Learning To Love You More

http://learningtoloveyoumore.com/index.php

This is a world wide generative art project led by Miranda July. (Filmmaker, performance artist, goddess) Every few months she puts up new "Assignments" to which people from all over send in their versions of the instructions. Sometimes the results can be mundane, sometimes their really interesting. They already have a book out of the stuff. Take a look, it's really cool.

TAKE THIS ONE TWO

I started off unsure.
I asked Kat to do really odd things that I made up spur of the moment. Then, while shopping with Brooke, I took a lot more video of food, lobsters and other patterns.
Then, while at Kinko's and borders I took many pictures of chests and more patterns. Also trees and the road.
Then i edited all together in quick succession. Then played it in class.

If you haven't noticed, I fucking loathe explaining the process. I like talking about art, but taking it step by step like this is just silly. It's like, here's the magic trick. here's how it's done. awful.

I'm trying to figure out a way to make this more bearable.

TAKE THIS ONE

We started off by thinking about social mores and laws.
We continued by thinking about perception of pain.
We decided it would be interesting to give a building the appearance of wounds.
Then we decided we would get in trouble for so much meat on poor, bared walls.
So we decided we would make the buildings poor wounds external. We wanted to show the process of decay to the people who were currently experiencing it.
We bought chocolate syrup, food coloring, corn syrup and turkey necks. We already had saran wrap and string.
We woke up early and put together around 15 bags of bloody, gooey necks. We then ran to the Commons' second floor and hung them from the railing. There were about 8 hanging from the commons.
Then we hung some from the bridge. There were something like 7. I had to run and set up my other project. Sometimes there's no time.

When we finally showed the class our meats, the Man came to ruin the show. While exhibiting the bridge, a copper came and thought they were some sort of destructive weapon. (I guess. ) We were told that the Commons meats had been removed by some cleaner people. I was disappointed. The bridge still caused something of a system and certainly lasted an hour. So, mission completed, I guess. I wish we were able to leave them up longer. But now they're in the hallway. So hopefully we will get to see them get more awful.

I DONT JS EXOPLAIHNF SIERYT

I find it hard to explain myself. I really don't want to. The point is that I've been thinking a lot about MMORPGs as generative art and the way the facade of choice affects children. Whether it be World of Warcraft or Pixie Hollow, we're seeing a malleable, fictional universe unfold for anyone who desires it. But aren't your choices still limited? Aren't you still bound to the will of Blizzard? Or Disney? You're a cog in their generative art machine.

This hurts.

Long live the new flesh

I want to tell you about a growing subculture among our female youth.
http://pixiehollow.go.com/
Age old tyrants, Disney, have created an online militia they call "Pixie Hollow". Taking a short visit to Pixie Hollow led me to uncover their strange practices.
First, you create your alter-avatar. You start by choose your assigned power. You have the choice between Water, Garden, Animal, Light and Knives. I chose Water. Then you choose the anatomical proportions of your pixie. This is a little uncomfortable, so I will skip it.
Then you dress your minuscule wood nymph. I became meticulous about this step and added unnecessary trinkets and accessories. Already I was being grasped by the fantastical hand of the Hollow.
After this you must obey a randomized machine to choose your name. You can't just type in, "Floggerman" as I was hoping to. You must choose a combination of two of around 80 "faerie" names such as "Nightshade Pumpernickle". Goddamnit. After struggling with the desire to run from this, I ended up naming my avatar "Twilight" because that's pretty.
Finally, they turn you loose onto the pixies woodland world. You begin by collecting worthless objects like twigs and raindrops that you eventually trade for weapons and, presumibly, drugs. As I tirelessly searched for natural debris, I was cojoled by other fairies. They asked me if I wanted to be friends with them and if I wanted to play hide and seek. I smartly realized that these were obviously code words for their devious schemes, so I retreated in fear of capture.

Squeamish analgesics.

You don't want to see want I'm about to show you. Fair enough. Don't look at it. What about it makes you ill? Which human process affects you with such a malignant force? Don't pretend that you're an "artist" when you're not. When you can't even stand to experience what I experience every day. When you can't look down the esophagus of the wolf that brings you kindness. When you can't see through this bullshit. Don't talk to me about what art is. You don't know what it isn't.
This is anger.

This isn't.
I like it when what you see grosses you out. I like it when you feel something. Even if you don't like what you feel. Look at that guy who's naked! Look at red balloons in sequence. Look at this fairy that came out of my pocket.
Tell me. Tell me what you see.

Hmm...

I think I want this.