Limited Passion & Happy Accidents

  As much as I do fixate on proportion and accuracy when I draw, fluidity when I write, and complexity and ambiguity when endeavoring to complete other artistic projects, my work’s apparent quality and the technique involved is rarely the source of my frustration as a creative individual. In fact, the creative individual is the…

The Diary of Virginia Woolf

“If I didn’t feel so much, how easy it would be to go on.” The accessibility of something so informative as an artist’s biography/diary is not something that had ever occurred to me. For years I have eaten up every secret, every story, that has been relayed to me by my mentors and have treasured…

Alienation

On Friday, STAC visited the Met Breuer on another memorable and stimulating field trip. The museum is currently boasting an extensive collection of photographs by Diane Arbus, paintings by Kerry James Marshall, and an installation of works by Paul Klee. All were equally fascinating. I have spent the past few months trying to decipher pre-calc…

Why Writing?

I really do not mind writing these posts. I do take pleasure in writing, though this is not the only reason I enjoy this quarter’s blogging assignment. Where other students may complain about the deadlines and about being forced to write, I look fondly upon my Sunday nights spent contributing to my website. The thought…

A Man Once Told Me

This used to be a dress I wore white silk with a grey collar but I don’t wear it anymore it clashes with my pallor a man once told me so I wear red and green and gold and every color of the rainbow but since my pale soul was sold I never wore my…

Sunburn

Entwined limbs once danced in fragranced baths, sprawled on torrid sand that burned pale thighs. I pine for grass stains on worn denim, but you “don’t remember” and I fear it’s time I forget too.