On my mind...

 Awesome People Hanging Out Together

Queen and Diego Maradona

Bill Clinton and John F. Kennedy

Simone de Beauvoir, Jean-Paul Sartre, and Che Guevara

George Harrison and Bob Marley

Trent Reznor, John Stewart, Marilyn Manson and Band

Sophia Loren and Jayne Mansfield

Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire

Stephen Fry and Lady Gaga

Salvador Dalí and Walt Disney

Frida Kahlo and Josephine Baker

Michael Jackson and Steven Tyler

Charlie Chaplin and Helen Keller

 

Funny Facts

 

English Gypsies

 

Portrait of May Sartois

Because I need a little beauty in my life right now...

Deafening Love

Because I am awake, and because there is nothing to be done about it:

Wherein I discuss rocks and squirrels...

Before I begin, let me say by way of explanation that as much as I would like to chronicle all of the long, sordid details of my journey since leaving Los Angeles, I cannot. I find that I lack the energy and the patience necessary to such a process and am not willing to sacrifice my precarious peace of mind to it. Forgive me. If and when you want a rundown, call me. I'm much more comfortable rehashing it all over the phone.

I'm currently sitting in the Temple University dining hall, slowly nibbling at a delicious sort of Spanish rice garnished with capers and green olives, and it's a very good thing I'm nibbling slowly--which I would not otherwise be doing except that I a) am also writing to you, and b) just finished reading Eat, Pray, Love which has inspired me to slow down my usually warp-speed dining habits so as to better enjoy my food--because, mid-bite, I feel my tooth graze what turns out to be a very solid, very tooth-breaking, pea-sized rock. Thank God for those daily, subtle nudgings without which we would inevitably end up scared, lonely, delirious, and dental insurance-less in an unfamiliar Philadelphia medical office. (Although, had I chomped down on that rock, I might have ended up snagging a fairly sizable settlement from Temple University.)

So, while I am not up to the task of familiarizing you with the ins and outs of my last week and a half, I am more than happy to tell you instead all about how I feel and the minutiae that inform those feelings. For example, on the way back from the dining hall just now, as I detoured around a construction site, I crossed paths with two gray squirrels. I have, in fact, passed them (at least I assume it is the same set--not being a squirrel, I find it difficult to tell one from another) in the same general spot everyday for the past week. These squirrels remind me of the squirrels at USC. Except the squirrels at USC seem somehow more urgent, less focused, and slightly more crazed. These Philadelphia squirrels seem instead dazed. Every time I pass them, they only notice me when I'm nearly upon them, letting me far closer than those USC squirrels ever did. Moreover, they look sad. Walking home just now, I began to wonder if the squirrels were not one time residents of what now is that gaping, fenced-off construction site. I wonder if they are animal kingdom IDPs.

Dear Family and Friends, Dear Universe, Dear Self-

I'm not really sure if I'm breathing anymore. Except that I am, as I have a cold and am therefore painfully aware of every belabored breath. What I mean though is, air and I have lost touch. Over the last week and a half, even over the last two months, I have been so preoccupied with the changes happening in my life that I've forgotten how to breathe. I'm either suffocating or hyperventilating, but never just inhaling and exhaling. (I mean this metaphorically, of course.) To those of you, like air, that I have neglected in my preoccupation, I'm sorry.

There is so much to tell you of my travels and general goings ons, indeed I'd planned to tell you now, but I am ill and tired, so it will have to wait for another time. Suffice it to say that I am safe and whole and coping, and that I love and miss you very much.

With warm thoughts and heavy eyelids,
MacKenzie

PS: Listening to this song while writing to you, I realized that it captures quite aptly my attitude and emotional state. In the verse and chorus, Miriam Stockley sings about a perfect day, but the bridge suddenly becomes dark and sombre. Read what you will into this.

Tragedy, Death, and Violence Class, 12 April

People get to perfection, overly fleshy, luxuriating. There are certain things about them, things that might strike you as kind of overdone. You've seen some ugly stuff, then you get to Lear, and when you get to Lear, there is already a sign of a later tragedy. How does the issue of lineage, "while we unburdened crawl toward death," rest word from referent? Now you have this floating nothing. You have these kinds of two different systems: on the one hand, on the other hand. It's not a very easy question. The expression of love is totally compromised in this contest. I'm not going to cheapen my love. "No more, no less." So, in other words, that means that I'm going to trip. This split versus modernist enterprising, this plague, all sorts of problems, this clash of cultures isn't just a clash of youth versus old age. You have these Machiavellian upstarts. Words mean nothing, words are fake, they are phony, and we can't trust them. How then do we get to know the truth? "Nothing," in this universe, seems all the more powerful.

2000: A Fashion Odyssey

I am a vintage clothing aficionado. I love the quality, drape, and uniqueness of a vintage garment, and work to incorporate such elements into a modern, albeit unique, look of my own. I draw inspiration from the 30s, 40s, and 50s. But what happens when the 30s, 40s, and 50s draw inspiration from me?

Tidbits

Chanel

The Secret Garden

Snow Drift

Pop

Pin-Up

Narnia

Letters

Sid and Cass

Tragedy, Death, and Violence Class: Exquisite Corpse

Five years after his mother's death, he found himself considering
her protests not at all, I went on groping
is a great way to get to know someone, and my favorite pastime.
Bobby Watson is kind of a Jesus figure, huh? He shows up everywhere random.
The universe has no intent and it's randomness is our salvation and our curse, find:
To locate a specific word you can use your favorite browser's find function. Just press ctrl+f.
But I couldn't find it anywhere so I looked on top of the world, and the people at the bottom are blurry,
but clear at the same time. Lucent, despite all the havoc,
unicorns, rainbows, and gummy bears are the meaning of life
sucks, but what can we do but just keep living.
The anorexic girl decided that life was worth living, so she finally ate.
And eat he did. He ate until he could eat no longer, one cake after another.
But I will be okay.
I don't feel any emotions today beyond being just okay and indifferent.
No one is ever indifferent, or for that matter, apathetic.
I have no idea why this listlessness has drowned me, but
all that was left totaled nothing.

Octopus I Love You, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Write my Thesis

Tragedy, Death, and Violence Class, 1 March

Is the story of the victims a story we want to hear? Even though it seems absurd, it's who wins. Isn't that strange? If somebody is executed, as you know, as we've mentioned before, it's done by all of us. God, speaking through various signs, would disrupt the execution, but when it becomes a contest between the high and the low, there's always going to be a lot more people down here. You try to go somewhere and you cannot, just because the act was against their laws. Their arch of forgiveness disrupts this chain altogether. On very abstract grounds, soft-headed groups of, say, three...

Blooming Sidewalks

A very dear, coast-away friend visited the City of Angels this week. Amidst painted Vader helmets, Meyer lemons, and pink mink flowers, she offered me this very sage advice: learn how to ride a bike.

I am currently facing eminent graduation and all the freedoms and responsibilities it entails. I think, as my friend espoused, both freedoms and responsibilities will be made easier by the aid of a bike. I did, of course, learn how to ride one as a kid. In fact, there were two summers during which I sped up and down the waterfronts of Tacoma on a pink, basketed, training-wheels-free contraption. Then, at the end of that second summer, I had a very intimate encounter with asphalt and promptly gave up on the whole lot.

They may say "It's like riding a bicycle," but given the twelve year time lapse, I'm inclined to be skeptical, or rather, scared. Nevertheless, I have penciled in "bike-riding lessons/memory recovery" in the weeks between graduation and the end of my lease. When I have conquered the bike and feel comfortable again on two tiny, parallel, spinning points of contact with the earth, I hope to reward myself with one of these:

Th Bloom is a small, exhaust-like device that spews, instead of toxins, bubbles. Bloom bubbles, however, are not only whimsical and smile provoking; they are also practical. The bubble solution is infused with various resilient wildflower seeds. When the bubbles pop, seeds land in the cracks of sidewalks, along the sides of roads, and beneath bus shelters. Inspired by Johnny Appleseed, the Bloom brings plant life to the concrete jungle.

The creators of Bloom, Society Creative, submitted these mock-ups to a bicycle-related design competition in 2008. Unfortunately, Bloom did not win. (To be fair, the winning entry, Pedal Power Pack, is a light-weight bicycle-powered generator to be used in disaster relief.) This means that Bloom is not available to the public. With how long it's taken me to return to cycling, however, I still have time to be optimistic.

Vintage Stunners

Edwardian Lawn Dress

Asian Inspired Flapper Dress

Gray Fur-Collared Cape

Seafoam Green Titanic Era Evening Gown

Embroidered Kimono

Purple Silk Titanic Era Evening Gown

Dotted and Tassled Black Flapper Dress

Headhunters and Cemetery Statues

I just finished re-reading Renato Rosaldo's "Grief and a Headhunter's Rage". Here in the dark, it has me contemplating death, grief, and loss. Appropriately, there are five beautifully chilling images of cemetery statues saved to my desktop. When better to share them with you?

Cemetery Statues

At the Corner of Fashion and Fine Art

Mary Cassatt, Young Mother Sewing, 1900

Vincent Van Gogh, Sunflowers, 1888

Alphonse Mucha, Chocolate Amatller, 1900

Archive of the Planet

The Lumière brothers revolutionized photography in 1907 with the release of Autochrome, the first true color technology. Nevertheless, color photography remained obscure and specialized (not to mention expensive) until the 1970s. All the photographs of the turn of the century I have seen in textbooks, museums, and other such venues have been in gray-scale or sepia. Thus, it was incredible to stumble upon the following images. Irrationally and subconsciously, I had tinted the past with those monochromatic grays and browns. Now, however, having discovered Albert Kahn's 'Archive of the Planet,' the truth of color astounds me.

France

China

Italy

Ireland

Vietnam

Sweden

France-WWI

I see existence, emotion, and both a past and a future in these photos. Somehow color brings the turn of the century to life.

For more photographs and more information, please visit:

http://www.albertkahn.co.uk/