My good friends Amy and Kenny picked out the photos from my album while they were visiting this week.
UGLY SISTER SMACKDOWN!
Remember when you first got your hands on a 35 mm camera?
Somewhere around 11th grade was it?
Just about the time so many of your horizons were being exponentially expanded thanks to The Fountainhead and The Talking Heads and the mind-blowing realization that not only was there "art" with a small “a” - things like ceramics class, and old paintings hanging in dusty old museums, and learning to draw a bird that looked like a bird - but also "Art" with a capital “A” - things like Annie Lennox's hair (which was not a Farrah Flip) and that break-out Ah-Ha video, and student films shot in black-and-white and where all sorts of discombobulated images are thrown together in a sort of fever dream, but you know that the images all mean something really, really deep, like really profound, and are, like, mining the depths of subconscious thought - those really dark and esoteric and slightly occult subconscious thoughts, the revelation of which has occurred for the first time in all the history of mankind right here and now in this high school student film.
And then just when you start thinking “Whoa, watching this film must be what taking The Drugs is like! I’m feeling so enlightened and misunderstood at the same time!” suddenly the film jump-cuts to a hand on an alarm clock, and a scramble-eyed kid sits bolt upright in bed, and the director reveals that - surprise! - it WAS all a dream.
Whoa. A film where all the crazy, disjointed images and circumstances are actually just a dream.
I bet no one else has ever, ever, ever, thought of that before.
Anyway, you got this 35 mm camera and you thought “Hey! I’m going to make my own moody, profound black-and-white Art.”
So you shoot a roll of film of a very pale-skinned girl with long black gloves, and she’s sort of leaning out of the void; a Siren - if you will - beckoning you into her netherworld of abundant blonde hair, where you and she will spend eternity stretching endless swaths of fabric across the hard ground.
And then you shoot another roll of film of another pale-skinned girl, only this one is wearing some old guy’s underwear and glasses.
How's THAT for disjointed and mining the dark depths of your subconscious? There's some pretty weird stuff going on down there, huh?
And don’t forget the shadows! Oh, but there must be lots and lots of shadows just everywhere...everywhere....
Ah yes, many bleached-out highlights, too.
And if that isn’t Art, well I’m not Man Ray.
And I'm not.