Posts Tagged 'projects'

1000X

apples

This is kind of a sketch for a much larger project I’ve been thinking about for probably two years now. I’ve dubbed it the “1000X Project”.

When I was maybe five years old, my parents brought home a huge basket full of apples and put them in our kitchen. I can’t remember if we’d visited an orchard or what. Apparently I snuck into the kitchen and proceeded to take a single bite from EVERY APPLE. Then I put all the apples back into the basket, turned so the bite marks were hidden. I don’t remember doing this.

I think my parents were amused when they discovered what I had done. My mom says she thinks I was “just searching for the perfect apple”. I have always liked to tell this story, not only because it’s kind of funny, but also because it seems like everyone I tell it to has a similar kind of story about something they did or said when they were a kid. As children we said or did things either out of curiosity or some very natural drive to create or to explore. And we started to learn, from our parents or others, that some of these actions were not quite “normal” or “appropriate”. Part of growing up in any society is learning about and then respecting certain social norms and boundaries. Adults who fail to respect those boundaries are probably going to be considered either rude or crazy.

For example, children like to stare. In line at the grocery store, I love to watch little kids staring at people. They haven’t learned yet that it’s “rude”- they’re just curious, and they find new people and new faces fascinating, especially if they’re different than the faces they’re accustomed to seeing. But soon enough they have it drilled into them by the adults in their lives that staring isn’t appropriate. And so they begin to learn to hide their curiosity, because it makes other people uncomfortable.

My friend Grace remembers being fascinated by watching her mother put on makeup. One day Grace took a tube of her mom’s lipstick and proceeded to cover her entire face with it. My friend Lisa grew up without any pets. She lived in a very arid part of Texas, and she started capturing tumbleweeds and trying them to a fence with string. She thought of the weeds as her pets. One day her dad untied them all. She was crushed. My boyfriend, proud that he could write his name, took a knife and carved the letters into his dresser. He showed his mother, thinking she would be proud, and found out otherwise.

These are the kind of things that are interesting to me. These specific moments of childhood creation and exploration- the things we remember but that we wouldn’t dare repeat. Maybe we were told gently, maybe we were laughed at, maybe we were scolded, maybe we were beaten. Maybe that moment was a turning point in our childhood, or maybe it was just one of many subtle lessons that added up to a larger picture of what we were taught about being a functioning member of society. Either way, we took note, and we started to change.

So for the project-I started by re-enacting my apple incident. I’m not really happy with the way it looks and I’d definitely re-shoot it for the project. I shot it in a small space in my old apartment with a couple of shop lights which nearly melted my face off. I bought a huge sack of apples from the grocery store and filled a basket. I wanted the whole thing to have a really intentional kind of ritualistic quality to it, so I tried to pace my motions and make everything fluid. I took small bites of apple but by the end I felt kind of sick. At one point I bit into a slightly rotten one and I almost gagged but I kept going! Uck.

I’d like to do a series of these, with adults re-enacting their specific incidents, all in a formal and delicate manner. Kind of conjuring up our spirits from childhood. I’d like to accumulate a whole catalog of these re-enactments, and then there would be lots of interesting ways to display them. I think about entering a huge, neutral white space with lots of these images projected one right after the other, larger than life, silent, ghost-like.  I’d like to keep all the forms close to each other in terms of scale and then arrange them next to each other however they interact best visually…

Shazam! Please let me know if you have an “incident” you’d like to contribute to the project.

Learning to Love You More

Richie and I recently started a Yahoo group dedicated to executing various assignments from the amazing and astounding learningtoloveyoumore.com. Learning to Love You More is the brainchild of artists Miranda July and Harrell Fletcher. The project exists both as a website and as a series of traveling exhibitions. The premise is relatively simple: “assignments” are posted to the site, and anyone who wants to can accept one of these assignments and submit the results back to LTLYM.

As of today there are 68 assignments, which take the form of everything from “take a picture of the sun” and “take a picture of your parents kissing” to “interview someone who has experienced war” and “spend time with a dying person“. The instructions for the assignments are all very straightforward and specific.

I think LTLYM is an example of just how beautiful the internet can be. It’s totally open and democratic- anyone who wants to participate can. There is no target demographic. Each assignment is like a gentle yet penetrating question about who we are and how we relate to the world.

I love what Miranda July had to say about “connecting” online: “There are so many opportunities to put a picture of your face online, or write what your hobbies are… But at a certain point, it’s like- who cares? That’s somehow not doing the job…” And it’s so true. We have all these ways of reaching out to people online, but somehow it’s still so sterile and distant. You can look at someone’s Facebook page and see a picture of them with their cat and read what their favorite movies are and where they went to high school, but it’s all there in that cookie-cutter template. It doesn’t leave much room for exploration or imagination or…warmth.

Here’s an interview with Miranda July on LTLYM…

I think the part of that interview that really strikes a chord with me is this:

No one’s making an archive of these “unimportant” things, like pictures of parents kissing as taken by their children. And it’s such an uncomfortable thing- of course there’s not going to be a coffee table book of that. But now we have an archive! And the second there’s many, it becomes proof of something- something that is so unspecific that it’s lively. To me that’s really alive- that kind of half-nauseous, half-beautiful feeling.

Because often times the way things are, if we really look, is rather nausea-inducing. We get so caught up in maintaining this veneer over ourselves and our lives, that when someone holds a mirror up to us and allows us to see ourselves, warts and kissing parents and all, it can be fairly disconcerting. LTLYM, in it’s own subtle way, offers up a gentler kind of mirror. By being carefully prodded to step outside of ourselves in order to dissect and examine the very guts of our lives, we are suddenly given permission to embrace our idiosyncrasies and our imperfections. They become something to study and learn from rather than something to be ashamed of.

LTLYM celebrates our collective curiosity and the very act of making. The “reports” are only proof that you’ve gone through the process- that you’ve participated. The emphasis is not on polish and perfection but on following our natural creative instincts and how, when viewed as a whole, we really do have more uniting us as humans than we do keeping us apart.

The first assignment our group chose to complete was #64- “Teach Us an Exercise”. This is mine…

1. I do this exercise every day with my baby. It works your stomach, your arms and your thighs! First, get a chunky baby and sit her on your feet while you're seated on the floor. Hold on to her waist.

2. Next, start bouncing her up and down by lifting your feet up and lowering them back down. Keep your stomach muscles flexed.

3. Bounce her up higher and higher...

3. Bounce her up higher and higher...

4. Lower her down to you and give her a kiss. I usually repeat 5-6 times, or until my stomach gets tired.

4. Lower her down to you and give her a kiss. I usually repeat 5-6 times, or until my stomach gets tired.

P.S. I would love to somehow integrate LTLYM into a library program. I’ll think on that…