perpetually patterned

These days have passed. I've pounded streets, in the same manner as the rest. Eyes down. Left dragging right. Left with right. Repeat. This is a life of perpetual patterns, of the unwavering absence of an atrium beat, of the pretending underneath a nest of sheets, of the fleeting visions of a technicolor reality, wherein your eyes are always illuminated.

These days have passed. Your kaleidoscopic face, it presses. Printed seductive in four-color process. Dyed permanent into the bedtime blanket that I toss aside in the morning, and crawl back underneath by the night that is certain to fall. 

"The mind is like a richly woven tapestry in which the colors are distilled from the experiences of the senses, and the design drawn from the convolutions of the intellect." --Carson McCullers

portfolio daze

A drizzly quick trip to NYC and now I'm back home in a flash. Here's the view from my table at the ADC portfolio review day. Everyone especially appreciated and dare I say swooned over my attempt to save the newspaper or something called The Citizen Cheyenne. JK DCL.

play for breakfast

Woke up bright and early this morning and snuck into school to assemble and hang my senior project show, which now sits quietly in its little nook at MCAD, greeting passers-by. Thanks, mum, for your measuring, leveling, and sewing skills. (More details on the project later).

Tomorrow I'll wake even earlier to embark on a grand adventure with this lovely lady and this sly chap to the streets of New York City for the Art Director's Club portfolio review day, as well as other grand adventures involving big brudder, and some of other crazy folks. Excitement, exhaustion, and exhilaration exudes...

a through zzz

How the days have been spent recently–awake until a bit of sleep, with a mess of hazy thought clouds in between...

Marcel Marceau alphabet book, courtesy of the MCAD library, plus another spread from Keri Smith's How to Be an Explorer of the World: Einstein used thought experiments (questions that can only be solved using the imagination) on a regular basis. Learn more here.

In other fun news, I have a spasm in my piriformis muscle. Thanks, Senior Project!

CMYKday

Had some more fun with the scanner today, playing around with CMYK. 

My back hurts incomprehensibly, and gets x-rayed in the morn. I'll pretend I'm on the bed of a human-sized scanner, my insides over-analyzed by an ambulant ray of light... 

they don't fear much

I have been following the struggle for womens' rights throughout Pakistan and Afghanistan especially close as of late, and the bravery of these young women as they fight for their right to an education has been continuously inspiring. An interesting article in the New York Times today voices the opinions of two Afghani women in response to Obama's recent Afghanistan-Pakistan policy speech, and poses an interesting perspective on America's role as an ally, and global leader in democracy.

"Last November, extremists on motorbikes opposed to education for women sprayed acid on a group of students from the Mirwais School for Girls in Kandahar, Afghanistan. Several young women were severely burned. Yet it did not take more than a few weeks for even the most cruelly disfigured girls to return to school. Like the crowds of women in Kabul this week who protested a new law that restricts their rights, the Mirwais students demonstrate unbending courage and resolve for progress. They don’t fear much — except that the world might abandon them..."

I do not know where the answer lies, but I know that in these hectic times––as the final weeks of my college education loom on the horizon––I must not forget all that I take for granted. Also, take the time to watch this short video about an 11-year-old Pakistani girl's brave defiance against the Taliban. She rules.

mucking around...

Today, in this moment, I wish I was here, perhaps on a picnic wid this fellow.

Or else I wish I could be mucking around in the phantasmagoria, once again... 

"The individual most likely to prevail is the one who believes in possibilities––an optimist, a creative thinker, a person who has a sense of power and control. Imaginative play, even when it involves mucking around in the phantasmagoria, creates such a person."   -Brian Sutton-Smith

squares, scraps, and stripes

The scanner and I had a little fun today with some squares, scraps, and stripes. Simply sublime. 

of a feminine forum

Today a beloved colleague of mine expressed baffled sentiments over a lighthearted forum of femininity created by a dear comrade that seems oft-discussed amongst the ladies these days. I feel a white flag must now be waved in order to defend the existence of this quiet place floating out and about in the blogosphere, and suppress the possibilities of gender bias or war. 

Contrary to popular belief, Waiting for Boys to Call is not an outlet for bitter feminine aggression or male bashing, nor should it exist as a catty exchange of gossip and dirty laundry. Rather, it is cherished by many of us girls as a united, confident sisterhood in which we are free to exchange carefree tokens of advice and absurdities, and a place where we can all, on some level, attempt to understand our roles as women in a patriarchal world. We are a united front of intelligent, multi-talented women who are strong enough to stand on our own, but also not afraid to sit around and giggle over the potential for a simple phone call from a charming gentleman. Life is no fairy tale, but we still like to be treated like as ladies, every once in awhile...

cautiously optimistic

The day was filled with turquoise and red, a sure sign of the rebirth of the dead...We do not breathe in neat little rows. Rather, we gasp in the fresh air at every chance opportunity. And so I remain cautiously optimistic––at least in the interim. 

"For some minutes, before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, she just lay quiet, smiling at the ceiling. "