From Jaclyn:

Jaclyn Gardiakos here, reporting on THE art event of December, the December 4 BART meet-up. It was so mind-blowingly incredible that it took me several weeks to process the happenings and be able to write about it. This remarkably exclusive showing had some of the usual heavy-hitters representing in full-force.

Jonathan got very negative and really screwed us over. At first glance, I thought his was a pretty OK pencil sketch, but upon further tactile inspection, I realized it was laboriously hand-cut and glued pieces of paper (which had been the assignment, but people don’t always follow the rules. Especially art people). I enjoyed his meditation on how often our dog-eat-dog, modern world will overlook the intricacies of what we work so very hard on.

Bridget was very crafty with her beautifully intricate piece that told us to fuck our personal brands. It reminded me of when happy songs have dark lyrics. It lulls you into a false sense of security so it can shove some real truth down your gullet. She clearly worked very hard on it. It’s almost as if her personal brand is one of consistently creating smart, interesting pieces that look great despite her constant claims that she doesn’t normally make visual art that looks good. Fuck her personal brand.

Nick, my husband, created a lovely reverie on how much he loves to win moon, which is a game my parents “invented.” It’s a two-player game in which when one person sees the moon first on a given day/night, they say “moon!” and point to it. This must be while you are in each other’s company. We started out playing ironically, but then the irony faded and we now fight for the daily title of moon champ. Ok, his piece probably wasn’t about that, but I can’t help but sense the influence.

I continued my tired motif of bunnies, surprising no one. I plan to continue to deconstruct the subject until I’m fully satisfied, and I don’t see that happening for a long time. Look forward to many more rabbit meditations from me. It was also a bit of a performance piece as I cut it out with a really sharp paring knife (which was sharper than the exactos we had) while Nick watched in horror, waiting for me to cut myself. I have a habit of cutting and burning myself, but this was not one of those times. Explaining the injury in the ER would have been pretty funny, however.

Until next time. Happy new year to all the barts and bartlets out there.


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