Morbid Curiosity...

Jodie Carey was born in 1981 in London, England. Where she still currently resides, and works. An alumni from Goldsmiths College, as well as a graduate student London’s Royal College of Art, Carey has been featured in exhibitions across Europe and in the United States. She also has been the recipient of the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea Studio Bursary Award in the years 2007 through 2010. 

Her body of work shares a haunting aesthetic, reminiscent of gothic imagery that can be found decorating the historic cathedrals of France and the United Kingdom. Perhaps such structures provide inspiration for Jodie Carey. However, I am most drawn to one piece in particular. I have developed an obsession with her piece “In The Eyes of Others”. This is installation is composed of three massive chandeliers, all comprised of molded plaster recreations of human bones. The chandeliers hang from the ceiling in a dark room filled with newspapers, and cardboard boxes. At first glance they look like just massive, white, chandeliers. Illuminate them and you could find them in a high class home. However upon close glance you begin to realize what they are made out of. Some may be repulsed by using such a medium, but I just kinda squealed a little and said, “thats so cool!”. 

Identity Free Write...

        Whenever I am asked to define my identity I am often thrown into a heightened state of panic. I begin to stare at the ceiling as if florescent lighting will contain my answer. I feel as though I am in math class, and being asked to solve some ridiculous algorithm. Dramatic I know. But what does identity even mean? How could I possible conjure up the words to describe my current state of being? Of existence? Am I expected to describe a compilation of decisions, prejudices, and experiences? Is that my identity?  

        However this is just one small piece of this supposed compilation. My attempt at defining the word “ladylike”. Whenever I hear this word my mind is instantaneously thrown into the mindset of a stereotypical 1950s housewife. As if this word was derived of this seemingly captive lifestyle. The white picket fences acting as prison bars, and apron strings as handcuffs. A life of subservient silence, and family service. And all I think of is, ewww. Even in a contemporary society and mindset, for me, this word still holds the same overwhelming connotation. 

       I hesitantly contemplate how others must react when I use such harsh language to describe a seemingly harmless adjective. Do they think of me as one of those “angry feminist types”? Has she been listening to too much Alanis Morissette? Or perhaps I have not been so forthcoming with my strong views on my definition of this word. To best ensure that people do not come to the wrong conclusion. To put myself in between both extremes. The admirer of traditional feminine values and the angry feminist-- the latter being the less desired perception. 

       Do I ultimately project myself with a neutral opinion? Or do I purposefully surround myself with people who understand? As to avoid harsh judgement, and misinterpretations of my character. Why do I think this way? What lead me to think this way? I am still unsure. After all those are complicated questions to answer. 

Tattoo B...

I was immediately drawn to the aesthetic quality of tattoo B. I like the vibrant reds, and the organic linear designs on each side of the heart. When my gaze is focused to the middle of the tattoo I begin to notice the intricacies inside the heart shape. The look like gears, the type that would be inside of a clock or other mechanisms. It also looks as though it has been worked on or repaired. Maybe the heart was broken at one point in time. Then I notice the text. Perhaps they are initials of a loved one, or passed loved one. Ultimately a beautiful and intriguing design.
I would assume that this person is younger, perhaps in their 20s. Considering tattoos do appeal to younger demographic. I would also assume that this young woman in rather impulsive, considering many do get tattoos based on impulse. However due to the sentimental nature of the design perhaps this tattoo had a very long thought process or emotional event. Sparking such a permanent form of a memorial. Or perhaps this is not a memorial at all. But an homage to a person, place, or thing in this young woman’s life. My guess would be a person. Just because of the initials below the heart. I am indeed intrigued to know exactly what this tattoo means to its owner. But I am more drawn to the aesthetic of it.

Lets be honest...

My life has been rooted in anything but conventions. Strange traditions, loud vulgar conversations, and a lack (or rather a reinterpretation) of family values. Needless to say my upbringing is different at the very least. However I am hesitant to say that the abnormality of my home dynamic is the sole origin of my now (and still ever evolving) identity. 

Ideally I would like the idea that I am the sole creator of my identity. That I consciencely crafted who I am through each decision made throughout a lifetime, as well as how I decide to present myself on a daily bases. Ultimately if there is one quality who’s importance has never wavered. Honesty. Being honest with myself and with others. I accredit this to the free flowing nature of conversation with my mother, sister, and grandmother throughout my childhood and adolescence. I have never lied out of necessity, or feeling as though I was going to be in trouble. I had nothing to hide, and felt as though being a different person around family as opposed to who I was with others was simply too much effort. 

My research is going to be a search for an explanation of my rejection to another convention. The idea of being “ladylike”. Why does this idea seem so unattractive to me? But also I want to explore the interpretation of ladylike to other young women, and how it affects them. As well as the evolution of women throughout history, and how it lead to the "modern woman".