New More City Curriculum

While at the National Art Education Association Conference in New York City last week, something didn't feel right. Maybe it's because I've spent the better part of this past year traveling and working solo and too many familiar faces in one place felt foreign.
Many sessions felt like how a professor at the University of Michigan once described modern lectures: "a pointless loop of information moving from one computer to another without it ever passing through anyone's brain." This wasn't always the case, of course, but I found my curriculum (so to speak) elsewhere, often just riding the subway and getting lost. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love public transportation. That, along with public libraries, is the reason I still believe in humanity. Museums are pretty okay, too. I found my curriculum when I left the claustrophobic conference and walked from Times Square, through Central Park, and finally to The Met. There, I was greeted by a 500 year old Bishop holding a book and looking eerily understanding of my predicament. He totally gets it.
The week in NYC allowed me time to visit the MoMA to see 'good' but probably overrated Cindy Sherman hoopla and then I was able to see what I'm sensing is an overwhelmingly UNDERrated retrospective of another (!) woman artist showing at the same time: Sanja Ivecovic's "Sweet Violence." How timely for International Women's Day. Both women have been making work about gender since the 1970s and I regret to inform you that it is still "fresh."
I finally visited Printed Matter and even 192 Books across the street in Chelsea. And then I visited the Center for Book Arts. All places were inspiring us to hold objects in our hands and think about other human beings.

Aaron Cohick/New Lights Press, The New Manifesto of the New Lights Press, 2009, showing at Center for the Book Arts.

 What was not inspiring us to think about others was the hyper-commercialized convention I was supposed to be at that encouraged me to make a free Mehndi Art Glove. Ta-da! You understand Indian Art and its relation to latex! If, as an outsider to the field, I picked up the cover of the convention booklet and read this, I would want to cut art education from schools, too.

 

I did get to see hidden gems of thoughtfulness at the conference (however achingly under-attended), and presented a bit on my own work with other great researchers and educators. I learned about Task Parties from artist Oliver Herring and got to visit with a former teacher, Doug Beube, at his studio in Brooklyn. His new book is a must for anyone interested in books and art.

Phew, that was a lot of reading. Now, let's all return to our respective screens.

Spirit-"less" Airlines

One-way ticket to Mexico

The idea to go to Mexico to teach -or at least learn- appeared as quietly and as logically to me as the idea to cross a street when the light turns green. I should go now.
In case I fell asleep at the wheel, I found a subletter, a car sitter, and a 1978 issue of National Geographic to remind me that I really was going. So this National Geographic (pictured below) featured this woman who trekked across the Australian outback by herself with 4 camels. I randomly found the issue and IT SPOKE TO ME. I found out this woman also wrote a whole book about her solo expedition. I immediately located it and devoured it. I have no intention of walking hundreds of miles in Australia or getting to know camels better but I think it was research for Mexico. Did I read books on living in Mexico? Do I speak Spanish? Absolutely not. Did I read a book on a woman in the desert for several months by herself? Obviously!

When I got to the end of the book, I sketched out a sculpture and finally "realized" that sculpture with what little supplies I haven't packed away and only hours before boarding the plane.

Someone already asked if the sculpture is a book. Yes, it is. You can read it and interact with it.

I have been joking that I have put more work into planning a good theme party than I have this move to Mexico.  So, dear friends, if this blog is how you are hearing about my departure, don't be offended. I barely got a chance to inform myself. Weeks after adopting the aging issue of a National Geographic as my bible, I just happened to notice the article on the next page: MEXICO.

I used to be a Painter.

Still tangled

This is why I haven't been blogging lately...among other things:

Free Chicago

I went cross country skiing at Northerly Island this past weekend. What is this Island you ask? It's right by the Adler Planetarium and used to be Meigs Field. Mayor Daley turned an airport (bulldozed secretly in the middle of the night) into a recreational park on the lake in the 90s. Still confused? Then you probably aren't from Chicago. You can see a google earth blogger write more about it here.
The blog writer is very excited that, " At least we can keep Mayor Daley from the satisfaction of seeing his new park in these popular applications."
The skiing and snowshoeing is FREE at Northerly Island. You can even rent them for free from the Chicago Park District there. Parking is also FREE. More info here.

 The second free thing I must tell you, particularly if you are a teacher, is about S.C.A.R.C.E. It is a non-profit recycling center for educational materials.  I drove out to it all the way in Glen Ellyn, IL but it was totally worth it! Who's this Ellyn? She's my new best friend and she lives in the Glen. Just for being a teacher and reporting what I take, I was able to walk down the aisles grabbing books upon books off the shelves. JACKPOT. They have other donated items come through besides books but books is what I needed and books is what I got. Did I mention it was free? Go to their website! http://www.scarceecoed.org/

Not Another Picture of the Snow

In the "snow daze" that was this past week, I still managed to think about my thesis work for a bit. A large amount of my preparation has been to collect books from all over the city. Like the bull dozer that I watched haul massive amounts of snow onto the beach, I slowly have been shoveling books into my car. I'm in my third week of carrying them box by box to a high school art classroom.

Watering igloo so it will grow.

Oh, and I attempted an igloo. It's still under construction. It will be done in May.

Jean goes to Haiti

*Full pics on facebook*

For about 10 days, I traveled through Haiti. My trip was first inspired by the idea that I should visit my old childhood friend, MaryJo, in Port-Au-Prince where she's been working for a while. My motto is to visit people you know in other countries or places whenever possible. I believe travel makes you a better human being. It turns out that my former boss also would be in Haiti while I was visiting. Leading up to the trip, I planned to visit a school and teach. My landlady, Peggy, a high school teacher here in Chicago, heard about this and took up a collection of donated school supplies at her school. (Thank you!) I packed 50 pounds of school supplies (American Airlines limit) to take down with me. Because my old boss, Sue, also would be heading down with her mother, Doris, at the same time, they handed me another army bag of diapers to take down to an orphanage as well. School supplies, diapers, and 5 words in Creole...sounds like a great trip, right?
As I was warned, arriving in Port-Au-Prince airport is, well, something to blog about...several men approached-no, pounced on our carts of baggage as we wheeled ourselves out to our ride. Now I know why some of my first words in creole were "Pa touche"- don't touch!

Beyond the crazy airport, I saw the sights and sounds of Haiti...some of the first being the iconic tap taps, Haiti's unofficial public transport system.  A country where people like to express themselves through painting their cars??? I liked Haiti already. The ornately painted trucks with inspiring inscriptions such as "Fear my Brother" "Jesus My Mercy" and  "69 69 69." I don't think the translation for the last one is in the Creole/English dictionary. Hmm.
In preparation for my short lesson I was going to give that coming Monday to a school, I visited the school grounds and pastor of the school's church. The school was devastated by the earthquake and since then the 80 students in the school have gathered in a large tent next door with benches and chalkboards. Talk about a small education budget. Having not met the students but at least seen the space, I went about devising a lesson I could bring to the students with the supplies I could carry. As often happens in teaching, it was I who learned most from the lessons.
Another part of my Haitian experience was the ability to surrender control over any given situation. Hired by MaryJo's organization, on Monday morning bright and early, I was escorted by a driver and my interpreter, to an outlying town from Port-Au-Prince called Croix des Bouquets. It is a town known for its artistic metal work. Before even getting there, the driver's car broke down and we stalled on the side of the road. He hailed a moto-taxi to pick up another car. So I waited in the backseat of the disabled car with Erich, my interpreter, and I taught him my lesson as practice. My plan was that we were to make little autobiographical books that morning. Ha. It resembled something like that.

We eventually made it to Croix des Bouquets, mid-morning, and were greeted by far fewer students than expected. This was the Monday before the anniversary of the earthquake, January 12th, and many students stayed home for break until after the anniversary. So, with Improv as my Savior, I began my lesson... those in attendance were about twenty students spanning the ages of 4-16, the 3 teachers there that day, the pastor, a local artist, and even my driver, participated in the lesson...my first art lesson...in Creole. Totally normal. And I believed after that day that I could do anything.

Through meeting MaryJo's co-workers, neighbors, and a school community, I learned that Haiti is full of amazingly hospitable and spirited people...oh, what I would pay to hear Bernard, the house guard, say one more time with his warm smile, "BONJOU!"

With a little Compas dancing and Troubadou music thrown in there, some Creole tutoring from neighbor Samuel, UN troops on every other road,  money changers with rifles strapped against their chest on the street, chaotic drives through "no-rules" streets without a seatbelt to save your life...literally...it was time to move on from Port-Au-Prince to mellow Jacmel. I mean, I had some diapers to deliver. Jacmel is a smaller, way more chilled out town 3 hours away through the mountains. On the way to the Port-Au-Prince bus station, on the anniversary of the earthquake, I saw many people marching through the street. Someone handed a little leaflet through our window reading-roughly- that "the people of the tent camps need homes, work, and loans."

Work by graffiti artist, Jerry, in PAP next to street vendor.

Last night of MUSIK

Bus Passenger

Sue and Zaka buy Jimmy the dog from the lady in the background

Samuel dropped me off at the 'bus station,' a collection of trucks in a chaotic market of vendors and rubble. He helped negotiate my price and I sat up front in between the driver and an old man with my shins pushed against the dashboard. I braced myself for what I thought might be the bus ride of my life. The bus leaves when it's full and in the meantime I had several people reaching their arms inside the bus showing me their 7ups, pastries, cell phone chargers, and chewing gum. We finally took off through the mountains for some breathtaking scenery. There is one guide book out right now by Lonely Planet (one of perhaps the only that attempts guidance through Haiti) that gave the most amusing advice for women and bus travel in Haiti, it reads:"Haitian roads are abysmal and, as public transport is extremely bouncy, consider wearing a sports bra, especially on longer journeys, where you should also wear a skirt to allow for roadside toilet breaks." Noted.
What they did not prepare me for was the 'bus-bug.' I was bitten by something and began wriggling like a crazy person to see, with no success, what had taken a bite out of my stomach. Two days later it became one heck of a welt. I'm still not sure what was hanging out inside my pants.
When we got to Jacmel, Sue was to meet me on a moto, a motorcycle taxi, and take me to the art center. Through some mixture of French, Spanish, Creole, and English, I communicated to the driver that my friend was not there to pick me up yet and  I needed to call her. She finally found me and we piled onto the moto with the driver holding the diaper army bag in front, Sue in the middle, and me with my backpack holding on for dear life on the back. Personal space is a little different in Haiti but I never thought I would be this close to my former boss...on a moto...in Haiti.

 

Jacmel turned out to be a beautiful place. It was a very charged experience in that I was arriving on the day of many processions and ceremonies marking the earthquake's anniversary. My former boss, Sue, was helping plan an event for their new art center in town. Amid a sculpture exhibition by local artists, a vodou priest commemorated the loss of Sue's best friend, Flo, in the earthquake through a sand painting on the sidewalk. The evening included beautiful traditional Haitian dancing and live music in the street in front of the art center.

I had the privilige of staying with some great new friends and helping get those diapers to its final destination. Despite the statistically challenging atmosphere I had put my immune system in, I'm happy to report that I never got sick during my travels...well until the second bus ride of my life...

On the bus ride back to Port-Au-Prince to catch our plane home, I was stuck in the back seat of the bus this time and with little food in my stomach to keep me from feeling nauseous when we hit the first bump. Sure enough, practically sitting on my former boss's mother's lap, I leaned across and puked out the window going through the mountains...in Haiti! I was quickly given a bag to vomit into inside the bus so that I didn't puke onto the outside of the car. I managed to throw up and laugh at the same time at the ridiculousness of it all. Part way through the ride, I had to get out of the bus to let another woman out. To my surprise she was holding 4 chickens, 2 in each hand, upside down by the legs, as she exited. So not only was I puking on a bus in the mountainside of Haiti, I was doing it while sitting over 4 chickens without even noticing.
Mwen renmen Ayiti! I will be back someday. Because after all, I left my heart-and my breakfast-in the mountains of Haiti.

Jacmel Sunrise

Where is your light source?

I had the privilege of meeting the inspiring, insightful, "illuminating", and hilarious cartoonist Lynda Barry this week in a roundtable discussion at SAIC. I even mustered the courage to show her some of my own drawings from my very prolific period called: 1st through 3rd grade. She inspired me to go back to my own childhood drawings and remember what I was thinking then.

This pencil drawing is from the pad of paper that was always kept by the phone to take messages. I was 6 years old and my mom had the wisdom to hold onto it. I'm guessing I was thinking about the sewer system underneath the streets. I'm not sure if the lady's careful disposal of trash despite her unruly elbow was an early comment on environmental action. Lynda Barry did mention that I had a keen sense of light sources in my drawings. Sure enough, the drawing above includes the car's headlights in the background. Lynda included a light source above my name when she signed my copy of her book, One!Hundred!Demons!. She just plain rocks and has become my newest light source.

I'll let my Books do the Talking

I'll be the first to admit that my blog posts have been underwhelming these days...so maybe this will win you back.
I have two of my book works (those strange sculptural book-like art pieces that I do) exhibiting (outside of my house) this coming month.Yes, I still paint, but painting is so provincial these days. Not dead, just provincial. Book Arts is where it's at, my friends! My pieces will be at the Williamsburg Art and Historical Society in Brooklyn, October 12-November 27, 2010. The show is called Tri-Fold: New Perspectives on Book Arts .

If you haven't had the privilege of being over at my place watching me drink wine and show you my books for hours at a time, then you can skip over to Brooklyn and see some of them without my awkward commentary and cheap booze I would be pushing on you. Well, I have no guarantee on what caliber of refreshments the Williamsburg folks have to offer, but I'm guessing it's nicer than my 2-buck-chuck and off-brand cheese. The last time I was in this part of Brooklyn was 2005 and I was eating organic lunches and buying overpriced vintage dresses. But I'm about to class up the joint with my artwork! (Seriously, it is an honor to be showing my work at this great venue with so many fantastic  artists!)
If you are part of most of my readership that is probably going to spend the opening night reception watching Susan Boyle youtube videos (Here's a good one to get you started:
, don't fret. Here is my work that will be on display:

In the Changing Road Map Book, journal writing and found pages from books are embedded in winding and sometimes circular paths. The reader can reconfigure the multiple layers of folds so that the paths link with other paths, creating a new network. These pathways reference rivers, veins, maps, the Internet, literacy, and the changing systems of thinking and communicating information.

The Infinity Book was originally a book about God that was hallowed out and embedded with personal journal writing. A prayer is woven through its center in the shape of the symbol for infinity. Its text can be pulled around and around as an infinite prayer with no beginning and no end.

Of course, if you are in the New York area, I hope you can stop by and see the show and report back to me!

Book gets press(ed)

You might remember a post from last year showing my Computer Book in progress in North Carolina. It was an obsessive book I carried with me on my daily walks, slowly turning the text into Os and 1s.
I'm happy to report that this sculptural book work is currently being shown this summer in Oklahoma City along side some very accomplished artists for whom I have great respect!
The show, at Artspace at Untitled in Oklahoma City, was called Altered Books. Here's some press from the exhibit:
An article from a local paper: http://www.newsok.com/article/3475517?searched=altered%20books&custom_click=search
and then watch the beginning of this video carefully. The Computer Book gets a little cameo role for a few seconds!

Exploiting the Nude Female

I'm going to exploit one of my thesis readings here- a reading chosen for an entirely different topic- to blog about something else. (Notice my complete disregard for proper citation here. Screw it.) But what I will tell you is that this is a picture of a life drawing class at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 1905. A hundred years later, the nude female wouldn't be the model; she'd be the performance artist. Art school now and then. Wow.

You've come a long way, baby.

Nerd Alert

Okay, here's a quick blurb of images to sum up the week. "Must. Make. Things. Connect." -said the little thesis voice in my head. Here's a book work from an undergrad at SAIC's BFA show. Book artists. We just keep doing the same thing over and over! And I fully admit I love it. This genre just keeps repeating itself!
Now watch how I connect this book image above to the view from my Thesis class below. (My thesis is related to books.) This is also what a thesis binder looks like, boys and girls.
Now I will connect my thesis class to this image of a lecture I attended. I was late for my thesis class that day actually because I was sitting in on an art history lecture about the human body through history...or something. The professor claims it is the first lecture ever given in history via an iPad. I have no proof of this but I felt cutting edge.
Now I will connect this nerdiness above to a whole different nerdiness below. Soul Asylum. Yes. Soul Asylum. I saw them Saturday. There, I said it.
This image is just for emphasis. (You know, this blog post is sounding remarkably like my annotated image list from my Curriculum and Instructions class- inside joke: FMT.)
And this image is connected because I thought this, too, was a riot. As it turns out "Latino fiesta" tastes remarkably like my favorite cookie that I dearly miss from my days in Australia. The amazing Tim Tam. I actually left some clothes out of my suitcase in Sydney so I could pack more Tim Tams.
And now I will connect that image to this image of the aforementioned excellent Australian cookie...or bisquit as they say.
I miss you, Tim Tam. But, alas, I found a new lover: the Latino fiesta.

If you've made it this far down the blog post (congrats), please leave a comment for me answering this:
What is your definition of a nerd?