There I go, not updating again. It’s quite sad really. I’m also not sure why I updated in mid-January and didn’t mention what was going on around that time. Strange.
Anyway, I’m hoping to launch my own domain and official website some time next month, but I’ve put up a temporary portfolio here. Although I am still adding images, it’s the best place to see some of my work now.
I should have some exciting news soon!
I wrote this on November 22 but I’m an idiot and saved it as a draft instead of publishing it. Well, I’m publishing it now, and no, I’m still not ready to talk about House of Leaves.
Wow, almost 2 months since my last update! I knew blogging regularly would take some getting used to. Part of the problem is that I’ve been ill and also unmotivated lately. I’m working on a variety of projects right now, but I seem to be stuck on all of them, or at least plowing through them rather sluggishly. More details to come when I’m closer to completion. Also, I finally read Mark Z. Danielewski’s House of Leaves in its entirety at the beginning of October and wanted to write about it but haven’t felt quite ready. It’s a brilliant work of literature, definitely an inspiration to those who write experimental fiction. Hopefully I will be able to devote a post to it soon.
What I want to talk about today are common themes of YA fiction. A lot of the novels I grew up reading featured protagonists who were outcasts, who were hiding some sort of secret, who felt uncomfortable in their own skin somehow or felt they didn’t belong. Often, they were insecure, didn’t think they were pretty or good-looking–sometimes overweight or plain, but definitely not homecoming queen material. However, they were usually “beautiful on the inside,” that is to say that they were very kind or thoughtful, maybe smart or talented. I can’t speak for other countries, but in America especially, we seem obsessed with teaching our children that it’s what’s inside that counts, and these types of stories seem to be the result. I’ve always found myself more fascinated by characters on the other end of the spectrum though. The girls or boys who seem to have it all on the outside (usually cast to a supporting role in YA lit) but are really quite ugly on the inside and often unlikable. They seem to be the characters I enjoy writing most. Just a couple hours ago, I wondered about converting that idea to something more visual and tactile. A series of art pieces that have a clear “outside” and “inside,” where the beautiful hides the not-so-beautiful. It would definitely force me to explore what the definition of beautiful is in each circumstance. Anyway, obviously that idea needs some developing but I think there might be something there.
Until next time.
A couple weeks ago, I finally finished a project that has been at least a year or two in the making. While writing my senior honors thesis (a work of fiction that takes the reader through a girl’s life as she tries to find ways to co-exist with a father who died a couple weeks after her birth), I was thinking about books jackets as literal jackets or layers clothing that someone might put on or take off at any point in their lives. In this piece, each layer or “jacket” represents one of the 18 years in Lyssa’s life (although I only made jackets for 8 of the more intriguing years, for practical purposes) and each has cutouts that reveal parts of the jacket underneath, or the year before, it: the past is visible in the present, is visible in the future. This story to me is all about time and our bodies and what we choose to conceal and reveal, both in our heads and outside of them. At the same time, there is also the idea that you put on a jacket when it’s cold, or take it off when it’s hot. Lyssa is a character who seems to have very clear associations to temperatures, especially extremes like hot and cold. And yet, I think there are times when the two blur together. By the end, it’s a modern “Icarus and Daedalus” story. To her, the sun is hot and the water is cold, so she thinks: I like the cold, it reminds me of my father, I choose the water. But you still die. In both extreme instances, you die. There has to be some in-between and she has to find that.
Welcome to my new blog! For the longest time, I’ve had a hard time organizing my thoughts about my work in a consistent manner, and it’ll still probably take a while before blogging becomes a habit, but now that I’m no longer in school, I’ll try.
Last weekend, I finally finished reading Annie Tremmel Wilcox’s A Degree of Mastery, her memoir about her apprenticeship in Book Arts and restoration at the University of Iowa. While I don’t think it was the most compelling narrative and wouldn’t really recommend it to people who are not Book Arts practicioners or at least interested in the craft, I was definitely pulled in by her description of process and long hours in the studio. Jealous, even. I’ve always been the kind of person who can never figure out what I want–because it changes from year to year or month to month, sometimes even day to day. I really think I’m ready to dedicate myself to this for the next few years though. I would love to at least try.
One thing about the book that I found annoying however: Wilcox hardly talks about her life outside of the studio. Sure, she mentions teaching rhetoric and pursuing a PhD at the same time as her apprenticeship, but never goes much deeper than that. And I understand that that’s not what the book is about, that Book Arts in all-consuming in many ways. But the way I see and approach art, all kinds of art, is with its constant marriage to life. I don’t understand how one can repair books all day and not have that process bleed into their personal life and vice versa.
As for me, I just finished up designing the jackets for my last thesis art book. It involves a layering of different book jackets, each representing a different part of the manuscript and a different year. Right now I’m still going back and forth on what the whole piece should be called. Thick Skin or Onion or simply, Skin? I don’t know but I have a lot of time to decide. I’ll actually get the jackets printed and cut in the next few weeks.
Projects that are coming up: After reading about clam-shell boxes, I feel like I should make one for I’m Sorry But We’re Closed, maybe one that allows for it to stand up on display. I’m also starting a some-what secret project, pictures of which will hopefully be posted once it is finished. I am excited… Also, I am still trying to decide whether to apply to graduate programs for Fall 2010 admission. Classes began again at UH today. In some ways, I still don’t feel like I’ve graduated.
by Susan L. Lin 林🦕 