Stranger Things
Keni
Andulka
Three Goblin Art
Peter Solarz
🪼
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Mike Driver
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Jules of Nature
tumblr dot com
noise dept.
Today's Document
Origami Around
#extradirty
h
sheepfilms
Claire Keane
wallacepolsom
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@ckbrooks
What are these barriers that keep people from reaching anywhere near their real potential? The answer to that can be found in another question and that’s this: Which is the most universal human characteristic: fear, or laziness?
Louis Mackey, in Waking Life (Richard Linklater, 2001)
Why is Andy Warhol’s Campbell Soup Piece so famous?
Basically it was huge middle finger to the art world at that time. Which is basically what every great artists does. They take the status quo and make something uniquely familiar but different enough that know one can quite copy it within the bound of that periods art.
Warhol was one of the first artists to really incorporate and popularize pop culture into the art world. He was overtly commercial and money oriented, and making commercial success out of the icons of commercial success leaves the audience wondering whether he is lazy, a thief, a genius, a critic of pop-culture or an opportunist.
/u/hypergnostic + /u/superfudging
(via sdsimple)
Hugh Laurie and Rowen Atkinson
This sketch knocks Shakespeare off of the pedestal academia has put him on. It would remind students that Shakespeare, as talented as he was, was still just a man.
"The Shakespeare Project"
Trust Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry to comedically exemplify the stereotype of the pomp and pretension behind Shakespearean performances.
"The Shakespeare Project"
Universal.
Shakespeare is never easy, no matter who you are... but just because it's difficult, doesn't mean it's not worth doing.
"The Shakespeare Project"
Has anyone else noticed that this joke…
is a play on this joke…
LORD POLONIUS: What is the matter, my lord?
HAMLET: Between who?
LORD POLONIUS: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.
Lion King is a riff of Hamlet? not the first time I've heard that...
"The Shakespeare Project"
Learning to Love Again
There's rock bottom. And then there is the other rock bottom. It's like a false summit. You make it over that last ridge and you can see the top of the mountain right above you. And then you get there, and you see another one. There's always another rock bottom. And that rocky bottom isn't always the same. Sometimes its soft and cool like sand and after you hit the ground there is still something oddly comforting about it. Something peaceful and restful that keeps you from getting back up, something that lets you lay there for a minute to catch your breath and you lose track of time. And then there is the jagged rock bottom where you break your back and skewer your soul on something sharp and broken, and getting back up is the most painful thing you've ever forced yourself to do because you realize just how much damage you've done. That's where I am. I'm broken and bleeding and in more pain than I can ever remember, but I'm determined to get back up. I've been on the sand before. I've lost track of time and waited until someone found me. It was easier then to be passive, to watch the world pass by and wait for the moment when I could slip back into the current without a disturbance. I was better. I was moving forward. I was moving forward… but that didn't mean I was better. I was functional, mostly. I was back on track, mostly. But somewhere along the line to hitting rock bottom the first time, I lost my spark. I lost that piece of me that made me an individual, that gave me the strength behind my voice, that made me a gift to the world instead of a burden.
Someone intelligent once said, "If you lie, you will cheat. If you cheat, you will steal. And if you steal, you will kill." Originally, I thought it was a little over dramatic. By that logic everyone will have killed somebody by the time they die. But… I've been lying. Originally I saw it as a necessity of my situation. One giant white lie that was never intended to hurt anyone, especially because it was only a matter of time before it would be no longer be a lie. It would simply be a truth. But then I had to keep lying, to protect the other lie- and those were meant to deceive. And then lying became second nature, and I was lying when there was no need to because I could control the way people thought about me, and I realized that that kind of lying was essentially cheating. I was cheating. And that kind of cheating steals pieces of your soul away. It steals the best pieces of your friendships and relationships. It steals your ability to see the beauty in what you cannot control, and it steals your hope. And that can kill.
A friend of mine once described me as complex. When I asked him what that meant, he broke it down for me: intelligent, attractive, athletic, tenacious, talented, self motivated, undisciplined, capricious, inconsistent. Not all of those adjectives are flattering, but I think he was pretty spot on. When I love what I'm doing, I'm hardworking, creative, motivated, dedicated. But, I don't love everything I do. I'm rarely doing something I love. Love is a strong emotion, and it can be exhausting to maintain, and nearly impossible to manufacture. Which means that a lot of the time, I'm not hardworking, or motivated, or dedicated. Creativity is a different story. Creativity is a part of you; it's always there, flowing through your mind, making you think about the world in your own special way. You never lose creativity, you just lose the ability to get that creativity out of your head and into whatever medium you chose to use. It's the necessary hard work, motivation, and dedication that gets my creativity out of my head. That's what I lose when I stop caring. And I've stopped caring about a lot of things; once you lose hope, not much burns away the fog and lets you see and feel the warmth of the sun again.
All of this creates a terrible environment for college. I've been in college, off and on, for seven years now. And I'm still not done. And I just want to be done, because I'm the worst version of myself when I'm in school. I learned I had ADD after a disastrous freshman year at American University in D.C. In fact, my first trip to sandy Rock Bottom was after American, and while I learned more about myself in those eight months, I can't say I learned a whole lot else. School doesn't work for me. It works for almost everyone else, but it doesn't work for me. I never figured it out, and all I want to do is get as far away from school as I possibly can. Except, I'm so close to finishing, not being in school isn't an option. However… being in school is what's killing me. So how long can I ride this Catch-22 before something happens?
Well, it happened, this morning. There's a professor in my department who I have grown to admire in a very short amount of time. He's a brilliant playwright and director, and an insatiably curious and generous scholar. He's also a philosopher in the way every truly great artist needs to be a philosopher. It's inspiring. And that doesn't happen to me anymore: I don't get inspired, things don't move me, I'm not curious, I don't want to learn while I'm in school. But he gave me back something I didn't even realize I was missing. I am, when I'm around him, hopeful. So, naturally, I tore that all down with me when I hit rock bottom. I asked for help, and when he gave it, I couldn't manage to pull myself together. There's only so much time and energy you can give somebody, and I abused the extra he found to give me. Losing the respect of an artist and mentor who you admire, who inspires you, and who you could only hope to aspire to, is heartbreaking. It's back breaking. It's the moment you feel your spirit break against the rocks. But it's also the moment that makes you change.
So, this is me trying to change, trying something new. It'll be interesting, and painful, and confusing, and probably boring, but somehow I'm still hopeful. I will care, again. I will love, again.
