Feminism

This week, I posted a short comment on social media about a humorous XOJane article about a woman who has decided to "sit" on manspreaders in the New York subway. The resulting thread of comments on this post lead me to mull over what it means to be a feminist, what can be legitimately considered a feminist problem, and how powerful gender and societal constructs truly are.

Some argued that manspreading is simply a non-issue, that they are simply a part of the general indecency of humanity. Others argued that men must sit with their legs open due to physical discomforts with sitting closed legged. Yet another person argued that a woman should not sit on a man for fear of physical violence, and that one should pick one's battles and not risk their safety over such triviality.

Photos from: http://theodysseyonline.com/loyola-marymount/check-your-privilege/192246

All of these arguments are valid in some ways. Yet they all point to the fundamental issue of privilege and consciousness. What is privilege? Privilege is some sort of characteristic that gives one group of people more resources and power over another group. It can be skin color, race, religion, sexual preference, gender, wealth, athletic abilities, among others. What is consciousness? Consciousness is the awareness of oneself as a part of something greater, and the realization that we are all innately equal and deserving of kindness regardless of our physical form and privileges.

Every culture has its own groups of privileged and underprivileged people, with resources divided unequally among them. Even though if we all shared, the world's privileged and underprivileged would be much more balanced, and global sustainability be achieved, we somehow manage to prefer the division of resources based on privilege. Whoever has more resources already wins in the global campaign for power. Each privileged class ignores the needs of another underprivileged class.

This happens everyday all around us, in social constructs that we are barely beginning to challenge. A hundred years ago, women did not have the right to vote, because voting was a man's privilege. A person of color could not ride in the front part of the bus, because they had to give up their seats to white passengers. Colonial countries had to send all their natural raw materials to imperialist countries in order to enrich another nation. And so on.

Due to the bravery of some, these social constructs began to be challenged, because some people said it is wrong to allot more resources to those with privilege. Women demanded for the right to vote. Rosa Parks decided not to move to the back of the bus. Ghandi organized the people of India to drive out the British. These small actions lead to big changes in the way we view certain privileges, until they ceased to be a privilege and were distributed equally to others.

Currently, our problems of equality takes the form of college students who are struggling under massive student debt, people who cannot afford health care due to their professions and income level, racial profiling by the police, and manspreading. Why is manspreading on this list among seemingly larger and more important issues? Because it points to larger preconceived notions of gender and public space that needs to be challenged.

Is manspreading a gender issue? It is if the men who sit with their legs spread open are doing so unconsciously or consciously because of their cultural and gender upbringing. Some men in this culture prefer to sit with their legs crossed all the time, but are mocked for their seeming femininity. Other men sit that way because that's just how men are supposed to sit as prescribed by our culture. And other men sit that way because they are physically larger and need or want more space. In any case, these reasons all lead to the usage of more resources due to privilege. A man's privilege to more space than a woman, who may have been taught to take up less space with her body, even though she may be the same physical size as the man.

If manspreading is a gender issue, then addressing it brings more consciousness to the forefront, and challenges people's preconceived notions of gender and privilege. Dismissing this as a nonissue is yet another way to ignore larger problems related to gender, and to once again assert entitlement and privilege. If someone complains of a problem, instead of listening, we jump in and dismiss their problems because we ourselves have never experienced it, we are just adding to their misery. The same goes for other modern problems like student debt, health care, and racial profiling. It's easy for someone who doesn't experience these as problems to dismiss them, but it doesn't take away from the difficulties of someone who is dealing with these issues.

This is why I feel sad whenever men criticism feminism, either to say it is sexist or that certain issues are not considered feminist. Feminism is the advocating of women's social, economical and political rights. Someone who is a feminist is someone who advocates for these rights. It's no different than someone who is a LGBT activist, or a civil rights activist. A person can also be an advocate of rights for many subcategories. It's all an advancement of equality for everyone in an effort to erase privilege and entitlement. Therefore, if someone in an underprivileged category feels that something is an issue, it is worth addressing, even if it doesn't seem like an issue to another person. In this case, manspreading.

However, all issues are relative to everyone. A person who doesn't have to worry about his next meal may worry more about global warming and the potential threat to human food supplies in the next hundred years. A person who hasn't eaten in three days will care more about his next meal than global warming. Is the worries of the hungry person less important than the worries of the environmental person? Not really. But neither is vice versa. Each person's problem is more important to themselves than to others. The only solution is to come to a mutual understanding and acknowledgement of each person's problems, and the willingness to help each other out to the best of their own abilities. All it takes it that change in mental attitude for the world's problems to be solved. Are we willing to do so and to open our minds to the possibilities of seeing the world from another person's perspective? I certainly hope so...

On Paris

Last night, the world was rocked by news of violent attacks in Paris, the "city of light." Here in the United States, the news broke out as workers prepared to depart the office for the weekend, and the people of France were relaxing at cafes, restaurants and bars on a busy Friday night. For many, their lives will never be the same. They will have lost a loved one, someone they kissed goodbye that morning, or a friend they just called or traded comments with on social media. And for the people of France, their futures are now fraught with the fears of the unknown, of how they will as a society grapple with the question how to respond to terrorism.

Some early evidence point to the conflict in Syria between the Islamic State and the Western coalition as the catalyst for last night's attacks. IS has claimed responsibility, along with the downing of the Russian plane two weeks ago. The world is anxious, afraid and on high alert against future attacks. For me, the saddest part of these atrocities is its impact upon the human consciousness, of how those left behind are beset by crippling regret and doubt, uncertain of whether they can carry on with the same convictions they once had.

Here in the West, where we are untouched by the daily violence and danger faced by those in Syria and other conflict zones, it is hard for us to comprehend what life is like under those conditions. Which is why last night's attack in Paris was so shocking. For most of us, losing a loved one to violence is a rare occurrence. We take for granted that the ones we love will come home to us each night, that our belongings and livelihood are safe, and that things we know and care for will remain stable through time. This is not the realities of people who live in conflict zones. Each day brings new dangers. Each time you see you loved ones may be the last. And yet they carry on living as best as they can. Or they flee their lands through dangerous sea and land passages, with hundreds drowning or freezing to death in the process.

Last night's attacks were the results of political instability and religious conflicts set in motion over decades ago. They were the fruits of intolerance and oppression, now ripened into blood and tears for not only the people of the Middle East, but the entire globe. Those who were previously untouched by violence are now sucked into its vortexes, unable to escape its growing grasp across all demographics.

The question we need to ask ourselves is how we have each contributed to this event, whether it is through direct action or inaction. Did we participate by being silent witnesses to the Syrian conflict and not demanding that our elected officials step in to provide conflict resolution or aid? Or have we been agents of hatred and bigotry, demanding that we add more violence to the already escalating atrocities and growing anti-West sentiments? There are many questions that remain unanswered but must be asked to help us untangle the complex issue of terrorism.

For now, I would like to send courage and serenity to the people of Paris, to tell them the rest of the world is watching and hoping with our hearts that their city of light will not be diminished. That we hope they will use this event to shine their light into the dark recesses of prejudice and hatred and to create change with their continued hope and love during this difficult time.

Witch-hunts

Lately, I've been preoccupied with the story of women accused of sorcery in Papua New Guinea. An article in the Huffington Post last week detailed how women were being tortured and killed by their villages for suspected sorcery. The writer, who met with local women activists trying to combat this practice, also described the socio-economic backgrounds that lead to the culture of witch-hunting.

Photo by Vlad Sokhin from Huffington Post 

The image of this woman being publicly tortured by the mob lingered in my mind, along with another image of a woman being burnt alive. It's something that does not leave your memory - the jarring depiction of modernity juxtaposed against ancient belief systems and gender inequality. For me, this is something I feel I must address in my work somehow, because it is relevant not just in the far corner of Papua New Guinea, but also relevant to our everyday interactions as people with one another.

Violence against women is of historical nature. Throughout time, women's bodies have been traded, used, pillaged, and oppressed by various agencies. Women have only just started to be defined by something other than their bodies in this century, but the road to equality is hard and steep. Often, women are targeted because they have weaker status in society and make easier targets for those who want to confiscate their property. Other times, the witch hunt is simply an explosion of communal anxiety that manifests itself in scapegoating misfortunes on those who are either more prosperous, or who have weaker social political ties.

The phenomenon of the witch-hunt is an interesting one, in that it is present across many different cultures, and also manifests itself in times of social turmoil, when misfortunes are unexplained. It's interesting how the community vents its anger and fear through the purging of one of its own. The innocent victim bears the brunt of their fury, their bodies beaten and broken by the mob's intense anger. To the witch-hunters, they are simply cleansing their community of unwanted pestilence. The burning of witches a symbol of purification.

What I want to explore is the concept of the female body within this context of social pressures. It's interesting to me how the female body is both a symbol of desire and fear. On one hand, the female body is celebrated in western culture, with mass media's constant barrage of the ideal feminine beauty from every lifestyle magazine and ad. On the other hand, the female body is feared and controlled by mass culture in the form of slut shaming, sexual violence, and body image propaganda. In the case of the witch hunts in Papua New Guinea (surprisingly similar to the witch hunts in Salem), the female body epitomizes the evil that cannot be understood, and that which becomes the embodiment of communal fears, and outlet for growing frustrations.

I sometimes wish I could be liberated from my body, and be a formless entity defined only by my mind. This is, of course, impossible. But I feel that I must somehow convey this sense of frustration and injustice through my work, to expand the definition of the female body beyond the usual fine art motif of the reclining nude, a bourgeois fantasy of feminine ennui. Hopefully, these ideas will find their way out of my mind and become paintings. In the mean time, the research about witch craft and gender based violence is gearing me toward future work and providing me with some direction.

The Meaning of Beauty

I realized this last weekend that my hair was falling out inordinately, and that I could even see my scalp through my hair in certain areas. I could not figure out what caused this initially. But after some reflection, I realized that the prior months had been incredibly stressful as I made my job transition from one higher education institute to another. Prior to last year, I had thought I would continue working the evening shift while painting during the day. But life had other plans, and I am now at work by 8:30 a.m. each day, which has lead me to put art on the back burner.

This is my 10th year out of college, and there has been much juggling in the last decade, usually with full time school and part time job, or full time job and part time school. It's been strange to not be in school for the past year. A part of me misses the routine of drawing, of arriving at the studio first thing in the morning and drawing for hours. But another part of me realizes I must move on from these studies and find my own voice in my work.

Right now is perhaps the most difficult period of my artistic life thus far - figuring out what I want to paint or draw, wondering if there is any value to any of my ideas, while battling fatigue and fear to actually devote myself to studio time. It feels like everything hinges on me getting to the studio each evening, and each time I fail to make it out of my apartment is yet another failure.

Things reached a breaking point when I noticed my hair loss this last week, I told myself that it was time for me to practice some self care, and to not push myself so hard. The constant pressure to do something, to make something of my time and to perform was causing me so much stress that I could not do much except stew in anxiety and then battle through another day or work and unproductive studio time.

Rockeby Venus by Diego Velasquez

It also lead me to think about the idea of beauty and permanency. A lot of contemporary artists paint in similar genres. Examples include seated/reclining nudes, portraits, landscapes, or allegory. What I find intriguing is that few artists use models who actually look like real people, as in people with wrinkles, scars, sags, and other imperfections. A lot of artists will make a model look more perfect in their work, thereby enhancing the idea that beauty is the study of perfection rather than truth, and that physical beauty is the universal language of human desire. However, the human condition is one of continuous decay and regeneration, and the processes of aging and death are rarely represented in paintings, since most artists are fixated upon capturing beauty. Even when aging is represented, it is more of a study in technical proficiency rather than commentary on the actual process of aging itself.

While I'm the product of the atelier system, which has revived classical drawing and painting and given many contemporary artists sound techniques, I have been feeling more and more drawn to non representational art, mainly for their devotion to exploring contemporary issues. Few artists I know of in the contemporary field are exploring topics such as gender, poverty, and politics. It seems like the market is being saturated with genre paintings catering to patrons who want to decorate their homes with works of similar aesthetics.

So what is the artist's choice? Granted some artists are creating work outside of these genres (Vincent Desiderio, Steven Assael, Rose Freymuth-Frazier), but these seem to be the exceptions and not the rule. While there is something hugely satisfying about carefully rendering an object so that the viewer is awed by the illusion created, something seems to be missing from the contemporary painting world. There is a disconnect between contemporary realism and the rest of the world, as if we are representing the 1 percent of privilege that exists outside of the realm of the 99 percent faced with real problems.

What is the purpose of art if not to speak truth? For beauty will fade, but truth remains. I grow tired of allegory and talking in circles, and wish for something more visceral, more connected to the actualities in which we live. I'm not speaking of painting to shock or to glorify ugliness and pain, but rather depicting something that calls to the humanity within each of us, outside of the ideologies of mass culture and consumption, something that would be sincere and true. Perhaps this is the direction in which my work will progress, and I must find my own voice and vision in this grand tapestry that we call life...

Studio Habits

The Artist In His Studio by Rembrandt Van Rijn

Spent much of today on the road - driving to work, taking the bus downtown, and then taking the train home. Probably 3 hours of my day was spent in transit, feeling impatient about being in transit. Got home and promptly crawled into bed for a half hour, where I lay in half sleep, feeling too exhausted to feed my mewing kitty and my hungry self.

Days like these, whipped by rain and cold, are especially hard on the soul. This is why I now sit writing with a giant bowl of rice and stir fry next to me. Comfort food to comfort the soul.

The soul. Some days it lives so effervescently, full of life and light. Other days the light goes out and the soul goes into hiding. It seems like nothing can call it out of its hole except special foods or the warm touch of loving hands.

I love that I've rediscovered writing again. Sometimes it just comes in phases and I cannot control when I want to write and when I don't want to. Lately, it feels like a lot of thoughts are stuck in my head and need to get out. Maybe it's because the art outlet is blocked.

Studio habits of the artist is so important to the art making process. Some artists work on a regular schedule. Others work erratically in bursts of energy. Either way, it's work, and it has to be done. I'm still trying to balance a full work day with studio hours. Sometimes I feel it is impossible. And other days I find extra bursts of energy to head out into the evening and into the studio where I work alone in the vast silence.

Much of art making is like throwing stones into a dark pond. You can't see the ripples but you can hear the water lapping. You're not quire sure where the stone has gone, but you know it has been cast, and you wait for the waves to move across the surface of the pond and eventually reach the shore. Much of it feels like it is in vain, and it is very lonely work. It gets you thinking why you are even throwing this metaphoric stone? What is the meaning of this act? Except that it is inborn and automatic, and that you must throw this stone from time to time or go mad.

After a full day of work at the office, when I've interacted with many people, it is a strange shift to go into an empty room and be still with myself. In some ways, social media is prohibitive of the creative process, because it populates a virtual space with people, and it takes up room in your mental process when you actually have to be alone to produce work. This is why I probably need to take another break from social media in November, so I can focus on myself and refinding that solitude which I need to produce work.

Some people are really good at blocking out the world when they work. I am easily distracted and find it hard to focus when I know there are exciting news on social media or things I should find out. The little red status update number that pops up next to my Facebook app calls to me like a siren, and I respond by mindlessly tapping on the app for more updates to feed my curiosity. Sometimes it isn't even curiosity but just a restless mental boredom, and social media becomes mental junk food that fills my ennui.

When I get home from work, there is a tipping point at which I will decide not to walk to my studio. And that tipping point is around 6:30 p.m. This is why if I don't get home until 6 p.m., it is really hard for me to unwind enough for me to start dressing for the studio. I think if I were to schedule models to meet at the studio by 7 p.m., I'd have to hustle out the door. Necessity drives all invention, and social obligations can also drive art.

An artist I met over the weekend remarked that she schedules one show a year for herself. She said otherwise she'd never make any work. The deadline forces her to produce. I've never had a solo show, and I'm very curious about setting a deadline for myself this year. I can say that life gets in the way, and that I must change certain circumstances before I am comfortable making art. But the reality is that each act of art making is accumulating to something bigger. Like saving money. It is hard work to save money and to be on a budget. And no matter how much you save, some goes out the door when emergencies arise. But trying to save is the difference between those with money and those without.

So I must try with art making. To have the resolution and say "no matter what happens in my life, I will try to make art whenever I can with whatever time I have." Would this be enough? Will it be the difference between an artistic life and one without art? To quote Rilke on the impulse of making art: "ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I... And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse."

And with this, I'm off to the studio.

Self Discoveries via Others

Today was a bit hectic. Running around the city trying to do a bunch of errands while fitting in some much needed art talks and shows.

I don't currently consider myself an artist, primarily because I'm not making work regularly. *Contrary to popular culture - most artists are not drug addicts who don't bathe and laze around in their underwear before throwing paint at a canvas. Most artists are hardworking goal oriented professionals juggling several part-time jobs while making art with most of their spare time. Therefore, it was especially refreshing (albeit a painful reminder to stop having excuses not to paint) to listen to an artist talk and see new pieces by my good friend.

There were several important realizations that formed today as I listened to the artist talk and conversed with the artists and their partners:

As my friend spoke about her work, I realized that I am more drawn to ideas than technique. As someone who studied in the atelier/classical method, it's almost always been about technique for me - how does this figure look? What is the proportion? So on and so forth. But as my friend spoke about the ideas of death, the body, and symbolism (you can see her amazing work here), I realize that most of what I care to paint about can be represented very simply. As she mentioned how she tried to reduce most of the idea of the human body down into its simplest forms (scars, skin), I thought about how often I cripple my own artistic progress by trying to think of some large ways to represent my ideas.

A lot of my formal art training was in the manner of European narrative traditions. Historical scenes such as the Raft of the Medusa are deemed as the highest form of expression. Artists in the 17-19th century competed for the coveted Prix de Rome, which signified the zenith of professional debut for young painters.

Raft of the Medusa by Gericault

This means that my artistic training and its school of thought exhorts me to produce work that resembles the above example. As you can imagine, this is a bit daunting for a young artist just starting out in his/her career. I lack the resources to hire and stage models. I also lack the time and technical proficiency to produce this type of work. This type of painting is probably what keeps me from painting. The more I think about creating this type of work, the less I actually get to work, since I'm already petrified with anxiety.

What interested me during my friend's art talk was how she so articulately wove together all of the themes she had been exploring since one of her first shows. The ideas of mortality, the body, and its decay. We had a great time as an audience participating in a brief discussion, during which we touched upon strange Victorian death rituals such as hair wreaths and death portraits.

Following my friends' talk, another Chicago artist talked about his work, which was primarily abstract and more graphically oriented. A long discussion ensued about his technique, and the gallery owner expounded on how the artist's work was similar/different from other Op Art painters. Although I liked looking at this artist's work, I found the long talk on the technical aspects of his painting (how he created the effects by layering washes etc.) to be incredibly boring. I wanted to know more about the ideas behind his work, and to understand where he is headed in terms of his artistic development outside of technical style. This was when I realized that I primarily use painting as a vehicle through which I can explore the world. And to me, the world is full of mysteries that are interconnected via strange phenomena and by basic elements such as the body.

Op Art by Victor Vasarely

This also brought me to the realization that I had been trying to create my first work in the wrong way. Here I am trying to develop very narratives that are terrifyingly complex (multiple figures in complex background), when really most of how I see the world is through small details. You only have to take a look at my Instagram feed to see this tendency.

With this series of revelations, I now know a bit more about where my work is headed. I think I will start concentrating on smaller details and to focus on what I find interesting rather than trying to construct a huge masterpiece that I do not yet possess the stamina or proficiency to tackle. It's like working out in some way. You start with an isolated exercise or movement that eventually allows you to work up to a more complex series of movements. A dancer starts with a plié or squat. An artist starts with a small study or series of sketches for small paintings. Eventually the artist has developed enough momentum and technical skill to take on larger pieces.

Right now, I need to follow my instincts and paint what I find the most interesting, and somehow weave together all my love of the bizarre and absurd into small pieces that are more vignettes than long narratives. Eventually these vignettes will come together naturally to form the grand narrative (*This is why looking at an artist's work through time is so important and telling). In the mean time, I'll be painting and actually engaged in the process of thinking through ideas and weaving them together, instead of struggling to create a large piece that somehow defines me as a painter (which makes no sense, since when does one piece ever define an artist?).

Home on the Range?

Photo from http://tinyhouseblog.com/

Rainy evening - wet streets. Everyone rushing to get somewhere on a Friday night. Myself included.

Made it home to numb my brain with some SVU and cat cuddles. Sometimes a mind just needs to be mindless in order to rest. While surfing Facebook, where I read an article about a Google employee who is saving all of his income by sleeping in a truck that he parks in the company lot, I thought about the things I call my life. It's interesting how we define ourselves through our dwellings. A colleague of mine recently purchased a new condo, and she's spending a lot of money decorating it. It's a way of self -definition - how we decorate our homes, what we decide to furnish it with, the neighborhood we decide to live in. Somewhere, in the back of everyone's mind, is the all American dream. A home of one's own, where one can express oneself through stylish displays.

Yet somewhere in this American dream lies a catch. You must pay for your self definition by working at a job, which often takes you away form your stylish home. You may have to commute two hours a day and sit at a desk or stand in a room for eight hours. The remaining fourteen hours (of which eight you are sleeping) affords you a bit of leisure time with which you can enjoy your surroundings. Basically you slave away to collapse in your stylish apartment for about four hours before you pass out from exhaustion.

So I think this Google employee has the right idea. Why not save all of his money and pay off his student loans? Why not save up enough money to buy a home someday when he can actually be at home to enjoy his hard earned purchase? What is the point of spending money renting a small room in which he only spends time sleeping?

If all of us lived in mobile homes that could go from place to place, would we be as set upon our identities and properties? Would we be more willing to let go of things that aren't good for us, knowing that we can simply drive away to the next destination? Another town? Another state? And what if we spent less time decorating our homes on wheels and more time experiencing life instead? Wouldn't we be more aware of our aliveness, not having to work and commute 8-10 hours a day just to afford a place to live?

Perhaps the mobile culture will eventually become more mainstream. The recent trend in people building tiny homes on wheels is the beginning of the fraying of the fabric of the all American dream of the white picket fence. What's the point of a fence when you don't want to stay in one place, when you want to get out from the plot of land? A life lived in freedom may be much more valuable than anything money can buy...