Flying to Toronto tonight and as usual I could not sleep the night before. I have no idea why my body does this every time I fly.
I can’t wait to get in my seat and pass the fuck out, then wake up with the city lights outside the window.
See you tonight, Toronto!
I’m gonna be in your town June 17-23 to see Marina Abramovic speak at the Luminato Festival and to check out your cutie patooties.
This will be my first time in Canada, and I’m totes excited. Let’s meet, greet, see some art, talk politics and metaphysics, maybe make out, and be cute together!
If anyone knows of any other events, exhibits, queer parties, gatherings, and the like, please let me know!
This is considered the largest wooden structure in the world, last time I checked. It’s in Sevilla, about 30 mins from Rota, a small village where I was stationed with the US Navy in Spain for 3.5 years.
I went to my storage unit today and pulled out a bunch of Polaroids which I’m installing and selling for 2nd Friday at the Greenhouse. A lot of the photos are from my time in Europe, and I got nostalgic for that period in my life.
There was an innocence about that time. I was blessed with youth and a paycheck twice a month. I traveled anywhere in Europe as I pleased. If I wanted to go to London for the weekend, I could. I visited Paris and Barcelona at least 4 times each. The friends I kept around me were wonderful and supportive, for the most part, and also loved to travel.
Nevertheless, there was a prying dissatisfaction, knowing I wasn’t supposed to be there in the military, that every fiber of my being was telling me I needed to be making art and being around more like-minded people. It felt suffocating. The first quarter of 2011 was a long waiting game for my separation on May of that year.
During my last year in the military (and consequently, my last year in Spain), I took on a project in which I photographed my life with Polaroid cameras. I called it Placer Instantáneo (Instant Pleasure). Each day I designated a Polaroid photo for that day. Today, I went through some of those photos, looking at a life I lived so long ago. It feels like a lifetime has passed. I’m not that person anymore. I still have similar hopes, dreams, but I’m much more affirmed of my place in life. Though times are harder now (I rarely travel, as I’m just barely getting by with rent and food and art supplies), I’m much more confident in my skin, I feel much better supported and loved by family, friends and lovers, and so much happier in every sense.
Been playing around with potential iPhone cases, and possibly selling my work like so.
About a year ago, I left my little town of Rota, Spain, where I lived for over 3 years.
I can’t believe a year has already passed. I am so thankful to have gotten the chance to live overseas, learn and live in a different culture, and meet such amazing people. Living in Spain was truly living each day to the fullest. The days were long and open to be enjoyed, with work only a distant necessity for living.
Granted, I was in a position of privilege, working for the US Navy, an occupying foreign force in the country, so my experience was a bit skewed. Spain (especially the province of Andalucia where I lived) is still plagued with unemployment, economic, and political unrest. But the friends I made, and the lifestyle I encountered and surrounded myself with always seemed to see the better, easier side of life. Even with all of life’s negativities, you’re still alive, there’s still the sun, and the beach. When you live that close to the water, I think the social attitude just changes.
I can honestly say that Spain has changed me, even now a year after leaving the country.
Kiam Marcelo Junio
Puerto Vallarta, Mexico (2007)
If you can afford it.
Malia Jensen, Salty (2011)
From The Porland Mercury:
Elizabeth Leach’s 30th anniversary continues with a continuation of their group show The Shape of the Problem, and sculptor Malia Jensen presents a new video work, Salty, in which she gave a herd of cows a salt lick in the shape of a human breast, and documented the results.
I saw this exhibit at the Elizabeth Leach Gallery in Porland, OR this weekend. It was part of a larger group show called “The Shape of the Problem II.” Salty was separated in its own space.
Salty is set up to include a photo series, a video, and the actual breast sculptures made of salt. I chose to go around and see the photos first, then the sculptures, and finally watch the video.
The photographs were divided in a series with the following titles: “Once Upon a Time in the West,” “Western Scene,” and “High Noon.” Jensen aims to evoke images of Western films and the pioneering imagery of the “Manifest Destiny” era of American history.
The photos depict pastoral scenes that showed the cows grazing. Much like paintings of wild horses, or a herd of buffalo in the Wild West era, the cows had a beauty in their group formations, and in their natural setting. However, this was upset by the appearance of tags on their ears, an obvious imagery of our human dominion.
As found on Wikipedia, salt licks (or mineral licks) are natural formations or deposits of salt and other minerals, which animals consume (or lick) to obtain minerals they need, but may otherwise not have access to with their normal diet.
The sculptures themselves were made of salt, but appeared much more durable, almost marble-like in their smoothness. The sculptures presented were the actual salt licks used in the video, and it is evident by the appearance of dirt on the sides. Some of the breasts were more worn than the others, less defined in the nipple area.
The sculptures seem to refer to Classical Greek sculptures of goddesses, though severed from the rest of the body. Perhaps this is a commentary on the cows themselves, and their common fate of being chopped into a hundred pieces for human consumption. In the video, rather, it is the chopped-off human form which the cows consume.
This commentary via role-reversal is made more evident when one watches the video projection. Unlike the photo series, which bring a sense of pastoral pleasure, the video is disconcerting. It begins with the artist driving up to the herd and placing one of the salt licks on the ground. At first, the cows pay it no mind, but soon become curious. After a few minutes, one of the cows begins to lick the breast, and joined by another cow.
Watching the video gives one an eerie sense of sensuality and disgust. As humans (and more specifically, Americans), we think of the human breasts as serving two purposes: the production of milk for infants, and as a symbol of sexuality. When observing the cows lick the human breasts, both of these purposes are muddled, and what follows is the uncomfortable sense of observing something that one is perhaps not supposed to be seeing. The sound of the cows moaning the the background add to this sense of displacement.
The lopped-off human form used for cow consumption of minerals reverses the current system of human hegemony. We are accustomed to our role as the consumer. Cows serve our purposes. In Jensen’s Salty, we see the opposite: the cows consume us, or a representation of us. A human breast in the wild, repeatedly licked by cows’ tongues.
…ran through the jungle barefoot.
…climbed the third-highest Mayan pyramid.
…visited an ancient Mayan city where I learned about the civilization’s amazing achievements in science, medicine, and especially astronomy.
…made acquaintances with some French, Spanish, and Slovenian tourists.
…swam in the clear blue waters of the Caribbean Sea.
…did some yoga asanas (including a headstand) on the beach.
…had an amazing last day of my Central American trip.
…could have died happy.