PSjustwords

Creative growth is something that is vital to existing as an artist. I have been on this journey of passion for as long as I can remember, but it wasn't until a little over four years ago during a college drawing class that I had realized that I needed to spill my thoughts onto paper. So let me take you on a little part of of my personal creative journey, and share with you the moment that ignited my creative spark and has kept me going to this day; my final presentation given to a class of thirty, hands shaking, voice breaking and heart racing. With the backdrop of sleepless nights of meticulous creative passion behind me; ink, paint and words—lots of words, I made myself vulnerable.

We wander these streets wondering if maybe one of these days we’re going to find ourselves amongst the chaos, among the trees, hiding and yearning to be found. Everyday I wander and search for something that can’t be found, something that maybe doesn’t exist. That something is passion, passion for something, someone, ourselves. Passion exists. It is something so beautiful and powerful that most of the time is a feeling so incomprehensible that we believe that we are incapable of possessing it. I am a wanderer…lost in a sea of madness. The world that surrounds me is mediocre at best, exciting yes, interesting maybe, but pointless without being passionate about something. This is where I truly lose myself…I realize that I am not passionate about anything. Reaching deep down into my soul I realize that I do possess a passion, a passion to create and discover parts of myself that I did not know existed. It is amazing to realize that a soul so young can be so complex. These thoughts that only now I have been able to acknowledge have been burning a hole in who I am. I was lost and still am, but the road that I have finally discovered, the one that leads to to the deepest and darkest parts of myself is finally one that I feel brave enough to explore and conquer. On this road I will find pieces of a broken person, pieces of a broken heart and pieces of who I actually am. Picking up the pieces of something that is broken is difficult and putting that something back together requires tedious effort. This is something that I am finally prepared to do. At last I am brave enough to realize who I am and who I want to be. • 3:03 pm  •  11 April 2014

To be great is to be misunderstood. I tremble with the need to unravel the vines that are clinging to my throat and wrap around my brain. The words come out like spilled coffee…no mercy. But virgin ears refuse to acknowledge my madness.• 2:07 am  •  16 April 2014

 
Why is it that throughout our lives we yearn for the most impossible, unrealistic, fucked up, frivolous, dangerous and ridiculous things? This happens because we are all dreamers lost in a sea of madness. This world is cruel and unfair and we have to deal with the consequences of treading the unknown, but the most beautifully powerful thing that we own is curiosity which leads us to discover ourselves alongside the universe that surrounds us. This universe is marvelous, something so immense and terrifying that we choose to throw ourselves into it hoping that one day we will run into the person that we want to be. Our lives are compiled of a finite number of moments that define the legacy we will eventually leave behind. In this compilation of moments there are many that lead us to ponder self destruction. What I have learned is that as we perpetually destroy ourselves we learn to take a step back and realize how broken we are. This brokenness is something that should be embraced because that is exactly what defines the essence of our being. As I sit here and write down my overflowing thoughts my lungs are stained and my heart is recovering, but my head sits firmly on my shoulders…it hasn’t been there for a while. • 3:41 am  •  27 April 2014  

I finished reading my words, I looked up and in that moment I felt something that I had never experienced before, exposed. For the first time my art wasn't just my escape—it became my reality. Since that day I haven't stopped writing, I haven't stopped drawing and I will never stop creating.

My head is still in the clouds, I'm just trying to keep my feet on the ground.

P. S.

Iris Van Imagination

Up until this point I have harped about physical creative spaces and the emotion and inspiration that they spur. Today I'm going to take a bit of a different approach to creative space in terms of visually inspiring and idea fueling imagery. I have dabbled in many art forms, be that writing, drawing or design. Fashion has for many years held a special place in my heart, being 14-years-old I had stepped into a world that was intriguing yet terrifying—the modeling industry. From the many young models I have had the pleasure to work with and befriend, I always seemed to steer conversation in a different direction than measurements and castings. I more often than not rather discuss the creative process that went into fashion shows and shoots because it piqued my interest as to how these designers, stylists, makeup artists, hair stylists and photographers came up with the concepts for their work that in the end always became a beautiful composition. That being said, over the years fashion has been an integral part of my life academically, creatively and personally. As most industries, fashion is in perpetual forward motion yet innovation usually only comes in the terms of design, but what if that could be taken one step further—technologically. 

Meet Iris Van Herpen, a Dutch designer at the forefront the digital fashion movement. I stumbled upon this brilliant mind around FW16 last Spring and I was floored. Van Herpen digitized design and 3D printed garments that are impossible to make my hand and by impossible I literally mean humanly impossible. This past week during Paris Couture Fashion Week Van Herpen debuted her 10 year anniversary collection and the result was absolutely breathtaking. 

The fluidity of her garments seems natural, yet the pieces are not sewn via human hand, but computer code. Digitally designed garments can then be turned into code and programmed into a 3D printed and voila, you have fashion of the information age. The way in which technology has allowed for artistic imagination to have no bounds is magnificent, now garments that were not possible to make by hand have the potential to be created by a machine. 

I urge you to take a look and attempt to wrap your mind around the sheer progressive potential of the garment industry in itself. We are the future and individuals that have the bravery to color outside the lines of society are what keep our creative and pragmatic world constantly and consistently moving forward.

P. S. 

Visceral Victorian

As I have come to learn via this blog, it is difficult to pinpoint a particular space that appeals to the majority of people. My trip to the Met showed me that, although I have been multiple times it wasn't until yesterday that something clicked for me - art draws attention due to details. One thought stood out to me and rings true, I turned to my boyfriend and said "Do you know what the most underestimated aspect of this museum is? The frames." His response opened a door for me as he said "I've never actually noticed." I have been called a "meticulous artist" by one of my drawing professors because I obsessively spend too much time on the intricacies of my pieces, although when it comes to deadlines this dedication to detail is sometimes detrimental to productivity—in life it serves as a source of knowledge and awareness. Trekking further into the Met we stumbled upon an exhibit that I hadn't seen: The Wrightsman Gallery and my poignant attention to detail went wild.

As James started reading the descriptions of each piece of furniture, my eyes wandered to the walls and the lighting. The grandeur of the era overtook my consciousness and made me realize how much time and effort was put into the crown molding, the wall panelling, the crystals of the chandelier and the complete composition of a space. From the ceiling to the floor, everything blends in a gorgeously meticulous fashion. The lighting of each space is also something that caught my attention, now although you can't sit at the 18th century desk and write a midterm paper, you can note the ambiance of the space in terms of feel and atmosphere. The cohesiveness of each space proved to me that maybe I'm on to something while preaching about the importance and impact of ambiance on inspiration and motivation, but don't take my word for it. P. S. 

Slowly Drifting in NYC

My name is Paulina and I am a creative. Like many others, I came to New York City in the hopes of finding myself and my creative identity, yet over the years I have come to realize that amidst my chaotic soul searching I had ended up losing myself instead. Throughout the five years I have called this city home, I constantly find myself being pushed to figure out what sort of environment fosters my creativity, be that writing or sketching. I invite you to join me on the search for people and places that drive creative inertia.

It's 9 a.m. I'm the first one here. Bedford Street as the city awakens. My table, flanked by the coffee machine and the front window, affords me a sense of privacy, where I withdraw into my own atmosphere...The small café feels chilly. So why are the fans turning? Maybe if I stare at them long enough my mind will turn as well. It's not so easy writing about nothing. -Patti Smith, M Train

Patti Smith and I share two specific things, our conveniently literarily relevant initials P.S. (post script) and our passion for stream-of-consciousness writing. It's a beautiful thing to have the ability to exist in a current moment both mentally and physically, but with our lives moving a million miles a minute it is often difficult to find a space that fosters presence. Smith effortlessly describes her current state of being—simple and honest, yet striking. Even in her admittance of feeling uninspired, she refers to her environment to find a spark of inspiration. This blog is an homage to the daydreamers, the artists, the writers, looking for moments in a city of divine chaos. 

My head is still in the clouds, I'm just trying to keep my feet on the ground. Whenever I feel lost I always remind myself that; right here, right now, I am here and nowhere else. 

Let's make moments.

P. S.