Tuesday, April 27, 2010


Okay Okay! I have a my first show on July 9th. It will be at the P&H here in Memphis. Now I just need to figure out what to put in it. Ah well, I'll worry about that after finals.

Monday, April 26, 2010


I found out recently that Ted Rust, the director emeritus of the Memphis College of Art, has one of my paintings. It is this one:

Brothers (2009)

Jeff Nesin, the president of the college, bought it at the Holiday Bazaar for him. Apparently, he buys all kinds of things having to do with cardinals for Ted. Awe Friends! I'm very happy about this. I mean, the whole college is currently located in one building: Rust Hall. As in Ted Rust. Very nice surprise to hear that one.


Oh gosh. Sorry about that glare.

Catalyst (2010)

Here is the latest painting. The explosion represents a catalyst. Any one will do. Any reason you can think of that would start the decay of a neighborhood. My professor thought it reminded her of when they had to blow up the levees to save New Orleans in the early 1900s. I think thats when it happened. The top painting is actually two paintings superimposed atop one another. I painted houses that one would find in New Orleans or in Memphis. The landscape has replaced these ghost houses for one reason or another. Here I am in front of it, which sort of gives you a better look at the part obsured by the glare in the first picture:

Oh and by the way, this blog has not in fact saved my hair from me. I cut it yesterday. I didn't want to. I couldn't help it. I kept thinking about the amount of school work I had and my presently fruitless job search and bills and I just couldn't help it. Off went a couple inches.

Sunday, April 25, 2010


Here are some of my paintings: (By the way I am willing to sell any of them.)

Still-life (2010)

Here is the kitchen sink. A "still-life." That is in quotations because this is not something alive being still. These things are always still. Figure painting is more a still life because a human is living, just still in the painting. When doing this sink painting, I was really stuck on that term. So I thought that, if I were to do a still-life, it should be like a snapshot of my life. Nothing purposefully composed. Haphazard evidence of a living thing. So dirty dishes yet to be washed at the end of the day seemed appropriate. Apparently I really had nothing but coffee and water that day. That is unusually clean for my sink.
Imperfect Barrier 1 (2010)

I was looking at Janet Fish for this one. Look her up if you need to. Even if you don't need to. Especially the ones of all the glasses layered up. Beautiful. Anyway, this is obviously having to do with hurricanes and hurricane preparedness. I'm originally from the greater New Orleans Area, and the only time we had bottles of water was if a hurricane was a-coming. These things that we do to prepare ourselves do not actually help. That was proven during Katrina. All the waterbottles and sandbags in the world won't make a magical shield of protection from danger. As for the color palette: you know how the sky almost turns green right before a bad storm? Beautiful.

More of my paintings to come.


I am terrified.

I was like an animal in a zoo, people kept coming to take a good look. Voyeurs without shame, faces in half shadow, expecting a show. And I was simultaneously doing the exact same thing.
This was the one and only time I will ever experience Chatroulette. I couldn't be on screen, I avoided it while my friend pretended to beat up people by punching in the direction of the camera. I saw a few people manipulating themselves.

I don't like this phenomenon.
My mind just cannot wrap itself around it. I can barely deal with the people in one town, let alone the whole world. That website is not for this agoraphobic. Now people can just look right into the places I feel safe from other people. Insanity.
Also, most of these people were alone and in the dark. Maybe just curious, but probably lonely. What are they doing? I'm halfway around the world. Find some friends were you live.

P.S. This is a fun thing about real friends: I was just called a "tiny pipsqueak, a squalking pipfreak, pippy longstalking baby mosquito bug lady." I hate that guy. I love that guy.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010


Alright. I suppose I needed one of these. This blog may keep me from shearing all my hair off when I feel especially neurotic. Always happens, trying to change it.

I'm living in Memphis, Tennessee because of the art school here. Twice today the same father and son came to the door, begging to let them cut the lawn in exchange for $6. Times are tough. No one in our house had $6 to give them, even if we had pooled the money. Times are tough all over.