Week 3

Funny enough, I already answered about my three essential questions in last weeks journal about my big idea, but I'll restate them. Is identity only referencing the thing itself, or the thing in contrast to other things around it (whether we're talking about people, objects, time, plans, ect)? How are the ways that identity can change depending on context? Is it really realistic to expect someone to understand their own identity at any given point in time? If not, how can we accommodate in our work the room to fluctuate our ideas?


I must admit, the commands make me uncomfortable. (I'll scan the images of what happened later.) I am very much a, "I know what I'm doing because I planned everything out and this is how I work," kind of artist. To allow for complete and total chance was stepping out of the box for me.

At first, I pulled the word "postcard." I thought rather literally and cut one of my pieces into postcard sized pieces and put a space for a stamp and mailing address on the back. After that, I had multiply. I took the birds that I cut out of paper on one of the pieces and drew them over and over, then multiplied the house on the same piece. After that, and I can't remember the exact phrase for it, but it was something about hiding certain parts. I took one of the postcards and drew over what I thought were important parts in black sharpie in large boxes.

The exercise was a good idea, I believe. But, it really made me uncomfortable. On top of the fact that I it wasn't falling in my idea of plan plan plan, I had already really enjoyed what I had done, and if I had it my way, would have stopped then.



The quote that I liked the best out of the ones that were given is the one by Ann Hamilton.

"On one level you do this intellectualized research and you think you're really onto something - but it's almost as if you're keeping yourself busy because you're blind to deeper issues. It's like you set up a process that allows these issues to rise to the surface."

This really makes sense to me because of the type of artist that I am. The fact that she mentioned research was interesting to me. Of course, although everyone goes about things in a different way, there are still common threads among us. Most people that I know (admittedly around my age, which is 22) don't seem to do much research behind their projects before they start them. I, on the other hand, refuse to start a project without some kind of background information to go from.





The funny thing is about doing all of that research is that it all seems to fly out the window once the project really starts moving. For example, for A Greeting of Sorts, my series about awkwardness, I spent so much time thinking about how people are awkward, and how to put them in an awkward situation that it took me a few weeks to realize why I was doing it. I wanted to make them feel like me when I'm in any kind of dating situation. In fact, I went so far as to recreate how my first kiss went, down to the colors in the fabric behind them. But, I was so far into what was my technical reasons for doing things that I almost lost what was really happening in front of me. I was making unconscious decisions that had blatant references to things that had happened in my own life.



This happens in almost every project that I do. My current project for my thesis, about peoples' safe places, follows along the same lines as the rest of my work. I just need to make sure that instead of paying so much attention to the science behind things, that I pay attention to what people are really saying to me in the images. And that instead of thinking that I know everything because of my time and research into something, that I allow for some learning myself.

Week 2

Why is the big idea that you chose important? (to you and others?)

The big idea that I chose was identity, and of course it is important. Identity has everything to do with who someone is, why they think the way that they do, and what made them become that way. But, that is if you are only referencing people. There are plenty of other ways that identity can come into play. Identity can be about the past and the future of objects. It can be about how something is different from everything else in a group. It can be about something as simple as preferences, or as complex as personal growth. 

Identity jumped out to me as my big idea because my entire thesis this year is about the safe places for people - what do people wear and where to people go to feel most at home and most safe? This is not the same for every single person alive, in fact, it's not the same for people even within the same family. Personal safety is a very complex thing. People have stated to me that they feel most safe when they are driving their boat,  when they are standing in front of a movie theater, or when they are standing in Belle Isle Conservatory. They could be in a field or in their bedroom. No two answers are alike because no two people are alike. 

Identity could also have something to do with advertising. Don't most brands have one? Having a unique brand is pivotal to making people choose one product over another. Most advertisements have something to do with how a product makes you a better person or will complete your life. 

I made the images above because I was playing with the idea of inanimate objects having an identity, for example, a house. (This is the front of my dad's, not that it's important, ha!) Is a house going to have the same exact functions or "personality" if it is in a field, or in a neighborhood, or on a beach? Does the season that the house is seen play a part? What makes a house a "home"? Is it simply the people inside of it, or does the walls and surrounding area play a part too? These were all questions I was thinking about while I was gluing myself together (and the paper), and honestly, I came no closer to real answers. There has to be a reason why people chose one house over another, when the houses are very similar. Most of the time, it is based on personal preference, but it must be based on a gut feeling, too. And where does the gut feeling come from? 

This is turning into a much bigger set of questions than previously anticipated. But, my statement still stands. Identity is a big idea that can be applied to almost any situation and connected to any kind of artwork.

Week 1

How would you describe yourself as an artist?  Consider what inspires and motivates you.

  

The most obvious answer to this question would be that I'm a photographer, fine art to be more specific.

 

 It sounds a little strange to put it this way, but I consider myself a scientist. Or, maybe a better word would be anthropologist. According to Princeton University, anthropology is defined as "the social science that studies the origins and social relationships of human beings." 

This pertains to me because most of my work is a study in human emotion. The image on the top is from my series Media Circus, a study in how the media affects how people think. The image directly above is from my series A Greeting of Sorts, which was a study in the awkwardness of dating. The last two images have similar themes. Directly below is an image from Hearing Damage, which when paired with the song of the same name by Thom Yorke describes the loss of senses that happens when a relationship ends. The one below is from Love For the Loveless Like Me, which explored the emotions of a complete relationship from the beginning to the very end. I've also done projects on what stress does to the body and how the order that children in a family are born in affects their personality.

 The point in explaining all of this is because sure, I very well could take pictures of flowers, birds, and pretty things, but instead I attack my work with weeks or even months of research and constant study. Only after I have lined out exactly how I want to attack my work do I even pick up the camera at all. Once I finally shoot everything, the process of how I present my work is just as important.

I love the "how" of photography just as much as the "why" - the smell of chemicals in the quiet darkroom, the feeling of plaster in my hands as I mix fresco, and the sounds of the printer as my images appear. When I make a new discovery in process, I relish it and master it as fast as I can.

  I asked a friend last night what kind of artist I am, and the word that she used was ambitious. After a bit of contemplation, I agree with her. It seems like such an overused descriptor, but taking the easy way out is not in my game plan.