Variations on a theme

Hey, like my new, not-remotely-pretentious blog format, guys?

I sometimes laugh that I even have a blog. Almost every day's the same: I get up, go to work, do my boring job all day, trudge home, and spend the evening dwelling on all the things I'm too tired to actually do, but which might actually get out of my current situation if I had enough energy to do them. Sometimes I feel guilty about how little I like the situation I'm in since, after all, I have a job that adequately pays the rent, and a good boss.

I read this article today about the Millenial generation and felt perfectly pinned, except that the "lazy" Millenials she's describing in her office seem a lot less lazy and more motivated than I am. One thing that routinely bugs me, however, about critiques of the Millenial generation is how the writers of these articles so completely remove themselves from the situation. It's not as though the Millenial generation raised itself, or aliens dumped us here fully formed. Yes, each individual needs to take responsibility for who he or she becomes, but no one ever stops to ask if we could have been born into the era of yuppie greed, a booming growth of electronic entertainment, increased celebrity worship, "every child is special, can become president, can do what they want with their lives," and a decreased emphasis on having your kid pull his or her weight around the house, and be expected to turn out any differently.

My mom once described to me something called Maslow's Hierarchy, which describes the order in which people worry about their quality of life. Physiological needs come first (food, water, excretion, sex, etc), then safety (of self, family, resources), love/belonging, esteem (by self and others), then self-actualization. Once one level has been achieved, we worry about the next, but not until then (basically). Another criticism I've heard of the Millenial generation is that we move on from job to job too frequently -- always looking for a more fulfilling experience. Seen in context of Maslow's hierarchy, this only makes sense. A couple of generations ago, the primary need our culture emphasized was providing for the family. People dreamed of owning a house with the proverbial picket fence. After that was achieved and taken for granted, later generations worried more about financial security. Now we, who've been raised in perhaps the best economic climate in history, are all pursuing self-actualizing careers. Art teacher. Professor. Screen-writer. Novelist. Harsher critics might say we're actually pursuing more entertaining careers, and they may be right. How much can we really be blamed? Doesn't this seem like a natural progression, especially when many of us were raised with the attitude that settling for anything different in a job would be either materialistic or selling ourselves short?

What's scary is that the culmination of this trend is coinciding with the globalization of the job market and a population that's growing exponentially. So, yes, there's a good chance we'll have to settle for something less than exactly what we want to do with our careers. Maybe in 30 years we'll be worried about eating at all, but I hope not. Still, is it all that unreasonable to want to be happy? Even if our ideas about what would make us happy are a little inflated, or if we expect it to happen too readily? To not want to spend most of our waking lives being bored or miserable? Maybe this is our generation's burden to bear: being set up with unrealistic expectations, then having to face not only reality, but a grimmer reality than anyone saw coming. Yet, knowing all this, it's still hard to not want to shoot for a career that will make me happy.

On a lighter note ("Thank God," screams everyone), super-congratulations to the guy I mentioned earlier, Chris LaPorte, who just won ArtPrize! There's one self-actualized artist who won't have to worry about going hungry for a while.

"I have lived through much, and now I think I have found what is needed for happiness. A quiet secluded life in the country, with the possibility of being useful to people to whom it is easy to do good, and who are not accustomed to have it done to them; then work which one hopes may be of some use; then rest, nature, books, music, love for one's neighbor - such is my idea of happiness. And then, on top of all that, a mate, and children, perhaps - what more can the heart of man desire?"
- Tolstoy's "Family Happiness"

Before the Fall

I'm currently cleaning out my work sent-mail box, and came across the following conversation:

Me [After a lunch w/coworkers at which only things I don't care about were discussed]: Why do they talk about boringness? Why?
Kasey: Because, darling, they're geeks. It's what they do. And again, I speak enough of it that I'm not nearly as bored as you. Next time when they're talking, we'll just talk about purses and Victorian literature. :)
Me: Sounds like a plan. Most of my friends are geeks, and when they start talking about Battlestar Galactica or whatever, I do get bored, but they have varied enough interests that other things come up too.

By my calculations, I watched my first Trek episode two weeks later. Can anyone else hear God laughing?

P.S. Kasey (i.e. Trek-and-Pizza!Night Kasey) is a very patient and understanding individual. I can hardly remember what we talked about before we talked about Star Trek. Hopefully not purses.

No prize for me

It's time for ArtPrize in the GRap again! I love how it took off as a phenomenon immediately -- like, last year was its first year and it instantly became the annual event everyone in town talks about and looks forward to, attracting hundreds of submissions from around the world. This year I know a couple people who entered, and one of them has already been voted into the top 25 (with very good reason)! (This is actually the guy who taught the figure drawing class I took a few years ago.)

Anyway, I don't have anything entered (I think few people would vote for my Laura Roslin sketches), but in honor of the event, I thought I'd follow up on my promise of last February by posting some older work. Rather than doing a progressive post starting with childhood, though, I'm just going to post some of my favorite high school stuff, because... there's a lot of stuff.

Yes. Epically long post of... epic... longness. Perhaps I should've split it up. Sorry. I'll pretend it was due to some professional need to have these all in one place.


(Click to enlarge.)

This is my baby cousin. He's turning 17 soon (eeeesh).


Playing with charcoal...




When you're in art class looking for something to draw while the teacher's talking, sometimes you draw the teacher:


A self portrait of questionable accuracy. I was supposed to be doing homework at this point if I remember correctly.


Hand exercises!




Random sketches.


Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.


9th and 10th grade was my Ingrid Bergman/'40s actresses phase:




After that, Glenn Close. Disney has an impressive history of HBICs; unfortunately, most of them are villains (there's a dissertation there somewhere). Cruella's a pretty kickass example.


Sense & Sensibility:




Hercule Poirot. (I went through an Agatha Christie phase that coincided with my Ingrid Bergman phase; convenient since she was in Murder on the Orient Express.)


At some point I started this drawing of me and my grandma. I need to find that photograph and finish it.


...You're still reading? I'm way impressed. Almost done.
In 12th grade, I went to France and took a picture of Canova's sculpture Pshyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss at the Louvre, which I then drew. Which makes this, what, 2 steps removed from counting as original?


Summer before college; my cousin and I were drawing from her fashion and dancing magazines.






One of the first friends I made freshman year in college. Conveniently for me and my need for models, he had a tendency to fall asleep in public places.

As if I could love him any more

Edward James Olmos is talking about writing a (massive spoilery spoilers in the link, Monica) graphic novel chronicling what happened after the end of BSG. What are your thoughts? It's been pointed out there's a good chance he couldn't actually get the rights to do it. I have mixed feelings, but if it were actually to come to fruition I would of course buy one.

Drug running is also an option

As a couple of you are aware, I've been enthusing over this one really fabulous art program I've found. It seems to be the only grad program in the country focused on classical figure drawing -- most/all other programs tend to focus on avant garde/modern art, tend to be interdisciplinary, and are more focused on self-directed exploration (which has its advantages, granted). However, this is an entire two-year program built around teaching you to draw the human form really well -- anatomy classes and perspective classes and classes on assembling multi-figure compositions. I've been super-geeked.

I noticed, looking at the student work, that while some of it was impressive, most of it, frankly, was not. However, I knew of at least one graduate whose work I considered spectacular, and I figured I could use the classes to better my own technique even if my classmates weren't quite as advanced (although I started to worry about why the school's admissions requirements were so lax).

Then, very accidentally, I noticed yesterday that it isn't accredited by the National Association of Schools of Art and Design. I hadn't heard of NASAD, but it seemed important, and this prompted further research. As it turns out, School of Choice isn't regionally accredited either.

Poop.

It took a few hours for this disappointment to fully sink in, by which time my mother was over for dinner and able to provide me with a shoulder to cry on and someone to rant to. It turned into an entire evening of waxing and wailing about my concerns and thoughts about going into the world of art in general. She listened very sympathetically and quietly, until finally she chimed in with her grand input for the evening: "...And I heard on NPR the other day that schools are more and more often just hiring adjunct for $2,000 a class instead of taking on new full time faculty."

...Which is the story of how I ended up lying awake past 2am, quaking and crying and unable to decide whether I could most easily face suicide, starvation, or a life wasted toiling away at a job I detested.

Why I couldn't have been born with a brain that tends toward engineering or health care, I'll never understand.

Wish you were here

In the last month and a half, friends and family have been sending me a surprising number of post cards. I like it; it reminds me how much I love them. For instance, these two came in today:



September 7, 2010
Dear Holly,
Sigh. If only vacations could continue on forever. I need to become independently wealthy, so that I may forgo the shackles of a career and just wander the Earth with my journal and my camera. It's decided, then -- bank robbery is the way to go.
Miguel

.....



Holly--
Lunch!
Uncle Ken

.....

And about a month ago, my friend Kathleen sent me this one:

I'm sure I'll miss summer again soon, too

To hold you over until I have something more substantial to post, here's a photo-post featuring a somewhat more flattering photo of me, which my talented friend Kate (who I had totally forgotten has a blog) apparently posted months ago:

Farmer's market snaps

She's got some lovely shots on her blog, but the farmer's market ones are some of my faves.

In other news, I painted my apartment this weekend! I'll post pics when I get art on the wall and the furniture where I want it -- at the moment, the loom is at an angle in front of the sliding glass door, jutting into the middle of the living room. This is actually exactly where I want it in terms of fresh air and natural light, but it does look a bit awkward. It might stay there, though.