Photo by Lone Woof

DAMN LIFE IS NUTS!!!!! So in the past month I graduated college (cue confetti), had my first art show and purged most of my possessions, then got on a plane to California and I haven’t slept in the same place more than two nights since. I’m scrawling down notes like crazy, taking pictures on film so they’re secret even to me, and enjoying this mad mad newness.

Right now I’m riding along with roadrat Eddy Price’s one man rockabilly band Th’Empires, working merch and playing keyboard for a couple songs. Dates for this coming week are:

SEPTEMBER 2nd, 8:30 PM– Two Boots Pizza — Bridgeport, CT
SEPTEMBER 4th, 9:00 PM — Humor and Grace — Asbury Park, NJ
SEPTEMBER 5th, 8:00 PM – The Shrine — New York, NY
SEPTEMBER 7th 11:00 PM — The Trash Bar — Brooklyn, NY (Pssst Brooklyn buddies, I will see you at this, yes?)
SEPTEMBER 10th 8:00 PM — Labyrinth Press Company – Jamestown, NY
(Check here for his upcoming dates in Bloomington, Indy, Lafayette, etc.)

If you can’t come to a show but want to make sure the train keeps a-rollin’, you should, well, buy some stuff. Or just send good vibes — I can always feel that shit.

Th’Empires new t-shirt w/ FREE DOWNLOAD

Features this “rockabilly rabbit” design on American Apparel heather gray t-shirts. They are soft. I’ve touched them. And they come with a free download of the first album, Go Crazy. What?! Crazy, all right…

$15.00 Size M or L Click here to purchase.

Th’Empires Strike Back! CD

Listen to the tracks here. (Cover photo by me, design by Eddy Price… and if you listen closely to “Down On My Luck” on the actual CD, you can hear my shy little organ contribution.)

$5.00 Click here to purchase.

Thanks to digital magic, when you purchase a CD or a T-shirt, the money instantly appears in Eddy’s jean pocket and then morphs into fuel for the beautiful Pontiac Parisienne that is carrying us around the country. So hop to!

I’m writing this from a really adorable ice cream parlor/bakery called The Sweet Spot in New Milford, Connecticut. Tonight we’ll be staying with the owner and her beau, hopefully vegging out with cartoons and pizza. It will be nice to do something calm after a night in Boston that involved shooting off fire extinguishers in a laptop-DJ’s living room, good-intentioned promotors regaling us with stories of his European bowel movements, and comparison shopping hotel rooms at 5 in the morning. Weeeeeee. See you soon…

So last spring I got a random compliment via Facebook, and upon investigatation the complimenter turned out to be Maria, the art coordinator for the monthly rotating artwork at Coffee Grounds, my old hang-out in Terre Haute. I sent her a gushing email about how I always wanted to do a show there, and explained that I’d be moving out if Indiana in September. So she very graciously offered me the month of August to show my work! Thank you, Maria! And thank you Facebook, for once in awhile doing something besides magnifying my neuroses.

Sara, who manages to save my life on a daily basis, gave up her Saturday night to help me print and cut the show, AND get my empty apartment in landlord-inspection-confidition all in the span of six hours. (More on that later!)

The show is a collection of not-new portraits of friends taken mostly around downtown Terre Haute, blown up and thrown on a brick wall in the very coffeehouse where some of them were taken. There’s no big unveiling of never before seen work; it’s more an exercise in nostalgia, and showing Terre Haute what “my Terre Haute” looked like in my late teens/freshman year of college. My slightly artsier explanation can be read at the show.

The reception is doubling as my college graduation/going away party (note the counter on the right sidebar– IS THAT FO REAL??!) and wouldn’t it be amazing if I got to see all the people I love in the tri-country area in one place before I leave Indiana for good? Like the beautiful Miranda July short story about the girl that gets home to a voicemail message saying that EVERYONE SHE HAS EVER KNOWN is throwing her a picnic. Only I will try not to get freaked out and leave in the middle to go home and take a bath.

My mom’s monthly poetry reading is directly after at 7:30, cause that’s just how my family does parties. (She already wrote a poem about the photos, which made me cry in a public computer lab.) So bring a poem to read too, if you want to make a night of it. As for me, I’ll probably just spend the night off in a corner eating cake and crying for my lost youth. If this sounds like the kind of spectacle you’re into, see you on the 19th.

death cab for cutie
and regina spektor too
i bought two CDs

2:

smoke joints back to back
cigarettes get quicker now
everyone is here.

–mar 20, 2007

(More gems coming soon — I just spent three hours going through old photos and writings as I gather images for my Terre Haute photography show. I’m considering making a slideshow of just my ill-advised haircuts.)

It felt amazing just to work with a real live Working Artist, especially someone who gets to travel as much as I’d like to. When I asked him what he does with his stuff when he’s on the road all the time, he just smiled and said, “I don’t have any stuff.” Ahhhh, now that’s the life.

Go listen to/then buy TH’EMPIRES – Go Crazy (feelgood rockabilly stuff — listened to it on repeat for an hour-long drive, makes you wanna dance like a cheeky 50s gal/stud!!!)
See when they’re touring – myspace.com/thempires (in Bloomington at Bear’s Place July 13th!)
Check out EddyPrice.com

Photo by Tim Walker

I’ve been spending most of my time trying to gather wisdom, all while coming to terms with the fact that I’ll never just walk up to a book at the library, flip it open to a random page, and find one sentence that answers all my questions and puts my heart at ease about everything. However if I sit down at my computer I will find a fuckload of Tumblrs full of images of hot tattooed girls/boys, love, the sea, and everything else good.

So I started a Tumblr of things I want to manifest, things I like, here: magicmagnet.tumblr.com. It’s not a visual diary — I’m trying not to fill it with images of manic redheads smoking cigarettes and making rash decisions. It’s more like my personal order from the catalog of the universe. You’re sure to find sex, glitter, dancers, luxury hotels, city skylines, and gratuitous imagery of Lady Gaga.

So what about this space? I did a shoot recently that I’m excited to share, as well as a couple self-portraits that I need to clear with my dad before posting because for some reason lately, I find it difficult to photograph myself fully clothed… I’m working on a short film & my first art show is coming up. I’m also taking my last college class, dancing again with ballet, modern and hip-hop classes (makes me SO HAPPY!!! I feel like myself again), selling most of my belongings and figuring out the right time to buy a one-way ticket to Somewhere Else. In any case hopefully I’ll see you sooner than another month from now. ♥

Hey, it’s my name in print!

In addition to being my mom, a fiber artist, an activist, Zann Carter is also a poet. She and her comrade Sarah Long self-published a poetry anthology called Subterrenean as a supplement to the open-mic poetry readings they run in Terre Haute. Zann wouldn’t stop nagging me to send something in for it, and I’m glad she’s such a persistent art mama, cause this thing is pretty neat. The anthology is a limited edition of 200, including wildly diverse writers, scribblers and even a signed and numbered silkscreen. My contribution consists of two pretty raw, unrevised poems that I wrote out in my journal sitting at a coffee shop. Both of them somehow mention pizza and New York City?

Anywho, I’m giving away 2 FREE COPIES each (editions 31/200 and 32/200) of one-of-a-kind SUBTERREANEAN. They normally cost $10, but I think such a limited assemblage of midwestern artistic genius is priceless, don’t you? For a chance to win, all you have to do is comment on this post with a fun fact about your mom and I will pick my two favorites. Make sure to include your e-mail so I can contact you. Blammo!

Léon the Professional (Luc Besson, 1994)

Kick-Ass, (Matthew Vaughn, 2010)

After learning how to “read” film, it’s hard to just go to the movies and enjoy. It takes at least half my popcorn and 20 ounces of pop before I can stop trying to ascribe a socio-political metaphor to each scene and situate the overall themes of the film into a socio-historial context in order to analyze where this film fits into our current cultural landscape while synthesizing what it is communicating about our blah blah blah blah blah I JUST WANT TO LAUGH AT PEOPLE FALLING DOWN. With that said, I can’t help it. Must. Analyze. Cultural. Significance. (For a straight-up style post Gala (not Darling) posted some beautiful stills here and there’s a Mathilda polyvore set here!)

I went to see Kick-Ass the other day, just a couple weeks after screening Léon for my French film class, and I am not the first person to notice the similarities between the two precocious gangster gals. While Natalie Portman’s Mathilda is the obvious victor in artsy-fartsy badassery — she smokes, teaches an Italian hitman how to read, gets kicked out of a hotel, and inspires a suicide bombing –, Chloe Moretz as novelty Hitgirl performs mindbending gunslinging acrobatics, shooting down dozens of boys in one move and spitting sailor-mouth quips that only add to the charm. We already saw Moretz as the no-bullshit kid sister in 500 Days of Summer, and as someone who was once a ten-year-old know-it-all with a dirty mouth myself, that’s not really enough to make for a deep character.

Don’t get me wrong, I was appropriately jazzed when Joan Jett’s “Reputation” kicked in as Hitgirl maneuvered bookshelves like hopscotch squares knocking out bad guys. Point is, I wonder what.. the point.. is. I guess Kick-Ass is just a gimmicky film based on a gimmicky comic book that was written simultaneously with the movie, and Hitgirl is the carbonated-watered-down version of interesting characters like Mathilda or slightly more interesting characters like The Bride in Kill Bill. In Léon, Mathilda loses her family and school structures and becomes the neo-feminist who not only takes care of herself, but also guides the Post-WWII male who doesn’t know how to be independent, financially stable, domestic, emotional, sensitive and intelligent all at the same time. Hitgirl (or “Mindy”) lost her mom and would do anything to please her daddy, including choosing butterfly knives over ponies and mass killing sprees over hot chocolate. Is this what happens when daughters lose their mother’s influence? Become tough, untrusting, prone to violence, and thus, badass and heroic? Teach me how to be a sniper, Léon. Teach me how to take a bullet, daddy.

It’s not surprising that Hitgirl is a way better superhero than Kick-Ass; girls mature faster than boys. But I have to wonder if I should find her impressive destruction skills inspiring or disheartening. Well, I know I should just find them entertaining and that’s all, but my brain is annoying, it makes me do more stuff. I think Mathilda’s story is better because in the end she can’t go through with it: when it comes time to actually hurt somebody, she drops her weapon and runs away crying. We can vote, own property, have jobs, have kids, and do anything men can do except for a little less money… Do we want the penchant for physical violence as well? What do men have over us any more if we’re the best at killing people too, and in a way better costume? Are they finally forfeiting the battle of the sexes? Nah, cause Kick-Ass saves Hitgirl in the end anyway, since he has one of those big guns that shoots something big and makes big fire happen.

P.S. If Hitgirl and Mathilda had a style battle Mathilda would obviously win, because it’s Natalie fucking Portman, and that ain’t no wig.

window gazing, impromptu photo shoots

more reflections, sweet fire at Union Pool (wearing my mighty boots from F21)

Since I was but a wee self-important dreamer, I’ve always said I wanted to move to New York City and be an artist, so my first visit this past New Year was nothing less than surreal. From the moment the crazy car service guy (“Here’s a pen, can you write down everyone’s destination and name for me?”) dropped me off at the corner of 10th & Avenue B till the last time I saw the skyline out the window I was pretty much in stage 5 dreamlife zone.

Unless I make a not-entirely-unlikely spontaneous change of life plans (best friends keep tempting me to Los Angeles, a woman at work said I should go teach English in Hong Kong cause I’d make bank, and I know there must be art colonies in France in need of a ginger…), as of August me and two co-workers will be moving there. Now that it’s so real, I can feel the doubt creeping in for the first time: You don’t have any savings, you haven’t really accomplished anything yet, you don’t even know exactly what you wanna do. But that’s not my voice talking. I’ve never really had any doubts that I can just go and make it happen. I can be the medium-whore that I am and work in fields of dance, writing, and visual art, and just go wherever the magic map takes me. I don’t think it’s hard to make a living doing what you love, as long as you fully commit to being creative, seizing every opportunity, and trusting the universe to send you exactly what you need. Anytime I really do that everything falls into place. Two days ago a stranger complimented my photos via Facebook, and because I responded I now have my first solo art show booked for August! Whenever the negative voices pipe in, I just remind myself that no one who has made it ever believed for a second that they wouldn’t. I can’t wait.

In a rare incident of foresight I bought tickets to something awesome. That something awesome was seeing Mister Henry Rollins’ spoken word at the Buskirk Chumley here in Bloomington. Not being entirely, how do you say, “punk”? myself, I know Henry Rollins more as the knowledge-hungry world traveling speaker than the Black Flag frontman, so I was right at home listening to him go on and on about how WE SHOULD ALL GIVE A FUCK and how much potential we all have to let go of hatred be our greatest. He spoke for over three hours without taking a single sip of water. I jotted down a few quotes afterwards but they don’t do him justice. Go YouTube him, or visit his website for more!

HENRY ROLLINS:

“Destroy your audience.” (On giving your all in a performance)

“I fear you more than I like you. And I like you a lot. My love for you is only eclipsed by my fear of you.” (on his audience)

“This century is only 10 years old. There’s still time…” 

“I’m like a shaken up can of Coke ready to explode.”

“I’m trying to channel all of my life force through a hole the size of a straw.”

and when I stayed after and (hands shaking and voice quivering cause he’s A DAMN CELEBRITY JUST STANDING THERE LIKE A REAL HUMAN BEING) asked if he would pose for a Polaroid and sign it: “I’ll do my best Polaroid face…. You know this is what Andy Warhol used to do.” !!! Awesome.

“Isn’t life a series of images that change as they repeat themselves?” –Andy Warhol

PHOTOS TAKEN BY SARA BALDWIN, edited by moi

-80s graphic shirt, Cactus Flower
-stretch miniskirt, H&M
-argyle kneesocks, Target
-high-heeled boots, Forever 21
-faker glasses, rings, clothespin in hair: Cactus Flower

Spent this past week researching Andy Warhol for a paper and began channeling him and Edie Sedgwick in a big way. Felt my brain shift from anxiety-ridden trivialities to full blown ARTMIND and life got a kind of surreal flow to it. I was so inspired I cleared out half of my apartment and deemed it the art factory (we still need an original title, open to suggestions). Since then it’s been the site of at least 3 tattoos and weathered countless brainstorms. I decided I want an art clan, creation over consumption, to juxtapose instead of judge. From now on I’m only spending time with collaborators and stars and magicmakers, and we don’t need amphetamines to make this a happening.

For a similar life-altering experience, no illegal substances necessary (only a library card and computer access): read The Philosophy of Andy Warhol, listen to the Velvet Underground & Nico, watch Superstar and Factory Girl (warning: will trigger chainsmoking, fur-coat donning, persistent lip gloss application and swooning over a mythical Bob Dylan), and take 100 pictures. Do all of this in the span of 12 hours for maximum effect.

“I wish I were a machine. I don’t want to be hurt. I don’t want human emotions. I’ve never been touched by a painting. I don’t want to think. The world would be easier to live in if we were all machines. It’s nothing in the end anyway. It doesn’t matter what anyone does.” –Andy Warhol

Photos by the multi-talented superstar Reuben Collymore

Cable knit socks: Target. Pinstripe jean skirt: Goodwill. White button-up: Salvation Army in Evanston, IL. Silk ribbon salvaged from Cactus Flower. 90s Booties: Goodwill. Lolita sunglasses: Charlotte Russe.

Alice-in-Wonderland-inspired menu screen?

50 plus comments on each post?

Crisp images of expertly styled vintage ensembles?

Modcloth’s Blogger of the Month?!!!

I get dizzy upon realizing that there is a Super Legit Fashion Blogger standing next to me in my humble town of Bloomington, Indiana, just weeks after I decided to give blogging a serious go. Thank youuuu, universe! We became fast friends, Aya is as humble as a button and thankfully was jazzed about taking me under her wing for my 3-credit blog experiment. We immediately began conspiring to bring you the photo shoot you see here.

Aya has a certain subtlety and simplicity that makes me feel like a bad influence. It’s like she just hopped off a train from the 1940s and I’m a homeless girl at the station peddling silver. One day at work I tried on a skirt and asked her what she thought; she said with earnest, “You look sexy, if I may.” This is just the beginning of the charm of Miss Strawberry Koi.

Aya is wearing: vintage dress, thrifted shoes, and my heart-shaped glasses from Charlotte Russe.
I’m wearing: thrifted dress, vintage slip, ribbon from an old prom dress & boots from Cactus Flower.

See the full set on my Flickr here.
Visit Aya’s blog:www.StrawberryKoi.com

What’s that in my mouth? Anyone that knows me has pointed out the fact that I am like your favorite Grandma, always carrying around candy in my purse. Usually it is a bag of Jolly Ranchers. After an intense gas station binge I may also have chocolates. The Jolly Ranchers come in handy for a number of things, namely: 1.) Soothing the ever-scratchy throat of a veteran smoker such as myself (sorry, Mom + Dad!), and 2.) Making new friends.

boots: Thriftstore Cowboy
skirt: H&M
tights: Cactus Flower
top: thrifted
flame necklace (aka my power totem): gift from Brittany & Ali

(Wallet-sized selfportraits I was giving away as business cards. I used to dye my hair more often than Kevin Smith tweets.)

As part of a life-long effort to get my shit together, you may have noticed I recently gave this blog a bit of a make-over. My very generous computer whiz older brother Shaun Hussey helped me with the HTML. Now I can post even bigger images (isn’t your browser happy?) and the new sidebar tells you everything you need to know about this space. More changes a-comin’.

I’m still playing with everything so if there are any kinks, well, there’s nothing I can do about it, but I’ll ask my brother and then whenever the next time is that he comes to visit for a Murder by Death show I will offer him questionable love advice in exchange for fixing it…!

In the meantime, go forth and worship my first sponsors/awesome ladies Strawberry Koi & Becky Drolen Vintage.