i apologize...
for asking you to give in
to the indelible energy
emanating from you and me
shocking us into silence
with every encounter of
close proximity
when you were not
entirely available
for seducing your mind
presenting possibilities
of a tangible forbidden
hidden from the norm
under my tongue
where secrets begin to form
betraying the lies
that lie within
i apologize...
for giving myself so freely
tempting your senses
with the option of
"why not?"
when "why would?"
was the correct question
that you neglected
to bring with you to my doorstep
for actually
when actuality might have
surpassed our reality
of worlds colliding
sparking fireworks
burning in minute increments
springing from our origins
erasing the option of other
i apologize...
for letting go
floating on unspoken promise
reading between wishes
when you were drowning
in socially-manifested guilt
blind to the clouds above
hints falling on deaf senses
while fates laugh at human folly
for sinking into your submission
instead of saving myself
from my web of fables
spun in spite of past experience
forgetting that too often
passion's flames falter
when wells run dry
i apologize...
for adding you to my baggage
to my collection of broken dreams
paper wings pinned to my story board
serving as the latest landmark
another lesson in cold distance
applied to afflicted emotions
that continue to die a little more
killing kindness in its wake
-The Poet
Secret
Maroon 5
Songs About Jane
Friday, June 27, 2008
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Red, Yellow, Green, Orange, Blue Blue Blue (La Trabajadora)
Coming into this whole reunion job thing I was looking forward to nothing but a bunch of Harvard alumni spoiled brats and a paycheck at the end of the week. Get in, do the kid thing, get out, get paid. There was no way I could have known that this was going to be one of the most defining experiences of my college career.
The kids were amazing in so many ways. Of course there were a couple of cases of kids that made me want to tear my ears off and never-ever-ever-ever want to reproduce. But the kids that I worked with in blue group were kind of this little microcosm of Harvard students before they start worrying about their gpa's, extracurriculars, test scores, parental expectations, and their "futures". It was as if going to Harvard was just something you do, a given, and there wasn't any doubt that they were going to be here within the next 8 years.
Day One: Met the kids and found out that between Ying Ying and I, we had a group of 8 smart jock children from everywhere who have unlimited amounts of energy. They were also way too cool to do anything like play "Where the Big Wind Blows" with a bunch of eccentric kids in khakis and overzealous novice counselors who think that talking louder, slower, and in a high-pitched voice will make twelve year-olds like them. They were happy playing soccer in the hallway on the 2nd floor of Sever and I was happy making sure they didn't kill each other.
Day Two: Went to Canobie Lake, one of the dinkiest amusement parks in America. Of course for every ride there would be 2-4 kids out of eleven that "didn't do" those type of rides so the counselors had to switch off every ride. I talked more about football, hockey, rugby, boxing, basketball, and American football more in those times than I have all semester with the Argentinian kid who hosts the Crocs at his house every year (wtf?!). (He also told me that I knew he was coming to reunions this year and I stayed just for him...it was fate). Then of course all of the kids found their way to the candy store the last 30 minutes of the trip and collectively bought about 20 lbs of sugar to eat on the way back to the bus...which they finished on the way back to the bus. I even got to bond with one kid over severe allergies. He has a massive allergy to eggs and as he started licking a HUGE jawbreaker, that he wasn't convinced was just a massive ball of sugar, he turned to me and said "If I die, I'm sorry" and unfortunately I completely understood where he was coming from. After 3 two minute checks of death symptoms he then proceeded to wake me up six times from six seats away on the ride back to show me every time the jawbreaker did something...like change color... as jawbreakers tend to do. After they got to see an omnimax movie about the Grand Canyon that I unfortunately didn't get to see because we were an hour late and there wasn't enough room for the counselors (yay 1.5 hours of uninterrupted thesis reading!).
Day Three: Also known as DAY FROM HELL. Whale watching (sounded boring)...open candy bar(bad idea)...terrible weather... big waves (they were fun at first but after the first 15 min, not the best look)... lots of barf, everywhere. And of course, instead of turning the boat around immediately we went an hour out onto the Atlantic and therefore had to travel an hour back. I can now honestly say I've seen people turn green when they're sick. But of course the best part of this trip was one of the kids, not my kid mind you, having a huge anxiety attack. He couldn't stop shaking and ripped apart two plastic cups with his bare hands, at the same time. That was the scariest experience I've ever had working with kids and I hope it never happens again. For dinner, Harvard catering decided to put out cans of whipped cream and fruit for dessert. One of my kids had 4 cokes and two bowls of whipped cream for dinner... and there was nothing I could do about it. BUT then we went to see an exclusive Boston Pops concert that was especially done for Harvard alumni which made up for everything and made me realize (once again) the power of the Harvard name.
Day Four: Field day. A completely unstructured bad version of a carnival that lasted from 10:00am til 4pm. I spent most of my time talking to the other blue group counselor about the differences between the Asian and Black communities in America. Then it was dinner and party time where the counselors had far too much fun and the kids looked at us like we were crazy. Highlights: realizing that the Titanic song came out when these kids were 2 or younger, trying to make my dancing style G-rated instead of NC-17 (yay bellydancing dvd!), seeing the saddest attempt at the Cupid Shuffle I've ever witnessed in life, my little Louisiana boy establishing himself as the cool kid because he listens to "rap music", and (best one of the night by far) the dj playing "I Kissed a Girl" and all the kids suddenly having the urge to go outside.
Working with these kids made me think a lot about what it's going to mean to be a Harvard alumni and what kind of existence I could potentially have. These kids were educated, spoiled, and worldly at the age of 12 but they were also regular kids with regular problems questioning things like where they fit in, how cool they came off to everyone else, and how much they wanted their parents to be involved with their lives. I can honestly say it may have been one of the most interesting weeks of my life... and maybe I'll see one or two of them at my 10 year reunion and they can babysit my rugrats (which I promised them would happen). BUT (and this statement is the most important of all) I must reaffirm my vow...Whatever happens, I WILL NOT BE A TEACHER, I WILL NOT BE A TEACHER, I WILL NOT BE A TEACHER. :)
- La Trabajadora
Green With Envy Blues
Professor Ludwig Von Drake
Disney's Wonderful World of Color
The kids were amazing in so many ways. Of course there were a couple of cases of kids that made me want to tear my ears off and never-ever-ever-ever want to reproduce. But the kids that I worked with in blue group were kind of this little microcosm of Harvard students before they start worrying about their gpa's, extracurriculars, test scores, parental expectations, and their "futures". It was as if going to Harvard was just something you do, a given, and there wasn't any doubt that they were going to be here within the next 8 years.
Day One: Met the kids and found out that between Ying Ying and I, we had a group of 8 smart jock children from everywhere who have unlimited amounts of energy. They were also way too cool to do anything like play "Where the Big Wind Blows" with a bunch of eccentric kids in khakis and overzealous novice counselors who think that talking louder, slower, and in a high-pitched voice will make twelve year-olds like them. They were happy playing soccer in the hallway on the 2nd floor of Sever and I was happy making sure they didn't kill each other.
Day Two: Went to Canobie Lake, one of the dinkiest amusement parks in America. Of course for every ride there would be 2-4 kids out of eleven that "didn't do" those type of rides so the counselors had to switch off every ride. I talked more about football
Day Three: Also known as DAY FROM HELL. Whale watching (sounded boring)...open candy bar(bad idea)...terrible weather... big waves (they were fun at first but after the first 15 min, not the best look)... lots of barf, everywhere. And of course, instead of turning the boat around immediately we went an hour out onto the Atlantic and therefore had to travel an hour back. I can now honestly say I've seen people turn green when they're sick. But of course the best part of this trip was one of the kids, not my kid mind you, having a huge anxiety attack. He couldn't stop shaking and ripped apart two plastic cups with his bare hands, at the same time. That was the scariest experience I've ever had working with kids and I hope it never happens again. For dinner, Harvard catering decided to put out cans of whipped cream and fruit for dessert. One of my kids had 4 cokes and two bowls of whipped cream for dinner... and there was nothing I could do about it. BUT then we went to see an exclusive Boston Pops concert that was especially done for Harvard alumni which made up for everything and made me realize (once again) the power of the Harvard name.
Day Four: Field day. A completely unstructured bad version of a carnival that lasted from 10:00am til 4pm. I spent most of my time talking to the other blue group counselor about the differences between the Asian and Black communities in America. Then it was dinner and party time where the counselors had far too much fun and the kids looked at us like we were crazy. Highlights: realizing that the Titanic song came out when these kids were 2 or younger, trying to make my dancing style G-rated instead of NC-17 (yay bellydancing dvd!), seeing the saddest attempt at the Cupid Shuffle I've ever witnessed in life, my little Louisiana boy establishing himself as the cool kid because he listens to "rap music", and (best one of the night by far) the dj playing "I Kissed a Girl" and all the kids suddenly having the urge to go outside.
Working with these kids made me think a lot about what it's going to mean to be a Harvard alumni and what kind of existence I could potentially have. These kids were educated, spoiled, and worldly at the age of 12 but they were also regular kids with regular problems questioning things like where they fit in, how cool they came off to everyone else, and how much they wanted their parents to be involved with their lives. I can honestly say it may have been one of the most interesting weeks of my life... and maybe I'll see one or two of them at my 10 year reunion and they can babysit my rugrats (which I promised them would happen). BUT (and this statement is the most important of all) I must reaffirm my vow...Whatever happens, I WILL NOT BE A TEACHER, I WILL NOT BE A TEACHER, I WILL NOT BE A TEACHER. :)
- La Trabajadora
Green With Envy Blues
Professor Ludwig Von Drake
Disney's Wonderful World of Color
Sunday, June 1, 2008
El restaurante (The Poet)
Cuando llegaste,
Leiste un menú que dijó:
“Esto es lo que es,
No lo permitimos sustituciones ni devoluciones.”
Si hubiera sabido que no pudiste leer,
No te habría pedido sentarse.
Yo di mis piensas para beber,
Entraron la garganta
Y regresaron al mundo
Con su nombre dentro de cada palabra.
Si hubiera sabido que las destrozarías,
Habría guardado tu ignorancia.
Yo di mi fidelidad como tapas.
Comiste todo sin discreción.
Y cuando terminaste,
Pediste más que de lo podría dar.
Si hubiera sabido que no pudiste darme lo mismo,
Habría limitado las raciones.
Yo di las manos para el primer plato,
Y tocaste con curiosidad.
Pero cuando eran dentro de las tuyas,
Tu miedo te puso enfermo.
Si hubiera sabido que no pudiste entenderme
Nunca habría probado mi suerte.
Yo di mi cuerpo para el segundo plato,
Pero me dijiste que tenías alergias.
Y no pudiste comerla carne
Bastante rara, bastante nueva, bastante oscura.
Si hubiera sabido que solamente comías el pan blanco
Le habría dado a los lobos lo que estaba afuera.
Serví el corazón para postre,
Pero no lo quisiste.
Me dijiste que estabas a dieta,
Que no tenías espacio para amor.
Si hubiera sabido que eras una pérdida de tiempo,
Nunca habría abierto la puerta.
-The Poet
Tus Desprecios/Cobarde
Selena
Amor Prohibido
Leiste un menú que dijó:
“Esto es lo que es,
No lo permitimos sustituciones ni devoluciones.”
Si hubiera sabido que no pudiste leer,
No te habría pedido sentarse.
Yo di mis piensas para beber,
Entraron la garganta
Y regresaron al mundo
Con su nombre dentro de cada palabra.
Si hubiera sabido que las destrozarías,
Habría guardado tu ignorancia.
Yo di mi fidelidad como tapas.
Comiste todo sin discreción.
Y cuando terminaste,
Pediste más que de lo podría dar.
Si hubiera sabido que no pudiste darme lo mismo,
Habría limitado las raciones.
Yo di las manos para el primer plato,
Y tocaste con curiosidad.
Pero cuando eran dentro de las tuyas,
Tu miedo te puso enfermo.
Si hubiera sabido que no pudiste entenderme
Nunca habría probado mi suerte.
Yo di mi cuerpo para el segundo plato,
Pero me dijiste que tenías alergias.
Y no pudiste comerla carne
Bastante rara, bastante nueva, bastante oscura.
Si hubiera sabido que solamente comías el pan blanco
Le habría dado a los lobos lo que estaba afuera.
Serví el corazón para postre,
Pero no lo quisiste.
Me dijiste que estabas a dieta,
Que no tenías espacio para amor.
Si hubiera sabido que eras una pérdida de tiempo,
Nunca habría abierto la puerta.
-The Poet
Tus Desprecios/Cobarde
Selena
Amor Prohibido
Chasing Tyler (The Artist)
Tyler: teaching assistant/performance artist/lunatic.
Let me start this by saying I have never met Tyler. I've heard about him. I've read about him. I've seen him. But I have never actually met Tyler.
When I first saw Tyler he was dressed in this 19th century get-up complete with waistcoat, silver-rimmed glasses and huge bushy beard (which I later learned is laboriously pasted on every morning). Soon after, Nancy (my wonderfully boisterous, half Jewish half Polish (?), Detroit born, ex-polka player drawing teacher...yea I'll be writing something on her soon) explains to the class, "Tyler is Gustave Courbet this year! Well it certainly is a change from the whole zebra thing, THANK GOD! Did I tell you about the time that Tyler and I went to a restaurant..." As Nancy finished her story about zebras, artists and bad waitresses, I turned to one of my classmates to find out exactly what Nancy meant by "this year" and "zebra". Though she didn't have much more information than I, my questions were answered two weeks later in an article on Tyler that I found in one of our campus newspapers.
Tyler is in the sixth year of his performance art project. Every year his wardrobe takes on a different theme that he somehow faithfully follows for 365 days. It first started as a project in his last year of college when he decided to become the Pink Panther for a year. Tyler dyed his whole wardrobe pink and whatever he couldn't dye was thrown out...and so it went.
Year One: Pink Panther- all pink all the time.
Year Two: Clothes bought by other people- Tyler gave about $545 to 4 different faculty members at his school and asked them to buy his wardrobe for the year (one person actually bought all women's clothes).
Year Three: Catholic School Uniform- Tyler went to Catholic school for a big portion of his life and his uniform was red, blue, or white polo and khakis (he started this one on the fourth of July)
Year Four: Clothing only bought at thrift stores- Self-explanatory...personally I think this one is a complete cop-out.
Year Five: Tyler the Zebra- black and white striped...everything and a floppy black mohawk.
Year Six: Gustave Courbet- 19th century painter that Tyler admires. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gustave_Courbet (I had to look him up)
So why do I care? Because Tyler is an artist and he's crazy. I'm an artist (or I'd like to be one soon) and I'm crazy and I happen to love a challenge. I've been thinking about Tyler and his project for a while and I've been wondering how hard it would be to wear the same thing everyday for an extended period of time. I've already been known for my duo-chrome style palette so how hard would it be to drop it down to just one? I took my time, talked it over with some people, and made the decision to follow in Tyler's footsteps this summer. I will be wearing black everyday for the next two months. So far it's been pretty difficult seeing that my monetary situation does not match my ambition but hopefully that'll be taken care over the next couple of weeks. Besides, now I have a legitimate excuse for blowing all of my paycheck on clothes... it's just one of the sacrifices I have to make for my artwork ;) .
Until Next Time,
-The Artist
Back to Black
Amy Winehouse
Back to Black
Let me start this by saying I have never met Tyler. I've heard about him. I've read about him. I've seen him. But I have never actually met Tyler.
When I first saw Tyler he was dressed in this 19th century get-up complete with waistcoat, silver-rimmed glasses and huge bushy beard (which I later learned is laboriously pasted on every morning). Soon after, Nancy (my wonderfully boisterous, half Jewish half Polish (?), Detroit born, ex-polka player drawing teacher...yea I'll be writing something on her soon) explains to the class, "Tyler is Gustave Courbet this year! Well it certainly is a change from the whole zebra thing, THANK GOD! Did I tell you about the time that Tyler and I went to a restaurant..." As Nancy finished her story about zebras, artists and bad waitresses, I turned to one of my classmates to find out exactly what Nancy meant by "this year" and "zebra". Though she didn't have much more information than I, my questions were answered two weeks later in an article on Tyler that I found in one of our campus newspapers.
Tyler is in the sixth year of his performance art project. Every year his wardrobe takes on a different theme that he somehow faithfully follows for 365 days. It first started as a project in his last year of college when he decided to become the Pink Panther for a year. Tyler dyed his whole wardrobe pink and whatever he couldn't dye was thrown out...and so it went.
Year One: Pink Panther- all pink all the time.
Year Two: Clothes bought by other people- Tyler gave about $545 to 4 different faculty members at his school and asked them to buy his wardrobe for the year (one person actually bought all women's clothes).
Year Three: Catholic School Uniform- Tyler went to Catholic school for a big portion of his life and his uniform was red, blue, or white polo and khakis (he started this one on the fourth of July)
Year Four: Clothing only bought at thrift stores- Self-explanatory...personally I think this one is a complete cop-out.
Year Five: Tyler the Zebra- black and white striped...everything and a floppy black mohawk.
Year Six: Gustave Courbet- 19th century painter that Tyler admires. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gustave_Courbet (I had to look him up)
So why do I care? Because Tyler is an artist and he's crazy. I'm an artist (or I'd like to be one soon) and I'm crazy and I happen to love a challenge. I've been thinking about Tyler and his project for a while and I've been wondering how hard it would be to wear the same thing everyday for an extended period of time. I've already been known for my duo-chrome style palette so how hard would it be to drop it down to just one? I took my time, talked it over with some people, and made the decision to follow in Tyler's footsteps this summer. I will be wearing black everyday for the next two months. So far it's been pretty difficult seeing that my monetary situation does not match my ambition but hopefully that'll be taken care over the next couple of weeks. Besides, now I have a legitimate excuse for blowing all of my paycheck on clothes... it's just one of the sacrifices I have to make for my artwork ;) .
Until Next Time,
-The Artist
Back to Black
Amy Winehouse
Back to Black
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