The above two photos are poorly taken photos via mac photo booth. They show a ring I created out of washed up sea glass, found on the shores of Staten Island where my aunt Kim resides. She often walks the beach and collects litter, and in her hunt she sometimes finds beautiful pieces of sea glass. In its previous life the sea glass was most likely a beer bottle that drifted out to sea and was exhausted by the ocean, washed up, and turned into interesting soft colorful pieces of glass. I happened to find a piece that fit perfectly on my ring finger. I've had the piece for years, but just recently I decided to make something out of it. I cut up a piece of chain from an old necklace and hot glued it in an interesting pattern to the ring, I finished it off by molding a piece of light pink clay into a mini abstract rose, which I also hot glued to the glass.

I covered my studios floor with game boards, block fixtures, and varied toy people to create a performing art piece that goes far deeper then childhood memories. Because of a devastating event a decade ago, my childhood was robbed from me. I was forced to grow up much faster then my third grade classmates, and my mother and I switched roles. I took care of the adult, emotionally that is. Not only do I feel my childhood was robbed, I feel children in general are forced to grow up much faster then they truly want to. Societies pressures and the governments regulations, set many a year ago, force humans to take life in steps, and childhood is only half a step. We long to play manhunt on hot summer nights with only fireflies guiding our paths, we long to play with dolls, we long to use our barely developed brains in a match of battle ship, but we are only allotted a short amount of time to do so in peace. We are taught to grow up in a split second because that's what is seen as acceptable in society. But children are fragile and should be allowed to grow at the pace they want, and more importantly play games and dress up dolls for as long as they please. We wonder why so many adults are mad, depressed, delirious, and down right crazy, but it's because so many of us are forced to live at a pace SOMEONE ELSE set. In my piece I show different game boards as the landscape and basis, and a built block pentagon in the middle of it all, after all, behind innocence and games is societies pressures and the governments control. Lego people and small wooden animals are set in compromising sexual positions, showing we are subconsciously forced to do things before we're ready. I also chose to show the wooden animals using technology, little plastic phones from the game Scene It, to show the irony in forcing people to take life by steps, much like it's ironic and wrong for an animal to be chatting on a cell phone. I am naked in my piece with a dress placed on top of me, a dress I wore when I was six years old to my Aunt Kim's christmas party. I lay on the board games holding a picture of me when I was six, wearing the exact same dress sitting in front of the christmas tree with a picturesque fire blazing. My wrist is covered in red paint, referencing death, and symbolizing the death of childhood. I hold a knife.

She laid her head on the cold gym mat. A towel? That’s all we get for protection, for warmth? Exhaustion was colored in the black circles under her eyes. That game we played last night was ridiculous, but she seems to think it was worth the exhaustion. It’s never a good idea to put your hand between the snapping gates of Jake’s snout, but her father laughed from the irritation the dog felt, which only pushed her. She gets naptime, but my kind never catches a break. Always voluminous and forever tangled, if only she’d buy more of that leave in conditioner! Mrs. D smeared cheap costume crayon on her lips and teeth. She cleared her throat and announced the children would have twenty minutes of naptime today. Holly had sarcasm plastered from cheek to cheek, “Wow Mrs. D, you’re a saint” sort of thing. Mrs. D noticed, “If you don’t wipe that smirk off your face it’ll be a ten minute snooze,” like anyone cared. God she’s tacky, and her hair looks like it’s made of bricks and plaster! How does she manage to walk indoors? Does her hair block her from entering classrooms? The smell of cheap 80’s hairspray suffocated the children as they tried to sleep, and the sound of chunky jewels smacking against the cherry oak went off like a bomb. How can these five year olds bear it? “Nap times over! Snap out of it!” I guess they don’t have time to even try bearing it, Mrs. D wouldn’t allow that. Holly arose obnoxiously, and quite theatrically winning the giggles of a few classmates. Mrs. D wasn’t giggling, her eyes, disguised by layers of blue eye shadow, gleamed with evil intention. “Okay smart mouth, come up to the board and do what I say,” Holly dragged her feet and put on a pout, this could only be bad. Bad is the only thing Mrs. D knows, she lives and breathes bad. “Write six plus seven on the board…with the answer,” Holly can do math, but after excess mental abuse through Mrs. D it’s become a fear. With a shaky hand, the slender chalk embraced the board as Holly’s classmates pierced holes in her back. All they could do was tease, and through their teasing they judged. A five year olds brain is a sponge seeping with information mimicked from television and movies. Parents these days are too selfish to take their kid to the park, so instead they squat them mindlessly in front of a TV. Whatever happened to feeding the ducks? It works for both of us. Children need to realize the sunlight is good for their hairs physical appearance, except if you’re blonde. Holly began to cry, fat tears rolled down her cheeks even as she bit her lip in protest. She looked to Mrs. D, even as a five year old she knew to seek help from adults, but Mrs. D grinned as she smacked a wad of gum between her cheap lips and scarlet stained teeth. Mrs. D barely gave Holly a chance to suck back tears and think before she blurted, “What are you in LaLa Land?” With those simple words, disguised in an ugly Brooklyn accent, Holly fled from the room as laughter chased from behind. She ran passed every jail cell of a classroom, and right out the front door into the sunny Manhattan day. She passed the little corner deli, where the owner always charged a dollar less to all her purchases. She stopped for just a moment to gaze at the mouth drooling pickles floating in the jar, Holly picked up her craving for pickles from her dad. They both loved to drink pickle juice out of the jar with straws; Holly’s mom was always repulsed by it. The disapproval her mother expressed from the pickles reminded her of her judgmental classmates so she continued down the solemn street. It was a sunny Manhattan day in October, and all though such a thing is rare, Holly couldn’t enjoy it. The sun reflecting in the street turned into black clouds enveloping every smile and every vibrant tree plot lining the block. At least for Holly, but the sunshine felt warm and comforting to me. Holly walked in a trance all the way home, her mom was surprised to see her five year old coming home an hour early and alone. After surprise sunk in, panic took over as Holly’s mother grabbed her and shook her like a rag doll. Holly told the entire story, and mentioned this was one of many incidents involving Mrs. D and her self-esteem. Holly’s mom called her small Lutheran school and reported Mrs. D. The next day at school Holly volunteered to go to the board, where she solved math problems with confidence and ease, and a little flash of the tongue to spite Mrs. D.

‘For the use of such ghosts as choose to inhabit it?’ I observed. ‘No, Mr. Lockwood,’ said Nelly, shaking her head. ‘I believe the dead are at peace: but it is not right to speak of them with levity.’ At that moment the garden gate swung to; the ramblers were returning. ‘They are afraid of nothing,’ I grumbled, watching their approach through the window. ‘Together, they would brave Satan, and all his legions.’ As they stepped on to the door-stones, and halted to take a last look at the moon-or, more correctly, at each other by her light-I felt irresistibly impelled to escape them again; and, pressing a remembrance into the hand of Mrs. Dean, and disregarding her expostulations at my rudeness, I vanished through the kitchen as they opened the house-door; and so should have confirmed Joseph in his opinion of his fellow-servant’s gay indiscretions, had he not fortunately recognized me for a respectable character by the sweet ring of a sovereign at his feet. My walk home was lengthened by a diversion in the direction of the kirks. When beneath its walls, I perceived decay had made progress, even in seven months: many a window showed black gaps deprived of glass; and slates jutted off, here and there, beyond the right line of the roof, to be gradually worked off in coming autumn storms. I sought, and soon discovered, the three headstones on the slope next the moor: the middle one grey, and a half buried in heath; Edgar Linton’s only harmonized by the turf and moss creeping up its foot; Heathcliff’s still bare. I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.”

The afterlife doesn’t always have religious affiliations. Ones own personal spiritual connection doesn’t change depending on whether they are Christian or Buddhist. The afterlife and what happens to an individual when they die is completely unclear, but some might say that a spiritual connection is more closely related to actions rather then a belief system. The last passage in the novel Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte is a microcosm in respect to the entire novel. But what’s displayed in that one passage emphasizes a major theme throughout the storyline, and that theme is the overpowering effect the dead have on the living. The power the dead have on the living is not only a spiritual haunting, but they also have a physical effect on living characters. The main focus of the passage emphasizes how the dead can exert a powerful effect on a character that is still alive; the dead are a catalyst for change, and haunt characters thoughts and feelings.
Although it’s unclear what the after life is, it’s clear that the effect the dead have in memory, and in an unearthly presence is empowering and can change the personalities of the living. Nelly Dean was deeply involved in the lives of the characters that eventually die. Nelly was so involved in the lives of other people that she became distant from herself, but she maintains a calm and collected personality. But when all of the main characters are dead, and young Catherine and Hareton move on in their lives, Nelly is finally left to take care of herself rather then caring for others. But Nelly spent so much time caring for others that she subconsciously discovers she’s distant from herself, and this is apparent in her words. Lockwood comes to the moors for an update and in conversation Nelly says, “’No, Mr. Lockwood,’ said Nelly, shaking her head. ‘I believe the dead are at peace: but it is not right to speak of them with levity.’” In context Nelly is snippy with Lockwood, where before she was open and enthusiastic when telling her tales. Nelly dreads the idea of the dead continuing to haunt the moors and it’s apparent when she tells Lockwood to be respectful, hoping the chances of keeping them away will advance. Heathcliff often confessed to Nelly that Catherine haunts him, but she never believed in such foolishness. But as soon as Nelly is left to deal with herself her own personal ghosts come out to haunt her, and the dead trigger these burdens. These ghosts represent the traumatizing memories the dead characters imbedded in her mind when they were alive, and the reminder that she doesn’t know who she truly is because she never had time for herself. When the characters were alive Nelly was verbal and open, and never believed the after life could effect her. But when the characters are dead Nelly is left alone and therefore her personality transforms, as shown in the last passage.
Lockwood thrives through the simple words that flow out of Nelly’s mouth. He is an outsider in the novel, and never knew two of the three dead characters. The third dead character, Heathcliff, he only met three times. Yet he is still consumed and obsessed with Nelly’s recollection of their lives. Lockwood eventually leaves the moors because he fears the isolation, and after only meeting Heathcliff three times, he fears he may become like the conniving character if he stays. During his time away, Heathcliff dies, and in some ways Lockwood is so consumed by the story that me might have sensed Heathcliff’s death, causing his return. At first glance this return can be seen as an act of curiosity. But deeper down he has become so obsessed with the story that he has let the dead control his mind and actions. When talking to Nelly Dean Lockwood blurts, “For the use of such ghosts as choose to inhabit it?” His thoughts are so consumed by the dead that he almost hopes they will haunt the moors, that way he may get a chance to experience them from a perspective besides a story. Lockwood is well bred and wealthy, yet he exerts this rude and disrespectful question in front of Nelly without hesitation. His obsession starts to lead him from his routinely ways, and his rude statement even reflects the likes of Heathcliff, someone he tried to escape once before. The dead have such a large control over his thoughts and feelings that his own personality starts to alter in reflection of the dead Heathcliff. His emotional attachment to the story is so strong that it takes over his life, and leads him to the cemetery where Catherine, Edgar, and Heathcliff lie. Lockwood observes, “…and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.” The control the dead have on Lockwood’s emotions and thoughts come to peace in this scene, much like nature allows the dead to come to peace in the afterlife. When Lockwood physically sees that the dead have rest all conflict and come to peace with nature, it allows his own mind to accept reality and make peace with nature. He is finally able to part with his own ghosts.
What happens to people when they die was unclear in the time Wuthering Heights, and remains unclear in present day. Memories as well as a super natural presence affect the lives of the living characters in the novel; the dead characters have the ability to alter personalities and control mind and emotion. Although the dead has the ability to control and alter the lives of the living, the living has the ability to stop the dead. Both the abilities of the living and the abilities of the dead are displayed throughout the novel, and both are displayed in the last passage. It’s fact that Catherine, Edgar, and Heathcliff have the effect to alter the personalities and emotions of the living characters, but it’s also fact that the living characters are able to overcome their power by finding peace with nature. Ironically, the peace the living characters find in nature is a gift from the dead. The dead characters are able to find peace with nature in the afterlife, and that realization allows the living to find peace with their ghosts.


>>essay I wrote focusing on the thematic motif of death, something that is natural in life and supernatural throughout eternity.

“For times they are a changin’” Bob Dylan saw the world through futuristic eyes. He saw the world with accepted civil rights, and world conflictions being solved with conversation and music rather then wars. He saw all people treated and accepted as total equals by their morals rather then their race or cultural backgrounds. He was a rebellious peacemaker, he caused a riot at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965 when he went on stage and played his normal folk music in electric heavy medal guitar. His radical ways of making points are all for the cause of getting societies attention to issues like civil rights and anti-war, the heavy slashes of the notes flowing from the guitar were ways of expressing war, and illustrating how war invades on peaceful communities, much like the heavy medal he played interrupted the peace of the folk festival. Bob Dylan was born Robert Albert Zimmerman and is foremost an American singer, songwriter, and musician. He composes all of his music down to the very technical threads, and because of this his music is very raw, but still has a point and is musically phenomenal. He was the Holden Caulfield of 1960s America and was the head spokesperson in opposing societies imperfections; he was a form of an activist most would say. Dylan expressed his activist point of view through what he knew best, his music. His songs like “Blowin’ In The Wind” and “Times They Are a-Changin’” express societies ignorance towards racial segregation and the violence in war and the ironic component in America of fighting a war for peace. His lyrics were philosophical, political, and enlightening to every listener no matter what the interpretation. He was multitalented in the fact that he could sing and compose folk, blues, rock and roll, gospel, and country music. He even contributed to jazz, swing, and Irish folk music. He toured through every musical endeavor he went about, and his most famous tour was in the 1980s known as “The Never Ending Tour”. His work has been so significant to society that he has won Grammy’s, Academy Awards, Golden Globes, and is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Amazingly, in 2008 years after the significant part of his career had passed he received a Pulitzer Prize for his musical work, and his work as an activist through music. Dylan is significant to U.S. history because all though he wasn’t a major event or a president, he used his musical talents and his good morals to stand up for what was right. He pushed until Civil Rights were accepted, and to this day still protests war and other imperfection in U.S. society. The most phenomenal part is he did this through music, a network that intrigues millions of people and creates fan addicts, and addicts who fought for the same causes he did.

Falling down a rabbit hole and hitting ones head seemed to clarify the scrambled thoughts in young Alice’s brain, and after her sudden awakening she was able to travel through Wonderland, and then back to reality with a sudden realization of her future and her goals. This is both true in Lewis Carroll’s book Alice’s Adventure’s in Wonderland and the movie adaption recently directed by visionary artist Tim Burton. But one doesn’t have to have tea with a demented hatter in Wonderland to find their path and meaning in life. In fact, works of literature that are both mandatory in life and amusement in a boring world have a star character that is often on the path to self-discovery. In the novel Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, the protagonist is a young woman named Jane. The novel is a bildungsroman taking the audience on the path from childhood to adulthood, but simultaneously taking the audience on a trip to find Jane’s true self. Much like the character Alice, who finds her true identity by traveling through Wonderland, Jane is also aided by magic. A major theme in the novel is Jane’s overall search and discovery of her true self, but magical symbols are placed throughout the novel to aid Jane, much like Wonderland aided Alice.
The majority of society doesn’t believe in magic. Most people are convinced that magic and fairy tales exist because they’re useful to teach children right from wrong, in a style that captures the child’s imagination. But even in fully developed novels magic can exist. It’s hard for the common person to believe in such ridiculous ideas because magic doesn’t come to the common person. Jane Eyre experiences guidance from different forms of magic throughout the novel because she is an extremely unique individual. Her unique personality was most likely developed from her childhood of neglect. Jane’s parents died during her infancy, and her nasty Aunt Reed at Gateshead estate raised her. Jane also grew up with her three cousins, the eldest being cruel and obviously a copycat of his mother. As a child Jane kept to herself, and was mostly occupied by books. But not the typical fairy tale books that often occupy a child’s attention, instead Jane was mainly interested in books illustrating gothic scenes and deathly looking birds. The gothic scenes in the books foreshadow Jane’s future life living at Thornfield, the creepy estate owned by her future husband Rochester, her viewing of the book as a child can be interpreted as a magical sign leading her in that general direction. When Jane is ten years old she is blamed for a fight between her and her cousin, he attacks her and she defends herself, but her cruel Aunt Reed solely blames her. As punishment she is sent to the “red room” that occupies no one, is too small to live in, and she spends an entire day and night there. As a result, Jane becomes claustrophobic and eventually she grows very ill, and in her time in the room she claims to see her dead Uncle Reed’s ghost and it causes her to melt down. The results of her melt down lead to the annoyance of her Aunt Reed, and from that annoyance her Aunt Reed sends Jane to a boarding school called Lowood. The ghost is a magical form, and he takes her from one step to the other on her path to self-discovery. Without the guidance from the ghost of her Uncle Reed, she might have never made it out of Gateshead.
Her time at Gateshead is her time as a small child, but as she reaches the eerie dorms of a school run solely by a patriarch, she begins her time as a young adult, and as a young adult she meets the first person to love her, and discovers her own kind of love. The first person to love her is one of the first healthy relationships she has ever had, when she meets her best friend, Helen Burns, they immediately connect and watch over each other. In Jane’s spare time she also develops a love for painting, and her paintings often illustrate birds. Birds connect with not only the books she read as a child, but they also show the true colors of Jane’s personality. Birds are obviously free because they fly, and although Jane can’t physically fly she internally longs to be free, and her path to self-discovery is also a path to find freedom through something or someone. Throughout the novel Jane doesn’t stay in one location for long, and this is because she wont stop until she finds her true self, much like a bird doesn’t stay put because of migration. Again, the birds in the books and the birds in her paintings symbolize her longings and her actions, the birds are signs and signs are a form of magic. Eventually, as Jane and Helen grow Helen becomes ill and eventually dies in Jane’s arms. Shortly after Helen’s death, Jane reaches an age where she is no longer a student, and the school asks her if she will become a teacher, but Jane turns the opportunity down. However, sleeping in her dorm later that night she is completely lost and doesn’t know where to go, and so she asks if a fairly will leave her an idea on her pillow. When she awakes the next morning, she has a clear idea of what she wants to do, and decides to make an advertisement in the paper for a governess position. Before she fell asleep she had no idea what she wanted to do after Lowood, but when she asks a fairy for help, she awakes with a clear and precise vision. Much like the ghost at Gateshead, the magical fairy at Lowood guides her to her next step on her path to self-discovery.
The moon is depicted as a feminine light in our universe. Her light illuminates the darkness, and she gives guidance and nurtures all, much like a mother. She influences the waves in the process of waning and waxing, and on Jane’s long dark journey from Lowood to Thornfield, she sheds light for Jane to see and gives off positive energy. The moon is recognized in all cultures as mythological, and is therefore depicted as a form of magic. Jane is hired as a governess to young Adele, her guardian being the owner of the estate Thornfield. Rochester is just as average to the naked eye as Jane is, but he is also equivalent to Jane internally, therefore he is complex. Eventually, and unexpectedly Jane and Rochester fall in love and engage to be wed. But the events leading to the wedding put Jane on edge, and she convinces herself ghostly secrets lie behind the polished walls of the mansion. One night she awakes to find a pale bloody woman standing over her bed wearing her wedding veil. Previous to this incident a fire was started in Rochester’s bedroom, and when Jane volunteers to investigate with him he overly reacts and refuses to let her come, giving her proper reason to question him and his house. Another incident leads to the mysterious stabbing of a guest staying at the house, and Jane is left to mend him. She is given strict instructions not to go through the door in the room she is left in. While she is in the room she notices a fixture of Jesus hanging on the wall, Jesus is a symbol of the irony in the situation. Jesus is a holy symbol, but whatever force lies behind that forbidden door is far from holy. When Jane sees the woman in her room, her first thought is that the woman is a vampire. A vampire is a made up creature, but nonetheless a magical one. The fixture of Jesus lies next to the room where the vampire like woman lives, and the contrast between the two is noticeable to Jane. Eventually, when she discovers Rochester’s secret she refers to this contrast and its unholy vibes, and it leads her to her next step, among other things. The contrast is bad for obvious reasons. Magical symbolism and its contrast help her in her decision to leave Thornfield, both the miracle of Jesus and the existence of a vampire are forms of magic. The existence of the vampire like woman and her secrets chase Jane away from Thornfield and her true love, but they also bring her back to Thornfield, at the end of the novel. When she returns to Thornfield for the second and last time, her journey to self-discovery is over and she understands her true self.
Jane Eyre spends her journey from childhood to adulthood searching for freedom and self-discovery. Eventually she reaches a point in maturity, where she discovers who she truly is, through falling in love. But before she got to that point, she traveled from place to place learning and running from different people and different concepts. But she wouldn’t have reached a success point if magical symbols didn’t properly aid her. Not only did magic give her directions and guidance, but also magic showed her different pieces of herself, gradually, throughout her journey.

P.S. 1 Contemporary Art Center is an addition to the MoMA Museum of Modern Art; which opened in 1963, and has been affiliated with P.S.1 since January 2000. MoMA young architects exhibit their work at the center in Queens, NY. The center also houses the National/International Projects series, quite an honor in the art world. Although the center is an addition to the MoMA; meaning the work is mostly modern and the walls ceilings and floors of the center are molded into the imagination of young architects, the museum itself is actually one of the oldest in the country. But it wasn't as known UNTIL the MoMA came into play. The center is literally play-dough to the young, modern, and brilliant minds of artists around the country and the world. The physical presence of the museum is the molded imagination of young architects from the MoMA, but the museum is also famous for housing the famous internet art radio station WPS1, since 2004. Not to mention some of the most recent exhibitions are raunchy and completely and totally revolved around the act of sex and the sexual being. Most artists, even modern artists, relate their work to sex in some form of another, but the exhibitions in PS1 don't relate to sex or hint sex, they are sex. Pablo PIcasso might have seemed out there in early 20th century Paris, but this work is the first of it;s kind, and quite expressive/impressive. Daring and totally imaginative, PS1 is a playground for the brilliant minds of visual artists.