Collage.. College.. Ugh.

I'm collaging my way to college. I think that's a good way to put it. The whole end of the year thing is bugging my brain, so I collage. Collages are a visual representation of how my mind works.

I started with the above. I basically ran through the STAC room after everyone left and collected what I could find and decided to make a mess out of my living room floor. It was all out of anger.

I took ideas away, I kind of contemplated it a lot. But I went with the, "get shit done" attitude.



This is the end product. I tackled a 24x36 piece in a day. Minor details were added a few days later. But this is it. It turned into a search for identity I believe so. I'm proud of it, despite all the hidden anger I involved somehow.

On the last day I worked on this, we ordered Chinese food in STAC. I love fortune cookies, so ofcourse, I cracked it open. It said, "We don't know who we are until we can see what we can do." My reaction: Holy Shit. It's my life. So I placed it on my favorite color, the teal, and I put it right above my favorite photograph. Ta da. Art.

A couple of days later, Luke gave me a canvas and told me to make a collage. He said, "when you look at a building, it looks like a box. When you look closer, it looks like a bunch of boxes. But when you look at a cathedrial, it has a shape. And when you get closer, it has amazing detail." Basically, something that looks one way when it's far, and has a different experience when it's closer. Ok, well..

I made this piece that I didn't like. I was basically doing it to satisfy Luke (sorry Luke), but I realized that that shouldn't be my reason for making art. I ripped it off the next day.

Here's the outcome. You see the newspaper and how it's ripped? That wasn't my intentions. The newspaper was originally towers and that's what I tried ripping off. But since I'm a professional glue sticker, it didn't want to get off at all. So I left it. I was angry, once again, and I was flipping through magazines with sizzors in hand picking random words. Luke said to stay away from words (which is my favorite part of collages, and although I love Luke's advice, it gives me two options.. his choice or the opposite. I chose the opposite). So the collage is mostly words and one visual that pretty much sums the whole thing up. I picked these five words, & coincidently and it formed a sentence. This was before I decided to look closer at the newspaper.

I was in my car with Courtney (my community) examining the piece I did out of anger, and she was looknig closely at the newspaper. We noticed a bunch of words such as: "exploding", "killing me", "criticism", "misunderstood", "lunatic", "wandered", "broken", "self-reference", "disrespectful", "screamed", and yes, "photography". The piece has my name all over it. We decided to box in the words.

In the end, I have completed Luke's task. You get a different feel for the piece when your far or close away.

I started a project at home now. I guess my art is all over the place. See what happens when you move the damn lens from your face? There's actually a world out there.


more to come.
-ashleycoppolino

My last project. Kiss it goodbye.

Let me just think.
My senior year.
I think everyone has thought about graduating, whether you're a freshman, sophomore, junior, or senior. My senior year flew by. I didn't expect that. I always said I wanted to get out of this hell hole, but I think I'm trying to bury myself here. Burying myself here would be the proper thing to do. That would mean that I would be stuck here forever. Deep inside that's what I want, or what I think I want. The truth is I'm scared. Graduating high school is a big step and I'm not ready. I feel like I've wasted my time. I didn't take advantage of what I should've, I didn't try hard. I just assumed everything would come easy, and it doesn't. Art was where I never had to try. And now, trying is killing me. Art is a combination of everything I love vs. everything I hate. If I tried harder, I would probably have been good at school, but I'm not, and I'm ok with that. If I was good at school that would mean that I followed the rules and I did what I was told, which is a total lack of creativity. I'm not saying that I'm the most creative person in the world, because I know I'm far from that, but I have a problem with rules, which is an issue with my power. Believe it or not, I'm powerless. I think I'm the one having a problem believing it. I always knew I was weak, and I just put a front up, which is the best acting I've ever done in my life.
I've been known as the photographer forever. I was nine years old sitting in a photo studio saying, "this is where I want to be for the rest of my life", but when you're young, you're juvenile and you are unaware of what it really means to grow up and to have a job, which is where I'm getting to. I'm really really close. When I was nine years old in that photo studio, I was a lot happier than I am right now; the constant flow of ideas and the time you had, is what kept you going. As a child, you think that anything you do is amazing. A simple  flower drawn with Crayola crayons turned you into an artist. Sure, thousands or trillions of kids have done that, but you were unaware. If you told a kid, "You're not original. You're not the only one doing this. Other people have done it better," I'll bet you my life that the kid will grow up hating what they do. We're still kids. I only have a limited amount of time to still say this, but I am most definitely still a kid. Telling me what I'm doing isn't good enough basically, it takes a toll on you. It killed my inspiration.
I'd like to take my fucking camera and toss the piece of shit out the window on the top floor of the Empire State Building. Everything I loved about photography has been stripped away. Between planned photo shoots, people I had to research, and the pressure to be better than I am, it all made me collapse. I will forever hate the people who did this to me. The sad part is that they're the closest people in my life and I don't think I'll ever forgive them. I was shoved behind a lens. I always liked to put myself there, but I got shoved once, then again, then again, then again, then again, then again, then again, and yes, again.
No research, no studying. No looking up how to do something, no listening to how it should be done. These are questions & problems that I can figure out. My art isn't produced for someone else's opinions. I've never worked like that. I did everything for myself. I knew it was a mistake to bring my collage to school. Honestly, how fucking dumb am I. It was perfect until it was commented on and criticized. I was satisfied with it and I considered it one of the best things I put together. Now I stepped into shit and got stuck with this as my last, final, supposed to be the best, supposed to be proud of, should be unforgettable, senior year, graduating year, project. My collage looks pretty shitty now since I stabbed it with a knife after school.
Yes, I'm angry. I'm angry at a lot of things. When I needed the guidance, I didn't get it. Now that I'm on my path, suddenly there are voices telling me to turn around. I don't need a map. If I wanted one, don't you think I would have photographed or collaged one by now?

Expect another post.

-ashleycoppolino