Sunday, January 31, 2010


sometimes things are harder than you thought, even when you thought it would be hard in the first place.

or do we just make things harder than they should be?

oh the questions

Friday, January 29, 2010

can you hear me major tom?

One day I made blueberry muffins.


and then I realized how completely awesome the inside of a muffin looks! Especially blueberry :)
It makes me think of the Whos in Whoville from the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. I learned this year that they all live on a single snowflake, and it makes me think of an ant hill. So combining those two thoughts... did I eat a village of people? I mean look at those deep caverns and round windows and looking holes. I dunno.
What if we live on a muffin? I wonder if we'd be a chicken flavored muffin...since everything seems to taste like chicken.



Then came this delicate beauty. so soft. I want it to be huge so I can lay on it. No. I want to be tiny so that I can lay on it.

Usually when I finish gouacheing something, I don't just wash out the leftovers...I do something in my sketchbook. So one day after working on fashion sketches (which I should be doing now..but am not) I did this.




AND today I decided to take a break from homework and went to open model instead.
I learned that even though I am continuously taught to do a gesture of the overall composition then work back into it-fixing and adding and fixing and subtracting and adding and blahh. I can't do that. Or works better for me to kind of draw as I go and compare sections to other sections- proportions-placement-shape-ect.




Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Friday, January 22, 2010

Grizzly Man

Today in Anthropology we watched the documentary "Grizzly Man." If you haven't seen it. You should. It's about this guy Timothy Treadwell who would go to this reserve in Alaska during the spring and summer months and live, unarmed, with the bears. He did this for 13 years without being harmed! And for the last few years he brought his video camera. But one summer he decided to stay later into the fall and was killed by an older aggressive bear that he was not use to (all of "his" bears had gone into hibernation.)

There was a lot of speculation that he's just a crazy man.

I don't think he was crazy.

He admitted that he'd had an alcohol problem and nothing was working to help him quit. A friend of his mentioned that he'd had a near fatal overdose.

At some point he found this reserve in Alaska and knew that his purpose was to "protect the bears." He quit drinking...

Now, although he never really "helped" the bears, and most people think he actually harmed them by getting them accustomed to people...I don't think that really matters. I mean, even thought he always said that he was there FOR the bears...I think he was there for himself.
and that's okay.

I think that some people are just not made for "society." And that's perfectly fine, especially because our American society is really... dirty and corrupt some(a lot of the)times. I feel like when people try to force themselves into it...that's when they face these "psychological" problems. I mean, I'm not saying that there is no such thing as chemical imbalances/mental disorders.
But, I don't think that putting Timothy in therapy and giving him some anti depressants would have helped him to feel okay with himself and in society.

I believe what Timothy had was passion. He LOVED the animals, as he stated many times. They were his passion, they were where he felt comfortable and accepted. And I feel like when someone becomes so invested in their passion, they start to lose sight of those "boundaries" or "social boundaries" (or restrictions or...some other adjective that explains what i'm going for), that they may have seen or had when they first were introduced to this passion. BUT THAT'S OKAY. That's also when they become different than all of us. They see things differently. They FEEL things differently. They react to things differently. And that's when, depending on the passion, everyone else thinks they are "crazy." And sometimes, the people with the passion, cant understand why everyone else DOESN'T GET IT!



I found this poem.

"When you are inspired
by some great purpose,
some extraordinary project,
all your thoughts break their bonds;
your mind transcends limitations,
your consciousness expands
in every direction,
and you find yourself
in a new, great and wonderful world.
Dormant forces, faculties and talents
become alive,
and you discover yourself
to be a greater person by far
than you ever dreamed yourself to be.”


Monday, January 18, 2010


I brought my homework into the woods today. It's very easy to lose track of time in there. It's also easy to physically lose yourself in there too. Unless you have a compass, a good sense of direction or a trail. I only had the latter. But it seems that when you are lost psychologically, the woods are a great place to find yourself.

It's calming and comforting (except for the sounds of boats, cars, and other trail roamers...although it was really nice to hear the kids shout out things. They led me to find some nice clay at one point.)
But, the sense of being totally alone and totally outside-it does something.

As I walked around I was keeping my eye out for little inviting spaces for me to sit and read. These spaces seemed to call out to me almost. (yeah so what if that sounds silly) It's like when I saw them, I knew it was my turn to occupy that space. ANYWAY. At one point I was sitting behind this tree that sprouted into two at the base. At another point, after reading for a while I looked up to my right to see a single spiders web strand going almost perpendicular to me. That was NOT there when I sat down.

So, I got up and walked more. I got so into looking at the guts of the trees where either woodpeckers got to, or limbs were torn off on the LEFT side of the trail that I never noticed how different and empty (the point of it is that it was shockingly different) the right side of the trail was until I was turned around. Kind of makes me think about that in relation to life.

So I walked further. On the Left side of the trail I came upon this sort of C shape and on the hump side of the C shape was this tree that was all twisty and had grown to the ground then up again. The hump of the C shape was about 5 yards from the trail. The tree said to me "come, sit, please." At first I was kind of like.. "poo snakes" but then in the same second I went anyway.
AND WHAT DO YOU THINK I FOUND!? The tree gave me a present! He said "thank you Jamie for listening." He gave me an almost clean-not very stinky-and actually very beautiful opossum skull! Then looking further I found a jaw, some vertebrae, pelvic bones, leg bones, and some weird flat bone! YAY! They were all spread apart though. Poor little guy. He's getting a clean bleach job as we speak. I didn't end up going sit on that tree though. It had poop on the only sitable spot.


I realized too that I'm actually less scared of snakes than I am of spiders. Later in my day I came to the river. I'd always liked this spot of the trail. There's a large tree that's knocked down, but it has all of these long vine-like roots and limbs. It's really cool because last time I was there you could see his pink guts. This time instead of looking for his guts I wanted to climb him. Especially because I saw that in the river were PELICANS! Once I climbed up I watched these 5 or so pelicans do the most funny thing that I wish I could do. (They were actually looking for food) But it made me laugh and smile. SYNCHRONIZED they would all fly up, glide over the water for a bit, flap their wings to get height, glide, then DIVE down and PLUNGE into the water...then pop right back up like a buoy. It was so great. So VERY great.

Then I walked more and found another passage to the shore. I thought I was all cool for finding this mysterious hide away. Then I heard a kid and his mom looking for deer tracks..and I noticed that later on the trail led right to where I was. Ohhh well.

I realized, while driving home, that one should never go into a situation with expectations. I feel like preconceptions and expectations kill the moment and puts a stigma on the situation. Where as if you go into it with NO expectations, no matter what you get out of it, you are surprised, and you got something and you don't know... or don't know to think about what you didn't get. I use to think, at some points in life, that going into situations with negative expectations and preconceptions would yield better results. My logic was that anything you get that is better than what you are GREAT! and if things are shitty..well... "I told you so."
Bad move. Because that constant thought of badness lingering over you...will bring that doom. I mean, think happy thoughts get happy results-think bad thoughts you stay in the shitter.
1+1=2 Okay so maybe it's not that easy. But. It makes sense. And..who says 1+1 cant =3.

Anyway. One of the articles I had to read for Fibers was about "organic fibers" actually all the articles I read are about organic-itizing things. BUT it made me think...even though there's a huge awareness now about doing things "organically" ..everything is becoming so completely ARTIFICIAL. fiber wise. food wise. everything-wise.
Which then made me think of holidays.
and then I stopped thinking about that and kept walking.

I found a piece of soaked bark. It was crumbly and mooshy to the touch. It made me wonder if fibers (for clothes) are made out of wood pulp. Then later I read another article and it answered my question! They make cellulose synthetics out of woodpulp.

Thursday, January 7, 2010


I found something that kind of describes me.

All sidewalks end, eventually

Who yields respect for the man who is stopped in his tracks?
The man who stands at the crossroads with nary a plan?
The same man who is willing to trek, to reach his perplexed end.
He who took the steps, led by his own thoughts, yet to be professed.
And whilst he stands still, time does not, he remains hopelessly caught.
The dilemma, the magnitude of possibility, confusing his entire entity.
The state of being, being confused, being confused by further questioning.
Of course, he is compelled to decide, both decisions beckon him to their side.
All the while, his guile, being undermined, as if he cannot decide.
For this isn't a question of judgement, or problem solving.
But rather, a question of attraction. because in this brief instance,
slams the whole of life, the deeper understanding, the life lesson;
Take one step one direction, take one step away from the opposite direction.
The snowball gains girth in its perpetual motion.
If this is true, then why, ever, would anyone settle for grey?
In a world of extremes, in a forked road, there is no middle, or is there?
Originality gleams clear through the veil of delusion;
well, that must be it, to make your own passage.
But, then, an old friend reminds us of the end at hand;
if taking one step one direction, means stepping astray from the other,
then taking a step my own way, means I am truly lost, lost from convention.
And, then, one path would be befriended. Who would I find at my end?
The logic that stems;
You can only be ally to one half of the world, enemy to the other half.
For enemies, i would like it to be the fools, but fools is so subjective,
even under my umbrella of the word, I might fall under its shade.
And for friend, I have only the unknown, the dark, the black.
A place, where i might, still, fall under the shade of umbrella, I risk being a fool to myself;
perhaps, even an enemy, and what would that leave me?
And still, my dilemma never ends, and still, here I am;
with only the sun, as an allegory.