one group strung colored strands of yarn bewteen pillars
that group hung colored strands of yarn from the strung yarn
that group let these strands of yarn defer to gravity by way of attaching small ornaments
that group crafted letters using painter's tape, stuck them to the yarn
the result was this:
all of the duchamp-readymade exhibits
stirred confusion,
and stirred chaos,
and stirred initiative...
one boy had the ingenius thought to run through the exhibit, the art
and swing himself from the yarn canopy
and pull down strands of yarn as he stumbled across the artpiece
and tear down the entire thing
and ruin hours of planning, hours of work
and laugh about it, and smile about it, and cackle about it, and haha ahahaha about it..
I entered TAG almost ten full years ago. The first day of school, I met my best friends. I met other friends. Some I do not know anymore, others I love so dearly. None of them will be coming to Mass. with me. I will be at least 260 miles (almost 5 hours) away from all of them.
Friendships either break, or are tested.
Then, my 4th grade teacher mailed me a big envelope. Inside: photos from 4th grade, they brought back memories; a letter I wrote to her on her birthday accompanied by a hand-traced ma of the Great Lakes region, that made me laugh; the pages I contributed to the class poetry anthology and UnderGround Railroad booklet, they made me smile.
And suddenly, it felt like everything would be OK.
Every time I clean my room, gathering old papers I cannot look at and say whoa! I really want this now! and recycling them and finding cool things that bring back memories that make me want to cry and smile and giggle and organizing my binders and labeling them with those printer labels leftover from old office campaigns during 8th grade that campaign to be school treasurer that never worked and as of now they're also left over from reusing big yellow envelopes for college applications because I didn't want to buy new envelopes, I just covered written stuff with printer labels and wrote anew and storing so many binders into shelves hoping I will not forget what I have stored where because I cannot afford to not be able to find something in two years when I need it most...
This process is basically only repeatable every six months due to lack of time.
Every time I do this,
Five weeks later, everything is a mess, my room is a mess, everything is aclutter.
And I can't do anything about it.
Woohoo.
Let the clutter live.
Keep cleaning, but let the clutter live.
It makes sense to me.
and that duchamp-day exhibit?
this is what i wanted to say to that lovely moron:
stop hahaaing you twerp. you just added to the art. you proved its point. congratulations.
