student show in dalton art gallery

i was super excited to go to the opening of this show, not because somethings that i did were in it, but because i wanted to see the work of my fellow students. i love looking at everything that someone creates because it always has their essence. my roommate has really been an inspiration to me when it comes to art because of the animation she can conjure up on a page or the brilliance that she puts to clay. i was really happy that she came with me because i wanted her to see stuff that i have done; she said she was proud of me and that she honestly only thought i could play soccer; we laughed at this because she’s the artsy one in our relationship and i’m the athletic one and lately we’ve been trying to teach the other what we know about what we a good at and what we love; she’s my yin and i’m her yang, we strive for balance.

i was very impressed with everything i saw and my favorite pieces were the mannequins and the video of the two girls playing in paint. i know that i will have more opportunities in the future at agnes scott to look at other students work and i can’t wait.



i can only imagine how a camera feels…

because quite frankly i’m so tired from just doing a little bit of work on just one picture.

the night before we started our self-portraits: i decided it was time to actually take my paper and cover it in blackness. while i would have loved to have taken a picture of me with  this process, my phone cover is white and all would not have ended well. It took me about 30 minutes to fully cover my paper in darkness, but i still was not satisfied. i could not get the darkness i really wanted and i let the char koal, the toilet paper, and the the gray dusted paper defeat me. (i do not regret this defeat now as it has really helped me with my shading)

the first day of our self-portraits: i was not staring at a blank page for once, but a page covered in darkness. to me this was less intimidating than a blank page because i had already felt a sense of accomplishment.. this feeling went away fast. i started with the whitest white on my face, the ball on my nose; it seemed easy enough – NO. this was actually difficult for me because it determined what size my nose was going to be -it’s still on the big side. after establishing my whitest white, i tried to conquer the nostrils, it turns out nostrils are NOT ROUND. my mind was taking over what i saw in the mirror and by day to i had figured out of to make my nostrils look realistic. i was not dissatisfied with my work on the first day because i had to start somewhere.

the second day of our portraits: before i start talking about this day, i would just like to say how proud i am of myself for once because of how my portrait looked at the end of this day. for some reason i was more focused today and i wanted my face to start to come together. i think it was because after looking around at other people’s portraits i started to think hey if they can do it so can i. i finally conquered my nostrils and they look real, i’m not lying to anybody when they look at my nose – it is exactly how i see them in the mirror. i also believe that i was able to correctly introduce the highlight of the light on my face into the portrait. i even was able to make my nose piercing look true! i cannot even begin to express how happy i am with what i have done with  my portrait at this point.

the weekend before the third day of our portraits: at this point i was still really impressed with what i had accomplished and i really wanted to go to the art studio and conquer more, but we were told not to. all i could do was wait in anticipation for class on tuesday

the third day of our portraits: i came into class happy with what i had already done, but by the time i left i was really frustrated with my portrait. first off i hate looking at myself for two hours – i can only imagine how other people feel. second, proportions although they should be, are not my friend. we do not get along no matter how much i am willing to compromise. my eye was really frustrating to begin to get on paper and my mind was taking over again. almost everyone in the class was starting their lips before their eyes, but i just had to be eager and get to my eyes (because i love them; yes this is narcissistic, but who would not want to draw their favorite feature?). by the en of class, i finally got the size of my eye right, but i still have a lot of work to do. at this point even though i am frustrated, it makes me happy to look at myself and say i’m making you.

Joy Harjo

So, I suck at keeping up with my blog -this is just like every time I tried to keep a diary…

I have to write about Joy Harjo in here because she was such an inspiration to me!

I absolutely loved the Joy Harjo Poetry reading. It was by far my favorite event that I have attended this year at Agnes Scott. When Harjo first stepped up to the microphone in Presser she said, “…this is not a performance this is a gathering.” These nine words really made me connect to her and what she was saying; she did not see herself as any better than anyone else in the room. As a “participant” of this gathering I felt respected because even though I was not singled out for anything, I was still important. I was important because I took part in her gathering and she made me want to pay attention to what she was saying. I did not nod off once during her reading; I was engaged. Harjo also went on to talk about her childhood, which really made me pay attention. She was not afraid of telling strangers about herself because she is so sure of who she is; she was not afraid of being judged. In the past, people that I have listened to speak have left out negative parts of their life because they do not want people to know their past their struggles. It was refreshing to her a true story, one of struggles and of successes – that is still continuing for her. My favorite part of the entire reading was when Harjo talked about how she colored the ghost green in her grammar school class. This made me smile because it shows that even as a child she was not afraid to be different; she knew who she was and she was not going to let her classmates get her to conform to coloring a ghost white. I can really relate to her because I would rather stand-out for being different than just blend in for being normal.