Happy Tuesday, everyone. Are we ready to take on the week?
Date: July 23, 2013
Days Spent on Project: 156
Location: Apartment, Washington Heights, NYC
Person I would have sent it to: Angie W.
My last year at Kenyon, I spent a very large portion of my free time hanging out with a group of five ladies, who shared a college apartment on the north end of campus. (It seems weird to call it an “apartment,” even though that’s what it was; in hindsight, a college apartment that you choose without an epic real estate hunt, lease signing, choosing your own furniture, paying utilities and rent… well, it seems like a “play” apartment, you know?)
Anyway, four people who were to become good friends lived there. They had all been roommates/hall-mates their first year, and had much shared history. I feel like I was the newer person to the group, having been folded in during my second year.
Almost every evening was spent there; doing what, I can hardly remember. Certainly, lots of talk, watching movies on a VCR, listening to music, complaining about our workload and campus life, making fun of each other, impromptu dance parties, parties, getting ready for parties, or just killing time.
I’m pretty sure I was welcome whenever I was there.
Katie and Ilona (the Cranes from the past two days) were two of the roommates. Angie was the third.
While I will say, in all seriousness, that we were all dedicated, busy, and smart, Angie was the one who hit the books hard. She always seemed to have some big project or paper or discussion to prepare for. She was a Spanish major, and spent her time abroad in a Spanish-speaking country (was it Spain? Or Mexico?). She taught me how to dance like Shakira, before liking Shakira was cool. (this was before “Hips Don’t Lie,” friends)
My last production at Kenyon was a play, written and performed in Span-glish (that classy made up language), called El Grande de Coca-Cola; seeing as it was a spoof on Sabado Gigante, telenovelas, and variety shows, we asked Angie to be our resident expert on all cultural things Spanish. That seems a little bizarre now.
Angie is now married to a Kenyon classmate who was a year ahead of us. He was a funny guy, irreverent; he now seems to be a great dad to their children.
They seem to a good team.
Music I listened to while sewing: Quite the mash-up of Miley Cyrus… and Sleep No more. Confused much?
Thoughts/Feelings behind the block: I have to run out the door in a few minutes, but I’m thinking a lot about what it means to be an artist. I wish I had time to write my thoughts and feelings about this down, but I don’t this morning… So, think about these questions…
What does it mean to be a genuine artist?
What does it mean to create art?
How do you know you’re creative?
What is creative? What is creativity?
When can you call yourself an artist?
Can you ever call YOURSELF an artist? Or is it a label that has to come from someone else?
Is anything anyone creates ever completely original?
Is it possible to make something original anymore?
Is that how you tell genius- managing to make something completely new? Or taking what came before and showing it to the world in a completely new way?