Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Hey, Wow I Have a Blog

So I haven't written in roughly three years.  I won't bother making excuses because, while some are good, many are poor, but all are still excuses.  I also won't make any promises about posting more since I know myself well enough not to trust my word when it comes to things like blog posts.  Sure, there were times, back in the days of LiveJournal that I would post faithfully every day, sometimes multiple times in the same 24 hours, but it seems my netiquette has declined with age, inversely proportional to how much of a reclusive hermit I am.  Apologies, blog.  For serious.

Now that our collective tears have dried, I will come to the purpose of my post: I've begun to update my website again after a shameful amount of neglect.  Why?  Because, I am 30 and therefore a REAL adult, therefore, I should have a real adult job, right?  So I will polish up my portfolio in the hopes of landing a coveted ART JOB.  (If I knew how to make that sparkle, by god, I would.  The fact that I don't, I think, somehow counts against me.)

After a slight revamp (just moving some stuff around, making minor changes -- also, it's not up yet), I realized that I have to now actually CHOOSE work to put in my portfolio.  Previously, my websites have been just a dumping ground for EVERYTHING I've done (more or less), but now I have to be selective and take only things that showcase my talent(s?) and NOT put up things that should really go in the scrap pile.  A huge issue that will impede my progress at some point is the fact that I've just moved to Massachusetts from New York, and most of my hard copy work is still at my parents' house since our apartment is much too small to fit all of it. 

"What's there, Momo?"

Why thank you for asking, disembodied voice.  All of my life drawings, which I want to photograph for my portfolio and then get rid of (I have so many!), a large body of my student work, paintings, drawings, not to mention blank canvases just waiting to have something slapped on them.  And art supplies.  Eventually I am going to be putting things (as in "art for sale") up on my Etsy page, but, again, I make no promises.  Though, blog, you shall surely hear of it when it happens.

Also, I've been writing a paranormal romance novel, and I think I'm finally at a point where I can sort of safely announce that... to all two of my followers.  And to you, blog.  I've gathered a small group of close friends to read what I've got so far, though they're people who will give it to me straight and won't kiss my ass, which is exactly what I need.  Plus they're generally good with grammar, which is a plus.  I'm usually a Grammar Nazi myself, but even I can miss something, especially when reading and re-reading the same thing over and over again.  I've set a goal for myself (something I almost never do anymore): to finish the typed first draft (the handwritten rough draft has been finished for a long, long while) within four months.  So by the end of June, I'd like to finally be finished with this thing, so I can try to get it published.  The feedback I've gotten so far was really positive; the test will just be the publishers and their opinions.  My friends can say it's a good book all they want, but they can't publish it and pay me money.  Granted, self-publishing is an option, but I don't really want to go that route, to be frank.  I would like the validation of "THE MAN" accepting my work, and I really suck at trying to sell my own stuff.  Or anyone else's for that matter.  THEREFORE, PR rep would be good.

But that's all I have to say right now.

Monday, May 18, 2009

New Blog

So hi everybody! I've started a blog for my art stuff, which will feature some works in progress, finished works, possible art reviews, video game reviews, maybe some makeup reviews, and whatever else I feel like including.

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to.

So you may be thinking "what is this 'Plastic Voyeurs' business?" Well, Plastic Voyeurs is the name of a large ongoing body of work that I've been developing for the past few years. It focuses on dolls as substitutes for human models in those provocative poses we tend to see in advertising and entertainment. "Plastic Voyeurs" has two meanings. One, the viewer takes the title for themselves:

"voy·eur (voi-yûr')
A person who derives sexual gratification from observing the naked bodies or sexual acts of others, especially from a secret vantage point.
An obsessive observer of sordid or sensational subjects."

The "plastic" comes into play because the subject of voyeurism is a doll (technically though, the dolls I use are made of resin).

The other meaning can be transferred to the dolls themselves, as they are painted or photographed with a direct gaze to the viewer; in a way they are watching you too.

Frequently, I'm asked "why dolls?" I'm also told that they're "creepy" and make the viewer uncomfortable. I say, "Great! I'm doing my job!" The point of Plastic Voyeurs is to make the viewer uncomfortable! If you see a human model in the exact same pose, with the exact same look, you don't think twice. Maybe you even like it, right? (It's okay. You're supposed to. That's what they're going for.) But take out that human element, and then what? You feel disturbed.

Plastic Voyeurs examines the packaged "sexuality" that is being pushed on us non-stop. What I want people to keep in mind when they're viewing my work from the series is "What is sexuality? What is truly sexy?" Is it the pose? Is it the look? The lack of clothes? I've included all of those elements with the dolls, and yet, there's such a big difference with the audience's reaction. What is it about a doll VS. a human that makes that much difference?

You don't have to say it out loud, but these are the types of questions I'd like people to ask themselves when they see my work. Everyone will have their own answers and their own interpretations, and that's perfectly okay. Everyone brings their own set of "baggage" to any artwork which defines how they see and interpret things. If we all had the same opinions, well then, it just wouldn't be art.