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.
i somehow found myself in the middle of all the *action* this weekend. the soundtrack was RPGs, gunshots, and an assortment of specialists on TV bestowing their opinions. fat and skin hung over their shirt collars.
my cousin and i were alone and trapped in the house for three days, with these sounds, neighboring snipers, and these opinionated men. by the third day they all became the same; best navy blue suits, best persuasive-face on, gravelly voices exhausting. i drew some of them as they spoke. perhaps i was trying to separate them. because by Monday the news was discussed by things and not people. newsy Arabic was an ugly rhapsody. Beirut was something to pity.
traps to share in cycles
ink on canvas paper, 50×70 cm
bitchy old men who drive taxis
giuliana rancic and her obscenely uninteresting show
waking up sweaty
colorful compliments from construction workers
not having enough time to paint
CORN IN MY SANDWICHES
getting dressed to go out and spending the entire night pregaming
people who say YOLO
insufficient funds at the end of every month
getting compared to a young mariah carey
the conspicuously strong september sun
all things orange flavored
my three renegade grey hairs
obnoxious attention-seeking behavior from grown men and women
powder scented deoderant
the brutal gang rape of the genre formerly known as dubstep
the brutal gang rape of the genre formerly known as folk
being spoken to through the door while i urinate
ugly children with attitudes
people who chew or eat loudly
sales clerks who follow you around to ensure you don’t steal
losing my car keys
fourteen-year-old girls who think a second ear piercing makes them courtney love
ordering 1$ DVDs to find they’ve been filmed in a cinema
having oily hands
celery sticks and people who claim to enjoy them
every sitcom spinoff ever
sleeping weird and waking up with a stiff neck
front-wedgies in spinning class
these are but a few. i feel several kilograms lighter now.
feel free to make personal additions below! RANT!
A4 sketchbook collage