Friday, June 20, 2014

RISD REFERENCE PHOTOS - THE HORROR!

When I was in art school I took a lot of reference photos to create my drawings and paintings. When I was going through a pile of old photos during my move I found the below gems. Some are Polaroids. Ah... to be young again and holding a cumbersome camera that shoots out square, plastic photos that look like crap....

The first grouping is wonderfully food related. The one on the left was obviously used to do a charcoal drawing because it's covered in charcoal. The two remaining are more sinister. I believe I was creating a drawing or painting pertaining to monsters eating humans or children or something... as you can gleam by the monstrous faces of my family members. I especially the the facial expression of my mom!


I vaguely recall creating the art piece from this reference photo. I guess I thought it would be a great idea to have a decapitated head sitting in a pantry. I'm sure you're wondering how I ended up doing children's books. So am I! Note the Clamato in front. My father used to drink that all the time. I find that to be the most disgusting drink on earth.
The above photo is me looking as sultry as possible. I just found the finished painting based on this photo in my parents' attic! I'll post it soon. 

On the left is my sister stabbing my other sister. Charming. On the right is my little sister looking tough. I have no idea what either of these were used for. 

Above is my little sis dressed as a vampire?

If I find any of the finished pieces that accompany these photos I'll post them! 

Thursday, June 5, 2014

MY MOVE FROM NY TO RI - AH YES... LIVING WITH THE PARENTS

I traveled a lot this spring but before the traveling began I had to move out of my beloved apartment because my landlady sold the building to her daughters and her daughters wanted to "renovate," meaning kick us out to raise the rent astronomically. Before leaving my landlady and I weren't speaking. This is due to what I will call "the duct tape war."

The landlady's ritual was to tape up the mail slot every winter. Observe:


The normal routine was for me to rip off the duct tape whenever I saw it affixed and then hope that I got my mail. This year was different because I was anxiously awaiting my tax forms so that I could quickly do my taxes and then apply for a mortgage. The duct tape removal wasn't going so well and at some point the landlady switched to clear tape, which was more difficult to take off. I'd remove the tape and then the tape reappeared an hour or so later. I'd become exasperated. My roommate was also quite frustrated with this tape fiasco -- so much so that one day she left a note on the door. It read, "Please stop taping the mail slot. I'm waiting for important tax documents..." Then, she signed her name.

She also was so angered that she ripped the duct tape off too violently and part of the mail slot came off with it. This was minor damage, mind you (just a few screws needed to be tightened) but the situation was not as the landlady and daughter saw it. I got a phone message three or four days later that said, "Hi Meghan how ya' doin'" all in a Brooklyn accent. That first line were the only friendly words muttered. "You have a ROOMMATE. By the name of ERIN," she began. I could hear the landlady's voice coaching in the background... She raised her voice until the end of the message was almost a shout. "She DESTROYED THE MAIL SLOT. If we have to get a man in here to fix it she's going to be charged... NO... YOU'RE going to be charged!" I got so annoyed by the whole situation that I contacted a lawyer and then called the Post Master General.
A lady from the Post Master General's office said, "Well, she can't do that. She can't tape the mail slot. That's illegal!"
Well, what do I do about it?" I asked.
"Call the police!"
"Uh... the police?"
"Yes. The police. It's a crime. They'll have to come and investigate."
"I can't call the police on my landlady..."

So instead of calling the police on my 80 year old landlady I wrote the landlady and daughter a letter. I requested that the tape be removed and that the radiator also be repaired (it was 58 degrees in my side of the apartment during the day - also illegal). Observe:



After my letter was received the landlady stopped speaking to me. When I left the building one day the landlady immediately snapped her head in the opposite direction, as if I didn't exist. After that I was so uncomfortable I would walk laps around the block drive in circles until the landlady would stop lingering in front of the door. She was a lingerer so it was a problem.

So out I went. I have been wishing to purchase an apartment for some time so I though it was the perfect time to do so. Little did I know that the attempted coop purchase would drag on and on and would be a complete nightmare. When I say nightmare I mean it. That, however, is a blogpost for another rainy day.

So I had to leave my apartment, which was a huge drama because by the time the movers arrived at 10 am I was still packing! I didn't finish and they moved what I was able to pack.




I don't know why I look happy here because there was nothing happy about the situation. I think I was delirious - My friends Natalie and Christina helped me pack (thank you!) the day before but as they said, "I don't think you're going to finish," and they were right! It was such a disaster.




It turns out that not finishing my packing mattered because the storage space I got was too small. As   the movers finally saw the light of day (after 3 hours of waiting) they wheeled out one of my desk chairs. "It won't fit," one of them said.

So my sister (thank goodness for her!) and I drove back to my apartment with the desk chair inmy car and continued packing and throwing out stuff. By the end (3 am.) I was so tired I wasn't thinking straight.  I left a huge container of money on the street. I didn't feel like fitting it in the car. I don't know if it would fit anyway. It was gone within 30 seconds! Go figure. My sister and I discussed how we were going to give it to a homeless person but I was too tired to find one.

One the drive to my parents' house I kept falling asleep. It became such a problem that I pulled over at a rest-stop and got a coffee. I drank the coffee but to no avail. I had swift dreams about people standing on the highway and other horrors. My head kept slumping violently and the car repeatedly hit the rumble strip. I knew this was no way to drive to RI.  I hit another rest-stop. The car was so packed with the belongings I managed to keep that I couldn't see out of the back window. The passenger seat was also full. I pushed over what I could and found my pillow and made a painful place for my head to rest. Metal things kept pressing into my neck and side but apparently that didn't matter. I slept for a good hour. When I awoke the sun barely peaked over the hideous McDonalds structure, glowing the thing blue. In fact everything was blue with the glow of a new day. I started the car and prayed that I could make it the rest of the way without falling asleep again.

I arrived at my parents' house at 7 in the morning. Now it's not my parents' house... it's my house too, for the time being I guess.

Stay tuned for my travels PART 1

Monday, March 17, 2014

MY PARENTS IN ACTION

I need to start posting again! So here's my start. I was away for a week with my family on Turks & Caicos. It was a lovely, non humid temperature that hung around 80-85 or so. Of course I came back to 25 degrees. Ouch. I had a bad chest cold the whole time and didn't stop coughing. Needless to say I missed the great time my family had out one night. Observe my parents in action:

video

Please note how NO ONE else is dancing but them. If you have the patience to get to the end you'll see that there are a lot of observers... no of whom are dancing. Also note that my dad does "the saw." My friend asked, "Were your parents drinking?" Um... no. This is just the way they are. Welcome to the family!

Monday, February 17, 2014

MY OLD JOB AT SCHOOL...





Back in the day, I used to be "head monitor" at the RISD Nature Lab. I loved this place... still do. My job was to not only monitor the other workers and students but to take care of all of the live animals at the Lab. I had to go to the pet store and buy fish food and medicine... live crickets, which i would feed to some of the lizards, and so on. The turtles were a crazy bunch to tackle, especially when it was tank cleaning time!

Thursday, April 18, 2013

FREAKISH CHILD?

I was looking through my box of old kid papers and found the below chart. I'd actually never laid eyes on it before (my parents gave me a pile of stuff and I threw it in a box). I'm freaked out by it but kind of feel guilty at the same time. 1) What kind of child was I? 2) What kind of adult am I now? 


Am I not accomplishing enough? I'm feeling guilty because I have SO much to do right now and instead I've been on some sort of marathon TV binge. You know how it is once you get into one of those cable TV shows... they suck you in. I may also get like that when I'm a bit overwhelmed by things. I check out.  I find comfort fake realities, where everyone's problems are larger than life. 

But I had a chart for exercise! And this was when I was probably about 10 or so. I know I was in elementary school because this was in preparation for the physical fitness test. I always had to do  exceedingly well at all of those things or I'd beat myself up about it. There were so many things that I wanted to do with my 10 year old self. I wanted to be published. I wanted to win races. I wanted to start a band and record songs (I still have mixed tapes of my attempts). I even made a dance music video to Milli Vanilli! Remember them? Eek.  I also have my invitation that I sent around the neighborhood for a haunted house that I constructed in the basement. I was constantly trying to make money and I'd wrangle others into my schemes. I tried lemonade sales... I made craft objects... I wanted to sell my art... What would I think of my grown up self? I'm not rolling in money. Would I shake my head in shame? I'm not in the Olympics, either, as I'd once dreamed. I'm also not posting fitness charts on my wall and now I'm watching marathon TV shows and not getting dressed until 5pm. I'm starting to think I need to take a little inspiration from the childhood me. Meghan: get your act together! Get dressed! Make a fitness chart! Turn off the TV! 

Enough said. 

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

POOR LITTLE GUY

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Wednesday, March 13, 2013

JUGGLING

My sister and I have always been pretty darn competitive. For a while during our young years (probably at the ages of 8 and 10) we battled for who could learn to juggle first. We have always been pretty determined... especially when it comes to beating each other! So neither of us were going to give up. I remember the two of us tossing balls up in the backyard until it would get dark out. I don't recall who got the hang of it first... or if it was sort of at the same time. I have a feeling we both got the hang of it at the same time. One trick you can do is try using two balls with one hand (it uses the same principal). 

So there I was at work this week working in the toy department of the bookstore when lo and behold I saw a new thing -- a juggling kit! So of course I promptly bought it. I'm very rusty. But when I'm good enough I'll post a video of my attempt. Or better yet... maybe it would be funnier to post a video when I'm not good enough.