MISSING!

ATTENTION!

I am missing my self respect.

I lost it somewhere on the way to San Mateo.

I am now in desperate need of new clothes and korean food to temporarily patch the void.

Books: an alternative to getting things done.

Over finals weekend and throughout finals week, I naturally made it a point to ignore the quickly-approaching deadlines and monstrous final projects looming in the back of my mind. Since I have no T.V. the next best alternatives were sleep or reading--both of which I indulged in quite gratuitously. I finished:

1) Augusten Burrough's latest book Magical Thinking

I want Augusten Burroughs to be my main gay. Having read Dry and Running With Scissors, Magical Thinking doesn't disappoint--I love his painfully honest prose and his ability to reflect upon traumatic and emotionally trying events with clarity and humor....and then there was that time he got back at his free-loading housekeeper by paying his court-ordered fine of a thousand dollars...in pennies. and the other time he sought vengeance upon telemarketers by asking one of them to send him a picture of his dick. hah. oh Augusten.
He's quite adorable. To top it off, he's got a penchant for revenge, he's unabashedly narcissistic, and the KING of passive-aggression (and he has two french bulldogs!!)--he's pretty much me if I were a homosexual white man. Actually, no--I give myself too much credit...I aspire to achieve his mastery of passive-aggression. In the words of Wayne, "I am not worthy."



2) Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections:
Where to begin with Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections. I loved it--I couldn't put it down--his beautifully written and excruciatingly detailed account of an American family in decline was so hard to look away from--for lack of a better idiom--like a car crash in slow motion. It is quite an ambitious novel--using a narrow focus (in this case, the Lambert family) to cast larger meditations on themes such as mediocrity, the American dream, the disintegration of the nuclear family, generational gaps, scholarly fads (particularly critical theory....aaaaah), clinical depression, self-medication in all its forms, the ethics of anti-depressants, late capitalism, suburbia, sexual frustration, retirement, assisted living, life insurance, suicide, social politics...the list goes on. The Corrections is a timely novel for the cultural age we live in. I was particularly intrigued by Franzen's character Chip, an academic who concentrates in literary theory. His character becomes disillusioned by the seeming irrelevance of theory in contemporary culture and the obsolescence of the humanities in general. I realized then that my feelings of inadequacy with my very "impractical" major stems from self-denial and my fear of my work and all that I am passionate about will amount to nothing of consequence. but then again, as I believe this book suggests, or at least brings to the table for discussion, the same can be said about life and purpose--that we are a part of a something larger. What I like about this book (and simultaneously frustrates me) is that Franzen avoids coming to any conclusions about the issues he's raised---although I think he makes some judgments--he tactfully avoids any pitfalls of preaching or airs of being "above" the profound confusion at the heart of contemporary American culture--the product of centuries of "progress." I have come to some conclusions, however--I don't want kids. I want to die when I am no longer completely sentient or have progressed so far along in a terminal illness that I am in constant pain or can not control my body. Does this make me pro-Kevorkian?

YOHJI YAMAMOTO, I WORSHIP YOU

Wowowoowowowoowowowoowowowowoowowowowowowoowowowowowoowowowowow

can someone please introduce me to this man???

Funny Games

I was so excited for Michael Haneke's remake (of his 1998 film of the same title) of "Funny Games" this time set in America instead of Deutschland. I did not see the original Funny Games, but I did see Haneke's Cache from 2006 which was one of the best films i've seen that critiques surveillance and elevates it to the level of moral tragedy. I love German movies/directors. Even if it is a "romantic" movie, there is are elements of either cold intellectual distance, pragmatism, or deconstruction of the relationship between viewer and film (or all four) in the best movies. Cache was superb and i'm thinking of purchasing the DVD so I can watch it again. However, I have been hesitant to shell out the money: one, it is expensive because it is a foreign film that was on limited release in the states; two, I don't know if I want to invest in a movie that I will probably not feel like watching over and over (it's quite heavy), and three, I already spent a crap load of money this quarter.
However, Funny Games opened in America to mixed reviews and scores a mediocre 64% fresh on Rotten Tomatoes. Not too surprised, I guess--because for one, it is a remake and an American version at that. Something is lost when you separate the original from the remake by ten years (and in that ten years movies such as Saw, Hostel, The Descent etc. have exhausted--and numbed our sensitivity to, and novelty of--the sadistic, shock-horror genre--effectively lowering the spectacle of violence to mere economics. And keep in mind that the original movie was intended for a German audience, whose cinematic tradition and visual vocabulary are quite different from those stateside) and release it to an American audience that has a tradition of popular interest in voyeuristic, shock-horror films. And Tim Roth, Tim Roth--pretty much gets owned in this movie. Tim Roth is Tim Roth because he has an edge--and I suppose his role in this movie renders him a butter knife. Perhaps they could have cast someone like...Jude Law or Eric Bana or Gerard Butler or something. I think, however, Naomi Watts is probably a good choice. Seeing her turn in Mullholland Dr. makes me think she would be effective in this role--she does the tortured, modern day hitchcock lady gone wrong quite well.
Well. I still want to see it. and the original. I probably won't like it since I think that pretty much only Tarantino can tackle gratuitous, spectacular violence in film with finesse. And even then. I think that his more recent attempts are a bit strained. Funny Games would probably be more innovative and interesting to me if I saw it ten years ago. But whatever. We'll see if I can handle it--perhaps i'll watch the German version first.

Lieblings mode.

dystopian, highly structured, a bit loligoth, medieval, ironic, deconstructive looks draw me in. and then there are the always chic, always sophisticated, high craftsmanship mainstays like Yves Saint Laurent.

1. Comme des Garcons: Rei Kawakubo and Junya Watanabe

The volume, structure, and tulle thing everyone is crazy about---Watanabe, a protege of Rei Kawakubo, definitely nailed this look in his big debut back in 2001.

stunning. If I acquired a dress like that, I would either display it somewhere, or most likely, find an excuse to wear it somewhere. or just wear it for no reason other than that I really like it. :-)

Rei Kawakubo. not a really good example of her work. Google images didn't have a lot of great images of stuff that I like.

Comme des Garcons. Anyone who dresses their models with bunny ears so that they look like the David Lynch bunnies is an inspiration to me!

2) Yohji Yamamoto: Victorian meets Orwell? and florals because it's spring?

and look at her hair.

3) Vivienne Westwood. The Tudors meet punk rock.

and her shoes are always insanely amazing.

4) Betsey Johnson. Say what you want about Betsey Johnson, I love her crazy, out of control, borderline slutty L.A. style. This may be blasphemous for some of you--but to me she's a bit of an American Vivienne Westwood. Not so much punk as she is pin-up/pulp girl. and we have a shared obsession with HOT PINK!

A look at the lady herself.

OMG LOVE!!!!!!! those ridiculous glasses top off the look.

5) BJORK. Say what you want again. the lady is an icon to me.

and we both admire Yoshinobu Araki

6) M.I.A. such a fun lady.

those are definitely the beloved AA vegas leggings.

M.I.A. for Marc Jacobs

Borderline drag. but i still love it. haha

Other notes: Things that influence my work. and if I ever became a designer I would think of these things.

Japanese transplants: Cibo Matto, Deerhoof.

Artists: Yoshitomo Nara, Takashi Murakami, Masami Teraoka, Kara Walker, Barbara Kruger, Yasumasa Morimura, Nobuyoshi Araki, Aya Takano, Chinatsu Ban (pretty much everyone in Kai Kai Kiki). Egon Schiele, Alice Neel
Cinema: Japanese Yakuza movies from 60's, Samurai movies, Tarantino, Japanese horror.
Music: Enka, Cibo Matto, Deerhoof, Polysics.
I want to start reading Haruki Murakami's stuff--starting with Kafka on the shore.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer has YELLOW FEVER!

From the Arts section of today's NY Times:



http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/05/books/05buffy.html?_r=1&ref=arts&oref=slogin

bahahhahhahahaha. what can I say, Japanese ladies are good in bed.

I love popular culture!

All kinds of fucked up.

1) ALADDIN: Does anyone find watching Disney movies uncomfortable? Don't get me wrong--I grew up with these movies and absolutely adored them. I'm pretty sure I was a princess every year for Halloween and I convinced my younger sister that her name was actually Jasmine. My favorite one changed from time to time--my current favorite is Snow White--because i'm in awe of the amazing amount of skill and care that went into hand painting each scene. And because I just love that vain old wicked witch. We would definitely get along. For a long time I really liked Beauty and the Beast.

omg. We could so hang out.

But. Something about the bold-faced artifice, rigid gender roles, tongue-less kissing, shameless stereotyping, pseudo-feminist moments, and exagerrated caricatures just make me want to stop watching. oh and the cheesy script. I know, I know, these are family movies made to cater to viewers with the attention span of a pigeon. but still. I can definitely appreciate these as products of the cultural age we live in.
and I hate to further ruin a "good thing," but "A WHOLE NEW WORLD" sounds to me like a song about sex. The allusions to orgasm are just too hard for me to ignore. No, Aladdin, I would NOT like to go soaring tumbling free-wheeling on your magic carpet ride. As much as i'm sure you can take me wonder by wonder, over sideways and under. I'm pretty sure female orgasms only exist in a "Disney" land of make-believe either way!
another thing--I have to go back and watch some other Disney stuff but Aladdin acts just like a regular guy. Saying anything to get in that girl's pants. and COME ON, Jasmine--how could you NOT tell that Jafar was hyponotizing your ineffectual father slash sultan. and yet you go on asking Aladdin if he thought you were stupid? Girl, maybe you should stop complaining about how shitty life is having everything served to you on a silver platter and open a fucking book.

okay. i'll stop hating on Disney (for now)--its not fair, I know--Disney is an easy target. haha

2) Nobuyoshi Araki: No brainer why I find this man immensely intriguing. (on the surface?) this man seems to get away with --not even borderline--pornographic "art" photography of contemporary Japan and Japanese women. He even looks like your stereotypical lecherous old man. Apparently his wife was his muse for a long time until she passed away--and his series featuring his work about her and surrounding her death are very humanizing and you begin to sympathize with him. But his other stuff, damn--google him. He makes American porn look like, well, a Disney movie.

here is one of his tame photographs. Look at those colors and that savage juxtaposition of decay, innocence, greed, and mangled fruit. It really reigns in your gaze and holds you there. stunning. Oh fellow Japanese people, we are so repressed and have the most perverse sexual fetishes.

3) Enka Music. LOVE IT AGAIN! the "Japanese blues" as they would call it. So much better than the chipmunk on speed, pop-y shit they churn out these days. Seriously. The new "J-pop" genre is making a farce of Kohaku. Old stuff forever y'all.

4) The Kill Bills: loved it the first and second time. and STILL LOVE IT. Nothing will ever be as good a pulp fiction--but comparing the kill bills and pulp fiction is like comparing apples and grapples. Same family, but different. and both good. Original is always fresh though.

...another Disney-related comment: SCAR is by far the hottest sounding Disney villain. Thanks to Jeremy fucking Irons. One of my favorite old British guys.

RETAIL THERAPY!

want. this. dress. I believe this is the material equivalent of valium.

I would call this an elegy but that would give this fiasco way too much credit. and it would be emo.

After crying my Lacrimal glands out non stop in self-pity for the past forty-eight hours I think that I may be approaching a tipping point. I have said my peace and have no regrets because it was precisely how I feel. This is interesting for me because its the first time that I, in spite of the sting of heartbreak and rejection, have said and done everything that I wanted in this disastrous relationship--and felt supremely honest about my actions. I tried my best, whole-heartedly, shamelessly, and with all earnestness.



.....AND conducted most of it over Instant Messenger. Not only a first for me, but also a testament to the distortion of human interaction via technology these days. No?

Looking at Adrienne Rich

Last night as I was NOT working on my art of Islam paper, I opened my fatty literature anthology from high school (good old X.J.K.) and rediscovered an Adrienne Rich poem that we read in English. Living in Sin She had thought the studio would keep itself; no dust upon the furniture of love. Half heresy, to wish the taps less vocal, the panes relieved of grime. A plate of pears, a piano with a Persian shawl, a cat stalking the picturesque amusing mouse had risen at his urging. Not that at five each separate stair would writhe under the milkman's tramp; that morning light so coldly would delineate the scraps of last night's cheese and three sepulchral bottles; that on the kitchen shelf amoong the saucers a pair of beetle-eyes would fix her own-- envoy from some village in the moldings... Meanwhile, he, with a yawn, sounded a dozen notes upon the keyboard, declared it out of tune, shrugged at the mirror, rubbed at his beard, went out for cigarettes; while she, jeered by the minor demons, pulled back the sheets and made the bed and found a towel to dust the table-top, and let the coffee-pot boil over on the stove. By evening she was back in love again, though not so wholly but throughout the night she woke sometimes to feel the daylight coming like a relentless milkman up the stairs. --Adrienne Rich

the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back"

"The Last Straw": the last in a series of grievances or burdens that finally exceeds the limits of endurance.

The results of "MAKE THIS PHOTO BETTER" from February 7-14:




What was HELP MAKE THIS PHOTO BETTER? An ex of mine gave me a very large photograph that he took of a very phallic silo in the middle of nowhere. Intriguing, yes, by virtue of its content, but in its execution and overall composition--rather boring and mediocre. (Although I must admit, at the time that I accepted the photograph, I told my then boyfriend that it was beautiful and very postmodern.) Rather than leaving the photograph to collect dust in my closet, I decided to conduct an experiment in participatory art. I posted the image on my locker in the art building and bid anyone to effectively do what ever they wanted to the image. Most people stuck to writing and painting on the image, as you can see.

(special thanks to the ex for providing the photograph that served as the foundation for this experiment.) how you like them apples?

on a side note: I think, contrary to popular belief, that I am actually capable of falling in love. I think that i've come closer to the perimeter of love than before--and I now hypothesize that one has fallen in love if one has sacrificed every last shred of his/her dignity for the object of desire. Because now (after numerous attempts at retail therapy) I am not only utterly broke but also missing my dignity--I have lost my pride (however temporarily). Despite the mass of recent purchases, I have not one article of clothing that will cover my ass.