The First Part of Many: A Look at Illustration

This is going to be a multi-part blog post as I rummage through my thoughts on several illustrators. They will not be posted in sequence.

Upon returning to campus I visited the Dawn Treader Book Shop on Liberty in order to find some cheap copies of novels I required for the semester. I’d figured, at least, that the novels for my Fantasy class would be on the shelves given how widely read they were, for instance, novels from the Harry Potter series or Alice in Wonderland. I did find Alice on the shelves, but they weren’t complete versions of the texts, missing the ever-important Through the Looking-Glass. Also, I’m not proud enough to admit that the cover was not particularly appealing. However, as I was about to leave the shop with nothing, my eyes were drawn to a book that had an interesting illustration on it. It was a bird (perhaps a crow?) with a top hat and cane, walking briskly, eyes shut, towards some location beyond the silhouette of the cover. The title? You Can’t Get There From Here. Ogden Nash wrote the book but what truly piqued my interest was that Maurice Sendak illustrated it.

My only encounter with Sendak is, of course, Where the Wild Things Are. I can never quite remember how many times I read it, but I don’t think I read it as much as other children claim. But quite recently, I’d found a new interest in several illustrators from Sendak’s era, or perhaps those who preceded him. I’d become affixed to the elegant line drawings and incredible draughtsmanship of E.H. Shephard, Saul Steinberg, Jean-Jacques Sempe, Ronald Searle, and Tomi Ungerer just to name a few. So it was only natural for me to pick this book up.

The entire book is composed of several poems, most of which are comedic, while some are sublime, but all of them are whimsical. One particular poem I find quite coincidental is titled, No Woe is Gossamer to Mr. Bessemer. The poem describes, not a pessimist, but a man who always expects the worst, and one of the lines is, “He is certain that the train he must catch will leave early, / and that, once caught, it will arrive late, / And, as a Michigan alumnus, that the Big Ten title will / go to Ohio State.” The illustration accompanying this poem features a man in a raincoat, holding an umbrella, sun hanging high, walking past a group of puzzled children, one sticking out his hand waiting for a drop of rain that is not coming anytime soon. Ha Ha. chuckle chuckle. Turn the page.

Now, as I write this article, I wonder, should I not be reading “children’s books”? I’m not too sure if such a thing even exists actually. Or at least, the books that I remember reading as a child and still loving are those that are timeless. Even now, I pick up books I never read as a child and find them fascinating. So it sort of comes back to that word (doesn’t it?) – timeless. Does that just mean a book is re-readable? Not quite. Or maybe it suggests something like what Calvin and Hobbes does so well, each time you revisit a strip by Bill Watterson, you appreciate it in a different way.

Then, naturally, I guess the proceeding question might be, how do these illustrators/writers create something that is timeless? Perhaps I can explain it this way, by introducing a bit of unrelated yet related information, Ungerer used to draw illustrations for a children’s book on his desk while nearby, he had his stove on, with a pan filled with Barbie dolls that he was melting in the heat. And of course, he wrote incredibly famous children’s books while also creating art books like The Underground Sketchbook of Tomi Ungerer – a book that features a naked woman on the cover, with no head, and in the cave like entrance of her bleeding neck, sits, huddled, a man with a bloody knife.

I’m not suggesting that this is the only answer, but it may be a answer. Yes, it is a far cry from the pairing of pessimistic poetry and whimsical illustration, if anything, a lot of wild illustrations seem restrained compared to what Ungerer did. How does a man, who drew the adorable, Moon Man draw a man using a woman as a vacuum at the same time. Honestly, although it may seem ludicrous to the public eye, upon consider what Ungerer went through, his history, his context, and a variety of other “character building elements” it doesn’t seem all that crazy. I’d like to suggest that perhaps his inclination towards drawing images of manipulated bodies, both man and woman, isn’t all that unique. Perhaps he is just more honest than the average individual. Is that what it takes? Honesty?

There is Too Much Art to Consume

There is too much art to consume.

More than ever, I’m overwhelmed. I have a movie list that has to be over a thousand—there’s 150 from 2014 up to now alone. I keep up with 16 new TV shows that premiered just this fall, in addition to all the shows I regularly watch, and that’s leaving aside all the classic TV I’ve been meaning to watch to broaden my TV knowledge. Listening to my Spotify Discover Weekly playlist each week means I have a constantly growing list of music to listen to. I have a list of books to read that expands at a rate of at least one book per day. I do not read a book a day, and doubt I ever will, so this is clearly not a sustainable habit.

Even aside from my own intrinsic desire to be caught up on all the latest art, there’s the pressure to have things to talk about with your friends. There’s Jackie shaming me for not having watched Gilmore Girls, and all the people inexplicably disgusted that I haven’t seen Forrest Gump. (I don’t think I’d even like that one.) In fact, as I’m writing this, my friend Avery just suggested a new band for me to listen to, and god dammit, I really liked the first song I listened to by them, so there’s another band to add to the list.

Too Much Art is ruining my life. Okay, no, it’s not, but it does aggravate my stress, which is already high due to homework, my job at the Law Library, my job as a Senior Arts Editor, my job as a blogger, that job at Barnes and Noble that I should really just quit already, and the impending doom of graduation, lurking only a few months down the road. In the spare time I have, I should be able to chill out and watch an episode of something without worrying about what art I need to consume to be an ideally well-rounded artist-writer-person.

TMA means that I can’t even begin to think about the other art forms I would ideally have time to explore, like podcasts and video games and visual art. I’ll have to content myself with Writing Excuses (a 20-minute weekly podcast), my summer play-through of The Last of Us, and an occasional trip to a museum.

I’ve managed to cope with some of this by realizing that it’s okay if I drop a show from my rotation every once in a while—sure, I’m saying that I plan to catch up on Once Upon A Time and Teen Wolf one day, but I doubt I’ll ever get to them. But it’s still an issue, and I don’t ever really think itwon’t be an issue. There’s simply not enough time to do all the stuff I want to do. I want to continue to try, though, even though it’s ill-advised and delusional.

So what it comes down to is prioritizing. And that’s something that I’m still working on. Currently, I’ve picked two areas to really focus on: TV and music. I really like keeping up on TV on a weekly basis, so that’s currently one of the few things I’m semi-succeeding at. It’s hard to keep up with all the interesting TV out there, especially in this period of what TV critics call ‘Peak TV,’ but I’ve managed to watch most of the things on the air that I care about.

Music might be my biggest success right now. I have three music lists, all stored on one iPhone note. The top one is mostly indie and pop music that I’ve been meaning to listen to, compiled mostly from friend suggestions and Discover Weekly suggestions. The second is mostly rap and hip-hop artists; as white as this is going to sound, I didn’t really have any interest in rap or hip hop until I watchedStraight Outta Compton last March, and since then I’ve gradually expanded my knowledge about it. The third list is older music, mostly from the 70’s and 80’s, that I’ve been meaning to listen to more (The Clash, The Cure). This was mostly triggered by recently watching Stranger Things, Sing Street, and Halt and Catch Fire.

Music is nice because I can cross artists off my list while I’m doing other things: walking to class, making dinner, even brushing my teeth. You don’t realize how much time is spent doing miscellaneous things like that until you listen to music the whole time and blow through a couple albums a day. Being able to get stuff done while you’re walking is very efficient, and I feel noticeably more music-literate now than I was a year ago. (Most recent additions to my Spotify library include Jukebox the Ghost, TV Girl, and Danny Brown.)

But being generally content with my music and TV competency means forgoing movies and books, which is pretty bad. I love movies, sometimes more than TV, and books…well, books are supposed to be my grand passion in this world. I’m an English major, I want to write books professionally, I want to go into publishing, etc. And it’s not just that I’m finding I’m not as passionate about reading as I used to be—I still count books as my favorite medium of storytelling. But books are undeniably time-consuming, especially since I’m kind of a slow reader, and I read so much for class that I rarely want to read just for fun in my downtime. Besides, though I theoretically want to be more well-versed in contemporary literature, the literary conversation is less immediately pressing than the what’s-on-tonight TV conversation.

I read a bit over the summer, but now that school has started back up again, I find that I’ve made basically no progress, and that saddens me. Reading and writing remain my focus, career-wise, and I know that I need to refocus on that. I need to probably drop a couple of my new shows, like Designated Survivor and Quarry, and save some to binge when I have more time over winter break. (I will never forgive myself for watching ALL SIX SEASONS OF GLEE. NO ONE WATCHED ALL SIX SEASONS OF GLEE. IF YOU WERE NORMAL, YOU QUIT HALFWAY THROUGH THE SECOND SEASON AND NEVER LOOKED BACK.) I need to set aside time to read and write. It’s just hard when there’s so much art.

Intro/Extra

The terms introversion and extraversion are tools that Carl Jung popularized to explain the different types of gratification that individuals try to obtain. They were a shorthand to help explain complex issues. To explain these complex topics simply, introversion in being primarily interested in one’s own psyche, whereas extraversion is motivation stemming from outside gratification. This allowed psychologists to more easily analyze patients and theorize about the machinations of the mind. These concepts, however, have been bastardized by pop culture to segregate people into two groups whether it’s actually applicable or not.

There are two ways that professionals actually view these concepts: as a continuum to explain a person’s general motivations, or as an explanation of the motivations behind a single action. This is important to realize as a professional would not label someone as an “extravert” or an “introvert”. Either they generally act in an extraverted/introverted way (but is not solely extraverted/introverted) or that a particular action was motivated by introversion/extraversion. This dichotomy that pop culture subscribes to, like most dichotomies, is a false one. Actions and people exist on a gradient.

Extraversion and introversion have had positive effects, though. It has allowed people to better understand themselves and their motivations. In addition, they enable people to easily discuss what they are mentally experiencing, thereby facilitating understanding among people. This can lead to higher sympathy and less taxing demand for conformity to other people’s attitudes. However, they have become labels that divide people and create animosity between the groups.

According to pop culture extravert and introvert are opposite and opposing labels. You are either one or the other. With this comes ingroup and outgroup dynamics. You highly favor those that share the same label and act derogatorily towards those of the other label. Introverts see themselves as intellectuals and extraverts as vapid. Meanwhile, extraverts see themselves as sociable and introverts as awkward. This especially prevalent among people that hold the label extremely personally as if that label is everything that they are. These group dynamics are obviously harmful as they perpetuate stereotypes and ignore issues that could be resolved.

Like almost everything else, introversion and extraversion exist on a scale. We act extraverted in some instances and introverted in others. Labelling oneself as one or the other only serves to diminish the complexity of human experience. One learns to ignore the individuality of experience, rather than embracing it. Through this, we actually come to learn less about ourselves, rather than more. Introversion and extraversion can be helpful to explain specific instance and analyze them, but labelling an entire personality as just one or the other is ineffective.

The terms extraversion and introversion can be extremely useful when used correctly. They can establish connection, elicit sympathy, and enable discussion. Unfortunately, these terms have been co-opted by pop culture to take advantage of ingroup and outgroup dynamics. This labeling, when used in this way is ultimately harmful and should be reconsidered. In the future, do not label yourself as an extravert or introvert, instead, you are a person with complex motivations.

Follow your Passions and Never Work Again

In anticipation for my final Arts Ink posting, my mom asked me what I was planning on writing about. I confessed that I hadn’t thought about it (and frankly had too many other things on my mind that took priority over this post). She went on to reflect on what a great opportunity it has been for me to have this job for my last two years of college. And she’s right and she’s wrong.

Writing for Arts Seen and then Arts Ink has certainly given me the incredible chance to attend brilliant performances, readings, and concerts, and turn them into written reflections. Each Sunday this year, I’ve been able to sit down with my thoughts and soak my brain in all kinds of art curiosities, musings, and explorations. And hopefully, my writings have not only affected me for the positive, but also I hope it has inspired others to imagine, meditate, create, and engage with the beautiful world around them.

But my mom was wrong – this isn’t a job. Never has it ever felt like a job to me. And I think that’s the greatest thing I could hope for. Sure, there may be deadlines. I might have to say, “Sorry, no bar trivia tonight. I have a blog post to write.” But I don’t ever feel like I’m missing out on fun or working at all. And as a graduating senior, I can only hope to discover more opportunities to be productive and creative, and “not work.”

I just watched the 2011 documentary, “Jirō Dreams of Sushi” last week and within the first five minutes of the film, the eponymous protagonist tells the audience:

“Choose your occupation carefully. You must dedicate yourself to the work. Fall in love with it. Never complain. Dedicate your life to mastering the skill.”

For Jirō, that comes in the form of sushi. He dreams about it. He works from 5 am until after his restaurant closing time, living and breathing his sushi creations. And he’s 85 years old.

I find tremendous admiration in the spirit of Jirō and his constant drive and passion to always improve his own craft as well as the experience for his staff and customers. You can tell that when he is in his restaurant, behind the sushi bar, with the starchy granules of rice and the slippery smoothness of fatty tuna belly on his fingers – he is in his happy place. That is where he wants to be.

So friends, whether you’re graduating this week, next year, or graduated fifty years ago, become your own Jirō. Follow your own sushi dreams, commit yourself to your craft, become your own life’s artisan and chip away at it with love and authenticity. Turn your work into a work: of art, of service, of community outreach, of technology, of inspiration. I wish you all the best at whatever your dreams behold <3

Thank you for the wild ride,

Cammie F.

 

From Beginnings to Endings: My Last Post

A golden retriever puppy on a boat wears a white Michigan Wolverines hat and licks the top of a bottle of Corona.
Photo from http://theberry.com/2015/08/09/sunday-brunch-51-photos-15/

My time as a student at the University of Michigan is about to come to an end, and as such; this will be my last post ever with arts, ink. For my last post, I’d like to write about how it all began. I’d like to write about how I got from a nervous-excited senior in high school to an equally nervous-excited senior in college.

I can’t remember if I received my acceptance to the University of Michigan a few days after most of my friends, or just a few hours, but I remember all of my friends being overjoyed about their recent acceptances while I was afraid I hadn’t gotten in. I’d like to say I was afraid because I really wanted to go to school here, but that would be a lie. I didn’t know where I wanted to go to school; I just knew I wanted good options.

When I did finally receive my acceptance, I did what any other social media savvy kid in 2011 would do, I wrote a Facebook status.

Screen shot of a Facebook status reading "Finally got my email! Accepted to UMich" with 60 likes and 28 comments.

Would you take a look at that? I didn’t even use proper punctuation. It wasn’t even my most liked status ever. People were happy for me, and I was happy for myself, but it wasn’t like I’d said I was going to Michigan. All I’d done so far was get in.

Then came the tough decision. I applied to four schools and had luckily been accepted to all of them. I had the options that I so craved, but now I had to actually figure out which school I wanted to go to, and while some might say I’m not great at making decisions now, I was even worse four years ago. My parents had very strong feelings about eliminating two schools from the running, so they were quickly crossed off my list. That left me with two schools, and one of them was the University of Michigan.

Most of my friends had gone to visit and tour the schools they were looking at, but I didn’t do that. I had no idea why I liked or didn’t like either school left on my list. I had people telling me their opinions left and right, and none of them were very partial. I became stressed, and the week before my decision was due I began fainting from my anxiety about having to make a decision, which only added to my stress.

My brother tried to make life easier on me, so two days before my decision was due he took me to his alma mater, the other school on my list, and showed me around. I loved the campus. It was big and green and beautiful. There was a living-learning community that I had been accepted to that I liked very much, and it really seemed like the perfect place for me. However, many of my other family members had a different opinion. They had all gone to Michigan, and they believed, in order for me to make an educated decision, or in their opinion, the right decision, I should see both campuses. So, the next morning, the day before my decision was due, my mom took me to Ann Arbor to see Michigan. Her tour was a little briefer. We walked around campus, but my mom isn’t the best at directions, so we didn’t go far. I thought the town seemed nice, but it didn’t really feel as much like me, and I couldn’t really get an idea of what to expect since my mom’s experience would be very different from my own.

That day, I don’t remember why, my sister was having a party. My whole family was there, so after returning from Ann Arbor we went straight to my sister’s house. Everyone knew my decision was due, so one by one they each asked me what I’d decided. I got sick of the questioning, and I still didn’t have an answer, so I went outside and asked my mom what to do. I felt pressure to go to both schools, and I didn’t know what to do. My mom told me to try telling everyone I was going to one school to see how it felt, but I was afraid that idea would backfire terribly. So, I decided to go a different way.

I found a 1994-penny (not even a quarter, I was cheap) and flipped it, heads for Michigan, tails for the other school. I had hoped I’d know where I truly wanted to go as the coin turned in the air, but instead I found myself just as undecided, but happier that I’d finally have a decision. The coin landed on heads and I told my entire family all at once that I would be a Wolverine. They cheered loudly, hugged me tight, and broke into a round of “Hail to the Victors”. Somewhere between the first and second verse, I couldn’t take it anymore. I left the house crying and didn’t stop crying until the next morning.

Of course, I calmed down. I joined the Residential College. I attended orientation and wore my MCard around my neck the whole time. I began to like the fact that I was going to the University of Michigan. I wasn’t one of those people who fell in love with the school right away; it took me a little bit of time. But soon, I began to embrace the maize in blue. With each passing day, I became more and more proud of my school. Now that I’m leaving, I’m so glad that penny landed on heads. If I didn’t come to Michigan, I would be an entirely different person. Sure, that person could’ve been cool, too, but that person isn’t me. That person wouldn’t have made the same friends, taken the same classes, gone to the same football games. That person wouldn’t have made awkward Matrix-like motions to avoid walking on the M on a busy day. That person wouldn’t have gone to the same parties or the same restaurants or the same bookstores.

So, thank you Michigan. As bittersweet as these last few days before graduation are, I’m glad to have been able to call you my home for the last four years. It might have been a rocky start, but we made it in the end, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And don’t worry, wherever I go, I’ll always go blue. Hail!

University of Michigan students waive yellow pom noms into the air at a Michigan vs. Michigan State football game.

Bittersweet

The Magic of Grease Live! Why Representation Matters: Looking at the Korean Wave through the Asian Diaspora. A Success Story in the Making: Buzzfeed and the Era of Clickbait. How The Princess Diaries was my First Feminist Movie. Looking for Authenticity in K-pop and K-Hip-Hop. Is Music Dying – or is it Thriving? Why Children’s Movies Matter.

This is only a smattering of topics, only a few titles to future blog posts left unwritten. They are left unwritten because this is my last post on this wonderful, amazing blog.

When I first submitted my application to arts,ink, I didn’t know what I was getting into. I had emailed my former-boss and now friend, asking about jobs at the office where Arts at Michigan is housed, the Office of New Student Programs. A friend of mine had told me that she had heard that they were hiring people to work at their front desk and answer phones. As someone who did not want to work in a dining hall (and succeeded in avoiding it all three years here), I took the chance and ran with it.

I got an email back saying there were no office positions open, but I could apply to two blogs – arts,ink and arts[seen]. I applied for both, and even preferred arts[seen], because I loved going to see shows and concerts, and I thought that learning to review them would be a good skill to add to my arsenal before I left college. I had low hopes, though, thinking every writer on campus would be applying for this job. Much to my surprise, I got an email a couple of weeks later welcoming me to the team – to the arts family.

I got hired as a columnist arts,ink, and I wondered how I was going write about something every single week for the rest of the year. I had so much writing to do for my classes already, not to mention the reading and other assignments for classes that weren’t English classes.

But now that I’m leaving, I don’t know where the time went, how I didn’t get to talk about these things that are still so important to me. It seems like just yesterday I was freaking out because Michigan Pops shared my post about their concert, or that I could not believe that I had gotten 5 comments on a post about what I thought was a little-known Chinese singer (the comments doubled to ten as I responded to every one of them).

A lot of people asked me throughout my time at Michigan why I never joined any of the other student publications on campus, as there are many. No one really reads these blogs. My friends and family of course read my posts, but even then, I know they don’t read religiously. When I send them links, they read, and they tell me how much they liked it, but besides that, Arts doesn’t get the readership that other places get. So why didn’t I join any other publications, you ask?

Because none of them felt like home like arts did. Arts encouraged freedom, encouraged discipline, encouraged creativity. I didn’t have to follow a weekly prompt or format. My task was simply to talk about art, in any way possible. And it’s in this freedom that I found my home.

I feel so incredibly blessed that I got to spend three years here. Writing, editing, reading other posts – I’ve loved every minute of it. It’s definitely been a challenge, trying to stay constantly creative while in a college environment that, at times, discourages creativity. And trying to keep up with posting every week while also trying to juggle school and clubs and friendships and families was never easy, especially this year, as a senior preparing to graduate.

But it was all worth it. I’ve become a better writer, a better reader, a better thinker – I’m constantly thinking and analyzing my surroundings, what I see in the media, what others tell me about their experiences.

Maybe there’s been some topics that have been left unexplored. But that’s okay. Because arts,ink will keep going, inducting new writers next year, freshman arriving on campus with wide eyes and ready pens, seniors looking to put their stamp on the arts community before they end their time at Michigan.

So this blog is dedicated to you, future writers at arts,ink. We may be the underdogs, but you have just found a community that will always support you, never limit you, always push you to write more, to constantly engage in the thriving arts community on campus. It may be time for me to leave, but it’s your time to shine.