Thursday, November 10, 2005
sometimes i get so sick of- metaphorically- having to pull my pants down and compare my intellect and subcultural literacy. to know me is to know that i have very little to prove. it takes a serious time commitment to discover that there is more than meets the eye. so please don't ever argue the properties of zero in my presence or try to dazzle me with your knowledge of completely obscure bands. you will win. every time.
it is more difficult than i imagined to come up with something new and not winy to say whilst leaving out the mundane details of my daily life... (but if you were wondering: overslept, panicked, showered quickly, zoomed to husband's work, "love you, bye," zoomed to my work, worked, ate turkey sandwich, worked more, got haircut, ate an apple in traffic jam, listened to wilco, home, walked dog, checked email, picked up husband, made lasagna- that i do not like to eat- ate salad and bit of lasagna- did not like, watched 1400 episodes of AquaTeen Hunger Force (season 3), vanilla ice cream with peanut butter, checked email again, messing with blog, now + (peppery) red wine)
since i work at a bookstore- i have an entire hour in the middle of the day to devote to magazines. and the one i am most excited about right now is zingmagazine (http://www.zingmagazine.com/). it is fat, printed on that thick, delicious, pigment-sucking stock. i was elated to happen upon marcel dzama.... first the postcard fell out, then i flipped to page after page of his ink and wash drawings. although my word is not the bottom line in the art world (yet), his work far surpasses that of his contemporaries- in originality and execution. if you care about what is good (to look at), look at his work. you will laugh... and when you see the one with the alligator, you might also cry.
two other magazines that curl my toes:
art on paper, the only unpretentious magazine dedicated to art that has never, EVER made me roll my eyes or make choking-gagging noises. also it spares me from the conceptual "art"work that never fails to depress me and all the paintings that generally feel so predictable and... there is just a liveliness in works on paper, a sense of genuineness when something is not created to last a lifetime or two, when it's just made because someone wanted to.
(inserted post-post: Elle Decoration UK is the 2nd magazine I had in mind. i think that it might be the (interior) design standard, but in my world it is a faithful prophet of great, new design. period.
in our society artists seem to be hyper-elevated by the monied (yeah, i said that) and joked about and despised by the rest. is there something threatening about artists, or just intimidating. maybe it is their stereotyped lifestyle or fixation with body fluids. why are artists so alienated? and why do so many feel like they have the inherent right to flaunt a lack of integrity and disrespect for the viewer? just wondering what is going on here.