day dream believer

2010-01-17T16:19:00.000-08:00

My very own version of one of the greatest websites My Parents Were Awesome ..., click on the image to view up closer, because yes, they are that awesome.

Your mom ain't got shit on my mom.

2009-04-11T16:06:00.001-07:00

true love.

teddy bear shrine update

2009-01-28T07:11:00.000-08:00

'We' got the domain name, but are struggling with our idea of what this site means, and how people could be effected by it. We want to document this phenomenon, however...of course we don't want to upset anyone by doing so. So...we have resolved to think it over some more.

2008-11-19T13:42:00.000-08:00

I showed someone the picture of the Teddy Bear Shrine, and they asked me if it was put there in memory of someone who left the company. Actually, that cubicle is the exact place where someone sat who in fact...was...laid off back in August. Which made me think, that isn't the worst idea ever.

Also, I will admit to a couple of things. Last week I had learned something. When I was about 11 I beleive and my sister was 17, she was reading a book called "Go Ask Alice". It was lying around, so I picked it up and started reading some and immediately wanted to know more. This was the surely the book that corrupted my sisters youth. I borrowed it from the library and secretly read it. Well, this week I was riding along in the car and...a great song by Jefferson Airplane came on the radio. One of the lyrics were "...Go ask Alice...". Somehow or another, I missed the reference over these last 19 years. I guess it must be because I wasn't allowed to watch movies, so I didn't know to much about Alice in Wonderland, and missed out on the book altogether?? Then...when I got to thinking about that, and was concerned about why I didn't know that, I remembered how...only last year did I realize that Afghans (as in blankets) were not exclusively made in Afghanistan. All this time, since I was little I have held onto my assessment that Afghanistan is where all knitted blankets come from and that is the whole purpose of the entire country.

2008-11-14T11:05:00.000-08:00

Well. I saw this. Continued walking. And looked again.

Really? A teddy bear shrine at work?

In my neighborhood, teddy bear shrines mean that a child was killed in this location. I went from thinking about that, to "gross, who the f is keeping their teddy bears here" and then back to my desk. I have since (2 days later) learned, that a coworker is collecting them to distribute to kids over the Holidays, which maybe you would have immediately concluded. I'm sure there are some socio-cultural reasons which deteremine what your (vs. my) response to seeing this, I'd love to do some research on that...

Anyway, back in August, I went to see Bruce and ran into some friends who live in my neighborhood, and we starting talking about all the teddy bear shrines around...and we decided I should probably create a website for people to go to post pictures of the shrines, and maybe even a place for someone to tell the story of the shrine. As creepy as it sounds, I did think about it for a couple of weeks, and have it all stored in my head, I even found the shrine which I want to use as the home page, it's down on Delaware Ave, near Spring Garden St., I think right near the Cave, I will try to get a picture to post. Now that this has appeared at my place of work, I started thinking about it again. What do you think?

2008-11-13T13:03:00.000-08:00

It's been a while.

Someone recently asked me why I haven't kept this blog up. I was at first horrified she read it, but at the same time, I was reminded of how much I enjoyed working on these projects (thanks Tina).

I contacted Shannon a year after she got her red box, and asked her what her message was. Seriously, this is what her message said. I wonder who wrote it. I have 3 ideas...at first I thought for sure it was Woody, then I wondered if it was Bob's mom, but now...after all this time, I am wondering if maybe it was Alexis?

Anyway, I was very surprised, as the person who wrote it had no idea who would get it, or that Shannon and I later made a plan that she would wait a whole year to get her special message and share it with me (since I didn't get a new red box). I am trying to 'keep' Bob. Awesome.

Survey of New Media Project

2006-11-30T18:25:00.000-08:00

This was Lashon & my final project for Survey of New Media. As per the instructions, we made a concept map, showing the connections between different ideas discussed in the class. We used Microsoft Visio to make it. In retrospect, I really learned a lot, I wasn't familiar with most of these ideas.

Here are some of the sources for our map:

McLuhan, Marshall
http://www.leaderu.com/orgs/probe/docs/mcluhan.html
“The Gutenberg Galaxy”, 1962

Haraway, Donna
Interview:
http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/5.02/ffharaway.html
The Cyborg Manifesto:
http://www.stanford.edu/dept/HPS/Haraway/CyborgManifesto.html

Manovich, Lev
Remix and Remixiblility:
http://newmediafix.net/daily/?p=204

Paik, Nam June-“Cybernated Art”
http://isc.temple.edu/sdrury/survey2006/Paik.pdf
http://www.experimentaltvcenter.org/history/tools/ttext.php3?id=20&page=1
“ Art and Satellite” by Nam June Paik (1984)Fluxus

Rhizome
“From A Thousand Plateaus” by Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari

Emergence
“Emergence: The Connected Lives of Ants, Brains, Cities and Software”, by Steven Johnson.

Labrynth-Borges
“The Garden of Forking Paths”, by Jorge Luis Borges
http://isc.temple.edu/sdrury/survey2006/Garden.pdf

Benjamin, Walter
The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction:
http://bid.berkeley.edu/bidclass/readings/benjamin.html

Cage, John
http://www.lcdf.org/indeterminacy/s.cgi
http://www.lcdf.org/indeterminacy/about.html

Fluxus
http://www.ubu.com/sound/flux_tellus.html

Reub, Teri-“Drift”
http://www.terirueb.net/flash/TeriRueb.html

Access Project
http://www.accessproject.net/
Wodiczko, Krzysztof
http://newsgrist.typepad.com/photos/watch_what_we_say/krzysztof_wodiczko.jpg
http://architecture.mit.edu/people/profiles/prwodicz.html
http://www.art-for-a-change.com/Krzysztof/krzy.htm

“Tarnation”
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0390538/

Locative Media

2006-10-26T05:30:00.000-07:00

Geo-Graffitti

Groups of young people walked around in basic shapes of their first initial

http://www.gpsdrawing.com/workshops/galleries/freqout.htm
GPS Map Animation

Group walked around and mapped their typical routes

Teri Reub

http://www.terirueb.net/flash/TeriRueb.html

One of Teri Reub's projects called "Drift" is really neat, it's about getting lost. Taking into consideration that we are constantly watched and tracked, the artist uses sounds and visuals to get the viewer/participant lost, which is rare in todays world.

Check out Hsiang-chin's blog

2006-05-05T15:34:00.000-07:00

Hsiang-chin has a lot of great pictures on her flickr account of the projetcts. These are a few she took of mine.

2006-05-04T08:44:00.000-07:00

This is someone's home on the block, I think it is his own neighborhood narrative. It is a really beautiful creation, I would guess this man gathered these things from the immediate area. He is 'homeless' yet he created this place right here, his place, I think 'houseless' might be more appropriate.

Final Project-Front & Callowhill

2006-05-04T07:31:00.000-07:00

Death and homelessness -2 ideas that are important to my life, and many other people's. The block I narrated is interesting. I lived in an apartment there, with my boyfriend, he lived there first. I came across some wild dogs, and in following the wild dogs, I discovered a hidden place where 'homeless' people have there homes, some tents, some a box. Also, migrant workes live under the bridge right there. Many people, including myself, who do not identify as having a home, live here. I have a small red box, in it I keep some personal things, it means a lot to me. As far as possessions, it is possible the only one I care about. If I pick up and leave, I will be sure to bring this box with me, maybe nothing else.

I think about death frequently, it's just a part of my everyday life. I constantly live in fear of the people dear to me dying. I want to keep them safe, and on the other hand the people in my life who have died, I seem to get over it quickly and never look back. So...I came up with this idea one morning --a way to show a temporary home, my box and include the ever present reality of death--this is a link to my initial plan -www.blueprintmedia.com/nn/nn.PDF My wonderful boyfriend Bob and his mom helped so much, so that you could experience my idea.

The whole idea is, first I showed the areas where the homeless-wild dogs-migrant workers all live. This is not our typical idea of what a home is, for some it is. I lived here as well, but I'm not sure if I have home. Next I take you to my temporary home. To get there you have to follow my path. On this path are stumbling blocks, each one an image of someone who has died in my life. As you get to the end of the path, you will see the symbols of the people dearest to me. To get into my home you have to make your way through them, as I have to struggle through my life knowing one day these people won't be here. Before you enter into my home, you have to be smudged, and this will get rid of any evil or negative energy you bring. I do this at night a lot, because evil often infiltrate my dreams. Once inside you will find my box, in here are things sacred to me, photos and other memories which I hold close. Once you are ready to leave, I will give you your own red box...

2006-05-04T07:22:00.000-07:00

I made everyone a small red box, like mine. I put a small piece of paper and asked each person to write on it. Write whatever it is you would want to know or remember if the only thing you had left was this box. I asked everyone to give the box back and then take a new one. Hsiang-Chin is going to call me in one year when she opens her box and reads the message. I am really looking forward to that call.

This is How I like to get rid of Evil

2006-04-26T14:27:00.000-07:00

Using a smudging tool is part of many Native American traditions. The burning of herbs for emotional, psychic, and spiritual purification is also common practice among many religious, healing, and spiritual groups. The ritual of smudging can be defined as "spiritual house cleaning." In theory, the smoke attaches itself to negative energy and as the smoke clears it takes the negative energy with it, releasing it into another space where it will be regenerated into positive energy.

The Score

2006-04-20T07:12:00.000-07:00

The score was very interesting. I actually chose to dance Stefane's score because I thought it would be easiest for me. He did an excellent job explaining what his score was about and what moves he wanted to express it. At one point in the score, it said to "hug a stranger". I did just that, and after I finished my five minutes dance, the person I hugged came to me and said that I made his day. We introduced ourselves and talked for a bit. I was really surprised. I made a friend which I never expected. I never make friends and now I see that it is that easy. I'm very used to making eye contact with people I don't know, however, that is where it ends. Never talking, never friends. While I danced the score, I wasn't paying much attention to the people around me. I was aware of them, but not dancing for them. I tried my best at portraying Stefane's emotion and direction. The score showed a side of me most people don't see. It allowed me to come out of my shell and be a bit extroverted. I showed classmates and strangers emotion, even though they were not my emotions. Overall, a lot came out from doing the dance I never expected.

Executive Order

2006-02-15T20:08:00.000-08:00

This was a challenge. I'm not still thinking about it. This week I'm a doer, not a thinker.

I love hearing what other people say. It's "fun" for me to listen in to other's conversations. It seems like when you Have to, no one is talking anymore.
I over heard a couple conversations, one was boring, one was entertaining and annoying at the same time.

1> In class Tuesday in January, I didn't write down the date...maybe the 31st? 2:45 pm.
"okay, are you gonna be there at like-----4:30?-----Okay, I'll call you then"

2> Around the corner from my house. 2.2.06 11:24 pm
I see a few girls, ones on the phone, I go stand with them (weird, but not in this circumstance)
There makin a movie here yo
I can’t just hop over the wall
Alright
(hangs up)
I wanna meet him so bad yo
Did you get his autograph?
For real? Any ya’ll gotta pen?
Hey, anyone gotta pen?
Light guy walks over and turns out light
Are you the producer?
Producers don’t’ turn lights off
Oh.
Im the light guy.
Oh, so how much you getting paid for this?
M I l l io n s
No shit ,lemme shake your hand, I wanna shake a millionaire’s hand’
im talking to a millionaire over here
Kisses his hand
You smell that good hotel soap?
Will he give autographs?
I don’t, it depends on how he feels, it’s been a long week….He was giving some in Kensington.
Your in Kensington.
Oh, really…I wouldn’t know, Im from LA
My daddy’s from LA, I don’t know where, I don’t know ‘im.
He starts to walk away.
Millionaire, don’t forget me “*******”
She said her whole name and address including zip code
I can't remember that part, although the conversation echoed in my head until I got home to write it down. I think I remembered most of it exact.

2006-02-15T20:04:00.000-08:00

I put myself here on my walk

2006-02-15T19:19:00.000-08:00

higher grounds. 631 north 3rd street.

I used to write a lot. Instead of talking to people, especially when I'm pissed off, I wrote it down in a book. I also kept a book with me and wrote poems or songs, draw pictures, whatever, in it. I've kept several of these books and thrown several away. I throw them away when I read them and become disgusted with who I am. This particular book, does disgust me, but when I read it, I find myself feeling a lot of the same feelings, as if I haven't evolved in ten years.

I know, I suck at digital photography.

2006-02-15T19:16:00.000-08:00

I took several pages of the book and rewrote them into a new book. I didn't change anything. I wouldn't have minded leaving the original, but my friend advised me it would be a big mistake. Why am I listening, I really don't know. Anyway, I took the book and left it here at this coffee shop. I wrote on the first page something about read it...leave it...write in it.

I hope noone I know read's it, and I hope a stranger writes in it. I'll go back and check on it in a month or so.

Orianna Hill Dog Park

2006-01-25T16:42:00.000-08:00

I grew up in a small town. People have dogs, they aren't on leashes, and I don't think they pick up after them either. I wasn't really sure what a dog park was when I moved to this area. I had never seen one, and hadn't heard that term. Now, the dog park is a regular part of my life, and it has even become the best reminder of where I came from. Parks in general are somewhat foreign to my hometown. Open space with trees and grass, I took for granted, as I'm sure the dogs do. Where I came from, concrete is the exception, and green is rule. Now, this place, a dog park has become my refuge from the city -in a couple of ways, as a reminder of where I came here from, in the sense that it has trees and grass, and the opposite -the fact that I have to leave my house and go to a designated, fenced off area to find this again.
On another level, when I think about it, it reminds me of my past in other ways. People in small town America wave at each other, if you don't already know them and every detail of their existence, you still regard them as at least, a person on the same planet as you, not a stranger. At the dog park, people are very friendly. Their dog's bring such pride and happiness to them, that they want to talk to you, and want to find out about your dog. It's been my experience, as an introvert, that I have talked to more people at the dog park then from all other aspects of my life now combined.
It's usually a short and sweet interaction. They ask about my dog, I ask about there's, we talk about them, and maybe the neighborhood. Sometimes we exchange names. More often then not, we part, and my memory of them will be favorable. I'll call them "Sir Chauncey's Maximillian Bartholomew's Mom" or "Champ's Dad". I'm "Juju's Mom" and "Hannibal's stepmom" later on that night when I give my report of the day.
It's just the kind of interaction I enjoy. People talk about one of the things in life that brings them happiness, and that joy extends to me when we talk, and it's brief.

Clearly I'm a Disaster

2006-01-19T09:58:00.000-08:00

This is new.

I would guess the person who owned my bag was a male. Gender stereotypes -I love them! I have a black and brown hat, a dark green hat, both covered in dog hair. Crumbled up dollars, change, my computer, lots of random notebook pages that I ripped out. My bag is a US Psych Messenger bag I got when my boyfriend snuck me into a Convention. I have my cell phone in there, Credit card and Identification. It's very messy, which is indicative of the rest of my life right now. The one thing that gives me away are the little pink wrapped up feminine products. Funny thing, I was the only female in the class who carried that with me? Speaking of gender stereotypes, why Pink?

Not that I don't like it.