* oops stand by for video documentation-- home computer wont upload!*

mobile studio

Now that the pack is complete-- with brushes, dyes, chalks, stencils, and seed bombs-- it was time to use it! After all, you can only say so much about a project that can exist only in motion before it's been thrown into motion.

Katie and I braved the cold, rainy weather to plant seed bombs and make our art. 
We relied mostly on the mud-mix, the moss-paint for most surfaces, and the turmeric mix and clay mix for darker, brick wall surfaces.
We used all the stencils and used our own hands to finger-paint primitive images of human hunters and animals.
We marked outside of the FAB, outside Parker, and made a mural on the walls by these stairs near the SUB that are pretty known for waves of random graffiti.

It was surprising that almost no one gave any indication of noticing what we were doing. Or even questioned the fact that we were in a way vandalizing... however temporarily.
The fire inspector however at least did a double take-- which was funny cuz he totally should recognize me and katie, as we both had our troubles with him this semester. (katie for having taxidermy stuff, me for the location of my entire studio space). But, Katie and I didn't want to reallyyy ask him his opinion so we scooted away before he could say anything.

Makes me wonder what people are thinking as they see these paintings. We're making an obvious reference to street graffiti and highlighting the parallel between the primitive and contemporary world. The idea was that we were making a sort of gentle reminder of our closeness to nature, even being in an urban setting.

mobile studio

Turns out... I really didn't have time to think about constructing a propane forge. My mind was plagued by my independent  study in puppetmaking with the Theater Dept., I could not conceive halting in order to make a studio I knew I wasn't going to use or have fun trying to pull together.
I was disappointed in myself for not being able to take the opportunity to make something really tangible for this class, but I came up with a quicker and more exciting idea to replace it.

Since highschool, I've kept this little book called The Guerilla Art Kit, a how-to book on crafts related to graffiti and such street art. I read through it a lot, but never really allowed myself to actually take the time to do the little crafts. With big sculpture projects and papers to write all the time, taking the time to do a stupid little craft can make me feel pretty guilty. But now the time seemed opportune...

...to make a guerilla art backpack!
for street art on the go!

I was talking to Katie about all my work anxiety and how I was going to change my mobile studio project even though it seemed late in the game, and it turned out she was struggling to keep afloat too. So, we decided to work together on this street art pack to keep the anxiety down and get more work done faster. We would make our art pack earth-based, like how our own independent sculpture is (katie works in taxidermy, I work in plant-like and animal forms), but more literal instead of representational.


Our street art backpack includes stencils with images taken from ancient cave art, "paints" made from vegetables and clays, clay and charcoal drawing chalks, and seed bombs (a seed pack to plant in corporate gardens).
Let the gardening anarchy begin!

mobile studio

So originally, I read the assignment of making a mobile studio as almost a pure utilitarian project. Because of this, it was hard to come up with something that I actually wanted to make.
Why would I want to make a mobile studio when I had a really good one right in front of me? I scrounged around for some kind of craft that I knew I couldn't do within the walls of the Sculpture Department.
I thought of blacksmithing, and how sculpture only has oxy-acetylene  torches and some abandoned coal forges. I thought it'd be nice to make a propane box forge. And then might as well fix up my stick welder. And then might as well put everything on wheels to make it mobile.
Project done? ....

gen. art nearing completion

Luckily, I didn't have to present my book the first critique day. I didnt have as many entries as I would've liked because someone moved my book to the lost and found!
So lame because I was banking on Sunday being a busy day with people cramming for Midterms. But now I have a few more days to gather more entries. I decided to place it in the women's bathrooms of the FAB for some variety, switching rooms every day and a half or so.

It's crazy, I made it so that people would feel like they weren't alone in the their problems. And its like... damn we really do all have the same problems.
It's kind of amazing how we create these boundaries. For what reason?

gen. project pretty much finished

And now I understand my dilema with generosity art.

I have terrible stage fright.

Suddenly, a new idea unfolded. I could go back to my first idea with my original intentions but do it more anonymously.

I bought a notebook, stickers, and markers. I wrote a few things, stuck classic female nude paintings stickers, and laid it open on the table in the ladies' bathroom.

It invites the reader to look it over, and if she chooses, write down anything she feels her brain needs to release. Anything and everything. Drawings, words, photos.

gen. project. in process... still

So... running out of time and desperation for a bright idea spun me off into a deep-angled tangent.

I remembered this guy in Elmwood, Buffalo who would blow bubbles out his 3rd floor apartment window onto one of the the busy artsy streets. "Look the bubble guy!" This dude even made it into the papers. It was pretty cool, his window was overlooking a busy street corner, so when people waited at the light, they watched the bubbles. He was there like every time I went through that intersection. I think he had like post-traumatic war syndrome or something.. But somehow it was like he was enjoying something that most of us only remember enjoying.

And then I noticed that I lived in the same situation. Well, not the post-traumatic thing. But my window juts out over Main St. in New Paltz. And so, I was compelled to blow bubbles.

I did only 2 sessions. One half a hour, and the other a hour and a half. There were surprising little difficulties. It was difficult to accumulate a happy amount of bubbles before they popped, and I had to work fast. Sometimes the wind would pop them immediately, or they would blow back into the room. And after a while my back would hurt from crouching by the window.

I got a number of different reactions. Some people looked with real disdain, it felt like. I might've been making it up. But they didn't look happy. I wondered if they thought I was high or mentally handicapped. Or maybe they just were spacing out, already accepting the bubbles as an inherent part of the landscape of New Paltz.
Some people called my attention. Guys from a car yelling "yo bubbles!! yo bubbles girl!" And a few of my friends who knew it was my window-- "stop blowin dem bubbles tine!"

One guy seemed to have trouble finding the source of the bubbles from his car, looking all around. When he found my window, he looked with this curiosity that I've only seen expressed in movies. One girl was sitting in the backseat of a taxi. She was watching them with such a warm, distant expression. What was she thinking about?
The best was when I discovered 2 little girls dancing and jumping for bubbles on the sidewalk below me.

So, the bubble thing was real fun, and I thought I could make a documentary type movie of the whole project.

But then, I just didn't want to anymore.
Once again, I found myself really resistant to interacting with people.