Something about working on a collaborative piece of art completely rejuvenates my entire being. This weekend, it was an experimental art film shot by a local filmmaker and professor. My husband was in the film, and was the primary model. My model. Kevin Roy’s model. I was in awe, delicately filming him in and around a bathroom on the top floor at 500 Capitol Inn. Downtown. The sun was shining in his blue eyes just right. They’re beautiful. Framed by his long black hair, I am swooning.
Now it’s Monday night. Back to watching anime on netflix and hanging out with our young son.
Back to reality where we aren’t living in a dream, the subjects of an experiment by a highly creative mind. He’s as beautiful as ever.
That’s what was spray-painted, huge letters that slightly leaned towards the left on a concrete outpost at the top of a scenic overlook called dead mans pass in Oregon.
I got out of the outpost and climbed down, closer to the text. “So it is.”, I said to my companion. I wish it was not stolen. I guess there’s no real way to fix history. I think about it a lot, when I see myself and the other white colored people that I run into in the western United States. Sitting Bull would be disgusted with us, but here I am. I know where I’m from. I can apologize for it forever, but nothing would ever change the past.
I was up all night reading about territorial history in Idaho, Oregon, Washington, Wyoming and Montana. Thinking about that outpost. It was so fucking beautiful.
There’s a lot of ghost towns in Idaho, and I’d like to make a point to travel to them. I want to learn their stories, from all sides. The history of a small towns existence. I don’t consider any cities in Idaho to be really, truly “big”. Not in the sense that I’ve experienced. Boise is the biggest city here and it’s population is under 500k. I can drive through downtown in 10 minutes.
There’s a lot of cities that have populations sitting under 500, very small communities that I don’t understand how the population remains steady decade after decade.
Wouldn’t the children want to move? How does their economy function?
In the late 1800s many small villages and towns formed upon the false promise of gold in the Idaho-Oregon territory. The whites that traveled here did so not knowing, or more likely: not caring that this land was owned and promised to the Native populations that lived here. They fought for this land in the Battle of the Little BigHorn, and they WON! The Nez Perce Indians were supposed to live here in peace but we know how history plays out with white people and any non-white people.
Look at it today. Some cities were developed in Idaho on top of, what is it? Stolen Indigenous Land.
I swallowed my saliva. I don’t see native people out here. They have been systemically shoved into small reservations where they suffer from poverty, lack of education, opportunity and in many cases addiction.
We’re not doing enough. But that’s been the trend, hasn’t it?
Lets hold ourselves and our state representatives and government officials accountable for historic, systemic racism and its effects on modern day populations.
This is something I’ve been thinking/reading about lately. Mostly reactions to this article about a freshly minted 14 year old on social media who was shocked about the content posted about her by family without her knowledge.
We have a generation of babies right now that will likely emerge as adults in a world with internet.
Babies with videos and images of themselves being assaulted by cheese, learning how to speak and walk. Babies growing up, throwing tantrums and asking questions all documented- sometimes in its entirety- on the internet.
I feel the compulsion interesting and understandable. It has only become very recently that families were able to do more than simply pull photos out from your wallet or purse. Now that we are able to share online, we will overshare. This leaves each person vulnerable. Imagine what this data is doing for machine learning.
We are watching the first generation of people with internet raising their children.
Right now, teenagers exist in the United States that have been entirely denied a private childhood, and I think that’s a problem.
Blogging around your children robs them of something that was afforded to you: the right to have some of their most intimate and vulnerable moments as humans exposed to the internet without consent.
I don’t think that posting a photo is a bad thing, but the volumes of data provided to huge platforms as Facebook and similar is a very scary thought. I would imagine the learning would become so successful that predictions can be made on virtually anything about a person if for example Facebook had data on them from birth to adulthood.
While it would be best to not post photos at all on the internet, I already posted my son’s newborn photo on this website. I’m excited for him to be a part of the rest of my life, and I don’t regret it. I am making a promise to him and to myself that it would be the last one. It’s hard, because he is extremely beautiful to me but this feels like the right way to go.
I want to keep him informed about the opportunities that the internet can provide, as well as the dangers of it.
I want to teach him how to use the internet effectively.
This will be an interesting conversation as his father is not an “internet” person outside of youtube. I work online in the social media and advertising space. We both have vastly different and useful opinions on the internet to share. We also agree that the more time he spends in nature, the better off if will be.
I don’t make art enough these days to update the gallery, but I’m thinking about it. Life is tiring right now because little one is nearly 4 months old. I’ll draft something next weekend.
I hope you’ve noticed the work uploading more art on to this web page. I have a huge variety of work from photography to illustrations with pen to large scale mixed media/ acrylic paintings.
They span over a decade at least, so I’ve been entertaining the idea of respecting myself as an artist.
Am I an artist anymore? This is where my mind is at. It’s March 2nd, 2019. I’ve been pushing myself to prioritize making art, for my own mental health.
To come to terms with the rapid evolution of my life into a married mother. Trying to find out where Camille sits after all of these changes were and continue to be a challenge. I am doing well and should be proud of myself. This painting is actually fairly large and is painted over something I did back in July.
A car dealer came over to our apartment to look at some art to buy, a fast talking and real slick looking guy. I had listed several paintings on the app “LetGo“. He wanted to buy 4 paintings but only left with 2 because the works I physically have of are mostly quite small with 2 exceptions. He hated this one, I hated it and I painted over it. It has a devil, and I don’t much like the devil.
I guess when my husband said it, it really clicked. When you have a lot of money, you have big walls and want big art. I immediately took it off the wall, onto my easel and went over it with paint. Several layers of paint.
We’re going to be staying in Boise as a family for another 6 months, and the plan is to move back to Tampa Bay in late September so we don’t have to spend another winter in Idaho. I am going to keep this momentum of constant art creation on a much larger scale that my usual while we’re still out here in Boise. Every day I hold this boy and he’s so beautiful and sleeps and I make time for art. I’m married to the best guy I’ve ever met and life it truly awesome.