Author Stephanie Kallos defines a relationship as “a marvel of construction, built up over time and out of fragments of shared experience. . . . Maybe we feel such a strong kinship with pique assiette because it is the visual metaphor that best describes us; after all, we spend much of our lives hurling bits of the figurative and literal past into the world’s landfill—and then regret it. We build our identities from that detritus of regret. Every relationship worth keeping sustains, at the very least, splintered glazes, hairline fractures, cracks. And aren’t these flaws the prerequisites of intimacy?” What do you think of this view of identity and relationships?
Wow that quote is a mouthful. What I got from it is that relationships worth keeping will have some cracks in them, that they won't be perfect, and that it is this vey imperfection that makes them so meaningful and interesting. I do agree with this. I wouldn't love my best friend Jamie so much if our lives had never been so bumpy...I think certain kinds of love and understanding comes through lifes accidents and struggles. I think we hurt the people we love the most, and visa versa. Sometimes we get a crack in that relationship, and it's love and the willing to mend the crack that counts and creates the bond between us. Sometimes the severed bond that is mended is the strongest bond of all.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Wanda Reflecting
When Wanda reflects on her life in the theatre, she says, “You’re part of this intense family for a while, and then everyone moves on.” How does Troy shift the rules? And how do things change with the steady accumulation of people at the Hughes house?
Troy shifts the rules in that he decides not to move on. He stays with Wanda and she is still wondering why he decided to stay with her. She is still looking for something else, something that she can never have again...but wants very badly. She is focusing too muh on the past to be able to enjoy the present, or get a sense of what the future can hold for her.
I love all of the different characters that are accumulating in the Hughes house. Margaret is growing this unconventional family and I just love it. The house is becomming more and more lively, and each person seems to have a place, or bring something that was greatly needed to the Hughes family.
Troy shifts the rules in that he decides not to move on. He stays with Wanda and she is still wondering why he decided to stay with her. She is still looking for something else, something that she can never have again...but wants very badly. She is focusing too muh on the past to be able to enjoy the present, or get a sense of what the future can hold for her.
I love all of the different characters that are accumulating in the Hughes house. Margaret is growing this unconventional family and I just love it. The house is becomming more and more lively, and each person seems to have a place, or bring something that was greatly needed to the Hughes family.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
A herald of a by-gone era,
Before the plastic gallon jugs
that cut off circulation to your fingers.
The fingertips of the mountians
Are bathed in cold, frothy milk,
And framed by towers of triangles
That compose bird-like structures
That must be broken down and rebuilt
Every time they migrate.
Parallel to the towering cranes
Stand the reminants of naked trees,
Full of clamoring colors,
Informing me that if I so desired,
I could live from show
To show
And never
Sleep.
Before the plastic gallon jugs
that cut off circulation to your fingers.
The fingertips of the mountians
Are bathed in cold, frothy milk,
And framed by towers of triangles
That compose bird-like structures
That must be broken down and rebuilt
Every time they migrate.
Parallel to the towering cranes
Stand the reminants of naked trees,
Full of clamoring colors,
Informing me that if I so desired,
I could live from show
To show
And never
Sleep.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!
It jumped on her... it's real, I swear!!! Who knows where this creature came from, but whatever it was, it was sucking the living daylights out of her. It was accompanied with many friends. They were in the room next door, but no one knew what they were. We study them intensly, but no matter how hard and how long we stare, they will never make any sense to us. Their creator will always be the only persons who truly understands them and understands what they want from us. THey come to our world, the next generation of aliens... but this time, they've already invaded our planet. Their big sharp teeth are crawling out out of thir mouths, and yet some look so gentle. Can we trust them? Let's hope so... or... run for cover!!!
Child At Bath
Her eys pierce me; their brown, gray, and blue. So young with such emotion and intellect. Some may say her face is blank, but there is something underneath those eyes. There is sadness and wonder.
Her feet rest in a small pool of water while her hand rests on the edge of the rock where she sits.
Her hair is thin and soft, wispy. There is a gentle curl. Her faceand skin is soft. I feel her name coul be Emma, and with the music in the background, it is easy to hear her music box.
Every line and shadow is perfect. All of the focus is on her, the background is cloudily defined. She is the brightest object in the painting.
She is too young to be posing this way. Though she has not yet hit the age of puberty, she is so exposed. But she is beautiful.
There is some connection with me and children, a maternal connection, that is most prominent for me. I feel so close to them even when we are new to each other.
"...convey[s] an intermingling of childhood innocence and maturing self-awareness."
Her feet rest in a small pool of water while her hand rests on the edge of the rock where she sits.
Her hair is thin and soft, wispy. There is a gentle curl. Her faceand skin is soft. I feel her name coul be Emma, and with the music in the background, it is easy to hear her music box.
Every line and shadow is perfect. All of the focus is on her, the background is cloudily defined. She is the brightest object in the painting.
She is too young to be posing this way. Though she has not yet hit the age of puberty, she is so exposed. But she is beautiful.
There is some connection with me and children, a maternal connection, that is most prominent for me. I feel so close to them even when we are new to each other.
"...convey[s] an intermingling of childhood innocence and maturing self-awareness."
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
The Condemned, Frye
The Condemned.
Theres a man sitting at a table, with an expression on his face that I cannot completely explain. Grief, worry, confusion, regret perhaps? Sitting in a dimly candle lit chamber built of stone. A guard stands by the door, bowl of food in the corner, a tattered book and hat thrown upon the floor. He sits at the table thinking of his life, hoping for a miracle, waiting for his death, for he is the condemned.
Theres a man sitting at a table, with an expression on his face that I cannot completely explain. Grief, worry, confusion, regret perhaps? Sitting in a dimly candle lit chamber built of stone. A guard stands by the door, bowl of food in the corner, a tattered book and hat thrown upon the floor. He sits at the table thinking of his life, hoping for a miracle, waiting for his death, for he is the condemned.
THE ARTIST STATEMENT: GETTING STARTED (Your homework for Friday)
Brainstorm. Writing quickly, note your responses to the following questions. Jot down words and phrases. Don’t worry about making sense or making an impression, just allow your thoughts to flow. You are generating raw material to make use of in writing your artist statement.
* Save your responses and bring them with you to class on Friday.
1. How did you get started in your art form?
2. What are some of your favorite things about your work?
3. What are some of the things you do every day as part of your artistic practice?
4. When your work is going well, what do you notice?
5. What materials do you enjoy working with?
6. What medium(s) do you currently associate yourself with?
7. What do you explore or investigate through your art?
8. When you need inspiration, where do you find it?
9. Describe your working process.
10. Who is the intended audience for your art?
11. Who are some of the people who’ve shaped your point of view as an artist?
12. What are some of the things you’ve learned over the past three months?
13. What are you currently working on?
14. What are some of the books, movies, and other art works that have had a strong impact on you?
15. How does your background influence your work?
16. What impact do you hope to have with your work?
17. What does making art mean to you?
18. When you’re not doing your art work, what do you do?
* Save your responses and bring them with you to class on Friday.
1. How did you get started in your art form?
2. What are some of your favorite things about your work?
3. What are some of the things you do every day as part of your artistic practice?
4. When your work is going well, what do you notice?
5. What materials do you enjoy working with?
6. What medium(s) do you currently associate yourself with?
7. What do you explore or investigate through your art?
8. When you need inspiration, where do you find it?
9. Describe your working process.
10. Who is the intended audience for your art?
11. Who are some of the people who’ve shaped your point of view as an artist?
12. What are some of the things you’ve learned over the past three months?
13. What are you currently working on?
14. What are some of the books, movies, and other art works that have had a strong impact on you?
15. How does your background influence your work?
16. What impact do you hope to have with your work?
17. What does making art mean to you?
18. When you’re not doing your art work, what do you do?
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Broken for You: Chapters 1-10
Wanda's pain is shown through her wild neuroticism, which really puts people off... thus hurting her more. Wanda is fortunate enough that Margaret is able to look past that and accept Wanda, understand her pain, and welcome her into her home.
Margaret's emotional pain has shut her away from the world. It's as if Margaret thinks that by doing so, things will return to a happier time in her life (perhaps when her father was alive, or when her son was alive.)
Margaret's emotional pain has shut her away from the world. It's as if Margaret thinks that by doing so, things will return to a happier time in her life (perhaps when her father was alive, or when her son was alive.)
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Bleu de Maîtresse
What do you see when you look at me?
When you gaze into my eyes?
Can you?
Am I imploring you to take me with you
Or do I seem lost?
Or maybe
I am pleading you to leave me
To walk far away
Where my nimble feet won’t tread
Away from the darkness and the ice
That drapes my shoulders
And weighs upon my eyelids
Sliding down
Down
Heavy
I am a porcelain goddess
Cold and smooth to the touch
My cheeks lightly frosted in pale pink
My lips
They draw you in
Shaped like a temptresses heart
Deep Red
Rose Red
The only thing that calls to men
In my peacock blue isolation
I am
The epitome of a woman’s beauty
I am
Masculinity at it’s softest
Blurred at the edges
Like smeared charcoal
Strong
Slender cheekbones
I am
I am
Dance your eyes upon me
And you will see the shadows
Under my eyes
The weariness
Of my stance
Again
You look at me
And I appear ready to bear
Your awful promise of Love
I laugh the sound of waterfalls
Sing me a song
As I walk down to the waters
Forget your promises
I will return to the liquid that bore me
And only my lips will remain
Vivid rose petals
Floating upon an ocean of the very
Deepest
Blues
It is foolish to build your dreams
Upon waters such as these
When you gaze into my eyes?
Can you?
Am I imploring you to take me with you
Or do I seem lost?
Or maybe
I am pleading you to leave me
To walk far away
Where my nimble feet won’t tread
Away from the darkness and the ice
That drapes my shoulders
And weighs upon my eyelids
Sliding down
Down
Heavy
I am a porcelain goddess
Cold and smooth to the touch
My cheeks lightly frosted in pale pink
My lips
They draw you in
Shaped like a temptresses heart
Deep Red
Rose Red
The only thing that calls to men
In my peacock blue isolation
I am
The epitome of a woman’s beauty
I am
Masculinity at it’s softest
Blurred at the edges
Like smeared charcoal
Strong
Slender cheekbones
I am
I am
Dance your eyes upon me
And you will see the shadows
Under my eyes
The weariness
Of my stance
Again
You look at me
And I appear ready to bear
Your awful promise of Love
I laugh the sound of waterfalls
Sing me a song
As I walk down to the waters
Forget your promises
I will return to the liquid that bore me
And only my lips will remain
Vivid rose petals
Floating upon an ocean of the very
Deepest
Blues
It is foolish to build your dreams
Upon waters such as these
Friday, November 9, 2007
The Christian Martyr
Her body hung at the top of the hill. It had only been that morning that she was nailed and bound to the planks. He couldn't have gone, it would be too painful for them both. And he shouldn't have gone, he could not risk it. Even now, as he approaced the site of her final moments, he was frightened that someone might be following him, watching him, wondering what he was doing there and why he might know this blasphemous girl.All the life was drained from her body. Her eyes remained closed as if she were a doll and the blood that had flowed from her palms glistened as the sun set over the distand mountains.
He drew himself up to her face and placed a small kiss on her cheek, tasting the salt of her dried tears. Since he had found her and as he knelt before her, his eyes did not leave her face. Carefully, he layed the flowers at her feet and began to back away...
The Blue Girl
As a middle class worker, every day's the same. You wake up, pour your cup of coffee, which you lost the taste for long ago and now down like medicine, and go to the same damn job that you've been working at for the past 10 years; but not me. Yes, I've worked at my job for quite some time now, but every day for me is something new, because every day I work is yet another day that I get to see her. The blue girl.
I opened my little coffee shop about 6 years ago on the corner of Pike and Pine. Though not large in its size, it draws in quite the crowd. Handfuls of people come rushing in on their way to work or a buisness meeting, leavig just enough time to pop in and get their morning fix, but they all seem like a daze to me. They all carry those obnoxious breif cases that are way too big, and those fancy black dress coats, looking like something important besdies what they actually are; a nameless part of the system. But theres one of them that I jut dont quite get. Every morning around 10 o'clock she comes in. This vision in white lace, in black gloves and knit scarves, in kacki boots and satin skirts. She comes up to the counter and orders her usual, a cup of english tea with room for cream. She the takes her cup over to the dressing table and gently tips over the container of cream so as to get just the right amount and tops it all off with a pinch of sugar. She then saunters over to the chair in the corner and sits down with her journal, writing away about what I've always thought to be far off lands and romance novels. About people and places shes always longed to see, but only drempt of going. She sits so peacefully, like the calm against the blustery storm as opposed to the customers that come and grab their coffee to go, in a nervous hurry. But my little blue girl always stays and never seems to have anywhere to go. Every now and then I wonder how it was I came to giver her the name "little blue girl"....maybe its the sapphire in her eyes that catch the glimpses of sunlight as she speaks, or the color of her dress that she wears on Sunday mornings, or maybe its the color of the heavens from which she must have descent. I think I call her little blue girl because of her mystique; like an ocean that you cant break through the surface or a sky which you cant see through the clouds.
Sometimes as she huddles in her nook she chuckles to herself, probably laughing about an obsurd thought or idea thats passed through her head as she writes feverishly on the paper. Someday I'll learn her name and hear stories of what she's been writing about for all these years, but for now she's just english tea with cream and my little blue girl.
Callin Regan
The Blue Girl
Painting by Malcolm Stevens Parcell
I opened my little coffee shop about 6 years ago on the corner of Pike and Pine. Though not large in its size, it draws in quite the crowd. Handfuls of people come rushing in on their way to work or a buisness meeting, leavig just enough time to pop in and get their morning fix, but they all seem like a daze to me. They all carry those obnoxious breif cases that are way too big, and those fancy black dress coats, looking like something important besdies what they actually are; a nameless part of the system. But theres one of them that I jut dont quite get. Every morning around 10 o'clock she comes in. This vision in white lace, in black gloves and knit scarves, in kacki boots and satin skirts. She comes up to the counter and orders her usual, a cup of english tea with room for cream. She the takes her cup over to the dressing table and gently tips over the container of cream so as to get just the right amount and tops it all off with a pinch of sugar. She then saunters over to the chair in the corner and sits down with her journal, writing away about what I've always thought to be far off lands and romance novels. About people and places shes always longed to see, but only drempt of going. She sits so peacefully, like the calm against the blustery storm as opposed to the customers that come and grab their coffee to go, in a nervous hurry. But my little blue girl always stays and never seems to have anywhere to go. Every now and then I wonder how it was I came to giver her the name "little blue girl"....maybe its the sapphire in her eyes that catch the glimpses of sunlight as she speaks, or the color of her dress that she wears on Sunday mornings, or maybe its the color of the heavens from which she must have descent. I think I call her little blue girl because of her mystique; like an ocean that you cant break through the surface or a sky which you cant see through the clouds.
Sometimes as she huddles in her nook she chuckles to herself, probably laughing about an obsurd thought or idea thats passed through her head as she writes feverishly on the paper. Someday I'll learn her name and hear stories of what she's been writing about for all these years, but for now she's just english tea with cream and my little blue girl.
Callin Regan
The Blue Girl
Painting by Malcolm Stevens Parcell
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
World Premiere of GEOGRAPHY at On the Boards
Scott/Powell Performance at On the Boards (Seattle) – November 15-17 at 8:00 pm
On the Boards (OtB) presents the world premiere of Geography, a multi-media performance work for Scott/Powell Performance, November 15-17, 2007 at 8:00 pm. Geography is choreographed by Mary Sheldon Scott and composed by Jarrad Powell, with set design by visual artist Robert Campbell, costume design by Mark Zappone, and lighting design by Julianne Keenan. Some of Seattle’s foremost modern dancers – Alice de Muizon, Beth Graczyk, Mikhail Kaschock, Jim Kent, Jess Klein, Sean Ryan and Ellie Sandstrom – form the powerful cast for this vibrant new work. Inspired by man-made changes to our global geography, Mary Sheldon Scott’s intricate choreography and Jarrad Powell’s electro-acoustic scoring coalesce to map challenging internal and external worlds in an environment of glass and light designed by visual artist Robert Campbell.
TICKETS are available from On the Boards – 206.217.9888 or via the website at ontheboards.org
On the Boards is located at 100 West Roy Street in lower Queen Anne at the corner of 1st Avenue West and Roy
Broken for You
Prompt:Margaret’s diagnosis prompts her to take certain personal risks and to make herself vulnerable in ways that she hasn’t for many years. Describe a time in your own life when you decided to take a personal risk. What happened? Be as specific and detailed as possible in describing your experience.
Definately the bigest risk I have taken was deciding to become an artist. I know that there are a lot of people here in the same boat.
I have always had a passion for art, but it wasn't until winter of my junior year that I seriously considered making the transition from "someone who does art" to "artist." It was terrifying. I started taking art classes my sophomore year, and a little bit into my junior year my art teacher told me she thought I should consider applying to some art schools. At first I thought that maybe that was something she said to all her students who did more that goof off, but she kept encouraging me. I was so unsure. I knew that I would love to spend the rest of my life making art, but I couldn't shake the though that it would probably mean living with my parents untill I was thirty or never being able to afford more than some decrepid one-room loft. No one in my family was an artist, and the whole idea was so alien. So I did the only logical thing: I didn't eat for a week. More specificly, I fasted. For a week I prayed and thought about my future, and by the end of the week I knew that if I never took the risk, I would regret it for the rest of my life.
So I spent the next year building up my portfolio, and when January came around I hualed what I had to Cornish for National Portfolio Day (an event that Cornish hosts every year where representatives from art schools across the country come to review porfolios for admission). I had two finished pieces, a mess of figure drawings, and four or five unfinished paintings. I figured I'd show my stuff to the Cornish rep and see what they thought, then come back in a couple months for my official portfolio review. I laid everything out for the rep and explained the concepts behind my work and the direction the unfinished pieces were headed. When I finished I was prepared to listen to some critisism and advice, but I wasn't prepared for what happened.
"This is the calibure of work we're looking for." The rep told me. Bob, I think his name was. "I want to really encourage you to fill out an application and send it into the school." Well I wasn't exactly grasping what he was telling me, so I said something about completeing my portfolio and coming back for my official portfolio review, and he laughed. I was so confused. He had to explain to me at least two more times that he had just conducted the review, even though I only had about half the required elements, and I had been accepted. I don't know how long I stared at him with the classical "dear in the headlights" look before it really hit me and I was overcome with a foolish grin and a small fit of relieved giggles.
I took the first part of the risk, and here I am, at Cornish, now I'm lainching myself into the real risk, which will be graduating and trying to avoid being a starving artist!
Definately the bigest risk I have taken was deciding to become an artist. I know that there are a lot of people here in the same boat.
I have always had a passion for art, but it wasn't until winter of my junior year that I seriously considered making the transition from "someone who does art" to "artist." It was terrifying. I started taking art classes my sophomore year, and a little bit into my junior year my art teacher told me she thought I should consider applying to some art schools. At first I thought that maybe that was something she said to all her students who did more that goof off, but she kept encouraging me. I was so unsure. I knew that I would love to spend the rest of my life making art, but I couldn't shake the though that it would probably mean living with my parents untill I was thirty or never being able to afford more than some decrepid one-room loft. No one in my family was an artist, and the whole idea was so alien. So I did the only logical thing: I didn't eat for a week. More specificly, I fasted. For a week I prayed and thought about my future, and by the end of the week I knew that if I never took the risk, I would regret it for the rest of my life.
So I spent the next year building up my portfolio, and when January came around I hualed what I had to Cornish for National Portfolio Day (an event that Cornish hosts every year where representatives from art schools across the country come to review porfolios for admission). I had two finished pieces, a mess of figure drawings, and four or five unfinished paintings. I figured I'd show my stuff to the Cornish rep and see what they thought, then come back in a couple months for my official portfolio review. I laid everything out for the rep and explained the concepts behind my work and the direction the unfinished pieces were headed. When I finished I was prepared to listen to some critisism and advice, but I wasn't prepared for what happened.
"This is the calibure of work we're looking for." The rep told me. Bob, I think his name was. "I want to really encourage you to fill out an application and send it into the school." Well I wasn't exactly grasping what he was telling me, so I said something about completeing my portfolio and coming back for my official portfolio review, and he laughed. I was so confused. He had to explain to me at least two more times that he had just conducted the review, even though I only had about half the required elements, and I had been accepted. I don't know how long I stared at him with the classical "dear in the headlights" look before it really hit me and I was overcome with a foolish grin and a small fit of relieved giggles.
I took the first part of the risk, and here I am, at Cornish, now I'm lainching myself into the real risk, which will be graduating and trying to avoid being a starving artist!
Run at Hume Lake
Margaret’s diagnosis prompts her to take certain personal risks and to make herself vulnerable in ways that she hasn’t for many years. Describe a time in your own life when you decided to take a personal risk. What happened? Be as specific and detailed as possible in describing your experience.
I'm really excited to find that I really find this book at it's characters exciting. It is so detailed...any who, okay, a time that I took a personal risk.
I went to a Christian camp for a week in the summmer before I started high school. I had moved out of my old house during the summer, and I really hadn't been seeing any of my old friends. I had kinda been isolated the whole summer...then I decided to go to camp with the church I had been currently attending. The trip started off as usual...a bunch of teenagers crowding on to a bus holding pillow cases and backpacks stuffed with cd's and snack foods. I made friends with a girl sitting in back of me because I had decided to bring a box of teddy grams...she ended up being one of the most closest friends I've ever had...all because a box of teddy grams. Again, moving on. The whole week at camp I just kept opening myself up. I kept expanding my possibilities. I remember that I use to be afraid of being alone. Up at Hume Lake, I discovered the wonderful feeling of being alone and feeling peaceful at the same time.
The last day we were at Hume we had a big sports event that determined which group won the...whatever it was. We had a competition the whole week...forgot really what the competiton was, but whoever had the most points at the end won. I volunteered to run a two mile run up a mountain, and then back down again. I was SO nervous. PLUS I wasn't a runner...I was a swimmer. I felt like I struggled more mentalley to get up the mountain than physically...but I did it. I came in last...and remember wanting to cry at the end because I came in last, but then my group mobbed me...a huge group of screaming girls. They were SO proud of me for doing what I did. No one else wanted to do the run...and they told me they were all in awe that I volunteered to do the hardest part of the competition. Then my heart swelled and I was able to appreciate what I had done. The Stacy I was a year ago would have NEVER volunteered to run the race. I had grown...and gained so much more by putting myself out there.
I'm really excited to find that I really find this book at it's characters exciting. It is so detailed...any who, okay, a time that I took a personal risk.
I went to a Christian camp for a week in the summmer before I started high school. I had moved out of my old house during the summer, and I really hadn't been seeing any of my old friends. I had kinda been isolated the whole summer...then I decided to go to camp with the church I had been currently attending. The trip started off as usual...a bunch of teenagers crowding on to a bus holding pillow cases and backpacks stuffed with cd's and snack foods. I made friends with a girl sitting in back of me because I had decided to bring a box of teddy grams...she ended up being one of the most closest friends I've ever had...all because a box of teddy grams. Again, moving on. The whole week at camp I just kept opening myself up. I kept expanding my possibilities. I remember that I use to be afraid of being alone. Up at Hume Lake, I discovered the wonderful feeling of being alone and feeling peaceful at the same time.
The last day we were at Hume we had a big sports event that determined which group won the...whatever it was. We had a competition the whole week...forgot really what the competiton was, but whoever had the most points at the end won. I volunteered to run a two mile run up a mountain, and then back down again. I was SO nervous. PLUS I wasn't a runner...I was a swimmer. I felt like I struggled more mentalley to get up the mountain than physically...but I did it. I came in last...and remember wanting to cry at the end because I came in last, but then my group mobbed me...a huge group of screaming girls. They were SO proud of me for doing what I did. No one else wanted to do the run...and they told me they were all in awe that I volunteered to do the hardest part of the competition. Then my heart swelled and I was able to appreciate what I had done. The Stacy I was a year ago would have NEVER volunteered to run the race. I had grown...and gained so much more by putting myself out there.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
INDIAN CLASSICAL MUSIC: A PAN-INDIAN PERSPECTIVE
Cornish Music Series and Ragamala Present: Indian Classical Music: A Pan-Indian Perspective
A recital highlighting the two major traditions of music in South Asia, the music of South India, or Karnatak Music, and the music of North India, or Hindustani Music. Seattle-based artists Raman Iyer, violin, vocalist Srivani Jade and vocalist Arijit Mahalanabis, will present recitals of each form.
Saturday, November 10th, 8:00pm
PONCHO Concert Hall, Kerry Hall
710 E. Roy St., Seattle, WA
Free for Cornish students, faculty and staff.
General Admission: $15, $7.50 students, seniors & Cornish alumni.
Free parking in the garage behind Kerry Hall on Boylston Ave.
http://www.ragamala.org/
B R O K E N F O R Y O U
In response to the prompt
“Margaret and Wanda both carry secret grief, and yet they have each developed different strategies for dealing with it. How have their strategies for dealing with their pain both helped and hurt them?”
Margaret and Wanda both deal with there grief in 2 complete opposite ways, Margaret keeps here grief to here self most of the times but instead of asking her self how to cop she tends to ask others, as in the first chapter in the french diner when she asks “nose ring ”
“do you mind if i ask a you a personal question” Nose ring shrugs” no what is it “Well its a rather trite i suppose but if you found out that you had only a short while to live maybe a year or two how would you spend your time”
She goes on to say to say she would do the opposite of what she has done and it would be the last change to break your old-habits. Margaret then goes to the point of admiring her answer and seems pleasantly surprised by the answers.
Wanda’s way of coping with pain is much MUCH more public than margaret, and it seems like she wants everyone to know how dramatic her break up with her boyfriend is and how everyone she should know that she is heartbroken. In fact the first thing she does when she meets wanda is do just that before even entering her home she sprays her guts all over the front porch and when she enters starts crying about bizarre things.
“is it alright to be here now?” said wanda “Yes. It’s fine. com in”said margaret
But wanda stayed outside and right away started telling margaret about her life story
She even goes to as far of obsession of her boyfriend as to think he is in disguise and looking for her on the public bus dressed up as a women she then seems to go completely insane when she gets off the bus and makes a mural of his face out of garbage cigarette buds while sobbing on the sidewalk as people walk by. She is defiantly and very over the top theatrical person and kind of drove me crazy as I read the book.
Margaret and Wanda both deal with there grief in 2 complete opposite ways, Margaret keeps here grief to here self most of the times but instead of asking her self how to cop she tends to ask others, as in the first chapter in the french diner when she asks “nose ring ”
“do you mind if i ask a you a personal question” Nose ring shrugs” no what is it “Well its a rather trite i suppose but if you found out that you had only a short while to live maybe a year or two how would you spend your time”
She goes on to say to say she would do the opposite of what she has done and it would be the last change to break your old-habits. Margaret then goes to the point of admiring her answer and seems pleasantly surprised by the answers.
Wanda’s way of coping with pain is much MUCH more public than margaret, and it seems like she wants everyone to know how dramatic her break up with her boyfriend is and how everyone she should know that she is heartbroken. In fact the first thing she does when she meets wanda is do just that before even entering her home she sprays her guts all over the front porch and when she enters starts crying about bizarre things.
“is it alright to be here now?” said wanda “Yes. It’s fine. com in”said margaret
But wanda stayed outside and right away started telling margaret about her life story
She even goes to as far of obsession of her boyfriend as to think he is in disguise and looking for her on the public bus dressed up as a women she then seems to go completely insane when she gets off the bus and makes a mural of his face out of garbage cigarette buds while sobbing on the sidewalk as people walk by. She is defiantly and very over the top theatrical person and kind of drove me crazy as I read the book.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Call for Art - Seattle City Hall
Seattle City Hall Exhibitions
Deadline: Friday, Dec. 21, 2007 (11 p.m. PST)
The city of Seattle seeks artist and community exhibition proposals for display in City Hall galleries in 2008. The 2008 exhibition cycle will begin in February.
Two galleries at Seattle City Hall - the City Hall Lobby Galleryand the Anne Focke Gallery - focus on works that reflect the broad diversity of Seattle's communities and highlight the work of regional artists and community organizations. Group or solo exhibitions are welcome and will be displayed from six to eight weeks. Exhibitions showcase the life of the city through the work of its departments, the activities of its residents, and its relationships with neighbors, sister cities and trading partners.
The galleries are equipped to display 2-D materials, however 3-D exhibitions will be considered, providing applicants can furnish necessary display cases. Video and media works will not be accepted.
The City Hall Lobby Gallery features eight, 6' x 4' double-sided,metal, peg-board panels. The Anne Focke Gallery features a 120-footlong display wall (with professional hanging system) and is located on the L2 level of City Hall. Video and media works will not be accepted.
All applications must be submitted digitally through the CaFÉT online system.
Apply online through CaFÉT at http://www.callforentry.org/
Deadline: Friday, Dec. 21, 2007 (11 p.m. PST)
The city of Seattle seeks artist and community exhibition proposals for display in City Hall galleries in 2008. The 2008 exhibition cycle will begin in February.
Two galleries at Seattle City Hall - the City Hall Lobby Galleryand the Anne Focke Gallery - focus on works that reflect the broad diversity of Seattle's communities and highlight the work of regional artists and community organizations. Group or solo exhibitions are welcome and will be displayed from six to eight weeks. Exhibitions showcase the life of the city through the work of its departments, the activities of its residents, and its relationships with neighbors, sister cities and trading partners.
The galleries are equipped to display 2-D materials, however 3-D exhibitions will be considered, providing applicants can furnish necessary display cases. Video and media works will not be accepted.
The City Hall Lobby Gallery features eight, 6' x 4' double-sided,metal, peg-board panels. The Anne Focke Gallery features a 120-footlong display wall (with professional hanging system) and is located on the L2 level of City Hall. Video and media works will not be accepted.
All applications must be submitted digitally through the CaFÉT online system.
Apply online through CaFÉT at http://www.callforentry.org/
Cornish Dance Theatre - Fall 07 Concert
Performances
Cornish Dance Theater Fall 2007 Concert
Friday, November 16th at 8pm and Saturday, November 17th at 2pm and 8pm
Broadway Performance Hall, 1625 Broadway
If you can’t make it to the Cornish Dance Theater performances, don’t fret. There is a Preview Performance/Dress Rehearsal of the Fall 2007 Concert on Thursday, November 15th at 7:00 pm. This event is free and open to the public and no tickets are required.
Preview Performance/Dress Rehearsal
Cornish Dance Theater Fall 2007 Concert
Thursday, November 15th, 7 pm
Broadway Performance Hall, 1625 Broadway
Sunday, November 4, 2007
hang out?
hey folks,
what's good?
i was just wondering if any one would be interested in going to see "Life of Galileo" on Monday, the 5th,
pay what you can, yo!
we don't have class tomorrow so i thought i'd just post.
if you're interested give me a ring =]
360.259.2799
-romeo
what's good?
i was just wondering if any one would be interested in going to see "Life of Galileo" on Monday, the 5th,
pay what you can, yo!
we don't have class tomorrow so i thought i'd just post.
if you're interested give me a ring =]
360.259.2799
-romeo
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