misc.

Yet to be categorized.

i dig punk the most.

| Betsy

ever since the seeming dark days of high school, i have not-so-secretly loved the spinanes. at 18 i thought rebecca gates was a nothing but a genius when she sang, “did you give up punk for lent?”

i thought about this on the tube this afternoon while reading the new issue of punk planet. about how i got an email from a dear friend recently saying how glad she was that i was stickin’ to my ‘punk rock guns’ and ideals.

walking around london, there is nothing but evidence that the ‘spirit of ’77’ is alive and well.

but that’s not what my punk is all about.

it’s about teaching and learning and growing and rocking and making and creating and laughing and loving and well, being.

it’s not about the dick hebdigian notion about the clothes you wear, the vinyl you buy (either in wardrobe or music or both) or whether or not you consider anarchy politically viable. sometimes i think that’s forgotten about.

some of the best punks i know don’t own anything put out by lookout! or know who henry rollins is (in either career). why? because at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. it’s not about credentials. some of the punkest moments i’ve ever experienced were without a tattoo or grommet in sight.

as i’ve gotten older (29 on july 11!), i’ve finally begun to realize that it’s not about what you’ve done or who you’ve met, it’s about what your ultimate ideals are. i’ve seen many sparks lit in the teens, only to be extinquished by 21, but i’ve also been privileged enough to have been a part of awakenings that happened in people twice that age.

each time you make something with your own two hands or purchase something that was produced ethically or make choices that don’t weigh heavy on your heart you are creating your own mini-punk rock revolution.

by daring to follow your own dreams and passions you are shaking up the world just a wee bit, creating teeny tiny revolutionary ripples for the rest of us to add to. and i think that’s pretty neat, even though it has nothing to do with how many 7″s you own or whether or not you think that jawbreaker sounded better pre-blake’s operation.

for the record, i still think that rebecca gates is a genius. because ‘punk’ has little to do with a dresscode or a rulebook. it’s all about all those little idiosyncrasies that make you you and living your life the freest and bestest way you know how.

now go pat yourself on the back for being the punk rock revolutionary that you are. go on, you deserve it.
x

that lady, she was pretty smart..

| Betsy

i think there’s something in the air. everyone i know seems to be in a funk lately, including me.

i thought that spring was supposed to be the harbinger of excitement and possibilties, not malaise…

sometimes when i teach people how to knit or do some other sort of crafty thing, they tell me that they’re scared that they aren’t going to be any good. ‘how do you know when you’ve only just started,’ is what i try to remember to answer, when i know that i question myself constantly, too.

why am i doing this or that? what is driving me? lately it seems that everyone around me is asking themselves questions just like these.

today i read the following by the always inspiring Louise Bourgeois (if you’re wondering ‘who is that?’ here’s a brief bio):

from Art in Sanity:
.First Visit.
The connections that I make in my work are connections that
I cannot face.
They are really unconscious connections.
The artist has the privilege of being in touch with his or her
unconscious, and this really is a gift.
It is the definition of sanity.
It is the definition of self-realization.

.Fifth Visit.
My emotions are inappropriate to my size. So they bother me?
And I really have to get rid of them.
My emotions are my demons. The intensity…
It’s not the emotions themselves, it’s the intensity of the emotions- much
too much for me to handle.
And that is why I transform them. I transfer the energy to sculpture.
This applies to everything I do.
It has nothing to do with the craft.
It has nothing to do with the skills.
It has nothing to do with how to manage materials.
Materials are only materials, nothing more.
Materials are not the subject of the artist.
The subject of the artist is: Emotions… and ideas…
Both.

sometimes we think too much. instead of listening to that whisper of our inner selves, we self-analyze and self-critique and therefore, stand still.

of course, a rut is a rut only if you climb out the other side.

it’s that energy that allows us to create and grow. so why do we so often lose track of it despite the fact that we know it’s always there?

they tell me i think too much.

| Betsy

have you ever just wanted to take a break? earlier this week i went ‘on holiday.’ ok, so it was actually only 15 minutes from my house, but i was housesitting for a friend who was away for a few days. now i’m really thinking that i need a longer break, somewhere further away than just down the block.

over coffee yesterday morning, a friend of mine reminded me about WWOOF, or World-Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms. it’s weird how you can completely forget about something so amazing.

i’m at a crossroads (not a la britney, mind you), and unsure of whether or not to stay in london or return home to north carolina. i’d like to start some sort of grassroots place where lessons in various crafty skills could be taught, sort of like MAKE workshop in NYC.

for awhile now it’s been my dream to start some sort of space where i can work and teach, my friends can play shows on the weekends at backyard veggie BBQs, people can come and share new skills and i can sell not only stuff that i make, but stuff that friends of mine make, too. there are so many amazing people making so many amazing things, that i want to help them do what they love. as opposed to having a place where only things are sold, i want to run a place where things are handmade as well.

i just want to be able to create my own life rather than just re-enter the rat race. i wouldn’t mind writing more or learning how to make real raspberry jam, i just need to focus more on the former and corral my friends with culinary skills for the latter. working a 40 hour work week in a cubicle doesn’t figure into the future that i have drafted in my head.

for awhile it’s been a dream, but lately i’ve been wondering about the possibilities of making this draft a reality. some of the WWOOF farms have their own sheep and teach spinning and dyeing workshops. some of my friends are making so many amazing things. why can’t i create a place where all of these things are celebrated?

currently the main hurdle is that i don’t want to start something on my own. ideally it would be a place fun with other like-minded individuals, because that enables things to be more diverse and not have the tendency to stagnate.

i’m also just not sure where i want to be. if you have an opinion, cast your vote now. or alternatively, get off the computer and go make something useful.

x

waking up… slowly…

| Betsy

it was sunny in london today.

i took a walk down the thames to canary wharf and watched people enjoying their sunday afternoon.

i stopped for a moment and took it all in: a group of wee little boys on wee little bicycles whooshing past, people asleep in the grass enjoying that first heady rush where it’s finally warm enough to touch bare skin to bare grass, the lucky dandelions that narrowly escaped the recent cutting which made the air smell like the backyard of my childhood.

it’s amazing what happens when you slow down.

i’ve been stocking my kitchen with culinary basics and making things from scratch.

normally ‘cooking sucks’ is my catchphrase. generally i’m the dishwasher while my flatmates are the chefs.

but lately, i’ve been craving that joy that occurs when there’s good music on the stereo and a friend chatting to you about the day’s events while you create bits of nourishment from nothing.

i think that the slow food movement really has something to it. because there’s something intensely magical about what happens when you start paying attention to everything around you.

the whole thing behind craftivism is that it is a way of life, i.e. what happens when you start thinking about what you’re doing while you’re doing it. not obsessing per se, just relishing in your surroundings.

by being aware of what you’re doing, you realize why you’re doing it, which leads to more conscious choices.

but then again, i always get a bit of a kick in the ass in spring, because as everything outside wakes up from its winter’s nap, you can’t help but notice all the beauty.

spring reminds me that i forget to really look all too often. and looking is good.

oh, roland.

| Betsy

lately i’ve been housebound writing graduate school essays. i’ve been reading lots of really boring philosophers and sociologists in an effort to back up what i’m talking about. currently i’m writing my last essay (due on tuesday) about found photography. i’ve been looking at a lot of photographs on isthisyou.co.uk and thinking about people’s inspirations for their endeavours.

being stuck in a house with a laptop, a mound of books and way too much cold coffee has reminded me of how much energy i get from the city around me. and how many ideas. while i’m also inspired by the kind emails from people i haven’t met (yet), there’s something to be said about the collage that comes before me on the street. how people weave through each other and how you sometimes meet people and see aspects of yourself in them. the mystery and the beauty of it all is incredible. my own inspiration comes from those moments where my mind is idle and my eyes alert.

i’ve been reading a lot of barthes, and found this quote especially poignant,

What is the “you” you might or might not look like? Where do you find it- by which morphological or expressive calibration? Where is your authentic body? You are the only one who can never see yourself except as an image; you never see your eyes unless they are dulled by the gaze they rest upon the mirror or the lens (I am interested in seeing my eyes only when they look at you): even and especially for your own body, you are condemned to the repertoire of its images. (from Roland Barthes by Roland Barthes)

even though we can only see ourselves as an image, we do give a little part of ourselves to everything we make. as we try and make sense of who we are, we create, giving tiny pieces of ourselves away in the process. we may only be able to see ourselves via reflection, but i’d argue that the ‘real you’ could be found in those creations that you make. disregarding the fact that your hair or teeth may not be perfect, you become embodied via the works emanating from your own two hands.