Journal 1: 3rd February 2017
What is the purpose of art school?
For some reason, getting admitted to parsons was a dream of mine ever since 7th grade. It went without saying that if I got admitted, there is no chance that I wont attend. Finally, March 25th happened and I was in.
In one of my classes, someone proposed the question of “what is the purpose of art school?” and ever since that day, this question has been stuck in my head. Why do we go to art school? Is there like a certain outcome that can’t be obtained anywhere else?
I think that they’re some sort of speciality or twist when it comes to art school. In some ways I feel like it allows freedom in different ways than normal colleges and universities. It allows freedom in the sense of being who you truly are. As cheesy as it sounds, but it is true. Not only does this apply in terms of how you act around people, or what colour your hair is or even the way you get dressed every morning, but also more about being accepted for you being exactly who you are, and your art of course. I’m still in my first year of art school and so for now I really don’t know what the purpose of it is, but what I do know is that so far it has been a thrilling experience and I’m looking forward for the years to come. (And hopefully in the future, I know what the purpose was)
Journal 2: 4th February 2017
Ever since I started school this semester, I’ve been feeling just a little homesick and as a solution for that, I decided to take a weekend trip on to Washington DC for my twin cousins’ birthday. I have around 8 friends from back home, who currently study in DC, as well as a friend from Boston who was visiting as well, so it is perfect. Their birthday was yesterday. We went out to dinner and it was the first time I’ve seen everyone in around a month. It was overwhelming, but at the same it was such a good feeling. We were able to catch up about what went on for the past month for which we were separated. We later went to a nightclub called SAX and danced the night away woop woop… until someone grabbed my ass. It was 3 am when the lights turned on and you could see the awkward faces of everyone around you. Some people still trying to get that last sip out of their glasses, while other are just too drunk to even notice that the light went one, and of course the people who just leave. Before calling it a night, we ended getting some Nutella crepes to feed our hunger and just went back to the dorms for a goodnight sleep. We woke up today at 2:00 pm so our plans for brunch were obviously cancelled and so we decided we would just go out for lunch. I was straving. Three girls getting ready together, meant that we arrived to the restaurant at 5:00 pm. Up until this point, I can still remember the feeling of literal starvation. After lunch, or dinner, we went to M street where we walked around, window shopping and had some ice cream. I just got back to the dorms (where I’m staying) getting ready for a night out… again.
Journal 3: 5th February 2017
Last night could probably be considered one of the worse nights of my life. Other than our fun outing, which was basically just a repetition of the night before, it was one of the crappies nights ever. Getting back at 5am to a tiny messy and in some ways smelly dorm room, sleeping on an inflatable mattress is bad enough, but then finding out that the heater was broken made it ten times worse. The room felt like a freezer. If I were to sleep outside on a bench in the campus, it would literally be warmer than it is inside. I usually cant sleep in pants, so all I packed where these tiny pyjama shorts and a normal tshirt. To save myself from hypothermia or something, I borrowed pants from my friend. I wore two pairs of thick socks, a thermal under a t-shirt, a hoodie over and my huge CANADA GOOSE. I also asked for another blanket. Doing all that made it seem like I would be fine, like I would be able to handle it no? Well no. I probably slept for a good 3 hours total. I felt the chills in my bones. It reminded me of when my school back home used to take us on these camping expeditions where we would have to sleep in a sleeping bag, on the floor, in a tent, in a desert in the ice cold. But this was honestly even worse. I woke up to the sound of my alarm, which would usually be the worst thing ever, but for the first time, it was such a relief.
Journal Entry 4: 6th February 2017
Letter to Marwan,
Marv short for Marvin, it’s the nickname for Marwan. I really don’t understand why you did this to me. I do however understand the part where you kept saying that all these little fights here and there do add up and do hurt, but not for a second did I think that this would be a reason to end a one year relationship with a person who at a point in time was the closest and dearest thing to your heart. Marv, as cliché as it sounds but you broke me. I have a thousand and one things going through my head (and my heart) at this moment, none of which make sense, but they’re there and they hurt. I would be lying to you if I told you that I too haven’t thought of ending things once in a while, but that thought never lasted for more than a single second, because the thought of losing you was unbearable. I don’t think that your reasons for this whole mess are valid enough. I feel like if you truly loved me as much as you claimed you did, this would never be a good enough reason. Did you honestly think of me when you did this? I don’t have any closure. I can’t base this breakup on anything. If we broke up because of unfaithfulness and cheating, I would understand. If it was because of long distance or a huge fight, is also understandable. But with this there is nothing, no substance. My sorrow is split into three parts, the loss or the fact that even after this I don’t love you any less. Like yes, I want to punch you in the face right now and never talk to you again, but is easier said than done, and especially when my emotions haven’t altered. You underestimated how much you mean to me. I find it selfish when you say you still want to me to be close to you. I cannot see you in my life as anything other than what you were before, and for that, I deserve to have my space and I hope you can respect that. Anyways, there is nothing more I can say or do at this point; I just needed to get my message across.
Love,
Nadine.
Journal 5: 7th February 2017
So I watched this movie called Snowden the other day and have been having this recurring nightmare that I am being constantly watched. Even as I’m writing this journal entry, in my towel on my bed, I have a feeling like someone’s looking at me through my webcam or has hacked my screen or hard drive or whatever its called and can see everything I am typing right now. Hi hello NSA if you’re reading this, this is for class. Anyways, I keep waking up in the middle of the night looking for people in my room or something just staring at me or something. I asked my aunt about it and she’s one of those super superstitious types and she keeps telling me that the dreams have nothing to do with the movie; it has more to do with something I am keeping secret subconsciously. I guess it could probably be that I smoke cigarettes but my parents don’t know? I’m the type that tells them everything and ever since I came to New York I think i became a full time addict and don’t have the guts to even tell them that I’ve even ever tried them, so might that be it i guess? I don’t know but I’m pretty sure it’s about the movie though. The thing that freaked me out the most about the movie is how it’s a true story and they really heard everything about his conversations and saw all his actions just from his phone and computers. Right after the movie I immediately stopped bringing my phone into the bathroom and put stickers on all my webcams. Whatever though, I’ll get over it soon enough.
Journal 6: 8th February 2017
A new news headline that I happened to read today just made my day. I accidently happened to be on Huffington Post’s website today where I saw this major headline stating that Cuba has had a vaccine for lung cancer since 2011. Why was this not previously known??? They have developed and put it to use in 2011 and they claim that it is extremely effective in preventing lung cancer, allowing people a longer life span. This could ultimately be the cure to one of the most deathly cancers out there, and I’m so happy. Especially, being a smoker, I feel like I have found the perfect solution. I know that this is not an excuse to continue smoking but it just gives me a sense of relief. I mainly related this piece if information to my grandmother, who probably already killed her lungs from the amount of cigarettes that she consumes. About 2 years ago, we had one of the scariest cancer scares ever. She went to the doctor for a completely different reason, however the doctor happened to stumble upon a sign of lung cancer that she has developed. Of course, my grandmother being a very paranoid, easily scared and overly dramatic person that she is, just like any old lady would be, she had no idea. The doctor automatically contacted my father and not her, cause the thought of her “might” having cancer would probably scare her to death, literally. So we kept sending her to doctors to take these tests with her thinking its for totally different reasons, and the hassle of sending her reports all around the world such as Germany, the US and the UK to make sure that she is not diagnosed with that crappy disease. Thank God this whole thing turned out to be just a scare, and she was in fact cancer free.
Journal 7: 9th February 2017
I remember stumbling upon a work of art a couple of months ago called “Memories Without Recollection” by Sara Rahbar, which really caught my attention. I kept it saved on my laptop with artist name, up until today where I can actually make use of it during this boring snowy day.
Sara Rahbar is an Iranian born artist. During the period of vast turmoil that followed the revolution (1979), and later the beginning of the war with Iraq, Rahbar and her family were forced to leave the country and migrated to the States during the early 1980’s. Yet, until this day Rahbar spends most of her productive life between Tehran and New York. Living in the states for almost 30 years, she developed an emotional attachment and was instantly drawn to America, the notion of living the ultimate American dream and was even interested in the American flag. Because of this twin identity that she holds, and as a result of her going back and forth between both, the flag series was born, which lasted for about 10 years. In 2008, Rahbar produced her 19th flag, “Memories Without Recollection.” In this piece, she puts together the American flag and an assortment of heavily ornamented vintage Persian textiles and tassels. It is in fact, orientalising it, however it doesn’t take a stand for any of the countries, America or Iran, it’s simply a merger. It tackles the idea of national belonging, as well as the opposing role of flags as symbols of conceptual and nationalistic violence. It also comes from memory she claims, that feeling of longing. It is a representation of what she has experienced for the last 30 years, as she is still constantly questioning herself and her nationality. Memory and political symbols are combined with a very direct approach, interpreting her own personal history.
(Memories Without Recollection 2008)
