oh hey.
So I just got back from an incredible and excruciating trip to New York, wherein I attended the annual conference for the College Art Association.
It was terrific on so so many levels. I will attempt to elucidate them here:
-The girls. The art history girls. in my department there is a particularly high quantity of fantastic human beings. If you are wondering about who-to-date in Provo, and you are a fine male-type, these women are it. Seriously. They have personalities that range from serious and passionately committed, seeking and open to the world, adventurous and fun to spunky and hilarious. Pure love for all of them.
-The conference. I learned so much and was expanded in a beautiful way. I was nervous some of the time, but overall, I felt the benefits and the goodness of being completely engulfed in your discipline and the like-minded. It was good for me.
-The good news. I recieved some very tantalizing news that has served to assuage some of these concerns. I'll keep it to myself (and a select few of you to whom I've already leaked... you know who you are) for the time being, but it's good. I think it's really good.
-The city. I stayed with dear friend Jendar who lives in a lovely little apartment in Harlem. Her hospitality made the trip so delightful, and because of some other friends living in/visiting the city, I was able to branch out further and get a larger bite of the burroughs than most of my compatriots. Delightful time all-around.
-The art. It might seem obvious (and it should): I love art. Sometimes I think that I actually hate art when I am standing in a room chalked full of Renaissance biblical illustration, but really, in my core, I love it. I fully came to this realization when I stumbled upon the work of long-time-favorite artist Alexander Calder.
So I just got back from an incredible and excruciating trip to New York, wherein I attended the annual conference for the College Art Association.
It was terrific on so so many levels. I will attempt to elucidate them here:
-The girls. The art history girls. in my department there is a particularly high quantity of fantastic human beings. If you are wondering about who-to-date in Provo, and you are a fine male-type, these women are it. Seriously. They have personalities that range from serious and passionately committed, seeking and open to the world, adventurous and fun to spunky and hilarious. Pure love for all of them.
-The conference. I learned so much and was expanded in a beautiful way. I was nervous some of the time, but overall, I felt the benefits and the goodness of being completely engulfed in your discipline and the like-minded. It was good for me.
-The good news. I recieved some very tantalizing news that has served to assuage some of these concerns. I'll keep it to myself (and a select few of you to whom I've already leaked... you know who you are) for the time being, but it's good. I think it's really good.
-The city. I stayed with dear friend Jendar who lives in a lovely little apartment in Harlem. Her hospitality made the trip so delightful, and because of some other friends living in/visiting the city, I was able to branch out further and get a larger bite of the burroughs than most of my compatriots. Delightful time all-around.
-The art. It might seem obvious (and it should): I love art. Sometimes I think that I actually hate art when I am standing in a room chalked full of Renaissance biblical illustration, but really, in my core, I love it. I fully came to this realization when I stumbled upon the work of long-time-favorite artist Alexander Calder.
It was like visiting with an old friend who you haven't seen for far-too-long, and you just can't wait to remember why it was that you fell so hard for them. I stood in that gallery for fifteen minutes at least, just using my own breath to make the composition move. I felt the depths of wonder and love that come from interacting with and knowing a work of art. It was a beautiful experience as those little white dots danced around in the air, just like the work's namesake, a Snow Flurry. Beautiful.
In the same gallery, I interacted a little less legally with one of Duchamp's works:
I pushed that wheel, and set off a tizzy of rage and anxiety from the security guard whose sole duty in life is to protect that from happening. Well. I'm not sorry; that bicycle wheel was put on the stool for the intent of moving. Duchamp put it in his studio so that he could explore what kinetics are, he wanted to see the composition of movement. So did I.
-The people. I made a few new friends in Nueva York that I am happy to report as my own. If you are reading, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for being good.
So that was New York. It was perfect.
In other news, I have a lot to say. I am formulating a lot of thoughts and things that I may or may not say here (I'm not sure if this is the right venue for some things...). Please take everything with a grain of salt, and don't think things are directed at you in future posts which might be (slightly) angsty... I'm not into passive aggressive blogging (or anything, really). Like Beyonce, "I'm not gonna dis you on the internet, 'cuz my mama taught me better than that".
