I sent an exhibition proposal for December or later, but there was an opening in October, so despite not having the work done yet I decided to take it.
The show will be called Inheritance and it addresses the conflicts and ethics of various animal rights issues, such as factory farming and animal testing by the cosmetics industry. It combines drawing, painting, and installation. The original proposal needed to be simplified a bit for the sake of time and money, but the changes actually seem to work better (at least in my mind) than before. They’re a bit more dynamic. I’m really excited and nervous about it.
The local animal rights group might help me with the food at the reception. Fingers crossed. It’d be really great if the reception could be the combined effort of many individuals, especially on the local level. The reception will be entirely vegan, although I’ve heard that some people only go to art shows for cheese. Hm.
The past week and a half has been almost continually about collecting images: faces, bruises, skin irritation, nude females, mastitis, etc. My cats really like to be in the reference photos. Maybe I should just paint my cats. A whole show dedicated to my future as a cat lady.
(By the way, the two “poses” above are not going to be included. I just thought they were good representations of my cats’ individual style for getting in the way. Because I know how much you care about my darling cats.)
Last night I moved like a ninja while someone chased me, I think it was a man. The woman who was supposed to kill me decided not to kill me after all, and we faked my death. But this man discovered that I was still alive and started hunting me again.
I was afraid of the water, as always, but I would climb out of windows and safely maneuver down to the ground. During waking hours, I am not so certain of my balance and strength. It’s tempting, though.
One of these days, I will take pictures of the work in my sketchbook and developing in my paintings. In the meantime, here are some things I have found somehow or other:
Images from Tumblr that are sadly not credited. (Not my doing. They came to me that way.) If you know who I should attribute these images to, please let me know.
I am still really interested in gems, diamonds, stones, and sparkly things. My last batch of work did not curb stomp the little buggers out of me. I just replaced my eyeballs with rubies and my jaw with a gold necklace of emerald and diamonds and pearls and tiger eyes and amethyst. It’s an odd look, I must admit.
I’ve always been interested in prostitutes, so that should be no surprise at all.
Last night I went to see Easy A with Husband and a friend. It’s basically a movie about how Olive (Emma Stone), a girl with a pretty non-existent/good girl reputation became the school slut all because she lied about having sex once, which then escalated into more lies and corsets with red. Since it’s a comedy – and based on the previews – I assumed it would be a very glib, light-hearted representation of School Slut mythology. Although I’d love to see a well made movie about this subject, I completely accepted the fact that this was not that movie. Besides, I have a crush on Emma Stone, especially after finding out her middle name is Jean. She’s not a true redhead, but I can forgive her for that. Some women were just not meant to be blond. (Or, in the case of Lady Gaga and Tori Amos, brunette.)
So, back to the point, this isn’t criticism so much as it is observation and notation.
If this were a documentary and not a Mean Girls-esque movie, Olive would not just be teased and ridiculed by a small group of super Christians. It would not just be one horny guy trying to force himself on her and lewd gestures at one party from a small group of guys who sheepishly stop doing it after a few seconds. It would be worse.
People that she’s never talked to before will write “SLUT” in lipstick or permanent marker across her locker. They’ll ask her if she really blew the whole football team in the locker room after practice, just so they can have the pleasure of laughing at her to her face. They’ll blame her for break-ups. They’ll casually grope her breasts or ass while passing her in the hallway, and if she complains they’ll say she shouldn’t dress like such a whore. They’ll say she wants it. And she’ll never be asked out on a date because “she’s the kind of girl you have fun with, not the kind you date or take home to mom”.
Maybe that was all years ago and things have changed, but I would bet an orgy with a basketball team that it still goes on everyday in schools all over the country. Not just high schools, either. Fourth, fifth, sixth grades… things can start getting ugly really quickly.
I won’t get into what actually happened in the movie too much because it’s new and there are probably many people who haven’t seen it, or even heard of it yet. Despite some really dramatic moments acknowledging the consequences of (sex-related) lies, the movie maintained a sense of humor. I can always appreciate that.
The only thing that bothered me was that the movie made a big deal about Olive lying and that it was her fault and her responsibility to clear everything up, and yet there was little to no accountability for the people who lied and spread malicious rumors about her being a “dirty skank”. Now, in my opinion those people don’t matter anyway. There will always be those kind of people. Haters, you might say. And a lot of decent kids behave that way just because they get caught up in what’s going on. You can create (weak) connections with other people by talking shit about a common enemy. If you’ve got some fresh gossip, people will crowd around you and listen closely to every word. It doesn’t even matter if it’s true.
Still. How about a little acknowledgement of responsibility from the rumor mill? How about, “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you when you tried to tell me you didn’t sleep with that guy,” or, “I’m sorry I told everyone that you blew three guys at a party”? Sure, she blurred the boundaries of responsibility a whole lot with her clothing, her attitude, and her lies. But roles are not something created by one person.
At least she ended her ‘This is how it really happened’ live webcast with something to the effect of how it’s no one’s business who she has sex with or how often.