Fear and Cowardice

Francisco de Goya, Saturn Devouring His Son
J and I have been friends nearly a decade now, and I must say that is rare, at least for me. I had never given it much thought until the other day when she told me I was cowardly. Okay, I'm not good with criticism, but this one made me really think. She and I are quite alike oddly, even though we come from completely different lives. And she is maybe one of two (maybe?) people I trust not to blow smoke up my ass. She critiques my work frequently as well, gives me food for thought. Yes, cowardly.... hmmm... that, I've not heard before, but then again, our perception of ourselves is often different from another person's perception. She said I was cowardly because I often choose to not love people, to keep them at a distance for fear of.... betrayal?; even with her, it took nearly five years before we were good friends, longer to completely trust that she would not... would not abandon me? I just figured I was a tad anti-social. In this era of instant love as portrayed in films and books, she admitted that she did not love her first husband even when she married him, but that it was only years later that she learned to love him. She said love is both a physical and an intellectual endeavor; physical love is obvious, but intellectual love can only come with time.

Body Image

Greg Brady as Johnny Bravo

The Greg Brady Project
I can't seem to get Fumie Sasabuchi's work out of my head at the moment. It's not that it disturbs me, but it made me think of my time living in Los Angeles, before I ever really visited other places in the world (Las Vegas doesn't really count!!!). In my time living in West L.A., I have to tell you that almost everyone I met was in some way connected with the movie industry. For instance, nearly everyone had written a screenplay or was in the process of writing one. During my junior year, Jaleel White (aka Erkel) lived down the hall from me, and I used to pass Mayim Bialik (aka Blossom) on my way to class every day, and Danica McKellar (aka Winnie of the Wonder Years) was taking math classes down on the south campus. Add to this the proximity of the San Fernando Valley with its aspiring "stars" and you can begin to see how one's perspective might be a little skewed... I thought all women were blond skinny sticks with two melons... and faces that didn't move when they smiled or cried. At Starbucks, overheard a conversation between an agent and an aspiring "star":

Agent: Your breasts are too small. You're going to have to get them done.
Girl: Of course. Yes.
Agent: We'll foot the bill. I guess you'll do.

I guess she got the job...kinda reminds me of Greg Brady as Johnny Bravo... if the suit fits...

Change

Expect not to keep
Life unmoved, unscathed through time.
The sole constant: change.

Fumie Sasabuchi

I love the work of Fumie Sasabuchi. She studied at Tama University, located in a suburb of Tokyo called Hachioji. She currently shows at Galerie Zink which has three locations (New York, Munich, and Berlin). The reason I'm writing about her is that I greatly admire her work, but that I've stumbled upon other blog posts about her which say that she is a "he." Now, that's just sloppy research... I mean, first and foremost Fumie is a Japanese woman's name (pronounced Fu-mee-ay)... in the way that the name "Mary" is a woman's name without ambiguity, not like the name "Pat" which can be either male or female. She takes images from fashion magazines and reworks them. Death, beauty being skin-deep, the fragility of life itself are issues that she deals with. They are visually stunning pieces and really, I think speak for themselves.