Now and Now and Now . . .

Every Day.

2012-02-11T15:23:00.000-08:00

I want to dress like this every single day.

Scarlet O'Hara mixed with Rockabilly and the 50's.

Three of the best things.

Yum.

F/W 2011 collection

from Russian designer Ulyana Sergeenko.

VIA Haute Macabre

Taxidermy Genius

2012-02-11T15:17:00.001-08:00

Jump

2012-02-11T14:57:00.000-08:00

VIA

Bring the house down.

2012-02-08T13:35:00.000-08:00

 The ruins of Detroit, Michigan 

"Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre document what remains of a once-great city."

VIA

Puritans Drool

2012-02-08T13:29:00.000-08:00

I've been ranting a lot lately. Last week, it was conglomeration of dance mixed with the Puritans, sexuality and dudes that hit on me, because I'm a dancer. The result was this paper I wrote for my Aesthetics and Criticism class. Ta-da:

         As akid, there was a certain type of sexy thrill I would get when looking throughthe dictionary for naughty words. What really happened was I would flip throughthe ‘S’ section of the dictionary till I hit the word ‘sex’, and, with pulsesracing, immediately slam the book without actually reading anything. Thiswas the same story with any anatomy books from my mother’s nursing school days. I would get right up to the edge of actually understanding the somethingabout the body, I’d freak out, then I’d feel bad about it for the rest of my 12year old existence, hoping nobody saw and nobody told my mom. What is itabout the body that makes people flinch when having it right in front of theirfaces? This aversion has bled directly into my chosen art form: dance. After I was more immersed in the world of dance, I was able to forget myearlier repulsion/fascination of my human-ness, and embrace it through my workwith dance. But to those who aren’t as lucky asI, the aversion carries on, and the body, sexuality, and dance are lumpedtogether on the old-timey wanted poster. ‘These things are threatening. These things are alien. These things are wanted dead or… well, would wehave to touch those things to kill them off? Then no…. just ignore them.’This is the general view of anything we do not understand.
          Why is dance threatening? Dance, to those uninvolved in the art form, issurrounded by a cloak of “What the hell was that?” and peppered generously withstigma. There is a fear that all God-fearing, red-blooded,dyed-in-the-wool-American laymen (or women) have of the body, of dance, and ofusing the body to dance. This often leads to questions such as “You’re inschool for dance? What are you going to do with that?” Thequestion sounds innocent enough, but there behind the question seethes anexcess of judgment. Of course after this initial question come the peanutgallery types with more questions/statements: “You’re in school for dance, huh?That sounds… fun”, or (my favorite) “You’re a dancer? Are you… ah…flexible?” Yes, I am a dancer, no I will not immediately have sex withyou, just because I’m A. flexible, B. going to school for dance basically ispole dancing for loose change, or C. a ginormous floozy, because you KNOW thatdancer’s aren’t smart enough to: get a real degree/understand that your BMW wasgiven to you by your daddy/not end all their sentences like question (I call itvalley-girl inflection disease). Plus, you lost your virginity to your highschool cheerleader girlfriend… great story, guy. I’ll jump off my soapboxnow, but when you think back to all the comments, all the snap judgments, andevery single joke and innuendo thrown at you because you are a dancer, you’llsee that this happens, not just because you live on fraternity row, but becauseof the history behind America’s view of the body, sexuality, and dance.
         Ihave a pet theory that I often pull out at social gatherings and perform partytricks with, which I use to explain the short sightedness of Americans inregards to art and, most specifically, dance. Ah, the noble and bravePuritans (I love their buckled shoes and ability to communicate with Squantoabout how to best plant corn. No wait, that was the Pilgrims. Now myancestors from the Mayflower are rolling in their graves.) These severeand austere people founded this country as a way to escape religiouspersecution.   President Howard Taft best expressed the dark side ofthis noble grasp at freedom when he stated, “The Puritans came to this countryto establish freedom of their religion, not the freedom of anybody else'sreligion." The Puritans were a modest and hardworking people, whohated everything fun, especially anything that had to do with body that wasn’tspecifically mentioned in the Bible. The founder of Puritan ethics, JohnCalvin, prohibited a great many very frivolous and very fun amusements such assmiling and laughing (am I exaggerating? Yes and no. According to some storiesI fell upon in my research a man was imprisoned for smiling during a baptism),and first among them was dancing. Sex researcher Aileen Goodson, Ph.D,stated that the Puritans were a religion that “considered the human body asinherently impure and depraved” and that they "had neither the time northe inclination for frivolity. Their body guilt and shame became the law of theland, and this law was even more extreme in the United States than overseas." Galatians 5:21 says “those engaging in "revel-lings" shall notinherit the kingdom of God.” Apparently, these people took themselvesvery seriously. Any slip into frivolity was a step away from God. GeorgeH. Smith specified: "Throughout its history, Christianity has beensteadfastly not only anti-pleasure but pro-suffering… The puritan era wassimply an extreme manifestation of what amounts to a deep-seated suspicion ofpleasure of any sort. While sexual pleasures were the chief source ofcondemnation, the pleasure inhibition in Christianity was generalized to relateto many other areas."
          The American spirit and mindset is rooted in the Puritan ideals and ethics. Yes, being American means we are a hard working, independent andegalitarian, but it also means that we are scared to death of the body and it’scapabilities. The body has had to overcome a great deal to be loved, andas far as I can see, we still have a far way to go. There is noseparating ourselves from our bodies, no living as a brain in a glass jar on ashelf. Because it is it imperfect, and because it is natural andunconquered, we continue to loathe the ‘natural man’. Dance as an art form isalso natural and unconquered, but most of all misunderstood, thus loathedbecause we don’t understand it perfectly. Maybe it’s not simply loathed,but it is misunderstood, even looked down on: “You’re a dance major? Oh,what are you going to do with that?” We don’t understand dance because wehaven’t yet had time enough away from the roots of our Puritan ancestry tospend time loving it, seeing it, or experiencing it. And so the dancecontinues to loom in the dark, threatening passersby. I for one am allabout getting it more out into the sunshine for some fresh air. Afterthat, let’s flip through the dictionary, see those naughty words, and stopflinching. No one is going to tell your mom.

(P.S. I sourced my historical info and quotes from this Humanism Site, by Joseph C. Sommer.)

Suffering

2012-02-03T19:20:00.000-08:00

In school we get asked a couple billion questions. This was one of them. As you can see, sometimes I get bored in school:

‘What is thepurpose of suffering? Is arttransformative or palliative in the face of suffering?’

Friedrich Nietzsche said, “To live is to suffer; tosurvive is to find some meaning in the suffering.” I believe that being alive and undergoing sufferingare two pretty close bed-fellows, but lose the big trophy when it comes to 3^rdgrade “Twin Day” (I remember this if you do). The two, life and suffering, justaren’t synonymous. I personally believe thatI was not born to only and mainly suffer. I do not live my life as if this timealive is just a gigantic Band-Aid that I have to slowly and painstakinglyremove. I certainly do not plan on dyingin any sufferable way, most certainly not in anguish (not that I can tell thefuture, only that I do not think plans on dying whilst suffering, or in anyparticular way for that matter… unless, of course, they’re part of a suicidecult, special friends with Dr. Kevorkian, or seriously need to think about changing the pathway of theirdownward spiral). For me, life wascreated to find joy, and to take my scraps, bumps, and bruises, maybe nothappily, but at least with the knowledge that suffering was put in my way for areason: to help me recognize joy.

I know that Iwas born to really live my life. Live, as in live-live, the type of living Ihave felt when running out-of-control-fast down a hill, when I am on stageperforming for the up-turned faces of a enraptured audience, when I ambreathing in deep the cold air that ices my nose as I glide up the ski lift,and when I have whole-heartedly fallen in love (every single g.d. time I’vedone it). To me, suffering is anafterthought. It is something I haveendured, but am not at the moment involved with on a large scale. Unless I am currently wrapped up in thethroes of suffering(feeling: agony, torment, torture, pain, or distress in any way that would leadto A. sighing with gusto, B. intensiveand angst-ridden journal writing, C. about a billion used Kleenex acting likemy new, thought slightly sticky, carpet, D. worst case scenario: full emotionalbreakdown requiring healthy amount of medication and an unhealthy dosage ofchocolate), Itake suffering in stride, thinking of it only in passing, like an old friendwho’s last name escapes me. But I knowthat it is there, and when I next experience something hard I know that I canchoose how it will affect me. The authorChuck Palahniuk said it best: “Ijust don't want to die without a few scars.” To me, Palhnuik has recognized the need to go through the refineryfires, to be burnt and ruined, only to come out of it changed into what youhope is a wiser, smarter, and more understanding individual. Will your scars, your suffering, refine youand shine you into a more beautiful person, and help you recognize true joy andlife, or will suffering it take its toll and drag you down to its murky depths tochain you in your personal hell?

In the faceof suffering, is art transformative or palliative? Do I create art in the wake of my sufferingto change the emotion or do I do this to calm me? Or does the very viewing, listening, and/oroverall partaking of art change or salve my emotion? I have had a few experiences when I have beenlistening to music, and there it is, right on the tip of my eardrums, a song, averse, a chord that will rip through me and define the exact emotion that I amfeeling at that moment. In thoseinstances I have felt relief, as if now I know for certain that some has feltwhat I feel, like someone out there knows.I feel this validation, I can savor it and more clearly define it through thatsong, and in a way it helps me feel better. These instances are a lucky few, and I am bound to treasure them andremember them, but I can and do find it in similar ways through my overallpartaking of the arts, though perhaps to a lessened degree. Seeing other’s renditions of emotions, inparticular the more deep and passionate emotions, helps me make connections toothers, and round out my overall understanding of human nature. Art is both transformative and palliative. Whetheryou are creating art or surrounding yourself with art, it has the capacity toboth soothe you, and change you. Theemotion, whether it is sorrow or other, can be morphed by the aesthetic experience,shedding light where light was dim, and throw shades over the parts you don’tneed any longer. A human needs art tounderstand the depth of other’s humanity, to more clearly define theirknowledge of human emotion. You need artto humanize yourself.

Forsooth...

2012-02-03T19:07:00.000-08:00

But really... he was.

VIA

Recette pour un cake d'amour

2012-01-30T12:03:00.001-08:00

VIA

Some more Fall photos, Eyes Lips Eyes and Co.

2012-01-24T11:56:00.000-08:00

Dear CA friends,

Come back and visit me! I miss my you my people, my friends.This completely includes (but is not limited to) David Eff, Marcello, and the Eyes Lips Eyes (formerly The Elizabethan Report) fellows.

Last time I got to hang out with all of the above-listed-friends I was at a Eyes Lips Eyes show at the Velour, a music venue in Provo - like Chuckie Cheese, a place where a kid could be a kid (!), Velour is a place where a kid could put-on-a-pair-of-skinnies-and-a-t-shirt-with-the-arms-ripped-off could feel-comfortable-in-their-androgynous-haircut and also feel like kid (but hipper). But it's also a place where a kid could go and listen to some amazing music... so I am there often and so should you be... just, please, nix the no-arms-t-shirt. Your skinny arms need to see the sun.

But I digress...

Pre-show lounging with David Eff, Jessica P, and myself.

All the cool kids lounge and grimace simultaneously.

I'm probably thinking about pop punk here.
Most specifically Fall Out Boy.
That one was for Jackie.

Marcello making time with the LADIES. Though I think one of those girls was engaged. Probably.

Eyes Lips Eye put on a smashing good show. I danced till someone chastised me for dancing in the middle of a family buffet/diner. Then I went to the show and danced some more. I also shadowed (meaning stood next to and generally peppered with questions) the great Marcello Ambriz (check out his blog MJA Photography) snapped a couple great photos of the show.

Rabid fans. Those girls mean business...

...and this boy. Yow.

Real Dead.

2012-01-24T10:18:00.000-08:00

This is another LAST FALL type blog post. My friend Ben made a short film for the Cinematography class last semester. It was about a zombie take-over of the Marriott Center for Dance, because obviously, Zombies just want to groove. 16mm film + broken camera = awesome fluttering action on the developed film. This effect that wasn't REALLY wanted, but in a zombie movie, the fluttering made the film look like some sort of kick shin apocalyptic documentary.

Getting Eowyn into character.

Happy almost un-dead Mike.

A star is born...?

The un-dead take on anime.

Love them.

There goes my last chance to run for office.

I should teach girls how to look (soooo) good for the camera.

Personally, I think I've never looked better.

sheena was a punk rocker

2012-01-18T11:26:00.000-08:00

 Punk Rock Kitties.

(via)

They will beat you up... and then cuddle you.

Naturally.

Moonrise Kingdom

2012-01-17T16:06:00.000-08:00

I have this affinity with Wes Anderson films.
What is everyone's favorite?

I am counting the days till it May 25th.

Moonrise Kingdom Trailer from Jason Weinberger on Vimeo.

Way back in October... there was a holiday.

2012-01-15T14:49:00.000-08:00

My husband made, YES MADE, me a kick-shin Rogue (from the X-Men).

Yes, he went as Gambit.

We're in love. What can I say?

Oh most diligent of men, your sewing skills are both sexy and completely beyond my own capabilities, though I can sew on a mean button. Literally mean. Those thing come with fangs, I swear).

Look out Comic Con 2012!

Pattern Making

Fabric Annihilation

Boy got skillz. I immediately regret typing that out.

After all that...

how did I not get a photo of myself?

Anyone capture this? Maybe Jessica???

Pwease?

Sexy Gambit.

Bob Dylan

Some Vegetable

Madame Squelette

Love.

No costume... so... ballooning enthusiast.

Best fairytale ever.

Bolex 16mm

2012-01-15T14:10:00.000-08:00

Last semester I took a cinematography class and learned how to film on a Bolex 16mm camera, as part of the requirements for the Screen Dance certification. I really enjoyed learning to film movies on actual film, as well as learning to edit linearly with razors and tape. I worked on the same station ET was edited on... or so the film department legend goes.

My film is due at the end of this month... so cross your fingers that I kick my butt into gear and get it finished up. I also have a couple rolls of film that I need to digitize and show off. I'll tie a bow around my finger.

I love/d the vintage look to the Bolex, don't you? Old cameras look so industrial, like they mean business (did someone say steam punk?). Here's a few of my favorite pics from the camera photo shoot that I help in my living room in the middle of the night. I love me some insomnia.

This last photo is not my favorite, but it really shows the details of the camera.
Pretty cool, hm?

2012-01-11T13:31:00.001-08:00

If you liked it...

2012-01-06T14:53:00.000-08:00

I love huge bizarre finger-wear. I'm talking about rings, people.

My ring finger is a tiny 5 and a quarter (tosses hair), so I have a hard time finding the right size rings for my delicate hands (double hair toss). So, you know, know that you have my measurements (whirlwind of hair tossing... Dashboard songs are wrote about this moment).

Just another one of my lists. This time, of ring pretties:

Who doesn't love, and I mean lovelove, vintage rings? via

I may be wrong about the ring...

but I am sure the pretty-darn-close-to-matching bracelet is by Iwona Ludy Design.

I have been wear a very similar eyeball ring lately. Teenagers want to be me. Children fear me.

via

Finger Armor via

Tiny Jeweled Owl via

MIRTA Jewelry via

Spell it out. via

Loved via

Always Ring via

Wah. I want want this but I only have a photos sans creator/store link.

Humerus? Femur? I just know I want it. via

Crayon Rings.

VIA

"A woman’s “memorial poesy ring” from 1592,

made of gold and rock crystal.

On the ring’s inner surface is inscribed,

“The cruel seas, remember, took him in November.” "

When I die, I am forcing Chris to make one of these for the entire family. I just want to keep everyone extremely sad. You know... because I'm extremely extremely important.

Human Bone Wedding Rings

Disgusting or beautiful?

I tried to convince husband this was the route we should take when talking wedding rings. These rings were made by harvesting bone cells from each of the couple's jawbones.

"Using bioglass, a special bioactive ceramic which mimics the structure of bone material, researchers are growing rings made out of the couples' bone." To read more, click here.

Victorian Skull Ring via

Buenos Aires based artist Celina Saubidet via

Wicked sweet hand cuff. via

The Messenger Ring by Bloodmilk

Lulu Frost CODE ring. I want a lucky number 7.

Pamela Love. Oh... just some phases of the moon.

oui via

Remember the milk and eggs. via

Karen Walker Mini Skull Ring

Clever 18K gold and enamel chinese zodiac rings and pendants from Solange Azagury-Partidge.

1984 is a rat. Joy.

Hands via

Projector Ring via

"In a darkened room, light from a candle or LED passes through the ring to project a series of portraits. A selection of miniature slides were made of different family portraits and inserted into the edge of the ring for projection."

Obsidian Tomb Ring by Bloodmilk via

Sterling Victorian Watch Rings by Bloodmilk

Matryoshka Ring

The Natasha Ring from nOir Jewelry.

Magnetic Promise Rings

V-Day is coming up pretty soon? Hmm.

Trippin.

2012-01-05T12:11:00.000-08:00

I'm still cleaning out 2 year old photos from my tiny matryoshka-shaped flash drive. There are gems to be found on there. Yesterday's post and... well... I found these photos from a winter road trip I took to LA, CA with three of my very favorite people and best friends, Jackie Supriseme (WHERE IS YOUR BLOG??), and the dynamic duo: Rachel, and Jordan of the Lewis n' Clark gang. I posted the iPhone photos of this trip in a relatively timely manner (a year late... give or take a couple months), but these were like the lost underscore to the trip. The bread to my creamery fresh butter. The pure whiteness to my rice(the unhealthy, good tasting type). Looking through them, I remember guessing that still didn't understand my camera (I forget it had a flash, annnnnnd I used a telephoto lens instead of a normal sized one. Yeah.) but I had to keep clicking anyway.

Stalker photos of Rachel in the front seat.

She makes a good stalkee.

LA gallery stroll snobbery

I look like a Tim Burton character. Get some sun, you ghoul. You go, ghoul!

Oh. Hey Evan. HAI EVAN. Appropriate?

Another example of how Jordan makes friends with everyone.

(And look.... auras! I wasn't kidding about the flash.)

That one dude's thrifty/artsy boutique...

... where we dueled to the death.

Gate crashing some punk/goth/skunk haired girl's circus themed mega birthday party.

It was like 68 scary clowns threw up in an empty warehouse.

Happy Birthday, darling.

Belly dancers look at you with such intense and passionate eyes. Which is why the crowd scattered before her. The gyrating will get you. Oh, it will get you.

Oh Rachel. Oh Evan. I really do miss you beautiful people.

OHMYGOSHjustsnowalready.

2012-01-04T13:05:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time, Christmas 2009, Santa brought me a very nice camera.

So of course, I spent the regulated amount of time taking photos of myself in the mirror.

We all go through this phase.

Winter 2009-2010 was glorious. Do you remember snow? SNOW.

Do you remember wearing flats even when there was snow?

Smart girl.

Look how cold these feet were/are. They look like orphan feet. The kind of orphan feet attached to The Little Match Girl.

I seriously need to start taking more pictures.

Goodbye Tree

2012-01-03T16:12:00.000-08:00

Today I have decided to finally take down my Christmas tree. It makes me sad that the holidays are over and... wait... what? What are all these bright red and pink decorations doing up at the grocery store? Why are there hearts and flying naked babies littered across every single aisle? What is with this fluffy army of teddy bears, holding hearts emblazoned with romantic catch-phrases? Forget the holiday depression. I suddenly feel a great pressure to do monstrous things with poster-board and glitter...

Goodbye Christmas. Hello Prepare-For-Valentines season.

2012-01-02T22:20:00.000-08:00

Thank you, Charles.

2012-01-02T22:18:00.000-08:00

New Years Eve.

This was Jessica, Chidsey, Chris, and Me.

I'm going to remember this.

"You know, for the kids."

2012-01-01T01:10:00.000-08:00

THIS WEBSITE IS ROCKING MY WORLD: Click Me.

I love re-finding all my old favorite books from my childhood.
Par exemple:

These make up my new wish list.

Happy Happy.

2012-01-01T00:42:00.000-08:00

This was my New Years kiss:

It's on the top of my list of favorite kisses.

I love you husband.

Cheers.

You're Welcome.

2011-12-26T16:56:00.000-08:00

This comic illustrates what I would give to all my friends, if I had the keen holiday know-how.

I love you, Kate Beaton. Thank you for the latest Hark A Vagrant. Yea verily, thank you for ever single HAV comic (esp the Nancy Drew and the Edward Gorey book cover comics). It has filled my year with sarcastic literary and historical laughter. Dear friends, Romans, and countrymen... do yourself a favor and start worship this online comic immediately.

And to all a good night.

2011-12-25T17:20:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas.

via

photo by Abby Powell

A Christmas Shopper, c. 1914 (via NYPL Digital Gallery)

photo by Abby Powell

via

Photo by Diane Arbus

via

Norma Shearer under the mistletoe.

I love this holiday.

Things that I love: EYELINER

2011-12-23T11:56:00.000-08:00

I think I am just meant to be a Drape.
I can't get over loving the Cat-Eye liner. It's ingrained.

I just found this EXTREMELY helpful Cat Eye how-to (and since I need a place to access it easily, voilà new favorite things post).

How to Be a Girl: Cat Eyes By Magic! from The Hairpin on Vimeo.

The Christmas Story.

2011-12-16T13:08:00.000-08:00

I just watched this short film posted on my friend Meg's blog, from St Paul's Arts and Media. It has directly channeled me into the holiday spirit... which was precisely what my broken down, post-finals, pre-packing-for the-cross-country-travel, stressed filled self needed. A spearmint flavored breath of fresh holiday air. Christmas is almost here. We get to celebrate the birth of our Savior.

We have been so blessed. I am grateful to have had this reminder, at exactly the right time.

My favorite character is the star. The little hands flapping up and down were/are the most endearing gesture I have ever seen. But the entire cast made me clap my hands and bounce up and down in my seat, which I believe is the cuddly side to my Mother Bear instincts, which kick in whenever I'm around or see pictures of cute kids or baby animals.

Best.

2011-12-09T00:34:00.001-08:00

Happy Endings is possibly the funniest show I ever just started watching 40 minutes ago.

Lace me up.

2011-12-02T12:17:00.001-08:00

Every year, after winter/Christmas/holidays are over, I always have a feeling of slight regret. I never really gave myself a chance to enjoy that time of year. Forget skiing, sledding, drinking hot cocoa by a fire while listening to carols played by hammer dulcimer, making snow angels, and ice skating. I simply... got busy. I had to work. I never had the money. Etc.  I completely got stuck in a pattern of being a "grown up". This is my vow, as the holidays are in full swing: I WILL ENJOY MY WINTER. Starting with the ice skating. As soon as this semester is over (DEC 9 = LAST DAY OF CLASSES. WOOT.) I am going to the Gallivan Center outdoor ice skating rink, and shooshing around till i can't feel my toes.

Who's with me?

Photo booth darlings.

2011-11-30T23:25:00.001-08:00

Confession: I haven't gone through any of my wedding photos yet. I'm just so terribly busy and important, and my life so colorful and thrilling AND BUSY AND IMPORTANT... didn't I ever mention how utterly absolutely fabulous I am? Well... I guess time has gotten away from me. I started the photo-looking process by going through all the photo booth photos. And voilà! New facebook album (you know... for the kids) and one belated wedding blog post à la Claire.

The winners of the "Blue Ribbon/State Semi-Finalist/Claire likes these photos a lot" Competition:

Let's get a time machine to the 1950's. Mostly to point and laugh at someone.

2011-11-29T12:09:00.001-08:00

I'm always hoped someone would take the initiative to design pond-diorama shoes. Oh, you'll see it, come 1:25 in the following video:

<p>&amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;S&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;gt;</p>

Holiday Parties

2011-11-28T22:06:00.001-08:00

Holiday parties used to be the bane of my adolescences.

Now that I'm the very picture of maturity (snort), I look forward to them. Maybe it's because I have someone to dress the same as, make triple chocolate brownies with, and hide in the basement with (reading/drawing) during the tedious party points (mostly the point after eating/before dessert when people bring out camcorders and try to make the Next Great Holiday TV Special).

Real cool.

2011-11-28T00:10:00.001-08:00

Be cool, boy.

Amen, brother.

2011-11-26T23:48:00.001-08:00

Husband and I just picked up a kick-shin TV from our foray into day-after-Thanksgiving shopping, or, in lay-man's terms, BLACK FRIDAY. I got a lot of flack from BLACK FRIDAY naysayers. In response to the non-believers (shun the non-believers, shuuuuun), I have just found this little rant online on tumblr (my second blogging love). It completely says everything I could want to say and more, but a lot meaner and with more expletives than I normally would... Take it away, Jay Gabler:

I am not at a store right now. I have not been at a store at any time today, and I do not intend to visit any store today—except maybe for a liquor store. But good grief, people, you need to SHUT THE HELL UP with your snooty comments/tweets/posts about how stupid Black Friday is. Here’s why:
It’s boring. There are millions of people complaining today about how stupid Black Friday is, and anyone who’s listening to/following you has probably correctly guessed how you feel about it. Do you really need to jump on the bandwagon? Is there really that much danger that anyone might think you’ve been eagerly anticipating this day for months?
It’s classist. With planning, it’s possible to easily save hundreds of dollars via Black Friday specials. For a lot of families, that’s a lot of money. Of course there are many people who shop on Black Friday purely for fun, but it seems awfully privileged to sit there and scorn people who are out taking advantage of very low prices on common household goods. I actually saw a retweet of this, shortly after midnight: “If we would just drop bombs on all the Wal-Marts across the country right now, the crime rate would go down 75%.”
The ridiculousness is part of the point. Generalizing about Black Friday shoppers by saying they’re just out for deals on things they don’t need reflects a lack of imagination about why people do what they do. Of course it’s ridiculous to make a line around the block to get into Target at midnight on a Thursday night; that’s a big part of the point. Families and friends go out and make a party of Black Friday shopping; they bring fortification and make battle plans and probably have a really great time at it. What’s more ridiculous: having fun and getting great deals, or sitting at home scowling and complaining about people you don’t even know doing what they want to do and not hurting you or anyone else?
Welcome to the human race. You know what? Millions and millions of people every day do a lot of shit that’s a lot stupider than shopping on Black Friday. If you have a specific complaint about a specific shopper who trampled your kitten, fine. If you have a substantive observation about the dangers of unregulated markets, go for it. But if you’re just going to harumph about people being dumb, go stick your head in the oven with the turkey. We’re human beings, and this is how we roll.

- Jay Gabler

Pleased to meat You, by Sergio Mora.

My favorite Thanksgiving memory.

2011-11-24T23:57:00.000-08:00

TulleBows. Lace. Ruffles.

2011-11-21T23:53:00.001-08:00

Did someone say soiree?

Oh that was me.

Let's get dressed up.

Basil Soda Haute Couture Spring 2011 / Peut être Magazine #1 2011

via

Kristin's Limited Edition Glamour Dress

Oscar de la Renta

Anna Miminoshvili

CATVERTISING.

2011-11-20T19:01:00.001-08:00

"What could cat videos do for your business?"

via Best Roof Talk Ever

HANDS OFF.

2011-11-17T13:01:00.001-08:00

It's tragic that girls ruin their faces by whatever daily beauty routine they perform. I can't even begin to tell you how mad my blessed dermatologist is at 98% of girl population for their bad primping habits.

Here is my advice to everyone, girl, boys, girlboys, etc. STOP TOUCHING YOUR FACE. Just stop. Thanks. You'll stop spreading bacteria from your hands to your face, and ultimately your skin will clear up. Getting off my high horse now. Buuuut: Here. Read this. Do it.
I'm glad someone wrote a straight forward get-yo-shiz-together-ladies-stop-over-plucking type piece that I could subtly throw at people.

The Cool Club

2011-11-17T12:52:00.001-08:00

via

Look at these babes.
A little grey around the edges.. but babes, nonetheless.

I never thought...

2011-11-16T14:41:00.001-08:00

Don't be a robot... watch this and help promote domestic violence awareness.

I never thought a PSA would make me as tense and sad as this did (looks like I'm becoming less a robot and more an actual person).

Guest Teachers = soliloquy time

2011-11-07T22:56:00.000-08:00

I take a 2 hour dance technique class ever week day: ballet - Monday and Wednesday, modern - Tues, Thurs, Friday. I love me some technique class... in fact, it's my favorite class, and by far the hardest part about grad school. It wears my bones to dust and my mind to a fine pulp. I am not bored with class, in the least. Just MYSELF in class. My body, my lines, my tights, the Lycra the spandex and plastic that holds me together... all in plain view under the perfect lighting of the mirrored dance room. It is hard to do this, to put oneself under such scrutiny every damn day. I hate myself but I love myself but I hate myself... etc etc... alas and alack.

But, today felt different. We had an amazing guest teacher, Desmond Richardson,

Artistic Director/Co.Founder/Artist-in-Residence of a company based in NYC, Complexions Contemporary Ballet.

This gent was golden inspiration. He made us take the barre away and just start moving. Pure movement and unadulterated breathing and life and freedom. Ugh, I sound like a new-age needlepoint. But my point is this: I didn't stop to worry about myself or my body, or any of the other detailed issues that I usually let get in my way during class time. Today, I was gettin' busy on the dance floor... but not in the 'get it, gurrrl' kind of way... but kinda also like that too. Am I making sense? I was getting busy by pushing myself and trying to really dwell inside this class, but also I gave myself the freedom to relax and mess up, and move like moving was still fun. All things Desmond Richardson kept reminding us today in class. Like I said, this man was a brilliant teacher... salve for my boredom, chicken soup for my soul.

Occasionally, I would catch my eye in the mirror, and my refection would arch an eyebrow as if to say, "Have you forgotten all about me already? Why aren't you freaking out? Where is thy furrowed brow and hunched of back? You don't get enough protein! Think about your metabolism! Think about your triceps! Think about the babies in Africa with flies on their faces!" My refection was trying really there at the end. I'll give it props for dropping the Olde English while it was still ahead. But moments of distraction fell away easily, and, OH, I danced.

Check out Complexions Contemporary Ballet THIS Tuesday evening (TOMORROW) at Kingsbury Hall... or check them out on the web: Complexions Contemporary Ballet

Everything Is Mud. Everything Is Gone.

2011-11-06T21:07:00.000-08:00

Everything is boring.

My husband is out of town for 8 days.

I "borrowed" a shake weight from my mom's house that I've used once then shoved under the bed.

I have watched it snow on stage at least 8 times the past two weekends.

My life looks bleak like a Russian folk tale.

Someone shake me till I wake up.

All Hallows and the end to the Monster Mash

2011-10-31T00:42:00.000-07:00

You get a pumpkin! And YOU get a pumpkin! AND YOU GET A PUMPKIN!

Last night, after Chris and I carved pumpkins with his side of the family, we took the spare pumpkins over to my mom's house to help celebrate my sister Kate's birthday (HALLOWEEN BABY... lucky).

Handing out pumpkins felt like a special episode of Oprah.

Happy Halloween my pretties, my ghouls, and my fiends.

I will miss you, October.

Monster Mash #30 Vampire Weekend

2011-10-30T22:33:00.000-07:00

I love Vampire lore.

Gory fairy tales, to rival Grimm.

This post is probably a billion photos long, but its my love letter to Vampires, and a swan song to the month of October.

Monster Mash #29 Vampire Weekend

2011-10-29T09:45:00.000-07:00

Do you remember when Vampires weren't sparkly, didn't have great hair or a vast amount of jackets, and would never gal pal with a mortal unless it was to suck some blood?

Ohhhh the good old days.

Here's to you, Dracula.

Béla Lugosi could take on Robert Pattinson any day.

Monster Mash #28

2011-10-28T21:26:00.001-07:00

Monster Mash #27

2011-10-27T11:57:00.000-07:00

Universal Studios

Classic Monsters

1931 - 1941

via

Frankenstein (1931)

The Wolfman (1941)

The Mummy (1932)

The Invisible Man(1933)

Dracula (1931)

Frankenstein (1931), Dracula (1931), The Mummy (1932), The Invisible Man(1933), and The Wolfman (1941)

Monster Mash #26

2011-10-26T12:39:00.000-07:00

via

Monster Mash #25

2011-10-25T21:41:00.000-07:00

I've been singing 'Werewolf Bar Mitzvah' in my head on repeat.

Since that "song" is only about two lines long, you can probably guess how crazy it's actually made me.

via

FREE ART: One of those Prize giveaway things...

2011-10-24T14:07:00.000-07:00

Go to my main squeeze's blog. http://hayesart.blogspot.com/

Comment on the post that includes this photo:

(from October 21... right below the Voldemort post!)

WIN a drawing of YOU or whoever/whatever you may want.

Pre-e-e-e-etty great deal, if you ask me.

FREE ART. Get that stunning portrait of yourself (on a rearing stallion, banner in hand, lions chewing on gazelles in the background, whatevs), that you have always wanted!!!

Monster Mash #24

2011-10-24T13:57:00.000-07:00

Death really needs a hobby.

Poor baby needs to take a vacation.

Which is why I liked this piece of artwork... Death seemingly playing polo.

He's so preppy.

‘To Rip’ by Matheus Lopes

Monster Mash #23 Vampire Weekend

2011-10-23T13:52:00.000-07:00

SEXY LADY VAMPIRE DAY.

What respectable hot blood American boy hasn't fantasied about being trapped in Dracula's castle with a couple of these hottie monsters?

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Photo: Mariacarla Boscono in Dazed & Confused.

Monster Mash #22 Vampire Weekend

2011-10-22T12:45:00.000-07:00

"Max Schreck relaxing between takes & creeping everyone out on the set of Nosferatu, A Symphony of Horror "

"During the filming of Nosferatu, Schreck reportedly stayed in character at all times, even when the cameras weren’t rolling, and the cast and crew never saw him out of full makeup and costume. While this immersive approach to acting is commonplace now, it was unusual back then and his appearance & behavior led to wild rumors that Schreck actually was a vampire. If this photo is indicative of Schreck’s demeanor around the set of Nosferatu, the crew’s wariness was entirely understandable."

-via Old Hollywood

photos and gifs via: HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE and HERE

Monster Mash #21

2011-10-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

Pretty sure this guy was a monster.

Monster Mash #20

2011-10-20T20:03:00.000-07:00

via KuKula

This is a tale about my childhood, but more about my Aunt Dale

2011-10-19T22:53:00.000-07:00

The last fifteen minutes just made me disappear and reappear, blink in and out. My substance became light, but not like a cloud. More like ghost. How can something so beautiful be so devastating? I just received word that my Great Aunt Dale passed away this afternoon. I read the news, closed the page, and sat on in stillness, simply calling back all the memories I have of visiting my Aunt Dale, and why she was so magical and wonderful and every nice thing to me.

Every year of my childhood (then troubling tweens, and finally bad-haired-angst-filled teens) up till the year my Aunt became to sick too host large parties, too sick live alone, my entire wonderfully massive extended family spent a weekend in July at my Aunt Dale's home in Star Valley, Wyoming. Cousins, second cousins, third-forth-fifth cousins, aunts, uncles, boyfriends, neighbors, pets, hot dogs... EVERYONE pulled into dodge and set up camp. Star Valley is a small town in what always felt to be the middle of nowhere. Far away from friends, TV, the computer (remember when the internet came to town and enraptured everyone into staying at home), this small town often made us sigh from ennui... until we'd snap out of it and find cousins to play tag with, ancient comic books to peruse, and fireworks to set off in the road with the "older" cousins. We loved Aunt Dale's. Loved and love. Each memory is precious to me, to us.

One of my earliest memories is of my sisters and I collecting change in old baby food and mason jars in order to buy candy at Aunt Dale's post office, a bewitching side room, which later became a bright pink room, home to dolls with curly hair and big eyes, and stuffed animals of every genus and species. Porcelain figurines? Probably.

At night we'd sleep outside in tents. Gold stars to those old enough to remember the Native American-esq tepee, and a quidditch world cup to those who actually slept in it.
I remember swiftly paddling a canoe down a skinny canal that bordered the back field of my Aunt Dale's yard. We'd fly with grace through the water, and would reach out to get our hands wet, count water skeeters, and to pull up the long weeds on the bank. This all, of course fed into my wildest dreams of being Sacajawea or other Indian Princess. By the time I would finish coming up with an appropriate Indian Princess name, always always always, we'd run head long into the point where the canal slipped through a gate/fence, which was, at the time, the scariest non-threatening barricade in the entire world, and have to precariously turn 180 degrees in our seats, to make the trip back upstream. This usually came with no little amount of panic, and bizarre feats of balance, until who ever claimed leadership of the voyage turned on the bossy mouth and sorted us out right. Then we make the slow, sometimes whining, trudge back up that canal, because we would forget what a current does.

I remember the hay rides, where we'd laugh while aiming stones at streams and ponds shrieking when we'd hit our mark, booing when we'd just kick up foliage and dust. The older we grew the larger and larger the stones, an impressive display of strength, indeed. This was our coming of age.

I remember my Aunt welcoming the entire lot of us, with open arms, giving a reason to have a tradition to look forward to every year. This woman brought my family together, and I wish with all my heart we still carried these traditions on. Summer rolls around, and it's just not the same without a weekend running like crazies into the sun.

(picture by William Edmonds)

(Directly after getting the news of my aunt's passing, I stumbled upon an article about an 90 old couple, married for 72 years, who also died today. They traveled on within 70 minutes of the other, holding hands, the ambition of every young lover. All I could think about after hearing this was, why are all the good ones going? Aren't they all too young to leave? Dear God, please look after those who love so greatly, who give so generously. We desperately need them... but just maybe you need them a little more.)

Monster Mash #19

2011-10-19T11:55:00.000-07:00

Maybe you never saw "Where The Wild Things Are"... maybe you did see it and thought it lacked a substantial plot. Maybe you saw it, loved it, and was Max for Halloween that year, and wore that costume to sleep in till the feet wore out and the zipper broke. Despite loving it or hating it, didn't everyone fall in love with these monsters. So cuddly. So violent. Just like all our favorite people.

via here & here

Monster Mash #18

2011-10-18T22:56:00.000-07:00

"There's fungus among us!" - via

Birthday snow

2011-10-17T22:08:00.000-07:00

A billion and five years ago, meaning two-or-maybe-it-was-three, my beautiful friends Jessica P. made me a birthday mixtape. I dusted it off to find that it fits like a jigsaw piece into my aging year, Autumn falling into Winter.

Kaki King -

Yellowcake

Life Being What It Is

Saving Days In A Frozen Head

Kathleen Edwards - Old Time Sake

Cat Power - Metal Heart

Jaymay - Snow White

Elliott Smith - Pitseleh

Neko Case - I Wish I Was The Moon

Great Lake Swimmers - Imaginary Bars

Fiona Apple - Extraordinary Machine

Lou Barlow - Home

Broken Social Scene - Backyards

Air - Run

Blonde Redhead - Spring and By Summer

Monster Mash #17

2011-10-17T12:00:00.000-07:00

via my husband, THE Christopher Hayes.

Click here to go scope out his incredible art blog and to follow him immediately. Because it's the cool thing to do. This isn't peer pressure.

Monster Mash #16

2011-10-16T19:56:00.000-07:00

Lord of Ghouls by andy kehoe

30” x 30”
Oil & Acrylic on Wood Panel
2011

Monster Mash #15

2011-10-15T13:58:00.000-07:00

Publicity photo for “The Bride of Frankenstein” - 1935

Monster Mash #14

2011-10-14T14:27:00.000-07:00

Monster Mash #13

2011-10-13T22:39:00.000-07:00

www.friskeemedia.com/joshheilaman

Josh Heilaman. Oku.

Lions, and tigers, and..

2011-10-13T22:34:00.000-07:00

This summer my very loving husband turned the monsters under my bed into something much much MUCH scarier. Much.

My personal boogyman is from the family Ursidae.

It started on a backpacking trip, where I was constantly reminded that we were going to have to hang our food in a tree due to midnight scavengers that would love to munch on our granola, but also would filet our internal organs, and wear our skins like happy winter mittens if given the opportunity. After a couple hours of that sort of romantic type talk keeping time to our trudge up the mountain, I had built up quite the aversion to all things Teddy Ruxpin. Bears were enemy numero uno that night, and I was on my guard... in as much that I stayed up all night fully aware of all furry sounds and monstrous shadows. It was that OR I was experiencing very realistic bear-filled dreams. Dreams that mimicked my camping trip down to what color of nail-polish graced my bleeding disembodied toes. In the middle of the night I shot up, remembering that my lip balm was ginger flavored... a potential bear-lure. I made Chris throw it into the woods, then, finding that the mountain air play havoc on my lips, spent a good chunk of my morning digging through the great outdoors to find where it had landed.

Bears are not to be joked about.

via

Just Susan Sontag wearing a bear suit.

via

Monster Mash #12

2011-10-12T12:36:00.000-07:00

1950'S glass frames

2011-10-11T13:44:00.000-07:00

Who doesn't absolutely love these old fashion videos?

(I would definitely rock the glasses around 1:18. Check it:)

Fat and Beautiful

2011-10-11T13:40:00.001-07:00

Right on, Curvy Broads. Right on.

Monster Mash #11

2011-10-11T00:16:00.000-07:00

Today's monster is the Gorgon Medusa, infamous and ill-fated monster of Greek mythology.

The mere sight of her turned men to stone.

When Perseus smote (which is a lot like cutting, but with a more manly elegance to it) off her head, Pegasus (a winged horse) was born out of her blood. and the future king of Iberia (later Spain and Portugal) was born from her neck. Pretty sure it's because she was pregnant with Poseidon's baby, or something soap opera like that.

Girl's got some baggage. Sooo... she get's her own scary day of remembrance.

via

Jean Le Roux.

Paul Dardé - Eternal Pain, 1913

Unknown Flemish Master

Miss Representation

2011-10-10T15:46:00.000-07:00

Miss Representation 8 min. Trailer 8/23/11 from Miss Representation on Vimeo.

via Gala Darling.

Monster Mash #10

2011-10-10T14:01:00.001-07:00

Dead Astronauts

Arrested!

2011-10-09T19:48:00.000-07:00

Did everyone hear the good news about Arrested Development?

via

I'm in love with whomever created this.

Monster Mash #9

2011-10-09T16:25:00.001-07:00

Human Furby

2011-10-08T16:37:00.000-07:00

photo via 

There is something about fall that makes me want to luxuriously lounge on a white bear skin rug, a la rap video/60's Bond movie. Maybe that is why I bought that white fur coat in Atlanta, GA last Christmas (faux fur... What am I rolling in money? Maybe when I fire 6 of my 15 serving maidens and 12 of my pay-as-you-hang friends, auction the golden unicorn babies, and sell my gall bladder and kidney on the black market I could afford NICE vintage. Plus, I think the guilt would get to me, and I'd end up pouring red paint on myself)  The thing has laid dormant in the back of my closet for an entire year. Time I bust out my faux-pet, and start talking in a faux-French accent. That's what luxury does to me... makes me a complete snob. Be prepared for the snubbing of your life.   

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(I REALLY want a pink fur. I really am a three year old playing dress up constantly.)

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Monster Mash #8

2011-10-08T10:30:00.000-07:00

Octoqueen by Chris Carroll

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Monster Mash #7

2011-10-07T17:01:00.000-07:00

My personal demons have seemingly backed off.

Tragic that they stayed in bed with my mind for so long.

Why do we let things chase us around for so long? Why do we let our skeletons take up space in our storage areas?

Maybe our baggage is cute and matching, so we regret letting it go. 

via John Foster Studios

Monster Mash #6

2011-10-06T15:39:00.001-07:00

Roberto Kusterle

Best idea ever.

2011-10-06T01:56:00.000-07:00

THIS is amazing. Let's start a Star Wars band immediately.

via

Monster Mash #5

2011-10-05T20:28:00.001-07:00

Photo by Tim Walker

Monster Mash #4

2011-10-04T00:26:00.000-07:00

via

I only buy into ads that feature dancers. Sorry.

2011-10-03T22:00:00.000-07:00

Air France - L'Envol from Air France on Vimeo.
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Monster Mash Day #3

2011-10-03T01:09:00.000-07:00

by Vania Zouravliov

Monster Mash Day #2

2011-10-02T13:32:00.000-07:00

Monster Mash Day #1

2011-10-01T10:22:00.000-07:00

Beware.
It's October.
Finally.
This month is my favorite of favorite months. October means Fall is officially here (maybe... have you looked outside lately? What did September think it was? July???). We get to start layering clothes (maybe it's still just swimsuit covers over bikinis -like I said: fake July- but we'll get there). Best of all:

IT'S MONSTER MASH MONTH!

Last year I started the tradition of posting monster pictures daily in celebration of the creepiest and spookiest. It's starting... NOW!

Buster Keaton.

2011-09-30T22:01:00.001-07:00

Buster Keaton.

Handwritten

2011-09-30T20:55:00.001-07:00

Bili Bidjocka interview from Ecriture Infinie on Vimeo.

Just Albert Einstein...

2011-09-28T19:38:00.000-07:00

holding a puppet...

of...

himself.

No biggie.