Artist Statement

People always talk about something funny they saw, heard, or read. I've always wanted to be the reason for that "something funny."

When I was younger, I used to draw little funny pictures to make my friends and classmates laugh. I would keep a drawing and show it to as many people as I could, because I liked the feedback. Since then, digital media has evolved and has become a large part of life. Also, since then, I've learned to write with more intelligence. I am now able to do more than just simply scribble a funny picture or barely-legible words on a sheet of loose-leaf paper. Not only that; I am also able to show my funny creations to the world -- anytime, anywhere.

I remember when Xanga.com was a popular blog host. I would post anything I thought was funny that crossed my mind while I was daydreaming. I daydream a lot. It's really fun. I forget almost all the stuff I daydream about as soon as I realize I'm daydreaming, though. But for the stuff I do remember, I'd post it on my Xanga blog through my writing, images and animations I create and/or edit, photographs and videos. The feedback was great. Textual, abbreviated laughters are great.

I love to laugh, and I love to make other people laugh. It's something anyone and everyone can enjoy. It's pretty much my motivation as a media artist. I believe that if something looks beautiful, interesting or abstract, a memory of it would only give someone a little smile. A memory of something funny, however, would make someone laugh and then turn red and embarrassingly tell the stranger next to them that they just remembered something funny, but the stranger wouldn't care because he/she already thinks that person is weird.

I hope I can make people laugh through my work. I believe that no matter how serious a topic might seem, I can add humor to it.

What I Hear

For this week's blog, I walked for a WHOOOLE hour, in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, from 21st ave. and 62nd st. to 86th st., and then back to 62nd st., and tried to remember everything I heard.

I heard a lot of my own footsteps, cars passing by – some with music – and birds chirping in the background. The footsteps were consistent, since they were mine and are always under me. On the other hand, the cars and birds were inconsistent because the sound perspective of the cars started on one side and ended on the other, and there weren't birds on every block. Not too many trees grow in Brooklyn...

I remember hearing different footsteps of a family getting into their minivan, then one of the doors sliding, and then two doors slamming. They were talking about something too, but not loud enough for me to hear.

I walked under a tree with berries on the ground. I heard squishes under me because I was making juice out of them. It sounded like my shoes would probably be dirty by that time, but I won't go into that because I couldn't hear what color it was. No one was around to hear my profanity, but I sure was. It was definitely a soundmark of annoyance.

I heard the audio of someone's TV through their window. I couldn't tell what TV show it was because it was too far away. My hearing is kind of bad because I used to listen to music too loudly. There's usually nothing good on in the afternoon anyway. 

There was also a dog that suddenly ran up to the gate in someone's driveway. It was pretty close to me so it attracted my attention. It surprised me, too, but it didn't bark. I guess I kind of felt like I had automatic gain control, because I prepared myself for a loud noise but the dog didn't deliver. If weird tingles in my head made a sound, I think I would have heard a loud tingly sound.

One of the things I remember the most was something that was loud and smelled really bad, very close by. I know I'm not supposed to talk about smells, but saying something is loud and smells bad probably evokes a memory, which is a funny trick.
It was a gas truck. 

Yepp, nothing immature there.
The engine was very loud. It was like an extended, rough honk. I don't really know how to describe it. I guess if Transformers were real and they could growl, that's how it would sound like.

Most of the walk was pretty much my own footsteps, wind blowing, birds chirping, cars passing by, and one airplane passing by. There weren't many people around because it wasn't a commercial avenue.

As I approached my doorstep after my arduous trek, I could hear my sweat splashing off the pavement. This was an easy walk. It was a piece of cake. I could do this in my sleep, and I would have done it if I didn't have to pay attention to what I heard.

Oh, note to Sarah: Remember to read my Medium of Exchange blog entry below, please :)

The IMA Spring Show: Medium of Exchange

I attended the opening reception of the IMA Spring Show: Medium of Exchange last friday with a friend who also takes MEDP/FILMP 150.

I didn't go just for the free food! I didn't even know there would be free food, and I didn't take a bite nor a sip of anything!

Anyway, I remember when I walked in I went to see a documentary, World's Fair, by Kalim Armstrong. It's about George Anton, who has a small houseboat. It's about how the government used to allow him to live in his houseboat, but all of a sudden wanted him to live. I like how as he spoke about this problem, there were shots of Anton making a model of a boat. The documentary ended with his model completed, polished, and mounted on a stand. I think it was a good choice to set the documentary up like this because the audience gets to see how happy this guy is living his life on a boat making models of boats. I sympathize for him and root for him over the government.

After that, I walked over to an information graphic of a map of obesity rates in the United States. I also realized there was free food next to the mini-theatre where I saw World's Fair, and I also realized why my friend disappeared. It was funny because she was stuffing her mouth while we were looking at the map. I like the choice of colors used in the animation of years 1985-2005. It's easy to tell the transition from the color white to purple, so it was easy to tell how much the obesity rates had risen every year.

Near the center of the room was an exhibit, called Solander, by Sarah Friedland (You're probably the only one who will be reading this, but I'll be formal anyway and use third-person instead of saying 'you' :) ). It was two small amiel arch mirrors, only about 1-1.5 feet high, hinged together. In front of it was a small projector, which projected parts of videos of Friendland's family history into one mirror pane at a time, and sometimes multiple panes at the same time. I like how the mirror ended up looking like a window since the room is black and the video fits into each pane, so it was as if I was watching Friedland's family history through a window. A lot of people watched it, though, and put the headphones on, so the projector kept getting moved a little and the videos ended up unaligned.

I also liked the Hunter/Gatherers exhibit, where there were two little TV's in big paper bags and a shopping cart in between them. The TV's showed videos of people buying things they don't need, which was the purpose of the exhibition.

Right before I left, they (I don't know who they were) just got the giant interactive mouse working. It was cool, because when they pushed it up to the obesity map, the MacBook on the interactive mouse would know that it's in front of the map, and would display its name. I think it was too big for a room full of so many people, though.

I had to leave because it was already 8:30 p.m. and I was late to a free dinner at Hunter's dorms (Now I went to that event for the free food). It was my first time going to the dorms, too.