Illustration Galore

Love.
Swoon.
These illustrations are just- well- to die for. I recently discovered Audrey Kawasaki (first img) and I'm in love. Her work reminds me of Klimt, Egon Schiele and Art Nouveau all rolled into one delicious bun.
The others are .... crap I forgot, but I love both artists too. :P

It's something I admire about illustrators- those who draw and are in such major, are those who (from my observation) have a strong style. Put their drawings with everyone elses, you could probably fish out which one belongs to whom through subject matter, viewpoint, use of colour and drawing technique/medium.

My mother was looking at my sketchbook today and exclaimed how much my 'style' has changed since the last time she saw my drawings; deviating from a squiggly portrait of a woman with a giraffe neck to a Klimt-esque markered explosion to a minimalist sketch of a girl from above to a crosshatched woman relaxing in a bathtub from bird's eye view with her hair in curlicues around her to a sprinkling of fashion sketches here and there.
My latest thing, inspired by Blythe dolls and Japanese illustrators are these wide, doe eyed girls with overly horizontally stretched faces and swirling hair.

I can never been an illustrator- I simply don't really have a clear style. Sure, my subject matter remains within the realms of the feminine body, but in terms of technique and medium, there is little definition.
People think doodling is second nature to artists.
Well, it isn't for me. I cannot doodle if I'm bored; I have to feel inspired to doodle. And I feel tremendous pressure to have to doodle something beautiful and 'prove' my skills as an artist thus my hand is constantly hovering over the page, too scared and hesitant to actually put down anything on paper.
Many times I have written in my sketchbook, my frustrations with my inability to just draw for the heck of it.
It's also why the drawings I do have in my sketchbook come in a series- because I can't just doodle on the spot, I have to find inspiration to actually get me into drawing. In my book are three self portraits, four drawings of women from different angles and styles and lastly, two pages of wide eyed girls inspired by Audrey Kawasaki. And between all these spurts of illustrations are history notes, instructions on how to construct a yoke skirt and my own writing.

Which is why illustration is so perfect for Robyn because it's rather 'effortless' while it takes me about two hours to get anything done.
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On the topic of illustration and art, I wonder how Christians are supposed to 'respond' to art. I don't want to create a stumbling block, but if you look at the works of Audrey, they go from innocent to erotic; embracing the touchy issues of homosexuality. While I suppose we're supposed to shun such works, I can't help but look at how beautifully she can portray something that's so taboo in Christian 'culture'. They're just stunning. Ethereal.
I love this piece. I love the position of where the viewer is standing and the simplicity of line. The illustrator embraces the minimalistic linearity of traditional Japanese painting while the subject matter is definitely modern.

The Ugly Side of Me// The Fluidity of Being in Change

I don't know why, but it's the people I love most who are the ones who bring out the most hateful side of me.
I dislike them as much as I am fond of them.
Today we had a family dinner and I was helping 'gap sung' for my relatives and they praised me for being so good and helpful.
Friends and acquaintances have told me how caring, kind, friendly and considerate I am, yet I feel like there's this ugly side that only few people see that completely contrasts from what they describe me to be.
I feel very ugly- inside and out.
*
Once someone told me that in university, you see how people change because they're placed in a different environment and it's sad to see friends spiral out of control with drinking and parties.
For me, having already been in different environments, I guess you can say, my sense of 'self' is already in tact. I already know how I will respond in different social situations and how I will react in an alien environment so university was not much of a change in terms of my 'search for my self'. I've never really believed the whole saying that you find out who you really are in university. I think that's absolutely false because school and independence do not tell and define who you are. They can shape you but cannot give you the final results to your character.

Yet I have changed- changed both in certain ways of thinking and interests.
All I can say about my philosophy in life and ways of thinking is: Henry Cloud.
I'm looking forward to retreat- still a little wary as I have always been- but retreat is something I have to go to. Ever since my breakdown last year, I need to revisit the place I first confided in a bunch of strangers about all that I was going through which I had never truly accepted and realized until then. Looking back, I know I've changed in terms of interacting with people and keeping a positive outlook on things. I think by visiting the same place where I marked as a starting point, it'll bring me full circle and let me re evaluate where I am today to where I was exactly a year ago.
Pain is memorable. What can I say? I'll just quote Burke: pain is greater than pleasure that even the lover after losing his loved one, will lament the loss more than immersing himself in the pleasurable memories of the past.

You know I find this interesting. My best friend and I have been going through a lot of difficulty the past year because we're so different it's really driving us apart more than it is bringing us closer. While she has lived in Canada all her life, she feels pride in her country thus feels like it is her duty to care for it. She loves the Raptors- if you say anything bad about them- she will fight you to the death until you agree with her. She is so passionate about basketball, that it consumes her waking hours. Her field of study is environmental studies which stresses on longevity, reducing waste, life, sustainability. It seems like everything that she loves has to do with length- loyalty to one basketball team and to one country; studying sustainable ecosystems.
She is like wood- solid, stable and 'everlasting'.

I, on the other hand, don't really have a sense of national pride- because how can one have pride for their homeland if they can't really call it home? Sure, I will yell out "I'm Canadian!" in the States but I feel a sense of pride when I say I'm a dual citizen- American by birth, Canadian by passport, Chinese by nationality. I won't deny it: I love being all three because it allows me to draw out different things from each culture and country that I like and make it into something of my own. I dont feel like I owe anything to Canada, unlike my best friend, and yet I see this is precisely where our environmental crisis is coming in- none of us feel like we're 'owe' anything to our homeland, thus all we do is take and give back little. New York is a transition city- you try to score big money, and then leave to spend it elsewhere in some big mansion in Suburbia.
I don't hate America. I love Canada. I dislike how little design there is in Toronto. I dislike how many Americans are very ignorant (for example, I asked my Environmental Sci friend why she was a vegetarian yet eats fish, she told me because "eating fish doesn't destroy/jeopardize." I said to her "Ever heard of overfishing???" -_-).
In terms of interests, I'm open to many. I go through a lot of phases- becoming totally obsessed with one thing for a while and then bouncing to the next.
Suddenly right now, I'm warming up to Hello Kitty despite hating it as a kid since everyone liked it. I've become really into j-dramas (though that has stopped for a while due to lack of time) and Mandarin/Japanese music. I no longer hang out at caucasian malls- people in FMP are starting to recognize me and ask me why they see me twice a week there. I love Pacific Mall- I would work there if my Canto was up to par because I've noticed the clothing there. It's the total opposite of American Eagle- ecclectic, funky, weird and random- just how I like it. I'm consuming so much bubble tea and Chinese desserts- my parents are a little worried because I like it THAT much.

I don't think people understand how I 'operate'. I grew up having to learn to adapt to new social settings extremely quickly after having to live in different countries and swapping churches so many times. My ability to be comfortable relies most on speed which is why I'm very much a fast paced person. In terms of interests, my phases will last for a period of time, and will die down. It's like how I can listen to a new song a hundred times straight and not get sick of it. I'm not going to turn into a fob- I will pick up some of it, but I'm not going to dye my hair milk tea colour despite the very attractive name, I'm not going to start talking loudly in Canto, karaoke, and I will not dress full fob- whatever that looks like. I will be me with hints of the culture.

I choose not to be labeled. I hate being labeled and pigeon holed into some stereotype thus I dabble in different (legal) things and tailor it to my own tastes. It's interesting to see how OTHERS perceive my interests: Today I was at Pacific mall with a few friends and one person was trying to convince the other that despite how I say I am not a fob, he was trying to persuade our friend that I in fact, dress like a fob because I dress differently (although he made it sound like I was trying hard not to look fobby... I just didn't bother arguing because it's like talking to a brick wall). When I got home, my family comes over and knowing that it's been a week since I've returned from Paris, first exclaims how "parisian" I look with such a "french outfit."

When in fact, I got the dress for $6 at a thrift store here in Toronto. There was nothing Parisian or Fob about it- it was just these ideas and assumptions people had about me that they just slapped on.

I don't mean it in a snobby way- I just don't have that loyalty in me like my best friend. I can't defend any country- Canada, USA or China. Like fashion, my turnover rate in interests is very quick. One day I'm obsessed with Marie Antoinette and the next, you'll find me pouring over antique kimonos.
But that's just me. I pride myself in being very fluid. As my roommate said, I am very much like water. Having moved many times, my interests in everything and my education in fashion, have all come together to basically create the person I am today. No- it has not created me, but just affected and influenced; for who I am in essence is not what changing interests I have but that in Christ.

Babblings from a Fashion Student

I sat in the chair at my dentist. She said to me, "Nice dress- where are you going later on today?"
"Nowhere."

I think one of my fears of the 'every day' (because there are always greater fears than this) is looking like everyone else- or at least boring/drab/mundane.

It seems ridiculous but I take great pleasure in being encased in a fabric cocoon. Everything is more bearable if I find myself subjectively satisfied with my own appearance; though I can see myself slowly driving myself into lunacy- I will end up as one of those crazy old women with the weirdest wardrobe.
For example, I too- like the speaker on Sunday- had to sit behind a couple with an annoying baby who was constantly crying for no reasons on my flight back to Toronto from Paris. During those eight hours on the plane (in which the husband of the family just assumed I'd consent and took my assigned seat which was prime choice considering it was right behind the partition which means extra leg room- he just asked me like I was going to say yes, and didn't even thank me when I agreed to swap seats so he could sit next to his wife and kids), I was seriously deciding whether or not I really wanted to children since they cry so much and jokingly contemplating asking air companies to make a rule to sedate children on long flights to give the other passengers some peace.
Anyway, so as I was sitting there grumbling and wondering why good looking passengers show up on flights only when you least expect it, I just took into heart that I liked the dress I was wearing- and suddenly, my flight felt a little better because I knew I didn't look like everyone else.

Sounds hilarious doesn't it.
I'm usually very impartial and non judgmental when it comes to fashion because fashion is basically cyclical- what you hated 20 years ago will come back whether you like it or not. It is not me to decide who looks good and who doesn't- what you want to wear expresses part of who you are and what you believe. Yet the only thing I do despise apart from rubber Crocs which I think are absolutely hideous and hope the fad dies, is people dressing like everyone else. And I don't mean those who don't care and just buy whatever's in store- I mean those who are fashionably conscious who use clothing to somehow 'fit in'. I guess we all do it to a certain extent though.

Perhaps this was out of delirium from my trip, as soon as I got home I pulled out this round box hat covered in grey chiffon with a netting on the front a la Moulin Rouge, put my hair in a bun and stuck the hat on top of my head with a white feather to secure it at the back. I showed my mom, and she looked a little speechless.
Currently I don't have the guts to wear that out in public because I'll just look dellusional yet people used to wear hats and gloves to church so why does it look funny these days? It wasn't until John F. Kennedy's inauguration that people stopped wearing them. If they wore it in the past, why does it look funny now?
I should bring back the Sunday hat. :P

I'm currently making accessories for the head. It's so much fun- I'm addicted. Grey chiffon, Parisian flowers, charcoal ribbon, gold and silver circlets, frosted green cotton satin. Yummy.

I don't know why I find clothes so fascinating. I just do. During my trip in Paris, I found a Jay Chou video (Faraway)- and I was just suckered into it due to the gorgeous cinematography and moreover- the beautiful costume Jay Chou's love interest was wearing- especially the last number which consisted of a red pencil skirt with a small flare and a white ruffled blouse with peaked sleeves and a small 'hat' to the side. The song is okay but dude, I just watched that music video over and over for the costumes.

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So in short, my trip to Paris was amazing. The people made it amazing. I have much to thank God for.
The only thing I didn't find in Paris was love. HAHHA
Apparently one girl from our program met this French guy on the metro and he asked her out and they had a picnic under the Eiffel Tower. And for those two weeks, she saw him every day and she's now heartbroken that she has to leave him.
How is that for a story? :P We all marveled at her good fortune.
Ah, but I loved it. Loved my two weeks in Paris.

So we were dining at a cafe, and we see Owen Wilson standing five feet away from us. After a lot of waiting on his behalf, he enters into the restaurant (we were sitting outside). While waiting for our food, I was people watching- correction- I was fashion watching.
I'm sad to say that Parisian street fashion is not as chic as people always think it to be. It's rather urban and nothing really amazing.
Anyway, I was watching women with Chanel handbags walk in and one particular woman caught my eye. She had a really long cape coat on with an Louis Vuitton handbag (sans monogram- but you could tell from the texture of the leather that it was an LV) and these shoes that I've been lusting for (but obviously cannot afford) by Dries Van Noten- a semi bootie that looks like a sneaker but is also a high heel. Anyway, I was busy staring at her wardrobe as she exited the restaurant that I didn't notice Owen Wilson walk out with her.

That's how sad my fashion 'obsession' has become. When I notice clothes over a celebrity, that's sad.
Anyway, one of my friends brushed against him as she was walking to the bathroom. HAha... and I got a pretty bad profile pic of him with my Nikon- I didn't want to paparazzi him because he was only a few feet away.
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I just got back from a restaurant and bar- it's 1:30am.
When I entered the room, I could smell the scent of cigarettes waft in.
Grossed out, I stripped off all my clothes, kind of disappointed that now my new white dress with silver embroidery has this nasty smell since this afternoon when I first put it on, it smelt like perfume. Now my hair smells, my skin- it's disgusting.
Yeah, the bar/club scene is not for me. We tried to get into this first club but I was the only one with ID since the other two had placed their driver licences with another group of friends who were coming in a second taxi. At first the bouncers agreed to let us all in but when I showed him my id, he spoke in French to his counterparts that we were too young and told us in english that 'there was a private party and you had to get on the guest list'. Stupid.
It's good to know the basics of other languages- you can eavesdrop while pretending to be utterly oblivious.
So we decided to wander down the road and went into this other one. The thing I hate about the bar/club scene is that I dislike the smell of cigarettes- my friend decided to light up and took a menu to wave the smoke out of my face, and she told me to stop because it was embarrassing her. I was thinking "dude, if you want to smoke, we gotta compromise. You smoke, I fan. It's either that, or you don't smoke." Anyway, I hate dimly lit places, they make me sleepy and I don't like that weird tension and feeling of pretentiousness between genders and being checked out by other men. It's just plain weird.
However, I do find that there are some pluses about going to a bar or whatever, it could help me practice Henry Clouding. I know it sounds like the worst place to Henry Cloud, but it's a good practice arena. :P Sorry, no justification now, I'm too tired.

So, to celebrate the last 'day' of our two weeks (since we have to start studying for our exam this friday), we decided to go out for a fancy dinner.
Dressed in heels, dresses, and blouses, we consulted my friend's Louis Vuitton 'Paris Guide 2002' (I know, it's hilarious that LV even makes a guide), and ended up in this very trendy, modern restaurant called 'Kong', known for it's French/Asian Fusion restaurant. Usually I'm hesitant about these 'fusion' restaurants because they end up pretty cheesy but since it sounded so good in the description, we decided to give it a go.

First of all, it's got a gorgeous view- it reminds me of some space shuttle with glass ceilings where you can get a pretty good view of the etched LV building next to it (funny), and the whole place is styled in acrylic Rococo chairs with faces pasted onto the backs. But I had to laugh when I saw the pink walls with 'anime chalk drawings' and the super 'Asian' face decor with Kabuki makeup and wigs, along with the very suggestive 'geisha' photo mural hanging from the ceiling and the television screens that were playing stuff about Tokyo and Japan in general. It's very 'french exoticized'.
Anyway, the menu was pretty funny- there was 'peking duck' which is not Japanese at all. My friend ordered it but it's not served the Asian way. I had the cod scented with vanilla- you dip the fish into some vanilla sauce. It was really good though the fish was kind of cold.

Sorry, this post was just to record what happened today (we also went to Versailles which was tourist hell) not so much as to give deep insight. I should sleep.

Drama in Paris

Group photo at the Chateau Chambord

Right now I'm just a little pissed off.
I don't know why, but this summer has brought a lot of Know It Alls into my life. And this is the third incident.
I expect at the age of 30, most women would be-well- 'mature'. But today's events just proved how stupid and retarded some people can be.

So our program consists of 23 females (haha) from the Cooper Hewitt (another school) Decorative Art Grad program so most of them already have one degree. And a few of us are from the Parsons program (more like just me) and the rest are from other schools in undergrad.
Well the grad students, especially a particular group of four, have been intensely taking notes the whole time we were on our field trips and asking a lot of questions and trying to hear themselves talk and sound intelligent in front of the teacher to somehow show how great their history of French art background is.
Anyway, there are about seven of us who care, but we're more here to chill and to learn as an enrichment thing. But overall, we're not killing ourselves. I'm just with my camera snapping pictures and taking notes when I have to. Those seven of us have been hanging out the past few days, it's a great group because we're all pretty loud and goofy- they all like to drink and party but so far I've been okay with it- nothing too out of line. Anyway our group consists of:

-2 grad students from the Cooper Hewitt who hate the rest of the other grad students (their own classmates)
-Me, the Parsons, undergrad
-One from Istanbul with an undergrad degree and already working
-One with two masters degrees
-Two 19 year old undergrads from other schools

So our age range goes from 19 all the way to 33 years of age. Anyway, so the pompous grad students have the audacity to take the program coordinator out to dinner and complain how us undergraduate students are making the teacher 'dumb down' the course material and tha it's not intense enough for them. The funny thing is that we bumped into them at the restaurant and they pretended to not see us as we were seated and all of a sudden I see them all turning around, waving and smiling so I shot a fake smile back.

Yeah. How ridiculous is that. It's a total insult to my own intellect. Honestly, we're in Paris, do you think I really care THAT much as to kill myself over what kind of stone the Chateau Blois was made out of? Our exam is going to be an essay format with a very general question. Honestly, I already know roughly what I'm going to write, I'm not going to kill myself over very trivial details. There's only so much you can say about the stones used to make a house. Honestly. Even more ridiculous, the course combines decorative arts/architecture/interior design with fashion. I already know the fashion part of it so in class I take notes despite the fact that I took a course on the history of dress last year. I'm not patronizing nor do I pipe up and start talking about how much I know about the farthingale or what stockings they wore when Henri the fourth was in power.

Frick, why are humans so immature.
They say they know all the material the teacher is telling us yet they are getting all her questions wrong. One of the four girls who has been complaining, had the audacity to insist that tapestries were woven from velvet and when someone tried to correct her, she said that the 'teacher' told her so.
Velvet is a fabric, you idiot, not thread.

Well the battle has just started, just four days into the program, it's become an estrogen fiesta. Whoohoo. It seems like chateaus aren't interesting enough, we gotta spice it up with some girl drama.

I've tried to remain neutral and not gossip, but ever since a really nice woman from the graduates program (who also just happens to be my 'camera buddy' with her own canon slr), confided in one of my friends, that the grad students were indeed annoyed that us undergrad students were in the course, I felt extremely insulted that they thought I was 'lower' than them because I didn't have a degree yet. I take it these people are what the Bible refer to as my 'enemy'- and yet I have to find a way to be good to them.
Humility seems to be in low demand these days.
Art can make you so pompous.
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I've done a lot since I last blogged. Went to the Sacre Coeur basilica, went on a ferris wheel that showed us the entire city (it was the highlight of my day), walked in the Tuilerie Gardens, went the Louvre to see architecture (no I did not see the Mona Lisa), had cake and tea at Cafe Angelina and ate and ate and ate and shopped once- the shopping isn't that great here. I think we're just going to all the wrong places (aka the american places which we could fidn back at home).

Anyway, we saw three chateaus today including one with a double helix staircase (double staircase) which was tres tres cool because I've only seen them in pictures and never been on one. Oh man, I have pictures to show. Amazing. We were actually planning to go to London for the weekend but it ended up the tickets there would have been $260 round trip. WWAAAY too much so we're just gonna stay here. We drafted a list of things to do so we're gonna try and knock them all down by the end of next week which include the Folies Bergere (where Josephine Baker danced back in the 1940s), the YSL archive, Champs Elysees, Museee d'Orsay, night boat tour, Eiffel tower (just because it's the tourist thing to do although I've done it including walked half way down) and the contemporary art museum.

Funny thing: my friend was telling me how she tried to ask a waiter where the bathroom was so she said,
"Ou est la salle de bain?"
And he responds,
"Over there."

If you know French, you know that the thing you NEVER say when asking for the toilets is 'salle de bain' which is literally asking for a bathroom with a shower/bathtub and is a dead giveaway that you're NOT french. What you are supposed to say is 'les toilettes' although it may sound a little ugly but it's one thing your French teacher warns you to say before going to Paris. I just found it really funny. Something you'd only appreciate if you were actually in the situation.

Paris: Day 1

No shame these French people. Will make out in public in a public, tourist area.

Anyway, this felt like one extremely loooooooooooong day.
After I blogged the last entry, I packed up and got into the car to go to the airport. From there, I just dropped my baggage off since I checked in online earlier so my parents and I just hung around drinking coffee and juice.

I got to Montreal really quickly though we took of half an hour early.

There, it was around 9pm, and I was starving so I sat at their airport cafe and watched the airplanes being prepared and the sky was really pretty (I know this sounds really choppy but I haven't really slept at all).

I decided to call my parents while waiting to board the plane to Paris- and upon hearing my dad's voice, I cracked. Why I cry every time I leave, even if it's only for two weeks, is beyond me. I wanted to control it, I tried to loosen my voice box and breathe deeply but my dad could tell I was just croaking out "yeah" all the time. I felt like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill 2 when she's trying to move one toe after being unconscious for so long. :P

So I boarded my flight to Paris around 9:20- I changed my seat last minute online to an aisle seat right behind the bathroom so I could have some more leg room. I sit down and there's no one in the two seats next to me.

And then I see this really good looking Asian (I think) guy walking down the aisle opposite. The thought that perhaps he'd be sitting in my aisle flashed in my head.... and he did! Hahaha... it ended up that no one sat in the seat inbetween us which became the dumping ground of our stuff. I didn't speak to him at all the whole flight. He looked Japanese but then after sneaking more glances after getting off the plane, I have no idea what he is. He's fluent in French which throw me off even more. But when he sat down, I noticed he had a large Montsouris Louis Vuitton satchel slung across his shoulder.
Hm, either he's metrosexual or gay.
Then during the flight, he pulls out his Nintendo game thingy- you know the one all the fobs and boys play these days. This throws me off even more.

Yeah so as you can see, I was quite preoccupied with trying to figure him out the whole flight that I didn't do anything except try to sleep though my stomach was hurting so I basically didn't sleep at all. Food was crap.

When we landed, we couldn't dock because the workers on strike so we were stuck in that position for another 40 minutes. Finally we got off: the airport is small, crowded and humid. Gross. I groggily find my luggage which is already circling on the conveyor belt. Since I booked a shuttle to pick me up at the airport, I tried to find a free telephone to call him ($2/min by cell phone!) which was fine.. and then got some more euros at the HSBC atm. And then waited for a looong time for him to come. And we had to drop a lot of other people off- I was the last- so it was 3ish by the time I got to my dorm which I couldn't find either- all I knew was that it was an ugly Modern building. The other buildings here are gorgeous. It's a university campus basically where there are different international dorms here, defined by country. There's even a Japanese one in the style of their architecture- no wonder, when I was trying to find my building, I saw a huge group of Japanese people with 'milk tea' coloured hair walking around. Frickin hilarious. I'm at the Fondation de Suisse.

Anyway, I fell in and out of sleep. No air con here, so it was really hot and I always woke up sweaty. Gross. I have a really nice room- it's got a shower, sink, bed, desk.... the girl next door to me helped me with some stuff and I actually spoke french to her (pathetically), but nevertheless, she understood me. She asked me when I got in, how long I was staying, what I was studying... I asked her what she was studying (les lois) and how long she was gonna be there for (a few months). She even lent me her Ethernet cord so this is how I'm getting internet since wireless isn't working. Man, how good is that?

Anyway, went to meeting (two other Torontonians there and two Vancouver people!) and I tried to introduce myself to as many girls there as possible (it turns out, my residential advisor is a guy I knew from first year because we lived at the same dorm) then two girls and I decided to walk around and this 6"5' french guy approaches us and tells us if we want to see stuff, we're going in the wrong direction. He offers to take us to Notre Dam via metro- I thought it was sketchy but whatever. So we went to Notre Dame and one of his friends came by and he tries to sell us Eiffel tower keychains and we declined, so he gave us each one for free. He asked me if I was Japanese, and told me how he knew how to speak Japanese and started sputtering out "hajimemashite, konbanwa, ohio gozaimasu." We took a ton of pictures, though it was too dark inside the church to take any pictures plus I didn't bring my Nikon. While walking there, a french guy, approaches me, raises his arms and says "Omg my god!" and then walked away. Very weird. And then our 6'5" friend, took us back.

Yep, that's all in a nutshell. Now I'm dead tired since I haven't slept since June 30.... whenever that was.
More updates later... pardonez moi. Now my french and english both suck.