Leila – Gabrielle Duplantier
below is BY FAR the funniest thing i have seen in a very, very long time. sometimes you come across things that you are certain have come from that superior part of your brain you could never tap into. except someone else did. and printed it on a 1,8906% real teeshirt. whoever came up with this has entirely redefined the term “FAIL.” some favorites:
check out http://wearedumb.com/ for more teen angst, poorly drawn not-so-popular-anymore media, and lots of hashtags.
many thanks to superstar betterthanme bigbrother for sending me that glorious link. watch him talk about his epic new Arabic programming language, قلب (Arabic for heart,) exploring code as a form of self expression. HE IS THE SHITS.
letters by Emma Hauck, a schizophrenic mother of two writing in vain to her husband. found after her death the letters speak of dementia in extreme longing. the precision of her print confronts her mental illness; obsessive repetition forming a heartbreaking textile of need.
live public painting and mixed media:
Acrylic, ink, yarn on paper; crate and jacket
Painting: 200 x 200 cm
Found object sculpture: 66.5 x 66.5 cm
Live painting and cutout assembled at 2-hour El Yafta public arts festival. Male behavior, specifically that of Arab men, is parodied as one feeds off of another. The second man reflects Beirut’s skyline and clings to the objects that tie him down in an intimate spatial intervention.
i wasn’t really back when i said i was.
applying to graduate school is a FULL TIME JOB, and has effectively consumed my life as of late. by the end of the process, a 16-image portfolio maximum was tough to meet, when at first it seemed a ludicrously low quota. i’m excited. i think i am ready for this.
what i’m not entirely ready for is being a female outside of my cozy social sphere. WHY DO WE COMPETE LIKE BABOONS? and why do we try so unbelievably hard? elevator eyes, unnaturally high-pitched greetings, false compliments and self-serving storytelling. like, ewwww. i had the misfortune of working “freelance” under a woman a little while ago. she went out of her way to humiliate and take advantage of me. was i a threat or is she just a massive bitch? is it a Lebanese thing? i can’t for the life of me tell.
the trend in female aggression is covertness, to which i can testify. i will privately wipe a booger on someones sketchbook if i don’t like her, and laugh about it with a best friend. but recently i’ve noticed females trying to one-up each other by looking better, and it is fucking bizarre.
you are meeting up with old friends. claiming to have a big night out afterwards, one is dressed to go to the Oscars.
your friend has tagged you in a photo on Facebook. she looks like a model. you look like Richard Simmons.
the list goes on. male-kind, i envy you in your hairy low-maintenance.
social media is a catalyst here, transforming a platform for communication into gallery of free-spirited creatures who just want to live life and be crazy and YOLO all the way home, with effortless (shhh, 2 hours-in-front-of-a-mirror, sshhh) beauty.
like this asshole, delicate but likely damaged, with her faux wistful smile.
this has been my inconsequential grumbling of the week: ladies, be nicer, and no one really cares too much how you look.
(all i want for christmas is the following)
i dreamt this in the summer, facing its twin,
one was colored and one filled in.
after a long,
long bout of travel; overwhelming work; and finally illness
I HAVE RETURNED.
many pieces and thoughts to share,
but in the meantime–some BOMB ASS ARTWORK.
meet Justin Bartlett, illustrator extaordinaire. his work is blaphemic and dark, a large and seemingly unhappy family of snakes, skulls, human-wolf hybrids and others in a ritualistic, pagan landscape of crosses and branches. it’s that whole bad-things-happening-in-a-forest-after-dark aesthetic that i’m way into lately.
i need to cover the entire surface area of my room with these quilts.
at left we smell
the changing season
bereft our shell
of common reason
the clock may halt
for just a smidge
to walk our salts
across the bridge
[images via tumblr/pinterest/instagram/personal research folders]