Marijke drew the photo I brought and I absolutely love her rendition of my family. My dad as a young Albert Einstein? Amazing.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Photo Description Project
Marijke drew the photo I brought and I absolutely love her rendition of my family. My dad as a young Albert Einstein? Amazing.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Thinking about Race and Radiolab
I have been thinking a lot about the episode that Radiolab did about race. Some of the ideas that they put forward have just stuck in my head and other things made so little sense that I’ve been turning them over in my mind since I heard them. I still find it hard to believe that people at some point didn’t think race had anything to do with biology. How did they think our skin knew to be whatever color it was? Did they think we looked at our parents when we were born and changed colors like an octopus? Mostly I’ve been thinking about what race has to do with your identity. How much of who you are is decided by what color you are and how much is decided by other people’s reaction to that. Do we act a certain way because we are one color or do we act that way because we KNOW that we are that color?
Growing up in Hawaii, I feel like I have a different perspective on race from a lot of people who were interviewed on the show. My high school was predominately made up of local kids, local being kids who grew up in Hawaii and were generally Filipino, Portuguese, Chinese, Japanese, Tongan, Samoan, Hawaiian. It didn’t much matter what race you were as long as you weren’t a white kid from out of state, like I was. Mostly what mattered was the culture. If you acted like a local kid, you were a local kid and you didn’t get harassed. But if you didn’t they called you “haole” which literally means stranger in Hawaiian but was generally a derogatory term for white people that was usually used in conjunction with “stupid.” For the most part, the only times I was ever called a haole was when I was being an idiot, so I always associated it more with actions than with my color. As a result, it’s weird for me to think of things as being a result of race. I just automatically think of race as being an extra thing, a descriptor rather than something that determines anything.
One thing that I’ve been thinking of is the story of the man who found out that he wasn’t black. I don’t understand why he was so mad to find out that he wasn’t black. If he had known his entire life that he wasn’t, would that have changed anything? He says himself that where he was growing up, you were either black or you were white. Not being black still did not make him white so he would have recieved the same treatment growing up and still been seen as black. The only difference would be that he would be fighting against being labelled as black the whole time. I feel like his incorrect belief that he was a black man maybe saved him from a lifetime of struggling with his identity. Having an incorrect image of himself may have been a better than an accurate one. I can understand though how this discovery could shake his foundations. When you think you know who you are and learn that something he knew his whole life, something so obvious as the color of your skin isn’t true. Now his wife’s reaction was even more bizarre. She said “what do you mean? You’re a black man? I defied my mother to marry you. You’ve got to be black!” Weird.
My favorite story was Malcolm Gladwell’s tale of his running and that personal choice to be fast. That moment when an athlete turns to themself and asks “how much do I care?” He saw that as the true difference between a great athlete and a hobbyist. I really liked that idea that maybe race came into play to a certain extent but that it didn’t define the whole story, that it was that individual choice to keep running, to keep moving, to push through that pain and come out the other side.
This episode of radio lab left me with the same feeling I had before, that maybe race has something to do in predetermining our lives but that for the most part, it’s our choices that define us. Our diet plays a larger role in determining our blood pressure than our skin color does. Our ability to push through mental blocks is more vital to becoming a good athlete than whether or not we were Jamaican or British.
Growing up in Hawaii, I feel like I have a different perspective on race from a lot of people who were interviewed on the show. My high school was predominately made up of local kids, local being kids who grew up in Hawaii and were generally Filipino, Portuguese, Chinese, Japanese, Tongan, Samoan, Hawaiian. It didn’t much matter what race you were as long as you weren’t a white kid from out of state, like I was. Mostly what mattered was the culture. If you acted like a local kid, you were a local kid and you didn’t get harassed. But if you didn’t they called you “haole” which literally means stranger in Hawaiian but was generally a derogatory term for white people that was usually used in conjunction with “stupid.” For the most part, the only times I was ever called a haole was when I was being an idiot, so I always associated it more with actions than with my color. As a result, it’s weird for me to think of things as being a result of race. I just automatically think of race as being an extra thing, a descriptor rather than something that determines anything.
One thing that I’ve been thinking of is the story of the man who found out that he wasn’t black. I don’t understand why he was so mad to find out that he wasn’t black. If he had known his entire life that he wasn’t, would that have changed anything? He says himself that where he was growing up, you were either black or you were white. Not being black still did not make him white so he would have recieved the same treatment growing up and still been seen as black. The only difference would be that he would be fighting against being labelled as black the whole time. I feel like his incorrect belief that he was a black man maybe saved him from a lifetime of struggling with his identity. Having an incorrect image of himself may have been a better than an accurate one. I can understand though how this discovery could shake his foundations. When you think you know who you are and learn that something he knew his whole life, something so obvious as the color of your skin isn’t true. Now his wife’s reaction was even more bizarre. She said “what do you mean? You’re a black man? I defied my mother to marry you. You’ve got to be black!” Weird.
My favorite story was Malcolm Gladwell’s tale of his running and that personal choice to be fast. That moment when an athlete turns to themself and asks “how much do I care?” He saw that as the true difference between a great athlete and a hobbyist. I really liked that idea that maybe race came into play to a certain extent but that it didn’t define the whole story, that it was that individual choice to keep running, to keep moving, to push through that pain and come out the other side.
This episode of radio lab left me with the same feeling I had before, that maybe race has something to do in predetermining our lives but that for the most part, it’s our choices that define us. Our diet plays a larger role in determining our blood pressure than our skin color does. Our ability to push through mental blocks is more vital to becoming a good athlete than whether or not we were Jamaican or British.
Band Flyer
Fleur du Mal
Fleur du Mal began as a songwriting exercise between roommates one winter in Portland, Oregon. This beginning is definitely reflected in their music. These are songs to listen to when you need a pickme up on a cold and rainy winter day in the pacific northwest. Definitely not music that can stand up to the bright lights and hubub of a larger venue. Thankfully VinoVixen's cozy lounge full of couches and rugs was intimate enough that the audience could really get in touch with what makes Fleur du Mal so great, the lyrics which tell upbeat tales of cats falling in love and of moose going on picnics.
Now I'm not trying to say that their music is frilly and superficial. Okay, well it is. This is not a band that will get you thinking about the meaning of life and it doesn't have anything particularly meaningful to say. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing. For what it is, Fleur du Mal does well. The simple melodies the girls play on keyboard and banjo complement their warm easy voices. The crowd sipped their wine and tapped their feet along to the beat, chuckling occasionally when Mr. Pig got into trouble.
So if you feel like going out but you can't bring yourself to put on your dancing shoes, I suggest you go see Fleur du Mal next time they play at Vino Vixens (Wednesday December 1st 2010). I hear Mr. Pig will be building a bottle rocket.
01 Moose Picnic
02 Whiskers and Minx
03 Circus Song
04 Penguin Parade
05 Mr Pig's Pipe
06 A Dog Named Sue
07 The Apple
08 The Day the Trees Went Walkin'
09 Trails of Crumbs
10 Daffodils and Sunshine
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Least Favorite Songs
margaritaville- jimmy buffet
simply some of the worst lyrics I've ever heard. "stepped on a pop top, blew out my flip flop"... really? and to top it off, my mom loves him and insists on getting one of his calendars every year for christmas.
lucky- britney spears
now don't get me wrong, I love me some britney. gimme any of her other songs any time and I'm singing along and dancing. but lucky? ugh I don't know if its the ridiculous narration or the bizarre sound effects but it's always given me that nails on a chalkboard feeling.
revolution number nine- the beatles
the first time I heard this song I was driving by myself to pick up a friend from the boonies. the radio was on low because I'd just made a phone call and I got this unsettling feeling like I was about to die from demonic possession. nope. it was just this song. "song" rather.
wildcat- ratatat
this song makes me unable to play this ratatat cd on shuffle because I'd have to go running to change the song anytime it came on. the constant use of a mountain lion roaring drives me a little batty. stop it! stop using that damn catsound!
honkytonk badonkadonk- trace adkins
they played this song on the scream'n eagle while I was working at oaks park. at first it made me laugh because it's so ridiculous but then it drilled its way into my brain and made me shout at children that didn't deserve it. "how'd she even get them britches on?" aaaaguhfakljhgkgghhhhh
1234- plain white t's
just mindlessly terrible sappy lyrics with no artistry or imagination. horrible. just horrible. the fact that they played it every two hours in the macy's muzak made my brain bleed. literally. I had to get a shunt, that's how bad this song is.
tubthumping- chumbawumba
look at that title. look at that band name. listen to those lyrics. need I say more?
soak up the sun- sheryl crow
okay I know I said that jimmy buffet was the worst lyricist of all time... I had forgotten about little miss repetitive sheryl crow.... simply hearing this vapid song is a waste of time.
message in a bottle- the police
I have never liked this song. when I was younger I thought I'd grow up and like jazz and onions and message in a bottle. never happened. so horrifically repetitive. I feel like I lose brain cells whenever this song comes on.
ordinary average guy- joe walsh
another oaks park song. this time on the rock'n'roll, my least favorite ride to operate because people would scream at you as they spun around and no one kept their hands down and everyone threw up and the ride would keep spinning and the puke would circle the whole ride. also he sings about picking up poop. not worthwhile.
simply some of the worst lyrics I've ever heard. "stepped on a pop top, blew out my flip flop"... really? and to top it off, my mom loves him and insists on getting one of his calendars every year for christmas.
lucky- britney spears
now don't get me wrong, I love me some britney. gimme any of her other songs any time and I'm singing along and dancing. but lucky? ugh I don't know if its the ridiculous narration or the bizarre sound effects but it's always given me that nails on a chalkboard feeling.
revolution number nine- the beatles
the first time I heard this song I was driving by myself to pick up a friend from the boonies. the radio was on low because I'd just made a phone call and I got this unsettling feeling like I was about to die from demonic possession. nope. it was just this song. "song" rather.
wildcat- ratatat
this song makes me unable to play this ratatat cd on shuffle because I'd have to go running to change the song anytime it came on. the constant use of a mountain lion roaring drives me a little batty. stop it! stop using that damn catsound!
honkytonk badonkadonk- trace adkins
they played this song on the scream'n eagle while I was working at oaks park. at first it made me laugh because it's so ridiculous but then it drilled its way into my brain and made me shout at children that didn't deserve it. "how'd she even get them britches on?" aaaaguhfakljhgkgghhhhh
1234- plain white t's
just mindlessly terrible sappy lyrics with no artistry or imagination. horrible. just horrible. the fact that they played it every two hours in the macy's muzak made my brain bleed. literally. I had to get a shunt, that's how bad this song is.
tubthumping- chumbawumba
look at that title. look at that band name. listen to those lyrics. need I say more?
soak up the sun- sheryl crow
okay I know I said that jimmy buffet was the worst lyricist of all time... I had forgotten about little miss repetitive sheryl crow.... simply hearing this vapid song is a waste of time.
message in a bottle- the police
I have never liked this song. when I was younger I thought I'd grow up and like jazz and onions and message in a bottle. never happened. so horrifically repetitive. I feel like I lose brain cells whenever this song comes on.
ordinary average guy- joe walsh
another oaks park song. this time on the rock'n'roll, my least favorite ride to operate because people would scream at you as they spun around and no one kept their hands down and everyone threw up and the ride would keep spinning and the puke would circle the whole ride. also he sings about picking up poop. not worthwhile.
Favorite Songs
start wearing purple- gogol bordello
a bizarro gypsy punk kind of song that's just completely different from anything else. when you listen to it you can't help but start writhing and cheering on the dance floor, heart pumping.
wake up- arcade fire
this song is the perfect theme song for any situation. running dramatically in the rain? check. white water rafting? check. fierce makeout? check. making breakfast for yourself? check. I want this song to be played during the inevitable slideshow at my inevitable funeral. I want a montage of my life set to this song.
airplanes- local natives
it was a tossup between this song and sun hands by the same band. I figured that since I spent a week straight with this song on repeat at top volume, that airplanes- as the moodier, less nonsensical of the two- was the winner.
sleepyhead- passion pit
I don't know a single word to this song aside from "sleepyhead" and yet I keep singing it "wah wah wah wop whoah ah oah!" I think that can stand to show how desperately obsessed I am with it.
sodom, south georgia- iron and wine
I knew I had to put iron and wine on this list. choosing which one was a difficult decision. I chose sodom, south georgia because it was the first song I listened to after my grandfather died and it's made me cry every time I've listened to it since then. an amazing song with amazing lyrics, and- at least for myself- powerful associations.
no one's gonna love you- cee-lo green or band of horses
amazing amazing amazing song. I can't even put words to how much I love it. band of horses wrote it originally and I love their version but the cover that cee-lo green (with a voice so beautiful it must heal the sick) did is so good that even band of horses thinks it's better. on a side note, I sang this song at karaoke and got hit on by the most gorgeous man with the most gorgeous voice after. this song is simply magic.
daylight- matt and kim
an infectiously upbeat song with an adorable music video. I listen to it any time I need a pick me up. just pure joy in musical form.
the gardener- the tallest man on earth
I had been listening to this song over and over for weeks before realizing that it was about a jealous lover who buries his competition in the garden. ah what a garden I have made.
don't stop believin'- journey
I can't hear this song and sit still. as soon as those fist chords start, it becomes imperative that I begin to pump my fist and sing along at the top of my lungs.
total eclipse of the heart- bonnie tyler
there is no way that you can hear this song and not belt along. ridiculously overly melodramatic. perfect.
a bizarro gypsy punk kind of song that's just completely different from anything else. when you listen to it you can't help but start writhing and cheering on the dance floor, heart pumping.
wake up- arcade fire
this song is the perfect theme song for any situation. running dramatically in the rain? check. white water rafting? check. fierce makeout? check. making breakfast for yourself? check. I want this song to be played during the inevitable slideshow at my inevitable funeral. I want a montage of my life set to this song.
airplanes- local natives
it was a tossup between this song and sun hands by the same band. I figured that since I spent a week straight with this song on repeat at top volume, that airplanes- as the moodier, less nonsensical of the two- was the winner.
sleepyhead- passion pit
I don't know a single word to this song aside from "sleepyhead" and yet I keep singing it "wah wah wah wop whoah ah oah!" I think that can stand to show how desperately obsessed I am with it.
sodom, south georgia- iron and wine
I knew I had to put iron and wine on this list. choosing which one was a difficult decision. I chose sodom, south georgia because it was the first song I listened to after my grandfather died and it's made me cry every time I've listened to it since then. an amazing song with amazing lyrics, and- at least for myself- powerful associations.
no one's gonna love you- cee-lo green or band of horses
amazing amazing amazing song. I can't even put words to how much I love it. band of horses wrote it originally and I love their version but the cover that cee-lo green (with a voice so beautiful it must heal the sick) did is so good that even band of horses thinks it's better. on a side note, I sang this song at karaoke and got hit on by the most gorgeous man with the most gorgeous voice after. this song is simply magic.
daylight- matt and kim
an infectiously upbeat song with an adorable music video. I listen to it any time I need a pick me up. just pure joy in musical form.
the gardener- the tallest man on earth
I had been listening to this song over and over for weeks before realizing that it was about a jealous lover who buries his competition in the garden. ah what a garden I have made.
don't stop believin'- journey
I can't hear this song and sit still. as soon as those fist chords start, it becomes imperative that I begin to pump my fist and sing along at the top of my lungs.
total eclipse of the heart- bonnie tyler
there is no way that you can hear this song and not belt along. ridiculously overly melodramatic. perfect.
Art Intervention Project.
A Library Intervention in the style of Erwin Wurm's one minute sculptures.
An Intervention in the style of Erwin Wurm's one minute sculptures
I had people take a sheet of paper and each write a memory they shared with the other person (keeping theirs secret). They then would crumple up their shared memory and physically share it, holding it between the two of them using anything but their hands. This made them re-share an old memory and also create a new shared memory. At least that was my original intention. What ended up happening was that I met with people who used to know my roommate and had them share memories with her.
Art Intervention #2 A Grocery Store Mixup in the style of Gabriel Velasquez.
Art Intervention #3
I feel like people in the US are afraid to touch each other so I took the opportunity to get into peoples faces like Lilly McElroy by holding their hands for extended periods of time.
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| The books are sending us messages. |
An Intervention in the style of Erwin Wurm's one minute sculptures
Art Intervention #2 A Grocery Store Mixup in the style of Gabriel Velasquez.
Art Intervention #3
I feel like people in the US are afraid to touch each other so I took the opportunity to get into peoples faces like Lilly McElroy by holding their hands for extended periods of time.
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