A random account of trials and tribulations, laughter, rain vs snow, and aesthetic pleasures.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Confusion Never Ceases to Complicate Simple Endeavors
Transition Time. Heading to Chiang Mai for an interview/observation at a newly established Montessori school. Am beyond excited about the possibilities and opportunities that will surely unfold as time goes on, but simultaneously frightened beyond reason.
I am aware of my strengths. I am also aware of my weakness'. I worry to return to the land of normality and be exiled for my lack of care towards the dirt in my fingernails or the coffee stain on my skirt. The permanent addition of flowers to my skin also make the journey, whilst more aesthetically pleasing, shaky for fear of being misunderstood. I'm good at what I do and my ideas, when combined with the right people, succeed and have the potential of becoming something larger, something visible, something tangible.
But, alarm clocks and dress codes and mood swings and deadlines... these are part of a world I want nothing to do with.
Many would say this is a juvenile approach to reality, I even said that. However, the more I toy with it, the more I realize, it's not at all. It's simply a healthy recognition. I know myself. And I'm the only person who has to live with myself. If I am going to remain happy and open to the world, I need my work to compliment my being and my being to compliment my work. This idea shouldn't be so foreign.
The position is for a toddler classroom, 4 hours a day, 5 days a week. The school just opened and they say they are in need of someone with a strong background in Montessori to help lay all the pieces in the right place. They also happen to be in touch with the Burmese Refugee Project whose aim is to build schools for Burmese refugee children. This is how I will hopefully be spending my evenings.
Aside from the job, the owner has been very generous and enthusiastic about my arrival. We've spoken about my conducting a teacher's training as well as being an unofficial mentor to the current instructor there. They've also offered to house me with family and help me obtain a visa by enrolling in Thai language school. If all this is to happen then all the pieces of my plan will have fallen into place.
It's a frightening time when all of a sudden ideas are forced into action. Even with Art I pause at these times. The actual recording, or executing a shoot, or simply showing my work to others. It's the same in my professional life. Giving the lessons, planning the parties, meeting with parents... Goodness.
I hope they like me.
I am aware of my strengths. I am also aware of my weakness'. I worry to return to the land of normality and be exiled for my lack of care towards the dirt in my fingernails or the coffee stain on my skirt. The permanent addition of flowers to my skin also make the journey, whilst more aesthetically pleasing, shaky for fear of being misunderstood. I'm good at what I do and my ideas, when combined with the right people, succeed and have the potential of becoming something larger, something visible, something tangible.
But, alarm clocks and dress codes and mood swings and deadlines... these are part of a world I want nothing to do with.
Many would say this is a juvenile approach to reality, I even said that. However, the more I toy with it, the more I realize, it's not at all. It's simply a healthy recognition. I know myself. And I'm the only person who has to live with myself. If I am going to remain happy and open to the world, I need my work to compliment my being and my being to compliment my work. This idea shouldn't be so foreign.
The position is for a toddler classroom, 4 hours a day, 5 days a week. The school just opened and they say they are in need of someone with a strong background in Montessori to help lay all the pieces in the right place. They also happen to be in touch with the Burmese Refugee Project whose aim is to build schools for Burmese refugee children. This is how I will hopefully be spending my evenings.
Aside from the job, the owner has been very generous and enthusiastic about my arrival. We've spoken about my conducting a teacher's training as well as being an unofficial mentor to the current instructor there. They've also offered to house me with family and help me obtain a visa by enrolling in Thai language school. If all this is to happen then all the pieces of my plan will have fallen into place.
It's a frightening time when all of a sudden ideas are forced into action. Even with Art I pause at these times. The actual recording, or executing a shoot, or simply showing my work to others. It's the same in my professional life. Giving the lessons, planning the parties, meeting with parents... Goodness.
I hope they like me.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Sticks and Stones
I spoke to a guy from South Africa yesterday.. He asked me what I do and what I want to do. I told him my hypothetical plans and he looked at me and said, "That's just a hobby. That's not a viable way to make money. That's not a career. You do realize this right? There are so many dreamers out there. But you're smarter than that, right? That's your hobby."
I looked him directly in the eyes, smiled and excused myself from the room.
When I entered my bedroom, I just sat. I sat and I thought about his words and my words and they all just started to jumble together so I opted to have another beer. Not the best solution, but certainly the fastest and easiest.
To say that wanting to create an NGO that supports art and in turn the art supports the NGO, is anything but a hobby. Right? I always thought hobbies were things you do for yourself, when you're not at work, that you don't expect to make anything from. And, as for photography, who's to say that's not a profession? Are all the photographers, journalists, musicians, actors, directors, artists, dancers all just hobbyists?
Of course not!
Oi... I know I should take certain comments with a grain of rice, but it came at a time where I was already in a near panic. I sincerely don't understand people who use their words to create doubts and fears in others. Especially when your words can do exactly the opposite. They can carry, support, encourage, teach and calm. Why would anyone opt for the prior?
I looked him directly in the eyes, smiled and excused myself from the room.
When I entered my bedroom, I just sat. I sat and I thought about his words and my words and they all just started to jumble together so I opted to have another beer. Not the best solution, but certainly the fastest and easiest.
To say that wanting to create an NGO that supports art and in turn the art supports the NGO, is anything but a hobby. Right? I always thought hobbies were things you do for yourself, when you're not at work, that you don't expect to make anything from. And, as for photography, who's to say that's not a profession? Are all the photographers, journalists, musicians, actors, directors, artists, dancers all just hobbyists?
Of course not!
Oi... I know I should take certain comments with a grain of rice, but it came at a time where I was already in a near panic. I sincerely don't understand people who use their words to create doubts and fears in others. Especially when your words can do exactly the opposite. They can carry, support, encourage, teach and calm. Why would anyone opt for the prior?
Monday, December 27, 2010
BANGK(zero)K Art and Music Festival
The days have melded into nights which have turned into days, over and over and over again for the past week. Until now. The first annual Bangkok Zero Art and Music Festival has just ended. I've been documenting the whole experience as the official photographer of the festival, having the privilege of meeting fantastic artists- musicians, dancers, painters, videographers, performance artists, photographers- from around the world. I learned such priceless information, expanded my mind to ideas never thought, and somehow created a slight plan of action concerning who I'm going to be when I grow up. Or maybe realizing who I've grown up to be...
Regardless of such frivalties, my portfolio is slowly building. And I have never been more satisfied with the work I am doing. I have many, many, many things to learn, but I'm loving every minute of it.
Here are some shots of the festival. I hope you enjoy!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/prettybluelinesxxx/sets/72157625682206690/

Regardless of such frivalties, my portfolio is slowly building. And I have never been more satisfied with the work I am doing. I have many, many, many things to learn, but I'm loving every minute of it.
Here are some shots of the festival. I hope you enjoy!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/prettybluelinesxxx/sets/72157625682206690/

Saturday, December 11, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
It's The Little Things
Every now and again, it hits us. We are tiny. We are tiny segments of reality only perceivable to those few and far between. To those who perceive us and those whom we perceive we are each affected to degrees never imaginable without the actual experience.
I considered what would happen if I gave the same care and consideration to every form of matter around me. This led me to have countless crazy dreams both unsettling and unwelcome, but appreciated none-the-less. It was because of these dreams that I awoke, once again, at the crack of dawn to grab my camera and go for a little walk. I admired all the colors and snapped away filling my imagination with the stories of people and reasons for the existence each scene. With that I created this:
A small photo album of what exists beneath my feet, with the one exception of wires hanging over my head, which I rarely take the time to admire. The point of all it being, enjoy the little things. Every last one of them.
ani difranco - studying stones
I am out here studying stones
Trying to learn to be less alive
Using all of my will
To keep very still
Still even on the inside
I've cut all of the pertinent wires
So my eyes can't make that connection
I am holding my breath
I am feigning my death
When I'm looking in your direction
'Course numb is an old hat
Old as my oldest memories
See that one's my mother
And that one's my father
And that one in the hat, that's me
It's a skill I'd hoped to abandon
When I got out on the open road
But any more pent up emotion
And I think I'm gonna explode
There's never been an endeavor so strange
As trying to slow the blood in my veins
To keep my face blank
As a stone that just sank
Until not a ripple remains
I am high above the tree line
Sitting cross legged on the ground
When all of the forbidden fruit has fallen and rotted
That's when I'm gonna come down
'Course numb is an old hat
Old as my oldest memories
See that one's my mother
And that one's my father
And that one in the hat, that's me
It's a skill I'd hoped to abandon
When I got out on the open road
But any more pent up emotion
And I think I'm gonna explode
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)












