Senior Photo

The woman Silas is interning with was so kind to take our portraits for the Biola yearbook.

I am finished up with my internship hours, and I am looking forward to the extra time on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have to write 4 papers within the next three weeks. THREE WEEKS! that is all the time I have left here in NY.

The cold weather is back, and it looks like its finally here to stay. We had a couple of weeks that stayed between 40-low 60's. But with the cold weather has come the Christmas decorations. Macy's just revealed their windows, and the city is bedecked in reds and greens. I walked by the ice rink at Bryant Park today...I think that maybe this weekend I will make my way over there. It is a bigger rink than the one at Rockefeller, and there are not as many spectators to see you fall either.

Rachel's family is in town for Thanksgiving, and they were so kind as to invite me out to dinner with them the other night. We ate at the Carnegie Deli, a used-to-be popular hotspot where performers would hang out after their shows at Carnegie Hall. The decor is so...quirky. There are framed and signed photographs of all the stars that have eaten at the deli, and they line the walls from floor to ceiling.

Sorry I haven't been posting enough photographs until now. My camera's battery has been dead for weeks and I continually forget to charge it.
Soon to come...photos of our Thanksgiving Feast and the Macy's parade...

An assortment of photos..some are from a splendid day in Central Park.

true story. it often happens.

Nothing short of acid water

Have I yet mentioned 85 cent coffee? The Plymouth Cafe is located across the street from the George (my residence, in case you forgot) and it is a favorite stop of mine before I jump on the train for school. The cafe, if you were judging by its looks, is not a place I would normally find myself. It has bad lighting, a dry-erase board with the menu haphazardly written all over it (that for a non-regular Plymouth goer, it would take a good 5 minutes to figure out), silver coffee carafs lining the counter, random regulars ranging in all ages and classes seated at the 4 tables, and awnings so low, you have to duck in order to get to into the cafe. Despite appearances, this place has the best egg and cheese sandwiches and blueberry muffins (Shannon and I will always try and plan a few extra minutes in our mornings) but I always look forward to 85 cent coffee the most. Growing up my parents (and they still do) have always bought Folgers coffee. Folgers is weaker, and sometimes I am shame-faced for saying that I drink it, especially being the knowlegable Starbucks barista that I was. I still prefer really good coffee, because there is nothing more that I love than finding a great cafe or coffee shop (starbucks not included), but something about Folgers reminds me of home..I am conditioned towards it. 85 cent coffee at Plymouth is your typical diner coffee, your choices ranging in Hazelnut, Vanilla Creme, and your standard regular and decaf...yet that amber liquid in the "I Heart the Big Apple" cups, never fails to get my morning off to a good start.

So this morning, after making my selection of blueberry muffin and hazelnut coffee, I made my way to the trains, only to find out my regular train isn't making trips into Manhattan this weekend. As I began to walk toward Montague where I can board the yellow R train, a frustrated and distraut looking girl asked me where she could find a train that would take her up to Time Square. Her name was Gloria, a prosecutor specializing in child abuse cases, no more than 27, 28 years old if I had to guess...maybe 5'6", brown short (slightly disheveled) hair, brown, thick-rimmed glasses, a nose piercing, bejeweled in thick silver rings and bracelets, and what I liked most about Gloria was the way she spoke. A casual sounding voice, not aggressive, but passive, slightly sounding of a stuffed up nose, talking quickly yet not too hurried, and comfortable. Gloria was anything but shy, and the walk to the train went quickly, in fact, the whole ride into Manhattan was enjoyable as we talked about our career choices, talking about the issues she has to deal with in abuse cases, and how much we both enjoy New York. She even invited me to come out with her friends, but because I have a month left (I can hardly wrap my mind around that) I don't foresee that happening. People like Gloria, that I have met from time to time, have made this experience worthwhile. Even if NYCAMS had turned out to be a bust, I think that my time here would have still been enjoyable, just based on experiences I have had so far.

Time to get to work....its getting down to crunch time. Our show is coming up and the selections for the show will be made a week from Monday. It looks like this Thanksgiving may not be as relaxing as past years.

And November is Half-Way Over?

Tomorrow is the day I register for classes at Biola for the next semester. I almost don't believe that I am done. I was always told that these four years are over in what seems two year's time, but I never quite believed it. As I looked at the course options and suddenly realized I am almost done with all my studio classes, I began to panic...at least just a little. The routine of school, the people you meet, the community, and the amazing professors I have grown to love and respect will all be taken away from me in about 7 months. I know its time to move on, but I have a hard time accepting that fact. I have always enjoyed school; i love learning and being challenged, and while those challenges will take different shape after graduation, there is something rewarding about being in school and having to undergo finals and papers, because in the end the satisfaction of having completed/learned something is invaluable.

I have loved NY. I am already getting somewhat melancholy at the thought of leaving. But I am ready to go back to Biola and finish strong. The living situation is another issue I have been thinking a lot about. After graduation i had always pictured moving back to Seattle, because there are so many people that I still love up there, but if i am going to pursue my artistic practice, staying in southern California where there is a strong art community (especially in places such as long beach) would be beneficial....I think it has been weighing on me more than I thought.

I am at a crossroads in my artistic career...there are so many things I want to do, and I thank all of you who put up with my "I think I would like to do _____ after graduation" statements, you are so kind for humoring me (especially Rachel, who usually laughs but seems genuinely interested). My portfolio and my general pursuits have taken a turn in the last two years from a design focus to a fine art focus. My inspirations as of late have been tactile foundations that I continue to explore...I usually start with the material and the content usually closely follows. So what do I do with all of these things I love? Painting, drawing, printmaking, three dimensional works, design? I thought about set design..thus the choice of internship, and I have also thought about getting an MFA in art history and working as an art collector and in the future as a prof...then there is illustration, and writing...a complete departure. I'm not even sure where I am going with this entry, I guess these are just some thoughts, and if you ever hear of someone needing to hire an artist with varied interests...give them my name.

Magnolia Bakery

I'm supposed to be making art right now. But I just got back from the best spontaneous excursion, and I knew that if I did not sit down and tell you about this experience right now, my excitment might wane and I would therefore not be able to adequately describe the pudding I just ate. Yes that's right, I said pudding. Let me preface this all by making sure you understand something...I love making art..I really do. But I also love being social, and when it comes right down to it, I will sometimes choose the social outing, or the conversation with so-and-so instead. Yes, this is a fault to a degree, because I love to talk and as the story goes, 5 minutes can quickly become 2 hours. So tonight I was faced with this decision. I actually contemplated not going (a big step forward, I thought) but in the end I would have missed out on the most glorious banana pudding this side of heaven. If you are not a banana fan, as most people are not, please set aside your judgments for the moment and continue reading with an open mind...

Magnolia Bakery is located in the West Village; an average looking corner bakery tucked in amidst retail stores bearing designer labels, chic apartments, and generally attractive people perusing the streets. But don't be fooled by the mom-and-pop looking decor, oh no..this bakery is happening. The hipsters, the fashion-forward, the college student, the tourist, even the local PTA may be found crowding the tiny bakery, while the edgy-looking bakers and clerks ring up the purchases usally comprising of their famous cupcakes. People rave over these cupcakes, I personally have yet to try one, but the banana pudding is the best thing there....or so the "bouncer" at the front door says (it was so crowded the line wrapped around the corner of the building). I quickly paid for my pudding and was not two steps out the door when I couldn't take it anymore..I had to taste it before I took another step. However, in the end i had to move farther away from people because my joy and excitement over this pudding could not be contained, and when in the West Village, ALWAYS play it cool...don't get overly excited, ESPECIALLY when it comes to banana pudding, even if it is from Magnolia (though I secretly think all the posh people are inwardly ecstatic). As rich as homemade whipped cream, the pudding does not even deserved to be categorized with pudding...it needs a genre all to itself! Bananas and cake are mixed in, and let me tell you about what I call P.P.D.S., otherwise known as Post Pudding Depression Syndrome, because if you eat this pudding you will inevitably face this when you clean your cup.
1) Don't Panic. Though there is one Magnolia, your waistline will thank you in the end that this treat is not so readily available.
2) Focus on the good times. Like the first bite, don't think about the end; see the pudding cup as half-full, not half-empty.
3) Spread the word. Talking about the pudding is not the same as eating it, but it might bring you some happiness in thinking about it.

And with that I end this entry. The woodshop is calling my name, I have an early morning call time for a photo-shoot for Neiman Marcus (intern work), and if I tell you anymore about this pudding, it might just break your heart. And really who wants a broken heart over pudding?

Cafe Lalo

Joe Fox is meeting Kathleen Kelly, though he doesn't know its Kathleen, but thinks it is the woman he is exchanging e-mails with. The Place: Cafe Lalo, where I have just been with some friends. It is very small and crowded, but the atmosphere is very European cafe...at least that is what they claim, because I have never been to Europe. The pastry case that greets you is full of gorgeous desserts. Yes, gorgeous. Tarts, pies, muffins, eclairs, etc, etc. all made to perfection. Cappacinos and waitresses flying about, couples leaning in and talking close, bright French ads adorning bare brick walls, music floating in the air above, espresso steam hissing...the sounds and colors of Cafe Lalo are the things happy thoughts are made of. Defintately Peter Pan flying material. $15 dollars later and 2 hours later we emerged a group of very happy girls.....

All You Need Is Love

Yesterday was a good day. It did start out somewhat...odd. We had a lecturer come and speak to us on DADA. It is the first of three lectures. Every art historian or artist must deal with Duschamp and DADA at some point, so while I am touch and go with this era in art history, I felt the neccessity to pay attention. The lecture ended with the instructions to produce our own ready-mades and title them...the title and placement in the gallery being what makes/breaks the piece. So ridiculous. I endured 45 minutes of talking about the various objects.

After class I went with Rachel to an art gallery in Soho where we saw the work of Tauba Auerbach. She works with the idea of language and letters and how those are communicated through codes or systems...brilliant, brilliant, brilliant. While we were walking back to the subway (talking about how inferior we felt as artists) we were some of the only people along the sidewalk, except a man coming towards us dressed in all black with large, dark sunglasses on. It looked like Ewan McGregor, so I indiscreetly stared as he walked past and suddenly realized it was him. Now, I have declared a few times since being here (in regards to celebrity sightings) that all I wanted was to see Ewan and my life would be complete. So you can imagine that when I realized it was him I was not very calm....at all. We turned around and watched him duck into a very expensive clothing store, where a clerk was waiting for him, holding the door. It was too much a temptation not to go back and look through the windows. Ok, so yes, it was a very awkward, stalker-like thing to do, but I really don't care because I got to see his face. So the entire day yesterday I had the satisfaction of telling my friends, very casually of course...not too excited...that I had seen Ewan McGregor and I will admit, I really enjoyed the look of envy that came across their faces.....