In March I had the privilege of witnessing the revival of Once on This Island at Circle in the Square Theatre, a brilliantly told story of love, fear, sacrifice, and the freedom that eventually comes from that love. Based on the novel My Love, My Love; or The Peasant Girl by Rosa Guy, and partially inspired by Hans Christian Andersen’s fairytale “The Little Mermaid,” Once on This Island draws upon the elements of love and sacrifice while adding a much needed narrative dealing with colonialism, colorism, and the burdens placed upon black women.
Originally performed in 1990, with a book and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens and music by Stephen Flaherty, the musical has charmed audiences across the globe (Unfortunately that also comes along with some theaters and schools who perform the musical with a primarily or all white cast. I don’t care how much people love the show, there’s no excuse for whitewashing this story). The show was revived in 2017 by producer Ken Davenport and directed by Michael Arden, providing a refreshing look at the enchanting tale (along with a diverse and, in all aspects, a stellar cast).
Ti Moune, named Désirée Dieu Donne by her adoptive parents (but affectionately called Ti Moune “little orphan”), played by the immeasurably talented Hailey Kilgore, longs to know her purpose in life, having been saved by the gods when she was a small child. She knows she is destined for more than her life as a peasant on her side of the island, wanting to fly wherever she pleases like the white Mercedes of the grande homme who race down the roads. The gods hear her prayers, and grant her request, and satisfy a few ulterior motives of their own.
Erzulie: Beautiful Goddess of Love, played by Broadway veteran Lea Salonga, claims that love is stronger than any other element in the world, even death, much to the chagrin of Papa Ge: the Demon of Death portrayed by American Idol finalist and actor Tamyra Gray. They make a wager to see whether or not Ti Moune will prove Erzulie right. Thus the gods bring together the two worlds of the peasants and grand homme on a rainy and windswept night (thanks to the powers of Agwé, played by Quentin Earl Darrington, but for this particular performance I had the pleasure of seeing David Jennings play the God of Water) causing Daniel Beauxhomme, played by Isaac Powell in his fabulous and charming Broadway debut, to crash his car. Ti Moune saves his life, as the Mermaid saves the prince from his shipwreck, and ultimately falls in love with him after deciding that her purpose in life is to save and love the young man.
Eventually Daniel is taken back to his parents’ hotel on the other side of the island, and Ti Moune sets out on her journey. No one know exactly how she gets to the other side of the island, but we know she has help from Asaka: Mother of the Earth (portrayed by the incredible powerhouse that is Alex Newell), and eventually makes her way to the city of the grande homme. Ti Moune heals Daniel and eventually becomes his lover, much to the dismay of the Beauxhommes and city dwellers, who revile the young girl for her dark skin; However, when Ti Mount dances at the Hotel Beauxhomme’s ball, like the Little Mermaid, she wins the favor of the partygoers. Unfortunately, like the mermaid, she loses her love to another. Instead of a princess, Daniel is engaged to Andrea Devereaux, a grande homme who has just returned from Paris.
Heartbroken, Ti Moune is given an ultimatum by Pape Ge (as the Sea Witch did for the Mermaid): Kill Daniel and regain her old life “as if she had never loved at all.” She grabs the knife Papa Ge gives her, but then drops it, telling Daniel that she loves him. Ti Moune is cast out of the Hotel Bueaxhomme and she descends into sorrow, abandoned by the people who were so enamored with her. The gods “wept tears of compassion” for her, for she proved that love was stronger than any other element, and could survive even in the face of death. Through her sacrifice, Ti Moune is allowed to die peacefully in the sea before being reborn as a goddess. Her body is transformed into a beautiful tree that clings to the walls of the Hotel Beauxhomme, ensuring its gates will never shut anyone out again.
The Jewel of the Antilles (the name of the Island, which is also read as Haiti) represents a divide caused by the hatred, violence, and ignorance of a white colonialist. So how can the island and its people find healing? It was Ti Moune. All her life she questioned her purpose and why the gods saved her. She thought her destiny was so save and love Daniel, but that was only one part of her fate. The Storytellers explain that the tree (which Ti Moune dreamed of having in her garden when she and Daniel would get married) she transformed into sheltered both peasants and grande homme. One day, Daniel’s son saw a beautiful young peasant girl sitting in the tree, gazing out at the world. In that moment, Ti Moune’s love and sacrifice helped unite the island, bridging class, color, and gender. That is why they tell the story, it is about love, hate, sacrifice, and forgiveness.
In comparison with “The Little Mermaid,” there are several important distinctions that need to be made. The first is the aspect of colonialism and colorism that the musical deals with. The grand homme are born of violent oppression, as General Armand (a French invader) sexually assaulted many of his slaves. The song “The Sad Tale of the Beauxhommes” details the history of the colorism on the island as well as its racial divides, which concludes with Armand cursing his son, Beauxhomme, and his descendants. The grande homme are bound to the island by their Black heritage, while their hearts yearn for France. This is why the grande homme hate and resent the peasants, for they are a reminder of the grande hommes' blackness as well as the trauma caused by General Armand and his soldiers.
"The Little Mermaid," on the other hand, is more or less a tale of longing for freedom (and to have a soul), followed by an unrequited love. First and foremost, it is important to recognize that both the Mermaid and Ti Moune long for freedom and adventure first, the love for their prince/grande homme comes second. When the Mermaid sacrifices herself instead of the prince, she becomes a Daughter of the Air in order to earn her human soul after 300 years of service to the world’s children. The tale itself could be a metaphor for Andersen’s unrequited love for another man, but overall it is a story of sacrifice (and not very feminist). It’s also a case of mistaken identity, as the Prince thinks that a nearby Princess was the one who saved him, rather than the Mermaid. Ti Moune’s rejection is purely based on classism and colorism, which she breaks down through her sacrifice. The production itself also offers a more intersectional representation, including gender neutral casting (namely Tamyra Gray and Alex Newell), creating a near all encompassing and inclusive experience for actors and audiences alike.
After the performance, I sat and pondered for a while and pondered what type of goddess Ti Moune had become. Was she a minor deity of love? A tree goddess (which of course could come to represent other things)? Erzulie governs love, but Ti Moune was close to her, so it has to be something akin to love. It was at this moment that I realized the true significance of Ti Moune’s destiny. In sacrificing herself, eventually uniting peasant and grande homme, she broke General Armand’s curse. To quote the Storytellers, “And the spirit of Ti Moune touched their hearts and set them free to love. And she stands against the lightning and the thunder, and she shelters and protects us from above, and she fills us with the power and wonder of her love.” Ti Moune freed her people from the curse of the colonizer, bringing them together through love, freeing them of their pain and resentment for each other, and allowing them to move forward as a united people. Ti Moune is a Goddess of Freedom, freedom to love, to explore, and to live, which, like the Little Mermaid, is all she ever wanted.
Open your mind, be brave, and be kind.
It's been, well, quite a long time since I've been active on the blog. Nowadays I feel as if that is how I start off every one of my posts. Unfortunately I have been going through a bit of a pre-quarter life crisis (and I CANNOT wait for the next crisis in two years, or months, depends on how life goes), rethinking my career and artistic paths. However, not all is lost! Like the tides, I am constantly changing, and now that my latest temper tantrum is over I have embarked on what hopefully will be the next great step of my journey.
BUT NOAH!!! HOW WILL YOU DO THAT??? YOU HAVE A MELTDOWN ALMOST EVERY OTHER DAY!!
Well I'm glad you asked, voice in my head! One of my mentors, a fellow artist who currently resides in the Hudson Valley, told me to focus on "the rules" aka the principle characteristics and themes of a person's body of work. For example, when people think of Caravaggio, his name usually brings to mind soft but full figures, strong contrast of light and shadow (chiaroscuro for ya artsy folks), and strong religious scenes (he also painted some mighty fine men, but that's beside the point, for now). My mentor told me to identify the rules of each artist that draw inspiration from, and that list can be found here, and in doing so I will be able to more effectively define the rules of my own work.
Now that there are some rules in place (that will eventually be broken), I should have an easier time pursuing new projects and revitalizing old ones. Right now I'm drawing from a local crowd, and will hopefully find a few regular models for projects and collaborations (so if you know of anyone in the Philadelphia area, please let me know!). I've also joined the Center for Emerging Visual Artists as an Artist Member! They're a great organization that provides career guidance and support for emerging artists, as well as exhibition and teaching opportunities. I have not had any shows since my senior exhibition (and part of my time has been spent telling myself that it's okay, seeing as I have been focusing on my financial situation). As a dear friend and mentor of mine once said, "You've spent your time finding a way to survive, now you need to find your voice."
Thus, as a reminder, it's perfectly okay to take time for yourself, even if that means focusing on you financial situation. People will say "you need to accept that you're going to be poor for a long time if you want to make art," and while it is not always a lucrative career, or a quick track to success, it's okay to take that break from art. Some artists put down the brush, pen, camera, for years while they focused on working and getting themselves to a point where they feel stable. AND THAT IS PERFECTLY FINE. There is only one path to success that remains constant (and no, as much as I would love to say it's your own) and that is nepotism. Everyone else has to forge their own path, but even then we're not alone. As long as we are putting our work out there and making connections, someone will eventually notice. And that's all it takes. That one person will change your life for the better. So chin up.
Open your mind, be brave, and be kind.
It has been some time since I last posted, but (in good news) so much has happened! I've been working at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which gave me some time and resources (aka wages after bills and food, a queen's gotta eat!) to focus on my studio practice. Now that I have a creative space set up in my apartment I have been able to connect with other artists and begin work on some collaborations! I met Sam almost a month ago, and I must say he impressed me right from the start. He's mostly a self taught photographer, and he run his own fashion line called "Tag Times."
Sam's devotion to his craft, as well as his willingness to learn, has inspired me to work harder, and not make excuses for why I'm not creating photographs. As my studio practice grows and evolves I hope to have more opportunities to work with artists like Sam, and expand my social and artistic circles. Now, more than ever, is the time for artists to come together, for our collective experiences and visions weave a tapestry that will tell stories to future generations. In the mean time, we'll see what happens, so keep an eye out for more portraits and projects!
Open your mind, be brave, and be kind.
It's been a while since my last post (as is the case these days with many of my posts), but everything is going well! I have been living in Philadelphia for the past two months, and while there have been some struggles, I'm doing alright. My photography, on the other hand, has been a little lacking. For the longest time I couldn't bring myself to take a photograph, and when I did, I felt lost, useless. Part of it had to do with an arts position I was rejected from, and since my graduation I have been questioning my art and whether or not my life up until this point has been a complete waste.
However, there is a brighter end to this story. I was recently hired by the Philadelphia Museum of Art as a Visitor Services Assistant! It is a wonderful opportunity to be surrounded by important works, as well as learn the inner machinations of the museum. There are other artists who work at the PMA as well, and I have begun to feel a sort of kinship with my colleagues, so this is the right place for me to be. Hopefully in time I will be able to prove myself to the museum as well as my fellow artists, and make this City of Brotherly Love my new studio.
Now, you may be asking yourself at this point, what does this have to do with the pictures above? Didn't I say that I hadn't created any works since graduation? Well, yes, until recently. I was trying to get back into the gear of photography, working it over and over like a group of muscles. That is when I realized I had to go back to the basics. The first digital assignment I had in my photography course was "abstraction," bending the world around me using nothing but my lens as a way to crop and turn my surroundings. In a way, they are puzzle pieces that will never fit together, but when spread out, you start to notice the similarities. Thus I ventured out into the only place I was familiar with: my neighborhood. It's a small start, but these photographs are a step in the right direction.
I haven't really taken any photographs since the ones above, but I'm well on my way to working my photographic muscles (if you can call them that) and getting back into shape. I recently received my grandfather's old Polaroid cameras, which still work, much to my absolute joy, so that is another project for me to work on. Now all that's left to do is feel the rhythm of life and go about my days learning what I can and doing my best.
Until Next Time!
Open your mind, be brave, and be kind.
If most digital photographs represent 1/60-1/100 of a second in a person's life, then pinhole photography consumes the most time. Over the course of the spring semester I have conducted an independent study of alternative photography, exploring processes such as Polaroids, cyanotypes, and pinhole cameras. The self-portrait above is one of the first images I made in the study, and it is one of my most successful photographs from that experimentation. There are a variety of other subjects as well, such as buildings, abstractions, and a few somewhat successful attempts at overnight exposures. I also lent the camera to a few of my friends, and with minimal instruction they were able to create images.
Overall I would say letting go of my control over the camera was the biggest challenge, but in the end it taught me a lesson in patience. Part of that lesson involved realizing that I do not need to spend every second guarding the camera (which is somewhat anxiety-inducing). As I sequestered myself in Goodyear for a large portion of the semester while I worked on both of my theses I had the opportunity to be in close proximity to my camera but not have it on my mind at all times. That is where the mobile app Pinhole Assist became quite useful. Not only does it tell you what exposure time you need based on aperture, ISO, and the sensitivity of the paper, but it also acts as a timer for the exposure, allowing one to go about their other assignments, chores, etc. until the photograph has been fully exposed.
The independent study was also a good chance to reestablish a darkroom practice, which acts as a closed off creative spaced that has been sometimes likened to a womb (I'm unsure as to how I feel about that, but let's roll with it for now). While this means my practice at Dickinson is coming to a close I am fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to explore a variety of photographic processes. I've moved beyond my college career, so I'll be somewhat lacking in terms of a studio space, and while that may mean mediums such as pinhole and analog photography will be a bit more difficult to come by, but I can still take photographs every day. Art is a lifelong career and I don't plan to stop any time soon.
You can see more of my photography from the independent series here.
Until next time!
Open your mind, be brave, and be kind.
Well, here I am! It's been quite a while since my last post (since the elec- let's not talk about that), but I've been keeping myself busy with school. Graduation is just around the corner and I'm unsure as to what the future holds, and part of me will always look forward to endless possibilities. Unfortunately, reality has a bit of a bite at times. Don't get me wrong, pessimism is not one of my strong suits, but everyone has moments when they feel clouded and lost, almost cast out to sea wearing nothing but last year's swimsuit. I may be a Pisces and a former competitive swimmer, but I ain't a fish. Leaving college makes me feel as if I have floaties on, or at least should have a pair. I've been in academic institutions since preschool, almost 20 years of education, it's all I and my peers have known.
However, I'm sure that everything will be alright. Yes, there will be challenges, but the next few years will be a transformative experience full of uncertainty. Dickinson, even with its extensive education, can only prepare you so much. Initially I wanted to stay in Carlisle another year working as a post-baccalaureate artist in residence, but part of me knew that it was just to be safe, because I doubted myself. Within my thesis seminar I grew immensely as both a writer and person, cultivating a stronger sense of self-confidence in my voice, but I know that doubt will always be a struggle. But at least I will be better equipped to deal with it. All I can do now is be kind, to myself and others, the former being especially important, and continue to look forward to what the future holds.
On that note, entering into the adult world as a hopefully artist is a tricky situation, but thankfully my education has been, as Dickinson would put it, a "useful liberal arts education" and very "interdisciplinary." Right now I'm just trying to find ways to combine my passions of writing and art with helping others. Social justice, arts advocacy, etc. All are wonderful and worthwhile careers, and maybe those paths will intersect throughout my life. Where those paths lead? Who can say? Philadelphia and D.C. appear to be my next destinations, so I will seek out opportunity there (Aren't I the wayward traveler? "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, both need some serious landscaping."). In any case, we'll see what the future will bring. All we can do now is live out our lives in honesty, kindness, and whatever clichéd, but still valid virtues we humans might possess. Hopefully, there will is still a time and place to make things right. Until then, I feel it best to end this post with a quote from Leonard Bernstein's Candide: "We're neither pure, nor wise, nor good, we'll do the best we know. We'll build our house, and chop our wood, and make our garden grow."
Good luck. Until next time.
Open your mind, be brave, and be kind.
If those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it then the United States is in a slew of problems. However, one that has remained untouched by much of the mainstream media is the reemergence of an AIDS epidemic, due to the legislation of conservative lawmakers and politicians. For those of you who are unfamiliar with 80s Reaganite America and the devastating effect it had on LGBTQIA+ people (aside from Reagan tripling the national deficit), allow me to illuminate a troubled past that is seldom taught or mentioned. In 1981 a study was published focusing on five gay men with a rare lung disease, this would quickly become known as "gay cancer" before receiving its official term: AIDS.
Four years after the first case of AIDS, Reagan used the term publicly for the first time, but it was four years too late. He called it a "top priority," but for the past four years he had been joking about it, laughing and dismissing the issue as Americans were dying, and most of them were LGBTQIA+ people of color. Hollywood star Rock Hudson came to Ronald and Nancy Reagan for help, but they dismissed him, and when reporters started to inquire about his health they pretended it was nothing more than the flu or pneumonia. That same year Elizabeth Taylor became chairman of the American Foundation for AIDS Research and would later go on to create underground circles to distribute AZT (which had not been approved by the FDA for public use) to people with HIV/AIDS.
In 1987 Reagan made his first speech about AIDS, but it was six years too late at that point. Panic and stigma had already become a fast-acting poison among the American people, leading to mistreatment and violence against people with HIV/AIDS and the people who cared for them (Joseph A. Sonnabend was a doctor who was threatened with eviction from his apartment for treating patients with AIDS. This lead to the first AIDS-discrimination lawsuit in 1983). By the end of the 1980s 100,000 people had died of AIDS-related illness, and by 1999 it was labeled the fourth biggest killer worldwide, with almost 30 million people living with HIV and an estimated 16,000 new cases each day. We have come a ways since then, with improved treatment and medicines such as pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP), but unfortunately there is a movement by the Republican presidential candidate to undo decades of work.
Donald Trump and Mike Pence have led a terrifying campaign that I can really only describe as the Swiss Army Knife of bigotry and hatred (racism, sexism, anti-LGBTQIA+, classism, islamophobia, xenophobia, etc.), but one point left out by many mainstream sources of journalism (excluding sources like OUT Magazine, The Advocate, and Pride) is how Mike Pence is already creating an AIDS epidemic in Indiana that is spreading across the south and midwest. Trump wants to appoint justices who bear resemblance to Scalia in their politics, but Pence wants to take funding for HIV research and put it towards conversion therapy. Yes, that includes shock therapy and ultimately leads to anxiety, depression, trauma, and ultimately suicide for most LGBTQIA+ people who are forced to enter conversion therapy, most of them being minors.
If these men reach the presidency (and in the event Pence somehow becomes the president) then it spells certain doom for many LGBTQIA+ people in the United States, especially Black and Latinx people within the LGBTQIA+ community. With HIV research funding cut who knows what else will happen, besides a lack of distribution of HIV/AIDS medication, hospitals, apartments, hotels, restaurants, and stores refusing service and/or accommodation. We will enter back into a Reaganite era where not only LGBTQIA+ people, but anyone with HIV/AIDS will be presented with harsh stigma and discrimination, and ultimately death for many. Men who have sex with men are currently banned from donating blood despite the fact that every donor is screened for diseases, and that puts a huge damper on the amount of blood that could be life-saving, and the law was only temporarily repealed so that queer men could donate blood for the victims of the Orlando shooting in the summer of 2015, so imagine what would happen with this type of legislation in place. Thus I ask you to engage in dialogue about these issues, question as much as you can, and help educate others, just like Gran Fury and ACT UP (the artist/activist groups which created the posters featured above). Silence on these issues is a form of violence, so speak up, and help others whose voices cannot be heard, for there is a chance they may be silenced forever. Please do not take this as fear mongering, I am simply pointing out the similarities in anti-LGBTQIA+ politics in multiple decades. We all have something to learn from history.
If you want to learn more about HIV/AIDS you can go to www.aids.gov or look at their timeline documenting the history of HIV/AIDS.
Open your mind, be brave, and be kind.
It has been a few months since I started my senior year, and the studio process is well underway. Questions of queer literary and artistic scholarship are constantly present, and I'm starting to doubt myself in some ways. Part of this lies in defining for myself what "queer art" is, and whether or not I can claim it. Is my identity enough to make it queer art, or does my subject matter have to explicitly state it (and in that turn isn't any subject matter I portray under the influence of my own identity)? John Dugdale and Robert Mapplethorpe are two of the primary artists I am looking at this year, in addition to artists like Duane Michals, Diane Arbus, Nan Goldin, Paul Cadmus, Charles Demuth, and Julia Margaret Cameron (who to my knowledge isn't queer but she is one of the most important and prolific artists in the history of photography), and the situation of queer men in the 80s and 90s, particularly concerning HIV and AIDS.
Dugdale and Mapplethorpe were both diagnosed with HIV, which later developed into AIDS, like many other queer men in those decades. Their art reflects on that, and Dugdale almost lost his sight due to AIDS-related complications, which would have ended his career. Their struggles are still faced by people today, and while the prevention and treatment methods are better it is still an issue swept under the rug. I don't have HIV or AIDS, so can I use them as my inspiration? Some of the most prevalent queer artists from the 80s and 90s had/have HIV/AIDS so is that something that bars my generation from emulating them and their work? Should this art be left to people with those same infections? After all it is an experience and legacy they have a right to own. Both Dugdale and Mapplethorpe are important figures in queer photography, so they're incredibly important to my process (especially since I'm working in working in cyanotype). Perhaps my duty then as an artist is to preserve their legacy for others, almost like reporting, especially given the lack of attention paid to queer artists in the high art circles. It's showing that my art and that of others in my generation recognize those who came before us and will do our best to ensure that queer art and history is not buried and forgotten. It is a part of the "queer zeitgeist," adding to the community and its story which transcends time and culture.
Last week I arrived in Hawai'i to begin a photographic adventure, doing my best to not be an obnoxious visitor. Fortunately my schedule is full of events and programs to avoid the typical tourist path. On Thursday my parents and I went on a tour of the Honolulu Fish Auction with one of our friends from N.O.A.A. (The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration) to learn about the fishing industry in the islands. Due to the effects of colonialism and mass market demands affecting Hawai'i I was worried about how it had an effect not only on the local population but also on the ecosystem. Fortunately thanks to organizations like N.O.A.A. fish crews are able to catch the deep sea supply needed for local restaurants and markets.
Upon hearing the word "auction" I was somewhat surprised, having always associated the term with luxury goods and works of art, but it proved to be a quick paced and calm means of selling fish. The most common catch of the day (as it is for many days) was Ahi Tuna, ranging between 140 and 250 pounds on average along with some Moonfish and other creatures. Buyers shuffled from row to row while the auctioneer rattled off prices increasing by 10 cents each millisecond. This continued on until all the fish had been purchased. Our tour guide mentioned that the most expensive fish was a 489 pound bluefin tuna which sold to a Japanese buyer for 1.8 million dollars. While the Honolulu Fish Auction has never reached that price, visitors will still pay very high prices for their fish. The philosophy of the fish market is quite similar to buying diamonds: size, quality, color, and cut. Core samples are taken from each specimen to look at how the fish has started to age (as it will start to decrease in value and quality as soon as it is brought out of the water), and cuts are made in the tail too look at the amount of fatty acids omega 3s, indicating the nutrition level of the fish. So while size can matter when it comes to the price of the fish, it is not as much of a concern as the quality.
As the Honolulu Fish Auction provides much of the fish (in particular Ahi Tuna) for not only the islands but the U.S. there is much concern for how this affects the local ecosystem, especially for animals such as sharks, sea turtles, and Hawaiian monk seals (which are only found on Hawai'i). To ensure that humans make as little negative impact as possible (along with making sure that all the boats have the propers licenses and certifications/trainings), N.O.A.A. regulates the fishing season by sending one representative out with each fleet of boats for the weeks or months necessary to haul in the catch. The representative will collect data on the catches as well as the interactions the boat has with sea turtles. If the interaction rate reaches a certain level then the ships have to return to harbor and fishing is shut down for the entire season. Fortunately that hasn't happened for some time, but that hasn't stopped the problems with the industry. While trying to be environmentally conscious and ensure that the reefs and natural heritage sites have enough room, organizations are cutting away from the room local fishermen have to work in, threatening not only their way of life but one of Hawai'i's primary industries. This would lead to further problems with fishing in international waters as well as being forced to take less sustainable and environmentally-damaging measurers.
Throughout the rest of my stay on Oahu I am trying to be highly conscious of the results of colonialism and the forced tourist industry, I am glad that Hawai'i is managing to preserve some of its traditions, even if it isn't in the most desirable circumstances. Indigenous populations are able to continue fishing and taking what they need from nature without damaging it, and it is a relief to see that the demands of the rest of the U.S. are being handled as well as possible. (On that note ATTENTION FELLOW PEOPLE FROM THE MAINLAND. Please take the time to recognize the effects and consequences of colonialism on not only Hawai'i but also other island nations that are typically seen as hot tourist spots. We shouldn't be traveling to these locations to be waited on hand and foot, we should be traveling to experience different cultures.) This is primarily why I prefer the term traveler to tourist. Tourist implies an expected level of comfort and privilege due to the effects of colonialism making nations reliant on the tourist economy, exaggerating the native traditions to pander to and fascinate the white tourist. Traveling (to me) implies a sense of willing to be uncomfortable, to be open to experiences and search for the authentic and engaging when allowed by the native population. With that being said, I'm looking forward to more adventures on Oahu. Until next time!
Open your mind, be brave, and be kind.
It's been a while since I posted, but with school having ended a few weeks ago and getting ready for my internship there hasn't been much time for exploration and working on my art. However, I have been fortunate enough to explore another part of the art world! This summer I am interning at the Hudson Valley Center for Contemporary Art (HVCCA) in Peekskill, NY. It is a part of the Marc & Livia Strauss Foundation (they own a few galleries in Manhattan as well) that focuses on local art of the Hudson Valley. It has been a pleasure being able to work with them so far, as I finally have some experience in learning how museums and galleries work with artists, as well as what to expect when I graduate and begin my career as an artist.
There is a lot to think about, especially with my senior year approaching and trying to survive art dealerships and such. My internship with the HVCCA allows me to make great connections with artists and learn how to gauge prices for my work, something that many young artists are not taught in school. Rather than use this blog to talk about my job I decided to make use of the LinkedIn platform and offer up a critique of the current situation for artists which I have titled "Survival of the Artist." I'll be keeping up on my internship on that platform unless it is something pertaining to an artist or my artwork, which will be on here. Fortunately my internship allows me enough time for adventures to find inspiration and create. Until next time!
Open your mind, be brave, and be kind.
To See With One's Body and Soul
This blog documents all of my adventures, as well as my development into an artist, writer, and a better person.