verbal praise and blessings, which just is wonderful.

I was extremely paranoid that I wouldn't make it, and worried that the glitches in each photograph would deter any visual value that they might carry. Surprisingly enough, my teacher only critiqued on the addition of the written text, but I failed to inform her that if I was planning on setting the overall attitude of the series. If that written text had no been there, then I wonder if the effect of the photographs would still read as something enjoyable and not.

My teacher, Lorraine, had said that the addition of my image, and the addition of the untouched portrait of Jake had cemented the visual strength of each distorted image, and their context.

I spoke honestly. I had instilled that my project had evolved from my first initial path of thought, and Lorraine was kind enough to read it out loud, "Disintegration, drugs." So I continued on with how I find it interesting how we each have these moments where we tend to destroy certain known or unknown aspects of ourselves. I said that it might've just been me, and that I've seen it happen in most people I know, and that I was quite sure that it must happen to most then. Lorraine was nodding and I was keeping eye contact with people and it was generally good spoken word. I wasn't shaking or fidgeting, and my voice was sturdy.

So anyways, I continued by saying how I had only one subject in mind, Jake. He is a friend, who I nostalgically admire, yet he has these characteristics which I don't admire. But I love him as a whole, yet despise him in a way. I made a connection with another girl's "Relationship between the artist and the muse" project, because Jake is my muse. I draw him, and photograph as easily as it gets. I felt fully supported by everyone in the room, and felt empowered as a photography artist. I felt very secure in my experimentations, and I really do feel proud of these accomplishments. Jasmine had asked me how I managed to create two of the photographs, to whom I happily described the process.

When I was putting them up, Lorraine asked if I needed any help, and I thanked her, but said no, for I was still seeing how to arrange them. When I was taking them down, she came to me and asked, "Kim, are you taking Intro to Photo next year?" And I said that I didn't know, even though I do want to learn and have access to all the school's photography department. It was further pleasant to see her photograph the series as a whole, yet go up to certain individual photographs which she liked, and document each on her digital camera. The class wondered how I managed to distort some of the images, and I said I did some on slants, and they were pleasantly in the know. One girl said, or two, including Marena, "You've shown me that there's more to photography, there's more that I don't know." Which I personally fricken love, because there is more.

I'm really really happy about it, and so proud. I'm forever grateful of the feedback I've received as it encourages me to go on happily to create and experiment more.

In the darkroom this Tuesday I saw some kid painting on the developer on his photographs, and I was like "HAHA!" Not that I know he saw my photographs of Olivia dreaming, or that it was the exact same technique, but I rather enjoyed seeing it. I admired how he was using a paintbrush to apply the developer, I hadn't controlled it like that in my last series.

There was also this other girl who was showed her experimentations to the class, but it was right after me, and she was frightfully defensive to the class. She kept on saying in a harsh tone, "So yeah, my photographs don't really make sense. I just cut up my negatives a bunch and went into experimenting with them. But I don't really care that they don't make sense, but that I had fun. So, yeah, whatever, I just care that I had fun." In my head I was like, "Oh man, 40% of the mark, and I can tell that you're not really that proud of them." I intentionally spoke of her photographs, and there were two that I rather enjoyed.. and yeah. I'm pretty sure I'm saying this so as to exemplify how my experimental series stood out as a whole (even though they weren't perfect) and how I am very very much proud of them. And then also I'm saying it because it reflected my first dream series. I had experimented without perfecting the technique. Whereas for this Jake series, it was a bit more accomplished, and overall sophisticated due to me mounting the images. It read as, "This person takes it a bit more seriously."

I love it, I've learned so much.

Before I thought, "Oh no, I don't think I can take photography, because it costs too much. Even though it's an interest, I don't think it's of me." Pffft, fuck that. I'm taking it.

Beautiful, anyways.

I hope I'm not being excessively proud. It just feels synonymous to when a person might relieve themselves of this pressing poop, and even still, 30 minutes later, they still feel euphoric.

But good night still. : ] Keep on keeping on, heh.

p.s. I won't be digitally uploading any of these images up onto the internet, because I figured I want people to see my stuff in person. I will not expose it so openly because that can be done when I'm dead. For now, it's up to people to people interactions and talk through mouth, to see if I can get up off of the ground.

Much lovess

So I had an appointment today for a tutor to go over and edit my paper for Writing for the Arts. The trouble is, I don't have anything to edit yet, as I'm currently still conjuring it up. So I was initially going to shove it under the rug and neither call nor go, yet when Marena came home she was confused as to my presence. "Yeah, I decided not to go because I don't have a paper for them to edit so it would be pointless," is how I told her. "Did you call them?" "No." "It's common courtesy." Well so then I did, even though the attempt to reach a point of courtesy had been thrown out of the window as I called in saying I wouldn't be needing the appointment any more 6 minutes past it's assigned time. I do experience guilt and shame, but nothing too overwhelming I suspect at the moment. It's reassuring to me to know that right now they know that I won't be coming in, rather than wondering why I am not there in the first place. The guy did the whole guilt thing "What about the student that called in this morning and wanted that appointment, and I said I couldn't give it to them? Are you sure you don't want it?" Yes I am sure, sure as I knew a sense of guilt would be administer by you. Well anyways, water under the boat and I'm not really sinking yet. C'est la vie. I of course feel slightly responsible for occupying the space of another more deserving of a tutor, but really - how down in the dumps shall I get over this petty thing? I am the one who suffers for my own actions, if I had conjured up a draft earlier on in the week, then I would've been able to go. But hey, if I never took up drawing in Kindergarten and instead followed the desire to study in Biology, I probably wouldn't have taken up that other student's space either, or maybe I would've. But I'm making a structure out of nothing concrete, thereby, these thoughts can harbor no guilt.

No see, it was easy to write that, and I believe I got my point across as I would normally do. But when it comes to writing.. it's like it has to be more than what I inadequately see my written skill as. Thanks to the underwhelming approvals of, wait, I shan't blame highschool teachers. There is no blame. Just me, writing this blog, instead of smoking a cigarette and writing this exhibition review. I have opinions, I bought the exhibition's book, and have read lightly into the artist's history. I can see what she's achieving and how the technical skill advances her efforts to communicate fragility in the strong and durable characteristics of metal.

I'll just write a bit of it out right now. It doesn't have to be perfect the first time, are there not multiple layers of images underneath the surface of one my drawings/paintings/books and whatever. So are there in these writings. Cool.

Well Kye-Yeon Son is a jeweler and crafts person, but primarily a metal smith. She has studied in Seoul, Korea (where Whopper's from I think) and furthered her education in the Indiana University, U.S. When it comes to Son's first works, one may easily pick up on the gestural qualities of the line she uses in her vessels. There are zig zag with clear and equal angles that ravel along the rim of a smooth and polished silver bowl, that then transform into an curve as smooth and arched as the rim of the vessel. What I like about Son is what I like about most sculptural artists. Instead of collecting dust atop of my imaginary shelf, is that their creations may be used, so that there is a utilitarian purpose behind their manifestation. Son though, takes it one step further in terms of describing to us what these functions may be. I have seen the works of ceramic sculptures bring their work into the dinning room as serve-ware, but never mention the emotion ties to these ceremonies that make the piece in question valuable. Son's Saki tea set are of traditional Korean culture, and are unique in their clear yet angled gesture, but furthermore describe their embodiment of emotions that also are prominent in the ceremony itself. For Promise is a hollowed out pen with an ink well constructed from fine and smaller-than-your-pinky-nail silver circles that create an empty volume. The technical skill of these pieces is quite refined. The hollowed pen is at first a flat sheet of really thin silver, but is curved in to join itself to create the body of the pen. There is a seam, but there is no visual proof of its existence, or of its procedure. The form she creates with metal with the help of her technical skill of the craft is (I'm getting slower now at producing ideas. I'll perchance go out for a smoke.. )

But the forms that she creates with these tiny metal lines, are visually easy to destroy. Luckily they are stored within acrylic cases, because either wise I would be extremely tempted to break the connection of at least one welded seam. I overheard another person at the show's reaction to one of her pieces. Loss is a hollowed form, it sorta looks like a blobbed figure as there are the visual references to a body slunched over, drooped like it was sad, but with one element that encapsulates the empty feeling of its onlookers. There is a gaping hole in the presumable stomach of the figure, wherein you can see that it's covered with sharp splintering fragments of metal that burn on the inside. The curve of the figure is so dramatic that if there figure were a person, which essentially I guess it is, it is clearly a conscious feeling of loss that they are experiencing. The time at which this piece was made was during (fuck I don't know the exact date, but I read it in a catalog that I could go and see right now, but fuck that, but anyways) the time when she was offered a position to teach at NSCAD. She had already 2 children (daughters I think) so she would have to leave them at home for their Dad to take care of, in Korea? Indiana? She didn't get the job until 1998, but this piece was made in 1996, so maybe it's a full-time/part-time thing. However, what she communicates here in these series of linear and gestural works is the transitional changes that are effective both her life in the art world, and in the traditional 'I'm married, I'm a Mom, I have no time other than being emotionally confined and artistically silenced.' Fucking kids and Husbands, eh. But so anyways, she accepted the position and moved to Halifax, saving up money so that she could go home every two months and visit her kids and hubby. But on that voiced by stander of whom I heard. Their reaction was verbalized through the question "Wow. Oh my god, wow. Does she have kids?" (At this moment in time I had no idea that this woman wasn't 22 or so, and I thought this woman was a tad uninformed.) Pfft, so wrong. Yes, she did have kids, two of them, and not being able to see them was eating away at her on her motherly insides. But alas, she's using her discipline to share this story to whoever is lucky enough to see, and listen, and understand.

Now after this point in time, she became interested in the cultural traditions of the Korean stone, and how the attention to the beach stone is also reflected here on the east coast. We've all picked up a couple of stones and here and there along bodies of water, and held them in our hands and invested so much Gonzo emotion into them, we essentially create a ceremonial tradition in matter of seconds. Son is the bridge here when she connects the two cultures attention to the beach stone by creating wishing vessels. Now a function of a serve-ware needs not to be limited to food, but also the emotional joy and satisfying experience that comes along with enjoying food with company. That's why the good China dishes are cherished. I love Son because she clearly defined the function of these wishing vessels to serve primarily as emotional serve-ware. There is a respect for the tactile quality of beach stones too, as she furthers her skill in manipulating metal and it's surface to emulate that of a stone. Painting with enamel! Woo!

God damnit, maybe it's her education of culture, through experiencing them that makes her works so clearly defined and strong. She's able to signify the sacred importance of 'things' in our life, how having them look aesthetic and delicate is in fact to reflect to their fragile importance in our emotional every day lives. These things serve as tools for our emotions to become expressed.

Which brings me along to another series of her works. Empty Vessels is what she calls them. (Yes, I know. At first I walked in and was like "Vessel. Vessel. Vessel. Whatever, I'm bored. Oh look, it looks like a stone. Oh look, it looks like... a bunch of metal stuck together.") But the story behind this series is the experience of the loss of her Father. Well, he died, he didn't really get.. lost. But anyways.. Whereas her children she could go back and visit every two months or so, it's not like she could jump on the River of Styx and go see her Pops every now and again. So the hollow and emptiness she creates with metal is extremely fragile. The technical care she's place into their bends and curves are quite astounding, because for as small as these pieces of silver are, their souldered bits should've been broken - but Son is extremely patient. Creating these pieces helped her with her grieving process. She manipulates the form of these structures to resemble that of a canoe, or a boat let's say. She said that the boat is a vessel (obviously) but for sending away emotions. Like the vikings would, set their dead on fire on a boat into the sea. So does Son, but the fire is limited to the electro-magnetizing process it takes to shape these empty vessels. (I'm not sure if that's the actual name of the process, but I'll ask this Jewelry girl in my class tomorrow.) So Son put in a lot of her loss, and emptiness into this Empty Vessels series, so much so that the sentiment is quite evident, even in terms of the fragility of their connected parts, to the fragility of human emotion as well. Hell, if/when my parents die, I'll be fucking crying up a storm louder than Hurricane Katrina until the next ice age, hopefully when my heart will then be froze over. For the next while, if I didn't say it earlier, her Dad died in 2002, so from then until 2009 she was working with the form of metal wires, and creating tiny and polished pieces that are about soup-bowl size, to a few that are rose-vase [vay.ze] size.

In that same magazine I read in the Gallery (god damnit I'll have to cite and shit) she had said how she was on a walk with her Mom here in Canada, and her Mom remarked on "You see the Trees here in the winter look dead, but they come back in the spring." God damn fucking wise I say. So Son, with the help of her Mom, started to become observant to the circle of life, death, and re-growth. Innate Gestures picks up on this cycle in nature, and uses it to define the challenge of human emotion to grieve and regroup, or even life, and how it must slow down in order to continue once more. Even though this series is an abstract of the death evident in nature, her ability to convince us that these metals are not copper and enamel, but are actually Branches from trees, covered in believable snow, is another advancement in her technical skill as a metal-smith. Soon she started to experience some regrowth, ol' Sonny gal. She started using colour on her branches, by using enamel but also by the process of heating copper, and polishing off at different stages. Little did I know before that one could change the colour of copper by thermal treatment and a little wrist grease.

After this exploration of death, empty form, and regrowth, Son did a little bit on making some necklaces. This is where she was able to, effectively I say, as I wanted to buy one ($1,500 ... never mind.) carry over these elemental qualities of nature, and to have them gracefully rest on your collarbone. They're very light, so their conscious reality is not a weight on the shoulders, you know. Baggage on Atlas.

Now she went for a year of Sabbatical teaching in Korea, and in 2011 she created this series of brooches titled Untitled. Is this a title? I don't know. Did she have any fun there? I'm guessing not. Was it anything worth experiencing? I don't think so. All of her other works have been so emotionally charged, and full of the significant value of cultural traditions and artifacts, that this series was a bit underwhelming. But what is life but like a body of water. It may rush into rapid currents, or slow down into a still pond, and it may sit there for a while, but it does not mean that the waterfall it approaches does not exist. So anyways, what I'm saying is.. that although I really did enjoy the emotional energy she used to create her past pieces.. I will respect the non-frontal attitude of this series. I didn't even mention what they were of.. Well, at first in the exhibition I couldn't see a thing that described what they were (Hmm, oh hey, importance of artist's statement.) So that initially go me all bummed out, and I saw them as a series that needn't even be there if they weren't even named, or had a description, or weren't even in that magazine that I read. The only description that explained their existence was written by Dr. Sandra Alfoldy, a professor in Craft History at NSCAD. So thank you Sandy D. They are representative of Bojagi in Korea, which are quilts made from irregular shapes of fabric stitched together. In the Gallery book I bought it was "the name for Korean quilts which are composed of delicate colours and simple, uneven textile squares, and thin, light fabric. She struggled to attain the gestural imperfection of the cut cloth squares, something virtually impossible to achieve in metal." But on Wikipedia, is says that it's used in ceremonies as wrapping clothes, or gift wrapping, or table clothes, or the covering for sutras. Hmm, whatever.

Anyways, so even though there's not the screaming emotion of death and loss, and the hopeful attention to growth - there still remains the attention to traditional Korean culture. In religion, the practice of praying/meditation whatever, or the practice of religion does serve as an emotional tool. It's tradition, and dogmatic, sometimes a bit mundane, but its routine gives peace of mind. It'd be odd to think of Son was still grieving over her father's death 9 years after the event.

In her recent series, Form Function, she made ceremonial objects that service as utilitarian, but are aesthetic, but also service as a memory of feelings. I think having these as the last series really brings to light the significance of her first works. One may read of the importance of ceremonial objects, and how they respect the life and loss of a loved one, and how it's important because it's important, but for me, personally, I think because of how well Son has communicated this/her experience, I carry it as my own right now. How the Service for Memory displayed, was right at diaphragm height. I can see myself holding the cup and pouring the wine and lighting the candles. This piece was made in 2002, and the photo in the book shows the candles in the candle holders unlit and totally new. When you see them in the Gallery, they are already lit and used. So it's evident that the utilitarian characteristic of the work is not merely said, but done. I think even seeing this further connects the synapses in my brain saying to me, you know what.. Son has experienced this shit, and it's felt like shit. I mean those first Gestural Figures of Loss and House Bound, and Ring Bound.. I hear that. To be stuck in a house just creatively clogged shut with laundry and whatever.. boring as fuck.

Son's first works straight outta Indiana University are of simple connections and bends and polished pieces. Then she went to curving sheets of metal and enameling them. Then to creating delicate forms through her patience and understanding the tolerance of her metals. Then to further experiment with metal as she discovers the hidden rainbow beneath copper wire, when treated wit a lil heat. Then to making a neurotic amount of tiny little rings from short pieces of metal, flattening them, then soldering them together, then bending it from a 2d form, into a 3d sculptural form. Then to hiding all craftly evidence by just pure refining of her skill. Then to replication of the visual characteristics of nature. Bringing in the use of wood, thereby not being limited to her conventional material of choice. (What Metal-smith should always use metal?) So she is explorative in emotion, form, technique, and material. And then even such with the Function of her last series. I looked up 'utilitarian' on this Mac Dictionary, and it says to be designed to be useful rather than attractive.. well. Son's works are not ugly. I'm not going to wear an ugly hat, over a pretty hat. They're both hats.. but which one will you love more. (Lol.. "Sure I will have 2 kids. I will have an ugly kid, but also a pretty kid.. but I'm not going to put the ugly kid's picture on the Christmas card.) [Bad joke.] So she effectively redefines utilitarian to me. A pretty thing will be cherished, even though it's a thing.

But anways.. My review is some what in there.. time to blow my nose, smoke a cig and.. make a wise! 11:11