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colors of spring and their flowering plants and fauna
It was my friend’s mom’s birthday yesterday. Both our moms are single parents and I started thinking about how strong they had to be for us. Then I started thinking about women of color in general. Being a PoC ain’t a walk in the park by itself, but add being a woman in a patriarchal society? Nahhh. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for women of color. AND THEN people have the nerve to call em out on being hard and growing a thick skin, telling them to smile and be happy n’ shit. Fuck outta here. Women that face all that bull and STILL manage to come out on top amaze me.
These thoughts inspired this piece. A black Wonder Woman.
wonder woman is hot in any color… any color
(via theleakypen)
this is kanji training
its tough being a whale. orca whale takes his coffee break with a sigh of contemplation… should he eat a seal or migrate to the west coast. so tough.
Just a Re-Blog from my new Blog.
Edvard Munch is an emo-kid, and if I’m the first to say this, then I’ll say it with out shame or fear of ridicule. Edvard Munch is an emo kid. I say this because I am a reformed emo-kid. I understand the displacement one would feel coming from an otherwise privileged house hold with a dysfunctional family dynamic, and as they say, birds of a feather flock together. So again, let me repeat this statement- Edvard Munch, is an emo-kid.
Now admittedly I do not know the man in person, and my knowledge of him is quantified by the information available to me on wiki-pedia, not an entirely reputable source of Art history, but the point is before I made my bold statement I did a background search, all be it a shallow one, on this man.
My rational for cataloging Edvar Munch as an emo-kid (a side from my own brief stint in this role during adolescents) is yet again, at best, an elementary examination of this man’s artwork. However, as I am also an artist, and I too struggle with titles. I find that his work and titles he gave them, speaks volumes to this label. Or rather the label I have just assigned him, suits the somewhat juvenile melodramatic fashion in witch he produced his work.
My most recent trip to the MOMA, in Manhattan, has brought this fact to my attention. After a disappointing viewing of the latest and apparently greatest cotemporary installation available to the MOMA, entitled “pollen”, I decided to seek refuge on the upper floors of the museum. Mostly to photograph “Pollen” and text scathing comments to my friends, but also in order to gain some perspective on the chronicles of Modern Art.
After enjoying the geometric awareness of Cézanne and the obsessive paint-by-number-like skill of Seurat, I journeyed to the back where, now on exhibit is the colorful pastel version of “The Screamer”, along with other incomplete and, in my opinion, sloppy prints and sketches by our favorite emo-kid, Edvard Munch.
Now most artists are emotional, some more than others. Some have more issues than the republican party has with our black president, but this label is so befitting of the art work created by this man, that I believe if this man was condemned to being an adolescent and young adult during the 21st century, he would have a DeviantArt account devoted to his melancholies. This is not an insult to those who found fame for their talents on this website. But it is an admission to the wealth of hormone drenched visual and textual pieces created by teens across the nation and more. I myself have quite a bit of my work from high school catalogued and forgotten on DeviantArt, and like the password to the account I hope it stays forgotten. The point is Edvard Munch’s work has the same flavor that much of the work on this site has.
It wasn’t an immediate conclusion that came to me when I decided that Munch is an emo-kid. Or that, if born in this time period and raised in the suburbs of most any developed nation (particularly America), he would display his work on DeviantArt. It was three walls to the left after the “screamer” that I came up with this assessment. Specifically, after staring at “ The Vampire” for 30 seconds, snickering to myself like a smug self satisfied, for lack of a better word, bitch, I thought to myself, if Edvard Munch were a classmate of mine he would be an emo kid too. And he too would be condemned to Deviant art’s Catalogue of adolescent angst. Then I turned around and saw the picture titled “Angst” and I had to leave before I burst out laughing.
Now my assessment of this man’s hypothetical life among my peers and his “high school” niche’s label is completely anecdotal. I also understand the amount of baggage this man must have been carrying around, as well as what I would suspect was some crippling bouts of depression. But this doesn’t diminish the shear comedic value of this man’s dramatizations of emotions. “Angst” “the Screamer” “ Vampire”, all of these works and more are just portrayals of how direct and honestly his intention to express his sadness was. This is what being an emo-kid is and was about, to express the depth of ones dark emotions.
So labeling Edvard Munch as an emo-kid is not an insult, it’s an affirmation of his anguish. And to laugh at this man’s theatrical portrayals of pain is not an act of my dismay towards his popularity, or his artwork’s place in a museum. It is me laughing at myself, laughing at a 16 year-old who locked herself in a room for 3 days because the girl she loved didn’t love her back. I am re-living my melodramas through his body of works. Not just “The Scream”, or “The Vampire”, or “Angst”, but all of it as one. And this is exactly what we look for in art, a means to connect, emote, and reflect. To over look Edvard’s other pieces for the pastel of “The Screamer” is to ignorer the other dark emotions that fill our hearts. Edvard does an excellent job at communicating to us, the viewer, dark emotions, we just chooses to look at the most exaggerated.
wake up with a mug! winter morning fashion shows at Le Maison Carre. Mama Carre is sporting her super chic thermal underwear and long sleeve underarmar. Oh the fashions of winter!!!
