The Bird Queen

Creepy is the New Black.

2011-02-10T09:39:00.000-08:00

<-- I <3 Juliette Lewis

Well, maybe not "creepy" but, at least weird. From what I have learned from such films as White Christmas and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, there once was a time when "coolness" came with a certain degree of poise and elegance. Being fashionable and chic were one in the same. Maybe it's just my artschool upbringing, but it seems like chic-ness illicits eyerolling among the very coolest of the cool. If you are chic, expensive, well-tailored... you're simply trying too hard (even if you make it look easy). "Be Yourself," has metamorphosed from a lets-all-get-along saying to some sort of a challenge... and, part of me likes it.

So I challenge you to "Be Yourself," but not in a comfortable way. Be a cartoon of yourself, or, yourself to the Nth degree.

It seems like part of the effect of this onslaught of information associated with the world wide web has been a perverted self-awareness. We post about what we like and what we know about ourselves, all the while perpetuating our cartoonish external identities. We are encouraged so much as children to differentiate and embrace the things that make us different, and make us stand out, that it becomes difficult to know what we have been pressured to believe about ourselves, as opposed to what is actually there to begin with. It's exciting to live in a time that I believe favors differentiation to conformity. It's liberating! But are we putting too much pressure on ourselves to be different? To stand out? To invent?

I was just talking to one of my classes about this (vaguely). We were discussing how the English language is disintegrating, and I had what I think may have been an 'aha' moment. Typically I would quietly complain to myself about the fact that 1/2 of the papers I had to read were completely illegible because of an inconsistently twitter-like sentence structure and abbreviated words... But this time, something different happened. I thought, "Maybe this is the way language is supposed to evolve." Plently of philosophers believe that language itself is flawed- that using arbitrary symbols to try to get a message across is downright stupid. Someone go wake up Neitzsche. Tell him we are on the way back to images from abstract symbols. If we get a few more murals up in Philadelphia, future generations will think that we communicated that way anyway.

What did I start out talking about here? Oh, right. Creepy is the new black. So anyway- there is more emphasis placed on the person today rather than the generation, the family, or the nation. It's really fine with me. People are making more and more amazing things every day- and sometimes I think it's genuine. Here is a new piece that I made for BirdQueen Designs, as well as a piece from ilovegreyskies (below).

"In My Body," "In Loving Memory of Yellow," and the rest of 2011

2011-01-27T08:22:00.000-08:00

So, one of my new years resolutions SHOULD be to get better at posting more often, but, instead I will just take advantage of this snow day as an opportunity to catch you all up on the fantasticness in my life.
In the end of 2010, a multimedia project titled "In My Body" began with an exhibition of Leah McDonald's encaustic photographs of female nudes. To oversimplify, the objective of the project as a whole was (and is) to explore feminine self-image and self-esteem as it relates to gender roles and imposing societal norms. Shortly after the opening reception for McDonald's work at the Wexler Gallery in Old City, Wexler hosted an expert panel discussion about women and body image featuring a personal trainer, a plastic surgeon, an emerging fashion designer specializing in plus-sized women's denim, an ex-ballerina, a psycho-therapist, and a Qi-Gong instructor. I had the priviledge of attending and was enthralled by the conversation which was both engaging and eye-opening. It was interesting to have the plastic surgeon in there, sprinkling the conversation with slightly tense moments that sparked some confused and dissatisfied mutterings among attendees.
The last piece of the puzzle was a multimedia performance featuring vocalists, musicians, dancers and projections of McDonald's photographs. I had the pleasure of attending on this past Saturday evening. I have to admit, performance art is not my favorite, and hearing people sing sometimes makes me uncomfortable. Before the performance I was tense and nervous that it would not be something I would enjoy, but I was pleasantly surprised. For the majority of the performance, one dancer from the Melanie Stewart Dance Theatre would perform a movement piece while McDonald's photographs of that dancer were projected behind her, and one of the vocalists would read a personal story written by the dancer about her relationship with her body. Some of the anecdotes were incredibly moving, and the choreography was both beautiful and expressive without being too lyrical or literal. When it came time for Melanie's solo piece, the audience was completely engaged. While the vocalist told her story there was laughter, a gasp, and then silence- her story had been so personal and so well-paced. I found myself wishing I could run up to her and give her a hug and tell her that most women would kill to have her body, and I found myself wishing I belonged to this dance company.
So, that is one decision I have made about 2011- it is time to dance again.
At the end of the performance, Marissa Hines, who had been narrating through the entire evening stood up with her microphone and started belting out the song that had been adopted as a theme for the entire show. I was amazed. Her voice was absolutely astounding. I want to know what else she does, because it was quite possibly the most impressive voice I have ever heard live. The evening ended, and I was very glad I had attended this event.
"In Loving Memory of Yellow" is a short story and drawing project that I have been working on for the past 2 years and it is finally coming to fruition. The 33-drawing series will be showcased in an exhibition titled "Old Bones" which will hang at either Bambi Gallery or Proximity Gallery in Philadelphia with a first-friday opening next week (we are waiting to hear about the venue). "Old Bones" is a two-person exhibition featuring my work and the work of my boo, Daniel Hoffman, who will be showing some of his recent works in the other half of the gallery. In Loving Memory of Yellow is also now available for sale through createspace and features 5 written short stories based on my strange and surreal dreams, plus "I'm Already Married to My Habits," a short story comprised solely of the 33 images which will be featured at the opening reception on the 4th. You can buy the book here. Please come out to the opening reception next Friday if you can!!
On Tuesday Feb.1st, Dan and I will be closing on our house in South Philly. Very exciting!!! I will post pics when we get some things set up, but we are both very happy to be getting into a place with a LOT more space.
As far as the rest of 2011 goes, I am optimistic. I have a lot of work ahead of me, as well as a lot of opportunities. BirdQueen Designs just keeps growing, and I will be taking a more active role in the promotion of my jewelry in the coming year. The images on the site will be getting a little bit of a makeover so they will be consistent and more professional-looking, and, as always, you can look forward to seeing more designs on a monthly or bi-monthly basis (if you're interested).
2011: New house, big exhibition, first book and hopefully vending at a lot of prestigious fairs this spring and summer.

You had me at "Jewels Verne."

2010-11-22T06:58:00.001-08:00

I was recently inspired to look up some funky engagement rings by a friend who confided in me that he is thinking of "popping the question," and now I have become completely obsessed with jewelry websites and making myself familiar with some very talented designers working in upscale materials (as well as some fun plasticky etsy designers).

First, I was looking for engagement rings and I came across the ring of MY dreams, which isn't necessarily helpful when suggesting sites and rings to someone else. To the left is the interesting-enough-for-me-to-care-a-little-about-diamonds masterpiece by Shaun Leane; a designer who sells through the Astley Clarke website and specializes in organic-looking enamel and precious metal pieces for the chic hippie. This particular piece is the most understated in a series of oversized cocktail rings, pedants and earrings that incorporate cherry blossoms and buds. His other works featured on the site are also inspired by flowering trees and the juxtaposition of metals, precious stones, enamel (occasionally in fun colors) and pearls.

Another designer on the Astley Clarke website is Stephen Webster. While a little goth, I can definitely appreciate his sense of humor in both design and titling. His "Jewels Verne baby jellyfish" collection had me rolling around on the floor (inside), whilst still admiring the simultanaeity (?) of beauty and ridiculous punny-ness.

If you are looking for something a little more affordable, this lovely bird cutout bracelet is sure to make any nature-lover happy. Fresh and lightweight and great for matching with winter whites and spring and summer brights- a real year-round treat from Etsy designer Miss Blue Bird and Oscar. Also, it's only $14.00. Lovely.

And, lasty but not leasty is a couple of adorable elephant cufflinks for the distinguished gentleman in your life- available in purple or blue, these enameled sterling silver cuff-buddies march proudly around the end of your man's sleeves. Designed in-house by Astley Clarke for the well-dressed man with a cool sense of humor.

My Memory's Not What it Used to Be...

2010-08-18T07:26:00.000-07:00

But, I think, in some instances, it has actually gotten better.
For those of you who know me and the bodies of work I have been kicking around for the last couple of years, you know that memory has played an important role in my subject matter. Whether it is sketching out an idea for an installation or fleshing out the details of a dream-inspired short story, I rely on my fractured memory to piece together the details. In the short story I am presently working on, I deal with this issue directly. In an effort to honor my grandfather, I am trying to tell the story of my relationship with him, through a series of conversations which prove what I "know" about him to be false. This story is based on actual conversations and, since beginning this project, I have all but lost faith in my ability to recall accurate information.

However, there is still something beautiful to be found in this inability to conjure. The invented events do not change the amount of love that I felt for my grandfather. They are simply born of assumptions I made about him based on clues that I remember quite vividly (for example: I thought he worked for YELLOW trucking company because of a notepad he always had next to the phone in the kitchen). My ability to "make something up" has leaked out into my day-to-day activities and perverted my ability to recall facts... but has not affected my enjoyment of these snack-sized memories. I loved my grandfather, I loved his notepads, and I loved the fact that I believed Mentos didn't exist outside of my grandparents house.

To counterpoint, I actually HAD a memory today. As in, I recalled something that I hadn't thought about or known in a very long time. My friends and loved ones know it is very common for me to forget something, but this moment of remembering (without someone saying, "remember when...?" and describing a scene until I finally recalled it), is rare and special.

I was working on a drawing for Fleisher's Dear Fleisher invitational biennial benefit exhibition (not the piece featured above, I won't be able to show this new piece until the sale and exhibition at the end of September), and the particular blue I was using to fill in an area of the drawing looked, for a moment, EXACTLY like the sky at my cousin Courtney's house when we were kids. Then I remembered how special the sunsets were there. She lived in Bethlehem, and I lived in Stroudsburg. In my hometown, uninterrupted skies were impossible to see through miles and miles of dense forest and rolling hills. Bethlehem, however, was fairly flat (where Courtney's house was) and, on clear evenings, you could ALWAYS see the sunset from her swingset. We would make sure that we were sitting on top of the monkeybars at the right time to see the pinks and oranges in the sky, and we would talk and laugh and hang upside-down.

She also had romper-stompers (hand-me-downs from Grant), a monkey swing, and Grape Escape. My only punishment for this bounty of worldly delights would be the occasional dinner with beets as a side dish. I still think they taste like dirt.

Worth Saving For

2010-08-10T07:06:00.000-07:00

Ok. I just made a 29th birthday pledge to myself to cut down on my material posessions. I intend to root through my closet, bookshelves, art supply bins, and that dreaded cage in my basement that houses my most expendable items to find the things I do not use and purge them from my life. But of course, in the spirit of all things born of good intentions, I have already deviated from this good natured task. Yesterday I stopped at Ann Taylor to use the birthday gift card they gave me on a new top (it expires at the end of August! I HAD to!), I brought a discarded storage box and a sewing machine in from the sidewalk (someone HAS to have a use for it, I just need to check and see if it works before I offer it up), and today I have already recieved a lovely birthday present from my coworker, James, and a beautiful fashion illustration textbook from my boss, Alison.

And then I went to the Fabric Workshop's website.

I am putting together a sheet of information for my Product Development students about block printing and silkscreening, and (in the off-chance that one of my students becomes interested in textile design) I wanted to put together a sheet of information about the Apprenticeship program at the workshop, and was snooping around the website for info and cool images. One of the special things that the workshop offers are artist multiples... and one of the featured artists is KIKI SMITH. YES!!!! So I have posted images here of some of the items you could purchase at the gift shop by Kiki- a creepy peoplehead bird that has a motion detector inside and it makes some sounds or something, and a ceramic sheep bank.

So, once I get rid of 100 or so of my worldly posessions in this mega-purge, I'll reward myself with my very own work of Kiki Smith art. *sigh*

Nightswimming in Murakami

2010-07-06T20:03:00.000-07:00

I don't consider myself to be what anyone would call a prolific reader. I made a goal for myself at the beginning of 2010 (and the same goal for every year for the past 3 or 4) to read a book a month. To a lot of people this would seem like the opposite of a challenge. My older brother can park himself in a quiet room for 7 hours solid and polish off a good-sized novel. I have simply never had that ability. I find my mind wandering while I read and often have to re-read a paragraph 3 or 4 times before the information sinks in. Needless to say, reading is not quite as relaxing for me as it is for some, it is an exercise in concentration.

Murakami was suggested to me by my grad school professor, Michael Moore (not that Michael Moore) when I told him I was interested in writing short stories based on my dreams. At first it seemed like a marriage of convenience (I couldn't pay attention for long and most of his stories were under 30 pages), but after a while I realized that there was something truly magical about the worlds that he painted and I fell madly in love with his writing. Jeanette once told me, of a person she admired that she wanted to "go swimming in his brain" and that is the best combination of words to describe how Murakami's work makes me feel. He is adventurous in subject, adept at wordplay, and unafraid of cliches and inexplicable situations. I admire Kiki Smith for the same reasons; They are both exceptional at what they do, and are unafraid of laying their brains out naked for everyone to see.

But enough gushing.

I just finished Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman," and it is my FIRST book that I have read this year. A little behind schedule. The balance and flow of the 24 stories was impeccable. Some stories remained unresolved and frustrating while others tied up as neatly as Murakamily possible. Some stories revolved around perfectly realistic happenings and others involved mythical characters and talking monkeys. My favorite was "A 'Poor Aunt' Story," which involved a little of all of the above- ordinary situations with ordinary people, and an element which is inexplicably ...hazy. The reader leaves the story not knowing what has actually transpired, with no real reason to pick the story apart to solve that mystery. Every Murakami story is just the way that it is, leaving you wondering if that name appeared in another tome, and if that has some significance to the present story. I feel a strong sense of the present in his work. A lack of nostalgia. No real pretext for the future. Just ... is.

I'm not really making any sense, but I wanted to share how I feel right now, after JUST having finished this marvelous book; Supported, encouraged, and inspired.

A Fair-Weather Health-Nut on the Broad Street Run

2010-05-24T05:28:00.001-07:00

It's kind of silly that it took me this long to blog about the Broad Street Run that took place on May 2nd, but better late than never.
Emily asked me to participate in the 10-miler with her about 6 months before it happened and I gave her a hesitant 'yes.' While most people were training for the challenge, I shoved running to the back burner with the excuse, "I can always quit and catch the subway." I started "training" about a month before the race. I was surprised how easily my body adapted to running, and quickly realized that my stamina is better now than it was in high school... you know, when I was taking 5 dance classes a week and cheerleading for 2 hours every day after school.
In my junior year of high school, Kristin and I tried to train to run a mile for our presidential fitness testing in gym class. The fitness testing was insane. As a student, you were graded on how flexible you were, how many chin-ups and sit-ups you could do and how fast you could run a mile. The grading was not based on improvement, it was based on ability, and as one of the more 'in shape' students in the class, I couldn't even imagine what it would have been like to be an overweight or sedentary student. The mile grading scale went like this: under 8 minutes= A, 8-9 minutes= B, 9-10 minutes= C, 10-11 minutes= D, 11+ minutes= fail. I got a "C" and felt like someone had hit me with a bus when I was finished. If you had told me then that in 12 years I would do that x10, I would have peed myself laughing.
Before the Broad Street Run, I had been eating uncharacteristically well under the supervision of my hippie-holistic-chiropractic-dietitian-spirit guide. He had put me on a strict diet of no red meat, dairy, sugar, vinegar, coffee, alcohol, corn, or wheat. I lined up the first week of the cleanse with my period, so I had this amazing coffee and sugar withdrawal mixed with menstrual exhaustion and I was a miserable bitch. After that hump, I started to feel light and amazing. I carried over some of the dietary suggestions to my everyday life (it was a 30-day diet), and by the time the run came along, I had begun to re-introduce food items to my diet. For some months before the run, Emily and I had gotten into the habit of (in my case, erratically) attending spinning class at the 12th street gym. The intense cardio must have prepped me for the run, because the first time I practiced I ran 3.2 miles in 30 minutes and didn't have to stop to walk.
The Actual Run:
Standing at Broad and Olney, City Hall is nothing more than an imaginary dot behind gently rolling hills of concrete. Suddenly running for 2 hours solid sounded horrifying. The morning was hot and the Broad Street Run staff decided to open the fire hydrants along the route to cool us of as we rolled down the street in a river of bouncing Phillies caps. Emily and I ran for the first 4 miles solid and then lost each other. RAN FOR FOUR MILES SOLID. INSANE. Obviously, the run got harder and harder as the miles ticked away, and progress seemed a lot slower when I hit mile 7, but overall the experience was inspiring. 30,000 people moving together in relative synchrony. From Olney to the Naval Yard, spectators lined Broad Street with signs to encourage their friends and family members. I never thought I would be so excited to see Girard Ave.. Around mile 8 or 9, I started to feel really worn. Nearing the finish line my feet clumsily slapped the ground without rhythm, and I eeked out one more bit of energy to finish as strong as I could, crossing the line at 1 hour and 57 minutes. I felt very peaceful and happy for about 4 hours afterward, and around 6pm I experienced a depressing crash. It was kind of annoying that I am so emotionally sensitive that a natural endorphin rush can result in an emotional low. My joints ached that evening, and for the next 3 days my muscles ached... but that was it. My knees kept with me the whole time, only complaining the evening after I made them do twice what they had ever done in the past.
Needless to say, I haven't been back to the gym since... but I am going to try spinning tonight.

Kiki Smith: Sojourn, at the Brooklyn Museum

2010-04-25T07:00:00.000-07:00

I "met" Kiki Smith in Philadelphia in 2007. She was here for an opening of an exhibition that featured her print work at the Fabric Workshop. I immediately recognized her from an Alex Katz painting that I had seen in W magazine. I began swatting at my companion, whispering raspily "that's Kiki Smith, that's Kiki Smith!!! What do I do???" when she touched my arm and said, "The other artist will be speaking in the next room in a few minutes." I turned and stared at her with wide eyes, saying nothing until she wrinkled one of her eyebrows and walked away from me. I'm smooth.

The point is, she is my absolute favorite artist. Her work is so diverse and inspiring- I frequently think of her when I feel like I am dipping my hand in too many pots and need more focus. I believe she chooses her media in the same way that I do; first the idea comes, and then you think of a way to translate that idea into something visual or experiential, hopefully finding the method which enables the most people to feel something of it... And then you have to go out and learn how to use that media. Her drawings are my favorite, but she also works in paper mache, cast plaster and metals, paint, wooden construction, and cut paper. It's freeing to see her work because you feel simultaneously stimulated by many different types of work, as well as unlimited in your own methods of communicating with the public.

I found out a few months ago that she was installing a solo exhibition on the fourth floor of the Brooklyn Museum where mostly feminist art resides, and I knew I needed to see it. Now that I have seen it I know I need to see it again. Dan and I decided to make a day of it and see Sojourn, and the William Kentridge show (as well as the Tim Burton show) in the MoMA. We started out in Brooklyn, which was beautiful- I had never actually been to that part of New York, and we spent a good long time taking in Sojourn, and happening upon Judy Chicago's Dinner Party, which I had never seen in person.

Sojourn was incredible. Smith chronicled the lives of a few women, and in her intimate, awkward way, displayed private moments, dealt with platonic love, death, and lonliness, and filled and utilized the space in her many rooms with greatness. Lightbulbs covered with glitter hung from the ceiling, beaming rays of wax paper and toothpicks. The image shown is my favorite moment from the show. There is the old woman with a young woman flying from her lap (which I loved only slightly more than the sexy lady in lingerie with a little dove perched on her hand). I'm not going to pretend I know what she was trying to express, but there was all at once, a serious sense of letting go, loss, and freedom. I especially loved the way her world surrounded me and held me. The good news is, it is up until September 12, and the Museum is right next door to the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens... I smell a girly day coming up!

I would encourage anyone to go see the show; it's endearing, inspiring, and heart-breaking.

The Kentridge show was also incredible. I have to go back to see it again, because it was extremely heavy and political, and there was a lot of video work, which I can only watch for so long without getting museum-head. I saw about 60% of it and needed a break, but what I saw was fantastic, visually stimulating, masterfully executed, and full of intense messages of loss, depression, and the emotional effects of racism. I need to go back to take in the other 40%.

The Tim Burton show was overcrowded and a little disappointing. It was more of a collection of his movie paraphernalia than an exhibition of his works. There were lots of dolls from his stop-motion movies that he did not create, lots of storyboards that he didn't draw, and interpretations of his drawings in the form of sculptures that he did not mold. If you love Tim Burton's movies, and know what you are going to see from the get-go, then go see it. If not, it's completely missable.

New Artist's Statement

2010-04-13T14:02:00.000-07:00

I had to come up with something a little new because I am applying for a few exhibitions and I think my last artist's statement does not apply to my current body of work. Let me know what you think:

My current bodies of work deal with sequence and storytelling. Born from the stuff of illustration, these intricate drawings and embellished sculptures enable me to bring my dream life into the realm of the real. I am frequently inspired to give a visual voice to my own writings, inspired by my overactive nocturnal imagination, as well as the poems and short stories of friends and professionals. The result of this is sometimes embarrassing, often beautiful, and always uncomfortably intimate.

this is a holdover

2010-03-15T18:47:00.000-07:00

i know it's been a while, and i plan to post some smarty-arty-farty writing soon. but for now, enjoy this; my favorite animated music video. xoxo, gretchen

2 girls with no sense of direction take a day trip to New York

2010-01-24T03:51:00.000-08:00

Mariya and I planned to meet around 10:15 at 10th and Market to take the 10:30 Chinatown bus to New York for the day. I was a couple of minutes late, and we decided we were hungry, so we stopped into Wawa for macaroni and cheese and bottles of water before sitting on the 11:00 bus and waiting the 20 or so minutes for it to fill up and depart. The trip was relatively un-notable. There was a baby who made surprisingly little noise, a squeaky bar in the stowing compartment, and everyone slept in silence like a big group of old friends when a slumber party finally dies down.

Neither of us have ever navigated New York. Each of us were used to coming from Philly with someone who knew where they were going who would guide us around, neither of us independently paying attention to street names or whether we were walking North or West. When we got off the bus, we realized we didn't even really know what direction we should be walking in to get to Chelsea. Finding our way to things proved difficult. Remembering our way back was braggably easy. We asked strangers for directions, texted friends for advice and high-fived when we realized we were actually better at getting around than we had previously given ourselves credit for.

Chelsea,

Let's go join the circus.

You can take the trapeze.

I will tame the lion.

Walking around Chelsea was interesting. The first 10 galleries were awful and we were starting to collectively lose our interest in stopping in any more when we stumbled upon the work of that guy up there. Paolo Ventura. Actually it was that exact piece that made us stop and turn around to check out the Hasted Hunt Kraeutler Gallery. His work was delightful. He puts together these little models and photographs them. This exhibition was titled "Winter Stories" and included mostly circus themed scenes, or circus-y happenings. In one scene a man is being lifted off the ground by a cluster of balloons tied to his back. There was just something excited and pure and lovely about the little models which were available for viewing in a plexiglass case in the center of the gallery. In this gallery, there was also the work of photographer Edward Burtynsky- that guy that photographs industrial sites. His work was beautiful, too. And for me to say that means something- I am not typically partial to photographs.

We walked a little further and noticed a sign outside Kent Gallery that announced a show for Irving Petlin who was one of the critics at Pafa when Mariya and I were in grad school. We climbed the stairs and were excited to see his interesting and beautiful paintings that blended various styles and, to me, seemed obviously the work of someone who has been making art their whole adult life and is effortlessly cramming all of this information into a single picture plane. It was mature and lovely, and each piece had enough variety of subtle colors and textures to keep a girl interested for a significant amount of time. We walked toward the back of the gallery and noticed a group of important people in the backmost room, talking shop. I asked Mariya if one of them was Irving, and she said yes. At the receptionist's encouragement, we went in and said hello, and he was kind and happy to see us.

We ate in the garden section of an Italian restaurant between 24th and 25th street on 10th avenue.

We left Chelsea to look for KGB Bar in Greenwich Village.

Oh, the building numbers in New York, why don't you make any sense?!?!

We picked up the C subway to 4th Street and made our way east looking for KGB Bar at 85 East 4th Street, but got really confused when we found 86, and crossed the street to find 91, and nothing else but a Bank of America. Frustrated and walking around in circles, we finally crossed to the opposite block and found our destination. Seriously, New York City, 85 and 86 should be on the same block. It's confusing enough that you are mostly comprised of numbered streets and avenues, with random names strewn in between. Paris is the same way, 88 and 59 are across the street from each other.

So, we found the bar and went up to the second floor to find a charming red-draped room with a long bar at one end. I found my cousin Matthew, hugged, and exchanged introductions. Mariya and I found a place at the bar and got cozy with a drink. The bar was full of candlelight and it was warm. Before the poetry reading there was a buzz of conversation that kept itself at a reasonable volume. Shelly Reed got up to start the reading and Matthew was first in line. I was familiar with a few of the pieces from Pearslip, and he read a few poems that I hadn't heard before. His voice was soothing and had a beautiful performative quality about it. It was nice to hear a combination of familiar and new pieces. This was my first poetry reading ever. I did not know if I would enjoy it, or feel uncomfortable. Something about poetry sometimes makes me feel 17, like it's so personal I shouldn't be reading it. But the nature of the reading alleviated my discomfort, and I think I was able to diagnose the problem. When I read poetry, it is my voice in my head, my stories being told, and the subject matter is usually alien to my own life experiences. I have a hard time getting out of myself. The truly fantastic thing about a poetry reading was that I could let them be someone else's stories. I could hear them, instead of telling them to myself.

The combination of dim lighting, warmth, and collective silence in the room allowed me to leave the building, and my head behind.

Matthew finished and the crowd applauded emphatically.

Other readers followed. Elizabeth Rees's work was good, serious work, and was, at times a little merciless. Some of the stories were painful to listen to, and written in such a way that it took me a second to understand the actual events taking place. I picked up a copy of Elizabeth's chapbook for Nicole on my way out. Christina Olson's work was hilarious. I met her for a minute in the bathroom line only to find out that there wasn't actually a bathroom line and I had just sauntered up and joined in on a group conversation with a bunch of ladies I didn't know. The girls were gracious, giving me compliments on my boots and ushering me through to the ladies' room. Christina gave me a pin with a lobster on it that said her name, encouraging me to keep an eye out for her book that would be published in a few months. Damian Dressick read last and his work was really wonderful. He would quickly switch back and forth from funny to shocking to awkward, leading the listeners through a full range of emotions while never losing our trust. I am excited to see his work in the future. It smacks of McSweeney's in it's unexpected intimacy.

Mariya and I chatted with Matthew and his roommate for a few minutes before walking to the Chinatown bus to go home. We walked down Broadway to Division and Forsythe and wandered around a less-than comfortable chunk of Chinatown before finding our way to a couple of buses parked on the street near 88 East Broadway. Hear that, Mariya? 88 East Broadway. Now we can always get back when we take a day trip.

I won't get into the scene from Malibu's Most Wanted that unfolded a seat behind us on the way home, but I think if I heard the phrase "nah, son" one more time from one of those polish northeast Philly mama's boys, I was just going to lose it.

All in all, it was a stellar day.

TODO2010

2009-12-29T08:46:00.000-08:00

It's my favorite time of year. Time to think about all of the awesome things that happened in 2009, as well as all of the hard lessons learned. New Years is becoming more and more my favorite holiday because, to me, it marks a point to make promises to yourself that can spark dramatic self-improvement. I love making lists and setting goals, and it has become a tradition for me to create an ambitious year's checklist to keep the momentum of the previous year going, and to mark turning points in my personal goals and priorities. Last year's list proved to be pretty challenging, and I completed only 11 of the 30 things I set out to do. Regardless, I may not have tried to do any of those things, had I not made the list in the first place. So, pat on the back for the 1/3 of the list which was completed, and let's make myself a promise to get a little closer to completing the list this year.
Problems with last year's list: 1. I only looked at it at the beginning and end of the year. This year's rough draft is written out in my checklist book, so I should not be able to ignore it for months at a time. 2. Some of the goals are a little ambitious while still remaining vague. "#23. complete 2 bodies of artwork" No, Gretchen, "complete all drawings for the 'I'm already married to my habits' series" is much more specific and therefore, more likely to be achieved. 3. dance classes are expensive and I was paying by the class.
So here goes, the New Year's Checklist 2010:
1. Read 1 book a month and post a blog to review
2. Complete 1 drawing a week and post image to myspace.com
3. Submit 1 short story to McSweeney's
4. Complete and update BirdQueenDesigns.com with links to purchase items
5. Apply to vend at ArtsFest (by Jan.29, 2010) and the ArtStar Craft Bazaar
6. Participate in 5 charity events (AIDSwalk: October 17, and others to be named later)
7. Obtain a balance of $5000.00 in savings account
8. Pay $5000.00 extra towards student loans
9. Clean up banking: get rid of M&T, clear CC debt
10. Go to the gym twice a week (starting in March)
11. Show artwork in NYC
12. Finish 'I'm Already Married to my Habits'
13. Get jewelry into a boutique in NYC
14. Finish 'In Loving Memory of Yellow'
15. Visit the West Coast
16. Take 1 week off of buying things per month
17. Cook 1 new meal a month
18. Have a me day once a month (massage, pedicure, facial, haircut, somethin like that)
19. Attend PB critiques at Pafa
20. Apply for 5 grants
21. Watch Art 21 Series
22. Subscribe to McSweeney's AND collect the entire 33 existing volumes
23. Go to NYC once a month
24. Visit the PMA once a month
25. Get a SOLO exhibition in a gallery in Philly.

The End! Keep on me about it!

29

2009-12-27T08:33:00.000-08:00

I went to Borders Bookstore a few weeks ago (or a couple, or a month, you know i have a shitty sense of time), and was looking for books of short stories to add to my to-read list and asked for assistance. The customer service rep pointed me in the direction of the short story and essay anthologies in the literature section. I was looking for Dave Hickey, but was pretty open to anything. I found a beautiful hardcover book with creative cutouts on the front cover and a 60's-looking silkscreened image of 2 space dogs on the first page. I leafed through it and it was certainly beautiful. It was called "McSweeney's 29" which of course didn't mean anything to me until I noticed the 4 or 5 other books with McSweeney's written on their spines. Eack book looked completely different, all hardcover, all beautiful, but in various sizes and with completely contrasting designs and color schemes. Nothing connected them apart from the name, and I immediately wanted all of them. I settled on the space dogs book I had originally picked up and went to the register. I started reading it that night, crying by myself in my room at 2am during the first story by Brian Baise (which is a pretty big deal- I have never, to my memory, cried from something I have read before). The rest of the book did not disappoint, and though 2 or 3 weeks is not fast for most people to read a 178 page book it is a pretty big deal for me so back off.
At any rate, I have begun my collection, and am planning on having the whole lot AND a subscription by then end of 2010. That's one goal. The other McSweeney's-related goal for 2010 is to submit a short story for inclusion in one of their anthologies. Inspired by the book, I wrote a short story based on one of my dreams from this summer at 4am last week, and am considering it for submission. I also did a drawing (shown) based on this dream which will be featured in January's "Things we've made since September" show curated by Gabrielle Lavin. Stay tuned for opening dates and submission updates.

Thankful

2009-11-30T09:41:00.000-08:00

On my cab ride to 2300 market street today I caught a little NPR on the cabbie's radio and heard a man being interviewed by the dude that assists Terry Gross on Fresh Air. He was talking about "cultivating gratitude" and about the benefits of keeping a "gratitude journal" to remind yourself of all of the wonderful things you have in your life to appreciate. He claimed that keeping a journal like this helps people to recognize good things as they are happening in their lives, and helps them focus on the positives, rather than dwelling on the negatives. (He goes on to claim that people who keep gratitude journals and train themselves to think positively have experienced a decrease in blood pressure by about 10%).

In the spirit of this broadcast, in conjunction with my second-or-third-favorite holiday, I'd like to engage in a little exercise that takes this idea to heart.

#1. My Friends. I have always been lucky in my friends, and always surrounded myself with supportive, generous people who consistently demonstrate their excellence through acts of kindness and witty banter. My friends support me, laugh with me and challenge me, and I believe they have had a better-than-positive effect on my physical and psychological health. Emily keeps my stress levels at a minimum and shares so many interests with me that I rarely have to ask, "do you want to...?". Nicole keeps me creatively motivated and grounded, reminding me of real-time demands and the practicality of my own endeavors. Kristin keeps me smiling, Kathryn keeps me thinking, Jeanette keeps my ideals where they are and Jaimeson keeps me questioning and critiquing (I'm sure he will find this optimistic spiel vomit-inducing). This year, because of Didier, I was able to visit Paris, get my jewelry in a French boutique, and network with tons of international artists and gallerists. This has truly been a year of new opportunities.

#2. My Family. It's far too easy for me to under-appreciate my family. Visiting only 3 or 4 times a year for extended periods of time can make any group seem overwhelmingly insane. My parents and both brothers currently live in the same town, wearing on each others nerves for months on end between my visits, so I usually walk into arguments that have been going on for weeks. Regardless, as uncomfortable as 5 people sitting at a dining room table arguing about one of our cousin's facebook accounts can be, I have a delightful one-on-one relationship with each of the people in my immediate family, and I don't know if many people can say that. My parents have always been a good balance between friend and disciplinarian, they have never imposed their religious or political beliefs on us and always made me feel free to pursue any kind of career and education.

3. My Job. I consider myself extremely lucky to have landed a full-time gig during these rough economic times and try to keep other people in mind when applying for extra classes or hours. Teaching has also allowed for me to learn about the business side of art and craft. Without this teaching experience, I would not have taken my jewelry business as far as it has come. In the winter, I will be taking on an intern to help me with all of the extra work, and for Kathryn and Emily and Jeanette helping me out at Moore, I am extremely grateful. This job has also allowed me enough free time to work on my jewelry, my drawings, and to start painting again. I have learned so much in preparation for classes here. I was not necessarily expecting that when I got the job, but it is a delightful mingling of ideas and information; going from buying at the Mood to teaching at the Art Institute, to making jewelry and drawing and showing my work.

4. My Art. I am lucky in my artistic interests, they keep me busy and entertained. I have yet to get bored with making things, it takes up almost all of my free time, and makes me happy. I am lucky in my varied artistic interests. I need variety to keep me balanced. The book of stories, the illustrated short story, the jewelry, the dolls and the new painting projects have all contributed to what I percieve to be a healthy balance of creative interests. Everything influences everything else, and it all feeds me.

Feel free to post some stories about what you are thankful for. Even if you think it's cheezy, it might lower your blood pressure, or something.

Art is for Nerds

2009-10-09T08:18:00.000-07:00

Recently I received an invitation to join the Bookish project from my fried Stephanie Beck, and since then books just seem to be appearing all mixed in with my art viewing. Text in artwork has made me nervous in the past, and I find, as I get older, I am starting to develop a taste for it. All of the books I have read by Haruki Murakami have fed my imagery and fueled my artistic practices, and even inspired me to take up the pen. My most recent drawings have been inspired by poetry, song lyrics and conversations about theories of existence.
I have been lucky that in recent months I have been exposed to some outstanding works that involve looking at literature not only as an inspirational tool, but also as a building material, a physical medium. Chava has constructed an entire playhouse (would she be offended to hear me call it a playhouse?) about 5 or 6 feet high, comprised entirely of the rolled pages of romance novels. I was instantly tickled when I saw the images of the finished piece. In my imagination, Chava has kept all of the adult-themed sections of the novels in a binder somewhere and only used the boring storyline to construct the awe-inspiring building. I just love the piece. It seems so serious and so time-consuming, and the material takes it to a place that is much more joyful and giggly. I had the pleasure of meeting Daniel Hoffman at Bambi Gallery at First Friday last weekend. We had a great conversation about utilizing new media, teaching, and creating, and when I got home I had the pleasure of attaching a name to some amazing artwork. The giant elephant head protectively hovering over a stack of love-worn books punched me in the heart. It is just the right amount of something I cannot describe.
There are few things I find more potent than the image of stacked books, piled written pages, or notebooks crammed with handwritten text. In high school and college I would frequently fill notebooks with class notes, and intentionally spill out into the margins so that every inch of page was bursting with words. I would fit two lines of text into one barred line of the paper, keeping my lettering small, and my pen pressure hard. I would segment the paper into little boxes or more organic shapes, separating ideas from drawings from the information from lectures. At the end of class, if I was without a friend in the classroom, I would run my fingers over the tortured paper. It was so satisfying to know that I had recorded so much, and at the same time, I couldn't bear to look at the pages again. Studying was a nightmare, pulling out the necessary bits and mining for questions that may or may not appear on final exams.
It was an obsessive habit, and I occasionally find myself falling back into it, sacrificing order for visual pleasure. There are few things I enjoy more than running my fingers over a handwritten page, and feeling the work that I have done.

What I read about when I read about running

2009-09-11T13:25:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading Haruki Murakami's memoir "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running." I finished the book in 3 days. For those of you that know me well, this is a pretty big deal. I was not disappointed.

About a year ago I told Michael Moore (not THAT Michael Moore, a personally influential faculty member at Pafa) that I was interested in creating a book of short stories based off of my bizarre, visually striking dreams (see dream exerpts here), and he suggested that I look at Murakami's work. His books are fantastic, and are a perfect complement to the visual and verbal work that I am doing now. He seamlessly moves from realistic representation to fantasy, and is never predictable or melodramatic. It is all so human. I have read "The Elephant Vanishes" and "After the Quake," and I have many many more books on deck. I was trying to complete my collection while shopping on amazon the other day, and chose "Dance Dance Dance" and "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running," not realizing that it is a memoir, and not a book of short stories.

The exciting part is, I can really relate to his sentiments, and I can apply a lot of his discoveries to my own writing and artistic practices. He talks about running to achieve a meditative state, that the repetitive action creates a blank space in which the mind can find clarity. I respect his discipline and drive. He runs daily for about an hour and participates in one marathon per year. (I only run twice a week if I go to the gym. More if I am angry about something) He also describes his experience with running an ultramarathon (62 miles, sweet jesus). He spends little time talking about the process of writing, but he communicates very clearly the way that this physical practice has has influenced his strength and stamina as a writer.

In one chapter he talks about his bicycle which is inscribed with "18 til I die" the name of a Bryan Adams song. He explains that it is a joke because, "Being 18 til you die means you die when you're 18."

The whole book is written in this simple and honest and human way, explaining what the process of creating is like for Murakami. It is entirely relatable and I finished the book feeling struck by something profound. This 58-year-old man I don't know is supporting me in my actions as an artist. I have NEVER made this kind of an imaginary connection with an author before. He, by way of this book, is allowing me to do whatever I want to do. I feel more now than ever that I can show my work, I can write this book, I can choose to perform a live-action piece, I can become an athlete, and I don't have to choose any one of these things. It was the perfect time for this text in my life. I had been feeling, quite recently, that it has come time for me to focus on one thing and really try to excel at it. But it has become quite clear now that if I would like to excel on my terms, I will have to do all of these things. I am not only a writer, or a painter or a sculptor or a teacher. I am tiny pieces of all of these things in different percentages. I need all of these facets to be the person I am. It's funny how you can realize the same thing multiple times in one lifetime, and it's not for lack of memory. How many times must we be reminded of who we are? Or is it an infrequent occurance in an effort to keep that feeling sacred and special?

I am inspired.

Highly reccommended reading for anyone who writes or makes art. i definitely went for a jog afterward.

The Uniform Project; Gaining Notoriety

2009-08-30T07:54:00.000-07:00

The famous charity and accessorizing blog titled cThe Uniform Project is gaining a little bit of public attention through the Nau Collective and is being considered for their Grant for Change, which would supply Akanksha's School Project with an additional $10,000. (Independently, Sheena Matheiken and Eliza Starbuck have already raised $11,844 for the cause). Vote for their cause on the Nau Collective's website! You can also simply visit their site and donate $ directly, offer to donate accessories, or simply view the site regularly for new and exciting ideas about how to update an existing outfit rather than spend the money on a whole new wardrobe.

Little Somethings

2009-08-21T15:23:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, my work is being featured in the NATURE exhibition in Caladan Gallery online. You can view the exhibition here, which features 3 of my pen drawings. The originals are for sale, and there are limited edition archival prints available of 2 of the pieces.
Additionally, I was googling my name the other day (as many vain people do), and I came across a most flattering blog entry by designer Kathy Davis. Check it out!

Up and Running

2009-07-31T07:40:00.000-07:00

Finally!! The renovations and updates are complete at my website!!! Now you can visit www.gretchendiehl.com for my news updates, my most up-to-date images of my artwork, links to sites of other fantastic artists, and also view my latest revision of my artist's statement and CV/Resume!! I am excited, can you tell?! Anyway, take a moment to review all of the updated awesome and let me know what you think!!

(My site renovations were made possible by otherpeoplespixels.com. Any artist who is interested in designing their own site should totally look into working with them. Mustafa told me about their services, which are totally affordable. You can set up a free trial website, and then pay for it if you like how easy it is to use!!! They make updating and even selling through paypal really simple! Let them know that i referred you and i get a free month! and then you get a free necklace from me! ...or something, we can negotiate!!)

man babies

2009-07-20T19:42:00.000-07:00

I've always been interested in the reasons people have for procreating. At 27, I am undecided as to whether or not children will be in my future, which does not particularly stress me out one way or the other. As a child, I collected Cabbage Patch dolls, and had, like, 50 (no exaggeration). I had a Barbie kitchenette, a kid-sized hutch and doll-sized cradles and strollers taking over my room. I thought that getting married and having children was the only way that becoming an adult would happen, and that unmarried women had some kind of social disorder. Once I started going to college, I started questioning all of the bizarre mommy-training that had been going on throughout my childhood (and almost every other woman's childhood), and have since been quite interested in my biological urges and the extent to which they can be attributed to conditioning. In this situation nurture obviously outweighs nature, but to what extent? When I think of myself as a mother in the future, is it because that is really what I want, or is it only the remnants of this strange doll tradition? When I believe that is not a part of my future, is that really what I want, or is it a backlash against the doll tradition? Who thought of giving little girls facsimiles of babies to play with in the first place?! I think almost every woman has to deal with the assessment of where these urges and counter-urges come from, whether or not it matters, and which ones win out in the end.
At the end of graduate school I started exploring this idea a little more intimately, and created a series of stuffed rabbits with masks of babies faces on them. They came out extra creepy and funny, and I called them the surrogates. I liked the idea that one object can stand in for another, or be a place-keeper for a period of time. The idea was training for motherhood, and the weirdness of that venture; stuffed animals get traded in for dolls, which are then traded in for pets, and eventually babies. We learn over time to make living things dependent on us, and we start to love the feeling of being needed. The second series I was sketching out was a similar idea that involved the idea of blending genes, or keeping a man. I was going to do a series of collages of images of mothers and babies, with and without fathers, where the babies were wearing masks of the father's faces. It was supposed to illustrate the idea of taking some of a man and transferring it onto a dependent new human being. It's a little sick, but sometimes I think it's part of the motivation to procreate.
Well, I never did carry out that collage series, but Emily did show me this amazing website that did what I wanted to do only better. I know they are probably just trying to be creepy and funny, but I think there's something poignant about it. Enjoy Manbabies.

The Uniform Project Revisited

2009-07-17T07:18:00.001-07:00

Sheena Matheiken's brainchild The Uniform Project seems to be garnering lots of support for educational programs in India. The last time I checked, there had been about $250 donated by fans supporting the site, but today that total is over $5,000!!! If you have not checked out The Uniform Project, do so today. It is tons of fun, and an inspiring use of fashion as vehicle of social consciousness. I like anything that makes me feel good about my job.
Also, she featured one of my necklaces (designed by me, drawn by caitlin kuhwald) on Jun 27, 2009.

"Mom, you have way too many hats"

2009-07-15T16:20:00.000-07:00

In an episode of Home Movies where Brendon gets writer's block, Paula attempts to help him get through a most delicate situation with some motherly advice:

Paula: "as someone who has worn the hat of a writer AND the hat of a teacher, I think I can be of assistance"
Brendon: "Mom, you have way too many hats"

When he brings up the issue of writer's block, she tells him "don't get it"
(HEY!! I found a picture of this EXACT moment!!)

At any rate, I am finding that I may, in fact, have WAY too many hats. Last night I had a dream that one of my college professors sat me down and lectured me about committing to achieving my goals and remembering my dreams. Now, anyone who knows me well and who has read my dream journal or my short stories can tell you that my dreams are never so cut and dry, and NEVER so realistic and logical. The only explanation I can come up with is that my sub-conscious is trying to tell me something, and that something is that I am in danger of spreading myself thin creatively. My jewelry business is taking off and becoming a healthy source of extra income, I have been in more gallery exhibitions this year than I was in throughout all of graduate school, I am teaching full-time and using my own personal experience as a retail manager and store buyer as fodder for my ever-adapting fashion marketing classes at AI, I'm working steadily on my book of short stories and I have been making drawings for the 32 page graphic short story I intend to plop in the middle of my first collection. But where is my identity in all of this? I have never wanted to be the type of person who ignores one kind of opportunity because it isn't close enough to exactly-what-I-have-my-master's-degree-in, or the type of person who settles for mediocrity when something outstanding is waiting right around the corner. I love that dissatisfaction is a driving force and that being open to new experiences has gained me some degree of local notoriety. I love the ride. I love not knowing. I love 9. But something here is WRONG.
So, what to do? I can continue on this path of living 4 or 5 separate lives at the same time or I can decide what needs to be focused on. Is this the moment in which I realize that it can't all be done, or do I just need to commit to not sleeping or having a social life? Should I be meditating instead of blogging? UGH.
but enough about me, how are you all doing?

the 10! show

2009-07-09T07:15:00.000-07:00

hi everyone!
real quick, my jewelry is going to be featured during a daily candy segment on the 10! show (local: NBC 10) sometime between 11am and noon today. if you have access to some tv at this time, check it out, and let me know if it was cool- I'll be at the Mood.

A short rant about 9

2009-06-20T10:05:00.000-07:00

When I was in high school I was a very high-strung person, hell-bent on perfection, which I theorized was perfectly achievable, and everyone else in the world must have just been to lazy to get there. I made the connection in more recent years that, at that time in my life, I was forcing myself into too many holes in which I did not fit. Some of the holes were straight A's, being the best dancer in my classes, and being the best artist in my school.
The main hole was religion, cliche as it may be to fade religion. I had a good experience at my particular church and was VERY involved. The other congregates were super-friendly, and at 16, I became the president of the youth group, as well as a kindergarten Sunday School teacher. At night however, I would frequently cry in bed, terrified at the thought of infinity, and equally terrified at the thought of time ending. While weighing out my fears of infinity and finity, I decided that time ending was the much more horrifying reality, and forced myself to become more and more involved in a religion that my mind simply could not believe in. When I got to college and distanced myself from the church, I slowly realized my stress and anxiety were melting away. I don't think that religion in general is a bad choice for all people, or even that it was bad for me, but I do think that forcing myself to believe in something that I could not, or forcing myself to "be something I am not" was causing all kinds of fears and stressors to surface. Losing "God" was initially horrifying, until I realized that I wasn't losing anything. If I don't truly believe in it, I am wasting time and energy on upsetting myself. It was simply not logical.
That was the first major sigh of relief in my personal philosophies.
The second actually came at the end of my graduate program at Pafa. While writing my thesis I had to flesh out my working methods, and try to come up with the inspirational force behind what I am driven to do on a daily basis. I would suggest that everyone do this at some point, or at various points in their lives. In finding my direction, I actually loosened my grip on the concrete endpoint I had in sight for the way my life would be in the future. In writing about what I wanted for myself, I began to realized that it was a forked and windy road, and at 24, i would not be able to see the end of it, and that is beautiful. Christ, who wants to know exactly what is going to happen to them in the future? It would be dreadful.
I realized, through writing my thesis that I had a distaste for photorealism. If you are going to spend 1000 hours painting something and it is going to look exactly like a photograph, why don't you just take a photograph? That version of "perfection" actually put me off a little.
I noticed a trend:
- I like to get a 96% on a test better than a 100%. a 100% just implies that the test was easy.
- I've always liked silver better than gold.
- I like my own drawings best when something is a little weird. You know, like, someone doesn't have anatomically correct elbows or something. My drawings are absolutely the best when you can tell something is awkward, but you cannot identify what that is.
The conclusion: I love near perfection. On a scale of 1 to 10, I love 9.
Aesthetically it is the prettiest #. In numerology it is like, the top thing you can do. In spoken German, it means "no" which I love to say.
I've talked to people about 9 before, and Emily had heard about it a lot. Today she sent me an email that inspired this post:
"im working at the pma right now, writing a lesson about super heroes. im reading this article about the xmen, and it says that they "challenge us to accept the beauty of difference, the libetration of imperfection." that reminded me of you, you know, like 9. so liberating." I am totally flattered that Xmen made Em think of me.
If you live your whole life trying to be 10, you can miss out on all of the wonderful things that make you a human being. You might never get drunk and embarrass yourself, you might never let anyone get to know your hilarious flaws. If you content yourself with 9, you can always be striving, growing, knowing there is something more you can make of yourself, never plateauing, and still never regretting. 9 is bliss. It's an A-, and I have become comfortable with not being valedictorian.

Hard Pressed. (ehhhhh....)

2009-06-08T04:39:00.000-07:00

I have been really lucky recently in my press coverage, and i just wanted to share a few links with everyone. All of this positive press is in response to my jewelry designs which are available at BirdQueen.etsy.com, as well as 9 stores in the greater Philadelphia area (see listing below).
During the ArtStar Craft Bazaar, which served up beautiful weather and live music, 215 Magazine was around photographing vendors and their interesting items. Today I am featured in Daily Candy, which I am SUPER-PUMPED about; they feature some of the most interesting and creative goodies on their blog, and I am so honored that they took notice of my fledgling business.
Laura Draper wrote up a lovely piece about my jewelry, my artwork, and my professional double-life in the Philadelphia Examiner. Lastly, after Emily G bought a pair of my earrings at the Trenton Ave Arts Festival, she featured them in a blog about the big bike race on PW blogs.
Keep an eye out, too for The Uniform Project, I will be posting a little something when Sheena wears Caitlin Kuhwald's Owley necklace.

Shops that currently carry my jewelry:
Arcadia Boutique: 819 N 2nd Street, Philadelphia, PA
Arts+Plus Gallery: 704 Haddon Ave., Collingswood, NJ
Bambi Gallery: 1001-13 N. 2nd Street, Philadelphia, PA
Bohema Consignmen t: 6152 Ridge Ave., Philadelphia, PA
The Fashion Center: 16th and South Streets, Philadelphia, PA
Mew Gallery: 906 Christian St., Philadelphia, PA
The Point Store: Old Vilalge Road, Chadds Ford, PA
Tselaine's: 1927 Walnut Street, Philadelphia, PA
WILBUR: 716 S. 4th Street, Philadelphia, PA

The Uniform Project

2009-06-03T20:09:00.000-07:00

Christine Finckenor recently sent me a link to a very interesting website that I have to share...

Sheena Matheiken of Brooklyn, NY has pledged to wear what amounts to the same thing for a year to support the Akanksha Project, a grassroots education initiative in Mumbai that helps young people stay in school while supporting improvements in education in general. She calls this The Uniform Project.
In Sheena's "What's this all about?" section on her site she describes what is behind her seemingly unsanitary practice:

"Starting May 2009, I have pledged to wear one dress for one year as an exercise in sustainable fashion. Here’s how it works: There are 7 identical dresses, one for each day of the week. Every day I will reinvent the dress with layers, accessories and all kinds of accoutrements, the majority of which will be vintage, hand-made, or hand-me-down goodies. Think of it as a daily uniform with enough creative license to make it look like I just crawled out of the Marquis de Sade's boudoir.

The Uniform Project is also a year-long fundraiser for the Akanksha Foundation, a grassroots movement that is revolutionizing education in India. At the end of the year, all contributions will go toward Akanksha’s School Project to fund uniforms and other educational expenses for slum children in India."

Anyway, visit her site and get inspired. You can participate by contacting Sheena to donate personally designed or hand-me-down accessories to help fuel her creativity, or you can donate funds to the cause. Sheena herself has agreed to contribute $1 per day on top of the work she is already doing to draw attention to this important cause.

I contacted Sheena a couple of days ago and she has agreed to take one of my necklaces, giving props to my jewelry design, as well as the beautiful illustration work of Caitlin Kuhwald. I'll mos def let you guys know when she sports it on the site!!!

So join in and check it out, I find it truly refreshing!

The Spirit

2009-06-02T18:49:00.000-07:00

I got a chance to see The Spirit, Frank Miller's adaptation of the Will Eisner comic last night, and it is thus far my favorite of the Frank Miller comic book adaptations. Or maybe I was just really prepared for all of the cheesy this time around.
I got to see the Miller/ Rodriguez adaptation of Miller's Sin City, and the Zach Snyder adaptation of Miller's 300 in that order over the past couple of years. I had thought, until I imdb'd the shit outta these films, that they were all directed by the same person and all written by Frank Miller. I guess I should pay more attention, but I will still compare and contrast the 3 films, as if they are sisters.
Sin City was great the first couple of times that I watched it, and there were definitely some haunting and creatively disturbing moments throughout, but the movie as a whole was dripping with too much drama. Parts of the film were so high-key and overemotional that it becomes uncomfortable to watch. I will always love Bruce Willis's performance, and some of the scenes are really artistically rendered. Miller's use of white is just so striking, and it really translates well to the big screen (see image of Mickey Rourke with totally badass band-aides to the left). Also that famous image of Marv sinking in the tar pit- completely badass.
The nice thing about The Spirit was that it incorporated a lot of that same beauty and high-contrast imagery without the melodrama. I think some people disliked it or critiqued it for being silly, but I think that is the right solution to these films. I would much rather that a film be silly-funny than painfully, awkwardly, unintentionally funny.
...Like the 300. Man, am I the only person on this planet that totally hated that movie? It sure took itself seriously. I just can't get on board with all the drama. The rock-music-slow-motion-kick-a-guy-into-a-huge-pit-garbage destroys anything beautiful in the film. Then the scene where that kid gets his head chopped off, but you can't really react to it or have any feelings about it because it is filmed in such ridiculous slow motion that you see it coming from 45 miles away. And, holy crap, that sex scene has GOT TO GO. Now, I am all about a well-done sex scene, but don't tease me with implied-sex tastefullness and then punch me in the face with royal doggy-style. I mean, seriously.
And don't get me wrong, The Spirit started like every other shitty superhero movie, with a 15 minute explanation as to how the hero's city is "like a woman, and i am her guardian, and she is not proud, but she needs me and I need her, and I live inside her, and she is a woman, like I said..." and on and on and on. But there is a grain of salt. Right there.
Samuel L Jackson does an amazing job of being an over-the-top super villian. The first fight scene between the Octopus (Samuel L) and the Spirit occurs in a giant mud puddle and involves all kinds of hilarious props like a huge anchor, the head of a dead guy, and a toilet. His costumes are many and various, full of fur coats and paste-on sideburns. Also, you get to see Eva Mendez's ass. That thing defies gravity.

Beautiful?

2009-05-29T15:29:00.000-07:00

I was walking home on Bainbridge today when I saw a little object on the sidewalk in front of me. It looked like one of those smooth, translucent yellowish-white pebbles that you find in a body of water, but as i got closer, realized it was a tiny plastic fetal bird. I had seen a similar object at Seraphin Gallery at Hiro Sakaguchi's "My Dog Speaks" exhibition (Cheap, by Darla Jackson, shown left). I crouched down to look at the object more closely, and started to really admire the craftsmanship of the piece. Its large, black, perfectly spherical eyes were veiled with a cloudy layer of wax that perfectly mimicked developing eyelids. A deep red object was embedded in the bird's chest. So many layers of what appeared to be milky wax built up the flesh and sinew of the baby bird. The beak seemed to be made out of an entirely different material- opaque and hard and bright yellow. When I noticed that there were 2 tiny abrasions on the bird's perfect skin (which shone only slightly red for lack of a complete cardiovascular system), I thought of the possibility of this bird being real, but there was no setting or crime scene. The little corpse was alone on the sidewalk. There was no shattered egg or fallen nest. It had to be fake. Someone's sociology experiment or just a sick little art kid joke.
I had to move him. If he was fake, I could put him in the trash, if he was real, I needed to think of something else. I could not bear the thought of someone stepping on him.
Luckily, there was a bag of paper recyclables next to the body, and I found an empty Claritin box. With the help of a receipt from my purse, I rolled the little friend into the box. As he limply flopped into the box, I realized it was entirely real. I don't recall ever holding anything dead in my life, but you definitely know when you are. There is nothing there but cold weight.
I carried him in the Claritin box for a few blocks, trying to decide if I should be upset or confused, trying to understand if it was possible that this little creature could have gotten to where he was, in the condition he was in. I found a garden box that had no flowers planted in it and i picked up a stick and started to carve a deep, tiny hole with my right hand, holding the box in my left (which was developing a cold spot in the middle of my palm through the thin cardboard where the bird was lying). I tried to pour him gracefully into the hole, but he flopped in a tiny heap. I tried to imagine that the cool soil felt good on his skin as i packed it tightly around him. The soil, at least, felt good on my hands. I walked with the Claritin box for about 6 blocks, as Bainbridge is not particularly rich with trash cans.
It is weird to shift from objectifying something to realizing it is or was a living thing. I had enjoyed this creature's skin and transparent layers so much when I thought it was a fabrication. It punched me in the gut to realize my folly.

An interesting aside; the first sentence of my horoscope for today reads:
"Your life is complicated by your ability to see the truth, especially when this awareness makes it impossible to keep up superficial appearances."
Beautiful.

Neko Case Live in Concert

2009-05-28T08:21:00.000-07:00

Apparently Neko just couldn't get enough of Philly and is comin' back for more in July!! If anyone is a fan and has not seen Neko perform live, you should really make it a priority to see her. She is natural and engaging with her audience, and manages to always sound even better than her albums during performances. I have seen her at the Trocadero and at the Keswick, and was absolutely blown away both times.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with Neko's work, check out the video in this post.
Concert details:
WXPN welcomes Neko Case, the fiery singer-songwriter touring in support of her hugely successful new album, Middle Cyclone to the Kimmel Center's Verizon Hall on Wed., Jul. 29 at 8pm. SPIN Magazine gives it a 9-out-of-10 and The New Yorker calls it "the best album of her career." This new release follows her hugely-acclaimed Fox Confessor Brings the Flood. Also appearing is Jason Lytle of Grandaddy. Produced by AEG Live & Kimmel Center Presents.
(Honestly, I think I still like Fox Confessor the most of all of her albums, but each one is a tiny jewel wrapped in a beautiful silk brocade of delectably human moments, wrapped in a burrito of interesting metaphors).
GO SEE HER.

Chick Habit/ Laisse Tomber Les Filles

2009-05-25T15:08:00.000-07:00

On Cheerleading, Acting, and Early Romances

2009-05-25T08:12:00.000-07:00

My new roommate, Nicole has been raving about a movie from 1999 called "But I'm a Cheerleader," which initially sounded truly awful. We were supposed to wait until Nicole got her copy back from a friend to watch it, but we both became impatient and rented it from TLA. We've watched it twice already, and it isn't due back until Tuesday, so i think we have a good 2 or 3 more views left in us. At any rate, it was really charming, and I only tried to hide my tears at the end because Nicole wasn't obviously crying. Turns out she was doing the same, even though she has seen the movie 106 times.
The premise is that a 17ish blonde cheerleader who believes herself to be straight, gets shipped off to a gay-be-gone camp called "True Directions" by her friends and family who have become concerned with her vegetarian lifestyle and Melissa Ethridge posters. The main male camp counselor is a "former gay"and wears a series of hilarious t-shirts, one of which reads, "Straight is Great," as he continually, lustfully eyes the camp directors son, Rock.
It is one of those movies where the acting gets more convincing as the film progresses, and it makes me wonder if that is some kind of film formula, or if it is the natural result of the actors and actresses getting more into character over the months and months of filming (assuming that the movie was shot in sequence). It would make sense, if you are trying to win over an audience, to lower their expectations at the beginning of the movie, and strengthen the characters as the plot progresses.
And, yes, that is RuPaul out of drag.
The painfully fantastic soundtrack didn't really help matters when it came to crying, either. "Glass Vase Cello Case" by Tattle Tale killed me a little. It takes me back to college days where boys would play that kind of music with the desperate hope that it would inspire a girl to put out. That IS a tip, by the way, to any late-teen, early-twenty-somethings reading this: add this to your "bring a girl home" playlist on your itunes. I can't promise results, but you can bet a girl will call you "sensitive" when gossiping to her girlfriends the morning after.

The video is absolute garbage, but I wanted you to hear the song, so deal.
Other freaking phenomenal songs on the soundtrack include:
April March- Chick Habit** (my fav)
Funnel of Love- Wanda Jackson
We're in the City- Saint Etienne
If you should try and Kiss Her- Dressy Bessy
Clea DuVall is truly fantastic. Her character starts out a little 2-dimensional and her beauty slowly emerges as the movie goes on. I've always liked it when a movie can make you fall for someone that you don't find particularly attractive in the beginning (think of Peter Gibbons in Office Space- he just gets exponentially sexier for the entire 89 minutes of the movie). I think it mirrors real-life love-interests in that you can become more and more physically attracted to a person as you learn more things about them that you like or are impressed by.

Support the Arts!!!

2009-05-13T16:57:00.000-07:00

Stephanie Beck sent out a mass email today and i followed the link and sent a message to our state rep and legislator about the issue at hand; depriving Pennsylvania Art Students and Artists of important grants and funding opportunities.
IT WAS SUPER-EASY.
please take a moment to check out Stephanie's email below, and follow the link to support the Arts in Pennsylvania:

(May 6, 2009) - This afternoon, the Pennsylvania Senate passed its version of the FY 2010 state budget (SB 850) with a 30-20 vote. The bill, introduced on May 4, eliminates all arts and culture grants in the state through the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts (PCA) and the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission (PHMC).

It still has to go through the House of Rep., so there is still time. https://www.philaculture.org/action/hottopics/2875/save-arts-cultural-funding-pennsylvania

Thanks!
Stephanie

2009-05-09T06:24:00.000-07:00

"My Dog Speaks" Animal Narrative in Contemporary Art, as curated by Hiro Sakaguchi featuring work by:
Alina Josan & Amanda Miller, Anne Canfield, Bonnie Brenda Scott, Nancy Sophy, Caroline Picard, Darla Jackson, Erci McDade, John Karpinski, Laura McKinley, Sarah McEneaney, Sherif Habashi, and Caitlin Emma Perkins.
Opens at Seraphin Gallery at 1108 Pine Street in Philadelphia TONIGHT from 6pm- 8pm.
I will not be able to attend, as i will be selling my jewelry at Arts+Plus Gallery in Collingswood, NJ from 5pm-9pm, but if you are in Philadelphia for the evening, stop by the opening before hitting up the bar. I took a peek inside yesterday after the Pafa ASE opening, and was overwhelmed. It is just fantastic. I am so jeal that I am not in this show, but it is SO COOL, i am promoting it without any prior affiliation. Just love, for all of that awesome.

Time to Blog, Baby

2009-05-09T06:16:00.000-07:00

This is my first blog entry! ever! I know you're all so proud of me. I have decided that I will use this space to promote my own art exhibitions and events, as well as other awesome goings-on in the Philadelphia area and around the world.
Thanks for taking the time to check out my new space!
best,
the BirdQueen

birdqueen designs
artwork by gretchen diehl