stuck in the mud

Feeling very sluggish today, although there is loads to do.  Or there are loads to do.  Not sure about the grammar on that one.  I'm hosting the second round of ArTalks at the museum, hoping that we can get some of the missing generations talking about art.  And it would be nice if they ate the snacks I prepare for them.  Plus I've got a clay class going on all this week that I need to keep an eye on.  Can't forget my meager attempts at sewing schoolbags for a church charity either.  Add on top of that cleaning the house because a cousin is coming in for the family reunion and there isn't much time to focus on what really matters:  the thesis and job applications.

Of course, the kitchen can't clean itself, cousin or no cousin.

And my room is a mess.  A very uncharacteristic mess.  Have I lost my powers of organization?  Because I've been touting them to potential employers, and it would be prudent to make sure I can walk the talk I'm talking.

Things I'd like to highlight...hmm...I've been doing my part lately to help the economy.  I got my hair done at the Aveda Institute, getting all pretty and supporting my generation.  I always feel like a goofball there, but then the staff are always nice, and they gush over my hair...I end up feeling pretty.  And it smells good.  The one issue was I estimated an hour and a half to two hours...I was there almost four hours.  Ooops.  That cut into special man time.

I also stumbled across some online sales from Target  and Athleta.  Maybe I'll stop feeling frumpy with some new options.  Seeing as I love layering, though, I'll be frumpy till autumn comes.

There's just so much negativity at work, and it takes a lot of energy to summon smiles for visitors and students.  I wish I could be at a museum with a real connection to the community, one that is really making a difference.

art outside the museum

After a mediocre attempt to generate some excitement in the community about art (I failed to reel in any new fish, just the usual suspects), I was massively entertained by the art historical references in some unusual places.  Namely Futurama and The Simpsons.  Now, of course the Futurama episode in which the gang goes to "Future Roma" (haha), is a spoof of The Da Vinci Code, so it's indirectly art historical, but still.  In fact, the more I think about that show, which has wormed its way into my brain via a certain man's obsessive zeal, it's an incredible example of cartoon culture analyzing our own cultural identity.  Flipping the story of Leonardo Da Vinci on its head is only one instance in which those crazy writers and animators nerd out and inject history into the comedy. 

And really, if we could just blame all the art thefts and general badness on Mr. Burns, wouldn't life be swell?

Aside from playing "Twister" on a bunch of animated oil paintings--"Left hand Rembrandt!"--The Simpsons has always thrown a wrench in the typical lower class identity of Homer and Co. by revealing tiny moments of cultural awareness on the part of their characters.  I for one wouldn't mind having one of those characters come to an ArTalk.  But there are some real life people who just can't open their minds far enough.

Funny how you can find art on television.  Maybe that's why all the big museums now have LCD screens, and there are so many video installations.  That seems to be this century's current medium of choice.  And bridging the gap between oils and animation are a bunch of occasionally vulgar, fictional characters.  But how to use this for the benefit of this particular community, I have no idea...

compassion

It's not the be-all end-all...or end-all be-all...but something this country (as a whole society) lacks is compassion. Today there was a lady in line behind me who ordered a sub. No big deal there. Except that when it came down to picking veggies, she explained it wasn't for her...it was for the guy outside holding a sign that said "hungry." Now I've tried to give food instead of money before, and it didn't work. For some it's a health issue--food given by a stranger made them sick at some point--and for others, well, they'd rather have cigarettes or alcohol instead of food, unfortunately. If every single American was like the sub lady, we might be in a better situation than we are now.

I know it isn't so simple. Some people are too proud to ask for help. Others abuse the help that is given. All the Christmas food baskets my mother ever delivered couldn't solve the world's problems. But they helped those families have a merrier holiday.

A lot of Americans are afraid of becoming a "welfare state." These same Americans bemoan the dreary future for Medicare and Social Security (which is welfare...shhh! don't tell them!) And while Europe is slowly digging itself out of a rather deep financial hole, these Americans point eastward as if we need to learn a lesson. Well, we can learn a lesson right here on our own soil. The lack of compassion for others, those who are losing jobs and houses and livelihoods, is exactly what is sending this country down the drain. Like dirty bathwater. We cannot be the great nation of decades past when we have our own tired and poor yearning to be free (of debt) right here and now.

I've made no attempt to hide my bias toward my generation. I consider myself a bit of an advocate for the graduates and the interns and the assistants out there, being one myself. Yes, we need to create jobs for those who have lost them, which is what, in the millions now? But my focus is on the people who have not yet gotten a job. And I'm talking a real job with benefits and retirement and your very own desk and email account. I gave one of those up to go back to school, and although I most likely would have been "redirected" from the museum in the course of their renovation/lay-off-good-people campaign, I sometimes kick myself. There are "kids" out there, fellow generation Y-ers, who like me have moved back in with parents. Some send out 70 resumés a day and others have given up. Yes. There are recent graduates who have given up already. So much for commencing.

What is Congress telling my generation, when the interests of unions and industry make them focus on jobs for the older generations? When they filibuster an extension of unemployment benefits? Why can't we have the American Dream? Because we voted for Obama? Is this revenge?

I am about to commence the job search once again. And while the prospect of change has me a little giddy, I am deflated somewhat by the lack of compassion in my own backyard. When a sibling who has been working for over a decade complains about her retirement fund dwindling in such a way that (and I'm pretty sure this wasn't unintended) demonizes the very thing that has thrown me a lifeline--federal stimulus--I infer that older generations don't care what happens to us. As long as they can retire comfortably and drive their luxury vehicles, life is great. Meanwhile, remember those graduates I mentioned? Like me? Screw 'em. It's our fault for being born in the eighties. I should have known better...

Guess what. We'll be in charge some day. We are the future leaders. And then the next generation and then the generation after that. I've heard several conservatives preach about leaving debt for their grandchildren to pay...but no one is crying about hanging future generations out to dry. Let us get our start. Let us roll over our IRAs some day. It's not all about you and your retirement fund. Your wealth would be worthless, quite literally, if the next generations can't get their wealth started. So there's my socialist rant. With a capitalist twist...I want money. Let me earn it!

But I pledge this now: I will never drive a luxury vehicle.

conservation is communism

Just a mini-entry. I have faced adversity (and jokes of violence) in regard to my efforts to help the planet in any way I can only from one group of people. No, not the RNC. I don't even exist to them. I'm talking about my very own family. I am baffled that the idea of recycling paper plates incites such ire. Confused that rinsing plastic jugs results in angry glares. And disappointed that crushing cardboard boxes causes so much hate. Most of all I am hurt that my opinions and advice, so willingly given in the face of these reactions, cannot sway them to reduce, reuse and recycle. I am not surprised that government advertizements and cartoon spokesanimals fail to do it. But I thought they'd listen to me.

Our family has farmed the land for generations. Farmers should have the loudest environmentalist voices out there.

commencement

Ah, the move to gmail was like a breath of fresh air. We'll see...in another ten years, I might be just as sick of Google. But then some new company will have emerged, I hope. Another plus for being a googler is an easy transition here to blogger.

A little ode to my favorite evil corporation: Google, Pollock style.

I can't help but write a little introduction post. I'll be pasting some entries from the old site that have not yet been viewed. This is my first actual blog, that is, one that isn't attached to a networking site or an adolescent online diary. I shudder to think I used to write like that. So here we go.